Alex Reynard
The Library
Alex Reynard's Online Books
CHAPTER NINETY-ONE
The next morning, Piffle tried an odd experiment with imaginite. Just to see if she could, she made a fire. A special flame that would provide pleasing heat without torching the carpet. Zinc said it reminded him of the night they'd first met, having a campfire cookout with her as the meat. Exactly her intention, she said, as she slipped his wrench jaws gently around her throat.
After a bit of resurrection and kissing, Piffle left him to the cooking while she fluttered over to rustle Junella out of her sleeping bag. The skunk was a bit grouchy, though no more than normal.
Next, Piffle checked on the three rescuees. Still snoozing. George had been flying all night long just to see if he could. Piffle flew up to his altitude and whistled. After a good-morning hug, she pointed him down to the campsite, then peeled her eyes for any sign of Toby.
He and Junella had talked for a very long time. Both of them were quiet at dinner. He hadn't rejoined them for bedtime. Now Piffle spotted the mouse sitting at the foot of the staircase Junella had made. Just from his posture, she had an immediate hunch he'd stayed up all night long. She tutted in worry, hoping he wasn't falling back into somber solitude. 'Maybe it was just insomnia.'
She fluttered down to a silent landing, then put a paw to her mouth. Toby's posture was rock rigid. He looked like he'd been sitting on the bottom step since the beginning of time. Except for his left leg, the only part of him unstatuefied. It jittered up and down like a telegraph needle.
c-clack
Something fell from his hand.
Piffle came closer. Whatever it was, it had fallen into a pile that was all the way up past his knee. "T-Toby?"
The mouse slowly turned his head. She expected it to sound like a creaky door. He blinked with difficulty. "Hey, Piff. Was I being too loud out here?"
She honestly couldn't tell if that had been a joke, but laughed politely anyway. She trotted closer and leaned on the rail. "Nervous energy?" she inquired.
Toby squinted blearily at her, deep bags beneath his pink eyes. Then he looked down to his fidgety leg. "Oh." He made it calm down and sit still.
"No, I meant the other thing. The..." She pointed at the mound engulfing his feet.
Toby had been subconsciously dumbfounding tasers all night long. Hundreds of little black plastic rectangles. The only reason he hadn't buried himself alive in them was that the ones on the bottom disappeared as they were forgotten about. "Um. I was trying to get good at making these."
"Guess that worked out." She patted his shoulder. "Though, no offense, but ya kinda look terrible."
He yawned cavernously. "I'm sure I do. I didn't intend to spend all night out here. It is morning, right?"
She nodded.
"I've just been thinking a lot. Ever since me and Junella talked. I meant to get some sleep, but I couldn't make my mind relax. I came out here. I thought it'd be just for a while."
"Poor Toby," she cooed. "Well, Nurse McPerricone thinks that some nice hot breakfast will do you some good." She tugged his arm. "C'mon! I made a fire!!"
He cocked his head, puzzled that she sounded so proud of something so simple. But Piffle was Piffle. "Okay. Actually, I-" His stomach rumbled. "Actually, I feel like I could eat an aircraft carrier."
"We got enough imaginite to make one," she replied sunnily.
***
Toby worried he might lapse into sleep mid-step, so Piffle solved the problem by gripping his wrists and taking to the air. This startled him into substantial alertness. After a short jaunt with some pleasant in-flight humming, she set him on the carpet, gentle as a leaf.
Zinc had already made himself a tin plate overflowing with steak, sausages, baked beans, fried eggs, and cornbread. "Heyyyy, Toby! Check it out. Real camping-out chow. You look kinda on the fritz. I could make you a plate too if you want."
George was nearby, sitting with his legs tucked beneath him like a giant dead housecat. He nodded greetings to Toby, as did Junella, who was looking like she really would have preferred eight more hours of sleep. She reached over and punched the crust off an imaginite pillar. Wrapping a paw around it, she dreamed herself a cup of clear gold. "Me and my gin," she said fondly. "Keeps me mean."
Toby was about to refuse Zinc's offer by reflex. All those heavy foods? He'd never- 'Stop that,' he told himself. 'Zinc's been wallowing in comfort food since we got here, and look at his mood compared to mine. Maybe some comfort's what I need.' He nodded decisively. "I'd like that very much, Zinc. Thanks. What you've got there looks wonderfoh my goodness Piffle you did make a fire."
She giggled at him finally noticing it.
He walked over to the happy little campfire and noticed that the carpet beneath it wasn't even singed. He bent down. The flames were just resting there, like a throw pillow. Carefully, he poked a steel finger into it. Then his whole hand. "Feels like a July afternoon. Neat."
Zinc and Piffle pulled off a beautiful bit of team-dumbfounding. When the mutt handed her his plate to give to Toby, he covertly kept his grip on it. She took it anyway, creating a duplicate. Zinc resumed eating while Piffle passed the food along. "Here ya go. Eat up!"
Toby tried not to spill anything. Beans were already tumbling off. "Thanks. And nice job on the fire."
She curtseyed. Then she sat down next to the cornucopia and pulled out a hot bowl of cream o' wheat with some Ovaltine.
Junella sipped her liquid breakfast. "How's your head?" she asked Toby.
"Worn-out," he admitted. "I'm hoping I can just convince myself that missing a night of sleep won't matter."
Zinc pointed. "Pass that man some coffee, Piff."
"At your service," she said, tittering. She produced a steamy mug from the closest pillar. "Careful, it's hot."
Toby set his plate down beside him on the log and accepted the cup in both hands. "Yikes, it is!" The warmth soaked right into his palms. It felt pretty good, actually. He hadn't realized it before, but it'd gotten chilly out by the stairs overnight. "I've never had coffee before. Smells good."
"I figured you'd be new to it. I put in a bunch of cream and sugar for you," Piffle said.
Toby looked at her and smiled. Not a huge one. Kind of rickety. It was genuine though.
Junella noticed. She didn't say anything, but felt serenely triumphant.
Toby took a slight sip. Way too hot. He set it down between his feet to keep them toasty as he tried some of Zinc's cowboy food. His eyebrows went up. "This stuff is good." He shoveled in a few more forkfuls and swallowed. "You were right, Zinc."
The canine grinned: 'Of course'.
The smoky, hearty flavors lit up something inside Toby. He was suddenly twice as ravenous as before. He flew through his meal, letting out little satisfied moans and getting his chin and vest spotty. When the coffee cooled a bit, the feel of its smooth heat traveling down his core was even lovelier. In minutes he had a clean plate. But he was still hungry. Or rather, the food was such a pure, simple pleasure, he wanted more of that feeling. He'd spent the night alone with dour thoughts. Now he was cozy with friends around a campfire. He wanted to feel good again.
'While I still can,' his inner voice piped up.
He growled at it. But yes, that was part of the reason. In a few more days, they'd be heading off to bring war to Scaphis' doorstep. There was no guarantee they'd win.
But that was for later. This was now. Toby asked Piffle for the cornucopia. She set it between them so they could share. Toby reached inside the frayed wicker cone and tried to think of some decadent junk he could dive into. He told his brain it could take a vacation: right now the tongue was in charge.
Toby ate like a convorine. The others were amused to see their rail-thin companion losing himself in waffles, sundaes, burgers, onion rings, cakes, and barbecue ribs. With some of these dishes, he needed his friends' help. Having never eaten them before, he had no memories for the cornucopia to work with. They were glad to assist. It was nice to see their mouse happy again.
The fire crackled pleasantly and the travelers talked. Junella came slowly out of her crankiness. She even hummed a few quiet campfire songs.
With knife and fork, Piffle leaned over Zinc's plate and cut up his steak for him. They both knew darn well he could manage it with his wrenches, but he let her anyway. It lit her up to do little things for others. Zinc thought her smile as she busied herself was the prettiest little thing in the world. She even speared one of her strawberries and fed it to him like flying a plane into the hanger.
Meanwhile, George bragged excitedly about the new flying tricks he'd taught himself. Unlike Toby, he'd gone without sleep to no ill effect. He was actually quite chipper, babbling happily about the joys of being airborne. And he had some good news for them too. In testing how far and how fast he could fly, he'd decided to do a bit more experimentation with Dysphoria. This piqued everyone's interest.
George had managed to define the exact border of its influence, dipping in and out until he found the shortest route that could be traveled without even a headache. He said it was a much, much wider parabola than he'd flown with Sire Toby, and apologized for not taking his time and being more thorough then. Toby waved it off as water under the bridge. He was more interested in the applications of this new knowledge. Junella understood right away that it meant a safe route of retreat if they needed to get away from Anasarca in a hurry. Toby agreed, and while he didn't say so yet, he also realized that it meant a way to bring Luxy over if circumstances necessitated backup.
Toby suddenly stopped eating his slice of lemon cake, mid-bite.
His head slowly rose. He looked into the faces of his companions.
Junella smiling wryly. George talking animatedly. Piffle slurping on a milkshake. Zinc burping, then guffawing.
All the sound around the campfire seemed to melt away. Time froze into a photograph. 'They're happy,' Toby marveled. 'We're us again. We're whole.'
The question passed from his lips without him even realizing he'd spoken aloud.
"Are we ready?"
Their heads turned towards him.
"Ready for what?" Zinc asked.
But Toby didn't have to answer. They all suddenly picked up on his wavelength. The clatter of forks across their plates ceased. Piffle put her milkshake down.
They all looked at one another.
There was a reason why they were here. And it wasn't to have a nice time chatting around a campfire. Though, that was a part of it. After being freed from their memory-prisons, they had needed time to recuperate and get themselves back to normal. It had been three days so far. Three of the easiest days any of them had ever spent in Phobiopolis. Now here they were. Smiling easily. No longer tormented by doubt and regret.
One by one, they asked each other silently: 'Are we?'
Junella decided that if no one else was going to be the first to say it, she would. She let her plate of scrambled egg crumbs fall to her feet with a jangle that made everyone jolt. She flung her fork into the dirt. "If you mean, Toby, are we ready to head up the mountain to chop off ol' bitchtruck's head and shit down that outhouse-hole she calls a face, then I'm in."
"Brimming with tact as always, partner," Zinc deadpanned.
She cocked her head at him. "Like you don't wanna cuss at her too? Look at what she did to us. And now that we've kicked up our feet and had a nice rest, I think Toby's right on. I think it's today."
Again, they all exchanged glances.
Piffle kneaded her paws together. "I've been enjoying myself here. Getting to relax, and to be with you, Zinc." She twiddled her antennae at him. "All of you. It's been swell having everyone together again."
Junella thought the hamsterfly was about to launch into excuses why they should put it off for a few more days. Or a week. Instead, she was surprised.
Piffle set her mouth in a small, determined line. "But I know good and well by now, the party has to stop sometime. We can't just sit here. Even though that'd be nice, we can't. We've got work to do."
"Well said, Madam McPerricone," George commended.
"Thanks, Georgie. I think..." She swallowed. "I think, yes, I'm ready to go fight. How about you?"
"I agree that our time here has been pleasant. A treasure to me, in fact." An eager clenched grin spread across the horse's aura. "But I have also felt restless for the unpleasantness to begin."
Zinc snickered. "Attaboy, George. And yeah, now that the question's been popped, I'm in too. I haven't beaten the shit out of anything in days." He rolled his shoulders. "I might be gettin' soft."
Everyone chuckled.
Though Zinc got serious when he pointed his wrench at Toby. "You ain't answered yet."
The mouse was a bit startled. "I..."
"I'm fuckin' serious, Fearless Leader. Are you ready?" The words were a challenge, but there was an edge of real concern to them. Zinc looked into Toby's haunted, bloodshot eyes. He and the others were all well-rested. Toby clearly wasn't.
And the mouse knew it too. Toby was both flustered and grateful to Zinc for putting him on the spot like this. It meant he had to give an answer. It meant he had to search himself and find one. "I..."
"We could take a few more days," Junella said quietly, testing his waters, "if we need to."
"No," Toby said in response. He took a deep breath, about to begin on some kind of inspiring speech. Something about fighting hard and doing their best and... And it all felt hollow. They deserved the truth. "I'm not ready," he said. And the words were oddly uplifting, like a heavy stone rolling off his heart.
"I don't mind a bit more time here," Piffle said comfortingly.
Toby held a hand up. "No," he said again, this time with confidence. "I'm not ready. But we're going today anyway. Because you guys are."
Zinc winced. "Chief, you don't have to pull this crap. You don't have to act brave for us."
"I'm not," Toby said, and his voice was far away. His eyes darted to and fro, not focusing on anything in particular. He was rifling through his mental files and drawers, double-checking that what he was about to say was true. "I'm not ready," he repeated. "When am I ever going to be? When could I possibly be?"
He looked to all of them, feeling a strange boldness begin to stir. "It's one thing to talk about it. To say we're going to. But are any of us ready, really ready, to finish breakfast, put down our plates, stand up, and go pick a fight with the end of the world?"
The others shared uneasy looks, not sure if Toby was calling them liars.
"We're not," he said reassuringly. "Because no one could be. And that's okay. If we're all still kinda banged-up, and me most of all, that's okay too. There's never going to be a perfect moment. I'll never hear a 'ding' and go, 'Oh look! It's time to fight Scaphis!'." He let his hands droop into his lap, one metal, one flesh. "I've been going over my plans over and over. I'm driving myself crazy. I'm doubting myself. But I have to stop that. I made this plan, it's already set in motion, so I have to keep it going. I've gotta trust that it'll be good enough. Luxy even gave it his vote of confidence."
Zinc's tin eyelids shot up. "Luxy's in on this!?"
Toby nodded. "And probably getting seriously impatient with us."
"Well, fuck-a-damn!" Zinc's tail started wagging. "Makes me feel a hell of a lot better knowing it's not just gonna be us five!"
Toby shook his head, grinning a little. "You have no idea. I've got so much I need to fill you guys in on! But lemme finish what I was saying first."
"Go ahead, Toby," Piffle said, staring at him attentively. She reached across to take Zinc's wrench in her paw.
He repositioned himself on the log, then set his jaw and breathed deeply. "The point is, I'm still a wreck. I told Junella some of this yesterday. I've been having, like, an identity crisis for weeks now. 'Is my plan good or bad? Am I good or bad?'" He threw his hands up. "I need to stop caring! Because it's not important! It doesn't matter if I know who I am. It doesn't matter if I know what I am. What matters is that I know what I have to do."
"Fuck yeah," Zinc whispered.
Toby stood up, head low, posture rigid. He looked far from unbreakable. He'd never fully regained the weight Logdorbhok had stripped from him. There were still pink streaks at the corners of his eyes from where his tears had boiled in the sunlight of Scarlatina's sea. But his fists were clenched at his sides. The dancing fire reflected on his metal fingers.
The mouse walked stiffly across the space between them, then knelt in front of Junella and Zinc. He held his arms open. He looked briefly to George and Piffle.
Piffle nudged closer. Zinc cradled a wrench around her, and another around his partner. George scooted awkwardly across the carpet on his knees until he could bump shoulders with Madam Brox and Sire Toby. The skunk let a hand drift to George's forehead and began idly petting him.
Toby leaned in and draped his weary arms around them all. It was a good thing they were huddled like this, because his words were barely above a whisper.
"I already lost you once. And then I met a new family, and I lost them too. I don't know if I can go through that again and stay sane. But it's not about what I want. It's not about my grief. Piffle already said it: we've got work to do. But she's also right that it would be nice if we didn't have to. So let's just... grieve for that idea, okay?" He sniffed.
"Let's just... Guys, I cannot tell you how much I want to just forget everything and stay here for the rest of my life with you. Abandon the plan. Ignore Scaphis. Just stay where we're safe and we've got good food and a warm campfire. George can practice flying, and Junella can read her books. And I don't have to lose any of you." A sob caught in his throat. "Because it could happen. I'm not ready, but we have to, and this could be the last time we ever spend together. Scaphis could take out any of us. All of us. Of course I'm not ready for that..."
Tears had arrived now, rolling down the end of his muzzle to splash against the grey ground. "We could stay here. On vacation. Just, hide out together and not have to fight. We could make a house. We could have a nice life. We could stay here. We could. We could. But we can't."
At that the tears turned to floodwaters. Toby felt timbers inside of him break and give way. He fell onto his friends' shoulders and began to cry with helpless intensity. The tears had not come yesterday, but they were here now. His mind's eye saw all of them. George, Piffle, Zinc, Junella. Skeeto, Tak, and Kat. Luxy and Dorster and Lady Xenoiko and L'roon and Gilla and Red and everyone else he loved. He imagined their portraits fading into dust. Envisioned losing everyone. That would be the worst fate; to end up the lone survivor of the battle to come. And it could happen that way. There was only so much he could plan for. He'd tried to give himself every advantage, but Scaphis could still be stronger. He might've underestimated her by light years. He'd never know until it was too late. If they fought, she might kill all his friends. Not a Phobiopolis death where you bounced back to life a moment later, dizzy but fine. She could pick them up and throw them across the universe. Steal their memories permanently. She could spit them into Logdorbhok's eager hands. He might lose everyone today.
So the tears fell like rain. But Toby comforted himself with knowing that, right here and now, their arms were around each other. In this moment, they were still all together. His best friends. Whatever else happened, they would have this moment right now.
Toby cried until he thought he'd choke. The part of his brain that could not stop thinking strategically said that this was a good thing. Get his emotions out now before the battle. Keep a clear head during it. Toby told that part of himself to shut the hell up and let him have this without any interruption. It didn't matter why he needed to do this, he needed to. Soft fur and a carapace. Pitted metal. Record grooves. Charred bone. These textures meant more to him than his own life. If today was the last day he felt them, he wanted to burn the memory into his soul so deep that Scaphis could never blot it out.
The others cried too. All of them. Piffle started first. Zinc and Junella held out for a while, but their facades eventually fell and their teardrops dotted the ground. George had no tear ducts, but that was unimportant. His bones shook and his inner colors flickered as he touched his forehead to his friends'.
They made the moment last for as long as they could.
But sooner or later, eyes run dry and muscles cramp. Zinc drew in a long, deep breath, then let it out. His chest shuddered. He hadn't felt this scared a moment ago. Or maybe he hadn't let himself face that fear. "F'r starters, Toby, fuck you for makin' me weep like a baby."
The mouse couldn't help a snorted laugh.
"Th' hell are you trying to do to me? In front of my girl? I got an image to uphold."
George and Piffle both snickered. Junella whacked Zinc lightly on the seat of his pants with her tail.
"For seconds though," the canine said, "I think it's about time our Fearless Leader let us in on all the details of his grand plan."
Toby sniffed up a rope of snot. His eyes were practically a lake, but he couldn't take his arms away to wipe them off. "Yeah," he said. "I think that's a good idea too. Are we ready?" he asked again. Wanting real answers this time, now that they all knew the consequences. "I'm still not, but I am."
With 100% sincerity, George intoned, "I am at your side till the heavens collapse, Sire Toby."
"Me too," Piffle pledged. "I don't know what'll happen, but we'll be together when it does."
Zinc nodded. "I can think of worse ways to go out."
Junella looked at the others with her Halloween-orange eyes. "Let me make this clear. I promise, to all of you, that I will fight on until there's not a speck of me left in eternity. For all the pretty reasons you just said, Toby..." She gave him a light kiss on the forehead.
He smiled.
"And also because, ain't nobody turns Junella Brox into a fuckin' footstool and lives."
All five of them broke up laughing. Which led to more crying. Which led to more laughing.
***
And so he told them the plan. Every nut and bolt. Every stitch and seam. Once Piffle dumbfounded some tissues for everyone and they got their tears under control, they sat around the campfire and Toby unleashed a flood of details. There were gasps. There were disbelieving stares. But there were no objections.
Zinc whistled at the names of the expeditioners. "I can't believe you got so many old legends out of mothballs for this, Toby."
Modest as ever, he shrugged. "Luxy did the networking. I just had the idea."
"Still!" the canine exploded. "Waxacada and Driuwej!? Everybody thought those guys fell off the edge of reality a hunnert years ago! Where'd he dig 'em up?"
Toby just shrugged.
The canine marveled breathlessly, "Ike Fanshaw is just across Dysphoria from us, and I ain't got my autograph book." He shook his head. "Though, and this is not a complaint, all those old wizards, plus Luxy, plus Red, plus the Bargeld, plus us... Ain't that kinda overkill?"
Junella pointed a needle at him. "Better safe than sorry."
"No, it is," Toby conceded. "Overkill's exactly what I was going for. Nothing would make me happier than if we threw all this at Scaphis and K.O.'d her in ten seconds. But she's already powerful to a level I have no comprehension of. Plus she has Aldridge's wand! I am not taking any chances! The one advantage we've solidly got on our side is that there's a lot of us. Whatever it is she's gonna retaliate with, it'll take concentration. So we're not going to allow that. There are going to be so many people doing so many horrible things to her from all angles, her ability to deal with any one of us is going to be chopped into fractions."
Zinc grinned and shook his head. "Woooo-wee. I still can't believe logistics this good is coming out of our meek li'l mouse. What's that thing people say? 'Devils run in terror when a good man goes to war'?"
"I like the sound of that," Piffle said.
"Saw it in a comic book somewheres," he replied.
"That is where some of this stuff is coming from," Toby admitted. "Don't forget: I spent a lot of years reading adventure books and watching action movies." He shrugged. "Though I've tried my best to sort out what's actually plausible from what's, y'know, geeky hero fantasies."
"If an idea works, its origin is inconsequential," George said reassuringly.
Toby appreciated that. "Thank you, George."
Junella had been pensively chewing on a cherry stem as she listened. Now she spat it out and sat up. "Allright. I like everything you've said so far, Toby. We got ground troops. We got a great big gift for Scaphis. Might even have a surprise guest star. So what do we do?" she asked, indicating herself and the others around the campfire. "I want specifics. What've you got cooked up for us when we're facing her?"
Toby knew this would not go down easy. He looked Junella dead in the eye. "There is no plan past that point. Once the fight starts, it's all improv."
The others could see a hurricane-force blast of incredulous outrage about to erupt from the skunk. However, even though her eyebrows nearly touched the sky, she kept her lips clamped shut. Her expression conveyed to Toby that she was waiting to hear his explanation for this.
"I think I understand," Piffle squeaked.
Everyone looked at her.
"It's like you were saying to me, Toby, 'bout how I'm unpredictable? If we all are, well, then, we'll wind her up like a cuckoo clock."
Toby gave her an immense smile for nailing it on the nose. "That's it! To be perfectly honest, I came up with a TON of plans for Scaphis. Hundreds of ideas. All sorts of clever, macho, bullshit. Stuff that'd work in a movie, but any villain with half a brain cell in the real world would see right through it. No. The ideas I settled on are all pre-planning. Setting everything in place for the right moment. Then when we spring it..." He mimed an explosion with his hands. "Complete chaos. I only have a few vague ideas for stuff she'll try. Most obviously, she'll grab us and squeeze us like an octopus. And that's why I told Air Marshall Piffle to fly around and pop us if that happens."
She saluted him with a bright smile.
"Other than that..." Toby shrugged. "She's made of liquid. She's really powerful and really pissed. Your guess is as good as mine what she'll do with that. And since I can't know, I can't know how to counter it. All I know is, like..." He trailed off, then thought of a good explanatory example. "George, you remember the market battle?"
"Only what you described, Sire Toby," he said. "My own memory of the event was in a fog."
"Right, right. Anyway, you were totally berserk, kicking people and snorting up fireballs and stuff. And I had to get you under control somehow while also not getting killed. I did things in that fight, there's no way I could've planned them beforehand. But in the moment, I needed to win, so ideas just... came outta me."
Zinc pointed a wrench. "You don't gotta explain the concept to me 'n Junebug. We been there before, plenty. I just call it 'battle smarts'. Either some horrible shit's gonna go down, or you pull a brilliant plan entirely out of your ass and prevent it. Like me standing on the roof of the Fearsleigher, makin' myself a double windmill to knock zombies out of the park."
"Or having Junella make me big so I could swat biteranodons," Piffle remembered.
"Or figuring how to get rid of them cat heads while driving a zillion miles per hour up a freeway loop," Junella recalled.
"Or when I calculated that it would be necessary to impair one ferris wheel to stop another," George added.
Toby nodded to all of them. "Yes, yes, yes, and yes. That's the kind of crazy split-second thinking we need. And you can only get it by being in the moment and needing it to happen."
Junella tossed a grin at him. "You want us all to be like you. Throwin' paint cans at the moon."
"Exactly!!" he exploded. He collapsed with his head in his lap, mumbling, "I am so glad you guys are okay with this. I was worried you'd call me a lunatic and tie me up in the trunk." His head popped up. "Not literally. I've got more faith in you than that."
"You were worried your ideas wouldn't be good enough for us," Junella summarized. "That we'd have better ones and we'd take over."
Toby made a 'kinda sorta' gesture. "I was worried I'd disappoint you, yes. But I absolutely wouldn't mind if you upstaged me. I told Luxy the same thing. All I care about is good ideas. They don't all have to come from me."
She nodded approvingly. "Rest easy, mouse. If I have anything better, I'll say so. And nothin's come up so far, so that oughtta let you know how you're doing."
"Thank you," he said.
"Admittedly..." She sat up sternly. "For a second there, when you said we were just gonna wing it, I was ready to bite your head off. But then I thought, 'Waitaminnit, isn't this exactly the same deal me and Zinc laid out for Dysphoria? Plan ahead like crazy, then once you're inside, just hold on tight and see what happens?'" She shrugged. "Can't argue with myself."
"That helped inspire me," Toby acknowledged. "Also the part about, 'if you don't have a perfect plan, but you've got a lot of little ones, use all the little ones at once'."
George cleared his throat.
"...George was invaluably inspirational too," Toby corrected.
The stallion nodded, satisfied.
Toby looked back to Junella. "But let me reassure you. There's no solid plan for Scaphis, but there is an end goal." He hesitated, fidgeting. There was absolutely nothing noble about this. "She wins if she captures all of us at once. We win if we get Aldridge out. And to do that..." he grimaced, "we torture her until she surrenders. Simple as that."
Zinc grimaced. "Not to put too fine a point on it, eh?"
Toby turned to him, and his eyes showed how agonizing this decision had been to make. "Let's be honest. We are going to inflict pain until she gives up the wand and Aldridge. There's not going to be any compromise. No forgiveness. We are going to hurt her until she does what we want. We are going to make her suffer until we break her will." His tone was quiet, but iron-firm. He wanted all of them to face this without illusion or euphemism.
Junella leaned back and cracked her knuckles. "I am one-hun-dred percent comfortable with this."
"No surprises there, partner." Zinc grunted. "I try not to put what I do in such unheroic terms, but, yeah." He cast a sidelong look at Piffle.
She put all four hands on her hips, offended. "I'm not gonna wimp out! I told you I would fight and I will. You know I don't like to, but she's not giving us a choice. She'll swallow the whole world if we don't."
George clopped a hoof in applause.
Toby looked up. "I'm glad you said that, Piffle. About this being bigger than us."
The others turned to him and felt a chill. Something in him had changed. He sat with his elbows on his knees, fingers steepled, forehead resting against them.
When he spoke again, it was in the most coldly serious tone they'd ever heard from him. "We are not heroes."
"Oh Toby! But you are heroic!" Piffle said immediately, trying to be comforting.
Zinc made a 'hold it' gesture to her. The mouse had more to say.
Toby didn't look directly at any of them. His gaze was on the future. "What I meant is, we're not the good guys in a fairy tale. There's no audience watching us that has to be handed a happy ending. We're alone out here. We have each other, yes, but nothing's gonna come out of the sky to magically spin fate for us. We have to do this ourselves, with our own hands. We have to win. There is no ambiguity about this. We have to win. And we have to do it in one shot. There will not be a second chance. If we fail today, even if we manage to escape, there is no rematch. Because, if she doesn't know we're coming, we can prepare. If she does know, then she can prepare. That means we lose. Luxy told me how diabolical she is, and ruthless. We only win if we catch her off guard and keep her dizzy. We win by stacking the deck. By making sure it's never a fair fight. We can't afford to be heroes. We have to cheat. We have to be brutal. We have to be ready to lose everything, even each other, even ourselves. Because if we lose this fight, the world ends. Period. No second chance. We have to win at ANY cost."
"Jesus Christ, Toby..." Zinc muttered.
The mouse looked up slightly. The others could see his emotionless slab of an expression. And the tears on his cheeks. And the firelight reflected in his eyes. "We leave nothing in reserve. We hold nothing back. Our survival doesn't matter. We are not doing this for us. We're doing it for everyone down there. Because someone has to. Or else she takes everything. There is no future unless we give everything right now."
The others were silent. The only voice was the campfire.
Toby slowly blinked. "I'm... sorry. That was too much. I was just letting my worries ramble. I..."
"You're right about all of it," Junella said. "I couldn't have put it better."
"Thank you. I wish I wasn't," Toby said.
Zinc wasn't looking at either of them. He was staring down at his chest. At the location of a little round faux-fur patch.
Piffle realized what he was thinking. "No!"
"He said everything, Piff." The canine looked somberly up at Toby. "Did I ever show you this?"
Toby blinked. "I don't know what you mean."
Zinc cut to the chase and tugged the patches aside, front and back. He nodded to Piffle, who lifted up his jacket so the light could shine through.
Toby's eyes widened. George leaned in close. Junella had always known, but it was still a marvel to behold.
Zinc let them all get a good look at the golden dynamo that whizzed eternally back-and-forth in his chest's transparent chamber. "I got a tin man's heart."
Piffle gazed and rubbed her beau's wiry stomach. "I'm glad I get to see it again. It's like a little gold hummingbird."
He smiled that it brought her enjoyment.
Toby was a bit dumbstruck. "I'm surprised I never knew this about you."
A shrug. "I showed it to Piffle once when we were ridin' on Red, but you were distracted at the time. I normally keep it under wraps. For one, sunlight's not good for the mechanism. For two, it's better if most people don't know I'm walking around with enough kinetic energy in my ribs to level Mount Rushmore."
Toby recoiled. "Seriously?"
"Only a bit of an exaggeration. If I let this thing out, it'd tear Scaphis up good, I guarantee it. Imagine a spinning top with the force of an earthquake. But the thing is, if I do let it out..." He held out his wrenches. "These stop working."
"Geez, I'm sorry to hear that..." Toby nibbled his finger absent-mindedly. "But... wasn't Cleanup Crew able to use them?"
"Sure. Short bursts, yeah. But without a powerhouse, there's no power. They'd be just as strong as, well, regular ol' limbs."
Toby remembered Zinc's revulsion towards his own skinny flesh-and-blood arms. "I would never want to take away something that's such an important part of you. So, how about we make that our Plan Z?"
"Secret weapon of last resort?" he guessed.
"Exactly. If you have to, I will take you anywhere in the world you need to go to get another one of... whatever-that-is. But we'll need your wrenches in the fight. So hold off on unleashing it unless we run dry and Scaphis is still going strong."
Zinc nodded; a soldier accepting orders.
Piffle took the fur patches and re-arranged them just as they'd been. "I hate to even think about it."
"No sweat, pussycat. I'll be okay." He rustled her headfur. Then he cocked his head vaguely behind-a-ways. "What about the car?"
"What about it?" Toby asked.
"How do we get it up the mountain? Guess you could swallow it again, Ju-"
"We're leaving it here," she said. She glanced at Toby for confirmation.
He nodded, glad she was syncing with him so well.
She explained to Zinc, "When we're up there bashing The Blob, the Fearsleigher'll be armored, but too big a target. We wanna be mosquitoes buzzing around her head. Cockroaches darting around her feet. If there's one bit of strategy we can definitely apply, no matter what she does, it's to keep our asses moving."
Toby pointed at her. "Yes. It's more important that she misses than we hit."
Junella mimed her revolver. "Don't take time to aim. Shoot wild. You'll probly hit her anyway. I wanna see a lot of strategic retreat while firing behind our backs. If you do stand out there in the open and pull some dumbass hero shit," she gave a cocky grin, "either let it be a distraction for somebody else, or really make it count."
Zinc nodded. "All clear, partner. I just..." he looked over his shoulder at his beloved spiky behemoth. "If we're gonna go out in a blaze of glory, she deserves to too."
Junella patted his wrench. Craftsmen always see their creations as children. "I know how you feel. But we're still keeping her parked. That way, even if we all get 86'd, she'll still be here. Like a marker. Like that plaque up on the moon."
A slow, fond smile spread across the canine's muzzle. "Yeah, okay. I like that."
"Not to say we ain't gonna unload her a bit first," the skunk added. "Piff, if you're gonna be our supply chief, I want you to go rummage 'round in the back and the hood. Get all our bang-bangs out and familiarize yourself enough to make more if we need 'em. 'Specially Zinc's shotgun."
Piffle saluted. "Will do, Sergeant Skunktail."
Junella stifled a chuckle. "Toby? Zinc? You guys want any treats from the trunk?"
Toby thought a bit. "The egg bombs would be nice, but they won't work on her since she's not a construct... Oh! I'll want my bracers back, and my returning pouch," he remembered.
Zinc shook his head. "I'm wearing all I need. Though, we got enough imaginite around for a little surprise I've been dreamin' up. Plus," he ran a wrench through the air above his head, "I been thinkin' about getting my 'do back."
Junella was rather curious to finally see him with hair. "I got somethin' too. Scaphis saw me buy it at Lalochezia, but she only saw me use it to weld our collars together. 'Member that green backpack? Works as a torch, but its main use is the same as those pig-control sticks in EC. Got a generator in the pack and two wands. The tips heat up fierce. Ever stuck your finger in a bug zapper?"
Piffle winced. "Ooch."
"Scaphis ain't gonna like me," the skunk said, smirking. "What about you George? Want us to nail some machine guns to your backside?"
He whinnied a laugh. "I do not believe I will need them. Similar to Sir Zinc, I travel light and am well-armed wherever I go."
Toby was reminded of something else. He reached in his shorts for the remaining vials of L'roon's transformation potion. He counted out eight, then handed four of them to Piffle. "Here, I want you to guard these. We might need them in battle."
Piffle solemnly accepted the precious little tubes into her cupped palms. She tucked them away in her dress and gave the pocket a pat. "I'll keep 'em safe, Toby. Scout's honor. You holdin' onto the other ones for just-in-casies?"
An enigmatic grin. "Not quite. Two of them have a specific use later. The remaining two are for you guys." And he handed one each to a surprised Zinc and Junella.
The canine blinked at the capsule.
Junella arched an eyebrow. "I thought these were just for constructs?"
Toby's grin edged close to cryptic. "I gave L'roon very specific instructions."
"So, these are gonna...?" Zinc flapped his wrenches.
"They are," Toby said. "The safest place to hide is up. I go in first. You guys drop down after the smoke clears."
George looked aggrieved. "I could have carried them, Sire Toby."
Toby was surprised by the ache in his friend's voice. "I'm sure you could. But you're with me when it starts, remember?"
"Ah, yes!" George recalled. "Still..." He gazed forlornly at the two small vials in Sire Toby's hand. "Eight remaining is a respectable amount. Though I lament the fact that, once they are gone, my flying days will end."
Toby smiled gently and put his hands on his hips. "George. C'mon. Are you telling me you can't remember the feel of your wings enough to regrow them without a potion?"
George's spectral ears pricked up. "Could I?" He pondered for a moment. "The possibility had not occurred to me. It would be similar to dumbfounding."
"You made an apple a while back," Zinc remembered.
"I was utilizing imaginite to do so, but both involve the force of one's will. Parasomnic constructs are not normally capable of such a feat."
Zinc reached behind him and crunched off a chunk of the shiny mineral. He hucked it in George's direction.
It was an apple when it landed between his hooves.
"You seem capable to me, hoss," Zinc said.
George stared at it. He muttered under his breath, "I have not yet let myself consider the ramifications of this ability. If I am using will, it means I am more than I began as. How much more, I am not sure I dare to say."
"I don't know how much either," Toby said. "But I know you've earned every bit of it."
The stallion bowed his head. "Thank you, Sire."
Zinc looked around at everyone. It felt like that last moment had gotten everything settled. He patted his knees. "So. My engine's idling. Everyone ready to race?"
Toby held up a finger. "There's one more thing." He did not look confident about it. Almost queasy. "I've been thinking about Dysphoria, and the idea I added to it. Junella, you said the Adderalls helped us all get through. I thought I'd ask everyone, should we try them again?"
The response seemed to be a unanimous, 'Ehhhh...?'
Junella crossed her arms. "I think the adrenaline'll be enough of a pep-me-up."
"I considered that," Toby said.
"That place tricked with our heads," she said. "This'll be a regular fistfight, right?"
"She might try the-" Piffle waggled her tongue. "-thing again and brainwash us."
"I don't think pills are gonna stop that. Best to prevent it from happening, period," Junella countered.
Piffle accepted this. That was her job, after all.
Zinc pointed a wrench at Toby. "Plus, chief, ain't you already swallowed enough pills in your life?"
That clinched it. Toby nodded decisively. "Right. I figured this would be the reaction. I just wanted to put everything on the table. All possibilities. That's kind of what I've been obsessing over for the past few however-long-it's-been." He sighed at this next step. Closing his eyes and concentrating, he reached out blindly and felt his hand wrap around a little plastic pill bottle.
Zinc went crosseyed. "Didn't we just-!?"
"Oh, these aren't Adderalls!" Toby reassured him. "These are..." He looked at the bottle, reading the name on the printed label. Fentanyl. He gulped. "These are for the next part. Mom used to give them to me when nothing else worked. Two were enough to black out just about anything." He held down the cap, squeezed, unscrewed, then let everyone watch as he deliberately tipped out four into his palm. He gulped all of them, then dumbfounded a Rain to wash them down.
Piffle looked horrified. "Jeezum crow, Toby! What're you gonna do?"
Toby shook his head, then finished swallowing. "Not me. You. Piffle, you're gonna sit next to me and talk me through it. Zinc, George, you're gonna hold me down. Junella, I trust you with the blade."
All of them looked uneasy, though none more so than Toby. The skunk glanced at her cutlass. "You want me to...?" She drew a finger across her throat.
"No. Not kill me. You've got to keep me alive for this." He grimaced. "Heck, I'll just show you." He turned and looked out across the rock pillars towards the arena. He concentrated as hard as he could, calling with his mind.
They soon heard running footsteps.
Everyone turned, and gawked at the strange figure running towards them.
Junella couldn't decide if she felt more horror or astonishment. "What the hell kinda Pinocchio nightmare horseshit is this!?"
Piffle gasped as things went click in her mind. "The pigdroid was just a prototype..."
Toby took another swig of water. "Sorry I didn't tell you guys about him earlier. Honestly, I didn't want to think about it much myself. I'd better explain quick, because I'm pretty sure I'm not gonna be able to say anything but screams once we get started."
-***-