Alex Reynard

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Part Seventy-One

His accent was buttery soft, with a small, precise voice ill-fitting for a mouth that enormous. The catfish's head spilled out of his robe like a great speckled brown tongue. Small eyes scrutinized the travelers. Whiskers twitched.

"Uh..." said Zinc.

Aldridge smacked his forehead. "Oh no, forgive me, I'm misremembering from years ago! Good gosh! You came here to talk, didn't you? You actually made it past Dysphoria and everything!?"

Junella took the lead. She stepped forward, stood up straight, and put on her 'diplomacy' tone. "Good morning, sir. I hope we're not interrupting anything. We have traveled vast distances, across monstrous terrain, all to meet with you. We came for a variety of reasons, mostly on behalf of my client here." She put her arm out, expecting the mouse to be there. "...Toby?"

Toby had melted back behind George, suddenly feeling like he had no right to be here. After getting over the surprise of finding out the guy was a fish, Toby could see that there was just something about Aldridge. He didn't need a starry cloak and pointed cap to have a certain aura. Or maybe it was mere anticipation, wanting him to be more grand than he was. It was also possible this was just John Q. Average standing here in his bathrobe. Maybe all the stories were just myths, or maybe his magic had been used up over the years. Doubts of all kinds swirled around the mouse's head.

Junella grabbed him by the collar and pulled him into Aldridge's view. "Grrk!"

"Like I said, my client." Junella displayed him like a home appliance. "My partner and I, our bankroller, and our transportation, have all come a long way to ask for your help."

George piped up, "Again, we apologize if this is an imposition."

Aldridge handwaved that, absently. "Nothing to apologize for." He didn't look George's way because he was staring down at Toby. Through him.

The mouse froze like a deer in the headlights. Aldridge's beady eyes swam over him like they were taking inventory of his every thought and memory. "Hello, sir," he squeaked out. He extended his paw.

It was gently accepted. "You're in conflict," Aldridge said softly, to Toby alone.

Well, he couldn't deny that. "Yes, sir."

The catfish gave the mouse a subtle nod to convey that any reluctance was forgiven. Then the private moment was broken and Aldridge looked back to the group. He clasped his hands together in a firm rub. "Now then! It's been a while, but I think I still remember my manners. You've come to me for favors and granting them is usually quite fun. Let me just wand you over. Then you can come inside, have a sit on the sofa, and Becca will make tea."

Toby looked down at his paw. Aldridge had actually touched him. And a fish's hand wasn't anywhere near as slimy as he would have expected.

From deeper inside the house, kitchen sounds were heard. Aldridge reached to the side of the doorway and brought out an honest-to-gosh magic wand. The shaft was simple wood, but the tip featured a tangerine-sized gem as blue as the ocean.

Zinc was transfixed. The gem sparkled in his eyes. He felt himself salivating. "I've never seen one that big," he husked.

"That's because there aren't any others this big," Aldridge replied. He made passes over the canine, saw nothing unusual, then moved on to the others.

Toby was momentarily sure the wand would call him a liar and zap him to cinders, but instead nothing happened as it hovered over his head. Junella also raised no alarm.

Piffle's antennae perked in resonance with the wand as it passed them over. Aldridge was confused by the 'readings' for a moment, and grimaced a little at Doll. But then he shrugged and moved onto George. Now he really got perplexed. His initial assumption had been transformation accident, then his senses said parasomnic construct, and now the wand was telling him even more conflicting information.

George fidgeted. "Shall I stay in the yard, Sir Aldridge?"

The wizard squinted at him. "That's quite allright. So long as you wipe your feet I'd be-" Suddenly a lightbulb clicked on. "Oh, wait! You're ascended, aren't you? Goodness me, your kind only turn up once in a generation! Congrats, dear fellow!"

George was overjoyed to be so warmly accepted. "Thank you very much for saying so, Sir Aldridge!"

Aldridge hung the wand back in its nook beside various housekeys. "Righto, that's it, that's all. Let's sit by the fire and discuss."

They all moved a little closer but couldn't go farther. Junella dared to state the obvious. "Um, sir, you're blocking the door."

He blinked. "Sorry. Forgot." And then he disappeared.

The wizard seemed to turn himself off like a light switch. They were all startled, but another glance showed that he was still present, just extremely transparent. Perhaps five or ten percent opacity. His face was still frozen in the last expression he'd shown. Junella stepped up onto the welcome mat and waved her hand through the space he'd been occupying. Nothing. It felt like regular old air.

"I guess wizards do this kind of thing." She wiped her feet and stepped inside.

Everyone else passed through Aldridge's afterimage as well. Piffle was barefoot again, so she could appreciate the luxuriantly soft carpet. She cooed and rubbed her toes back and forth in it. George ducked his head through the doorway and was exceedingly careful not to bump into anything. Already he could tell this would be a challenge. The house was nearly as full of Delicate Things On Shelves as the Jennie-Mae.

Toby nervously stepped past the threshold, still somewhat worried that the house would recognize something unclean in him and exorcise him off the property. Nothing like that happened though. In fact, he felt somewhat lighter when he entered. Like stepping out of pollution into cleaner air.

The look of the livingroom was fairly predictable from the house's outside aesthetic. More yellow, green and red, but with touches of blue and purple. Tasteful and comfortable. To one side was a fireplace with a crackling blaze already lit. Close by was a recessed conversation pit with a horseshoe-shaped sofa nestled inside. There were artworks displayed in every space that wasn't already taken up by shelves. Books and trinkets abounded. There was even a surprisingly up-to-date television entertainment system above the fireplace.

Zinc was staring with naked lust at Aldridge's wand, clearly fighting the urge to snatch it up and run away.

"What IS it?" Piffle asked him.

"It's a Zulamang Drop..." he husked reverently. "I've only had my hands on fake ones before. You know how a megaphone amplifies yer voice?" She nodded. "A pea-sized pebble of this stuff can amplify willpower. Focus it into a scalpel."

She gawked. "Oooh!"

Zinc scratched his cheek. "I can't believe he just keeps it hanging there. Not locked up in a vault or nothin'."

A reply came from across the room. "No need for locks or guard dogs! There's no better home security than my Rebecca!"

A pleased giggle from the kitchen.

Zinc looked around for the source of the voice and saw an ibex in a blue bathrobe standing by the fireplace. He didn't even have to ask if it was Aldridge. Same voice, same bearing. But how? And why?

Aldridge answered Zinc's questioning expression with a demonstration. The ibex vanished just like the catfish had, while at the same time, a lop-eared rabbit popped into visibility closer to the door. Same bathrobe.

All around the room were extra Aldridges. They were hard to spot at first, until Zinc adjusted his eyes to the slight distortion. Each unused body was clear as ice until he inhabited it.

The rabbit shrugged. "For convenience."

Rebecca's voice called out, "Don't just stand there showing off, honeycomb. Introductions!"

"Yes, right. Um. I presume you all know who I am." He put a hand to his chest. "Albion nomiddlename Aldridge, pleased to meet you. You can carry on addressing me as Aldridge, though I like Brian just fine too."

"Hi, Bri," said Zinc.

A bow towards the metallic canine, then a sweep of the hand towards the kitchen. "Mastering the teapot this evening is my beloved wife, Rebecca Polidori Aldridge."

"Almost done!" she hollered.

The wizard looked to his assembled guests. "And you?"

One by one they gave their names. Junella did a low, regal bow. Piffle pulled off a curtsey as best she could while holding Doll. Zinc shook hands vigorously. George extended his hoof as well. Toby just waved a little from the back of the pack.

"Excellent," Aldridge said, clapping his hands. "I'm exceptionally pleased to meet you all. And not just because it's been the two of us alone up here for... well... Let's just say a long time. Quiet togetherness is nice, but interruptions in routine can be much-welcomed too." He indicated the sofa. "Shall we?" The rabbit vanished and the ibex reappeared.

The travelers walked towards the fireplace and were a bit startled to see furniture and shelves adjusting themselves out of everyone's way. And when they stepped down into the conversation pit to choose seats on the couch, the cushions seemed to fluff themselves and curl around whomever sat upon them. George remained standing, but felt envious of how cozy it looked.

Aldridge pointed to Junella. "Could you scoot over one seat more, my dear?"

She belatedly realized she'd sat down right in the middle of one of his spare bodies. "Whoops. Didn't see you there."

As soon as she moved, a slender red panda in a blue bathrobe popped into existence beside her. Legs crossed, hands on knee. "There we are. Everyone sitting comfortably?"

Agreement from the others. Piffle bounced a bit on the cushions. They were as beautifully blue as Aldridge's wand.

"Good good good. Now, I'm sure you're all eager to ask me for whatever it is you came all this way to ask me for, but if you'll indulge me, I always like to get to know people first. I'm sure you have questions about me, and I have some for you as well."

Toby was seated furthest from Aldridge. He turned his attention away, looking around the room. So many little treasures on shelves. He wondered about their stories. He realized that he was really just letting himself be distracted away from his own embarrassment to be here. Sooner or later it would come up. Junella or Zinc would mention his quest to return home. And he'd have to find some way to pretend he didn't already know the answer Aldridge would give. He found himself staring at a strange object on the far side of the room. Some kind of large sculpture on a rotating base.

Everyone else looked at each other, not sure who should speak first.

Finally Junella was bold enough. "Are the stories true? I mean, I've heard them everywhere. Zinc was telling some in the car earlier. About how you built so much and fought the nightmares and ended the war and then... you just kinda bugged out."

Aldridge smiled with a long-ago look. For the first time the others noticed that, despite his cheerful first impression, there was a deep and silent sadness written on his face. A weary melancholy always present in his eyes. He suddenly seemed very small and fragile to them. "I suppose most of them are true," he said, and licked his lips. "I admit I used to be much more active. I was like a 'super hero' to some people. But it wasn't a job I set out wanting. I've merely been here long enough to... Well, have you ever played a video game long enough to see the cracks in the simulacrum? You begin to understand the real rules of the game, not just as presented but programmed. Same for me. I'm no great magician. I'm just this realm's oldest resident, and I've had a lot of time to learn how to cheat."

Piffle wasn't sure what a video game was, but could follow the context well enough.

Junella was stunned. This was nothing like what she expected. Certainly it didn't resemble the confident, crusading Aldridge his legends portrayed. "How long have you been here?"

A shrug. "I can't remember. Though long enough to know how Phobiopolis formed and why we're all here."

A rattling cart approached from the hallway. "Sorry to butt in. Tea's ready."

The travelers all looked up, expecting to finally see the elusive Rebecca Polidori Aldridge. Instead, they saw a lone tea service rolling by itself towards them. It slalomed around the bookshelves, down the ramp, and into the conversation pit where it came to a graceful stop.

Piffle thought of Mr. Woofingbutter. "Did you get invisible'd?" she asked Rebecca.

A chuckle. "Nope! I'm the house!"

"What?" Junella sputtered. That was a bit unusual, even for Phobiopolis.

They could practically hear Rebecca smile. "Yup, and everything in it! I'm the roof, the walls, the carpet, the works. The only thing I'm not is the lawn and the only thing I'm missing is a bathroom. For obvious, smelly reasons. You're sitting on me, you're watching me burn in the fireplace, you even wiped your feet on me before you came in."

"I had no idea, Madam!" George yelped. "I am genuinely sorry!"

She cackled. "Don't be! Felt like a backscratch. I have Aldy scuff his feet across me all the time when I get an itch."

Piffle was thrilled by the idea. Of all the things she'd been before, she'd never been a whole house! "That's amazing! So you were just making tea with yourself, out of yourself!?"

More laughter. Rebecca clearly enjoyed their reactions. "You're getting' it, kid!"

It was a bit hard to envision, but Piffle had enjoyed being a meal on several occasions, so she could at least understand that part. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more the idea appealed to her. She imagined all her friends living inside her. She could always keep them cozy and happy.

Zinc looked at the ceiling, as if in search of a mouth somewhere. "Not to be rude but, uh, were you born a house or did you convert?"

A little bit of levity left her voice. "Nah, I started out as a plain ol' coyote. That's what I was with Brian back in them old castle days."

Zinc nodded. "We noticed it outside. Nice digs, or useta be."

"They were," Rebecca agreed with a bit of yearning. "Ah, but don't weep for me now. I've been like this for ages. Aldy busted his brain trying to change me back, and after a while I told him I wanted to just try it out for a little while. As you can see, that little while lasted. I like being a house. Only real drawback is, everything on TV looks backwards. But, oh man, there's nothing more close than sharing a book with someone when you're the book!"

Piffle cooed. That sounded very romantic.

"And if I ever really wanted to turn back, I know I could. Pretty sure. Heck, I can change my appearance whenever I like." She demonstrated by briefly sending everything in the room through every color in the spectrum: wallpaper, ceiling, even the sofa they were sitting on. It was a bit startling. When things went back to normal, it felt like the end of a carnival ride.

The teapot started floating around, filling cups. Then a sofa pillow nuzzled Aldridge's ear. "Plus I get to entertain guests, and always keep track of my absent-minded fuzzy sweetcheeks."

The wizard smiled broadly.

Literal flying saucers brought steaming cups to everyone. The aroma was delectable. As Zinc very, very carefully clamped onto the delicate china handle of his cup, he thought about the mechanics of Brian and Rebecca's relationship. "So, how's all this work in the bedroom?" he blurted, then immediately winced, realizing the inappropriateness of the question only after it was already out.

Aldridge grinned wickedly. "A gentleman never tells. But I will say that we've had lots of time to get creative."

A pillow bopped him playfully on the head.

Junella tested her tea's temperature, not wanting it to melt her mouth. It was actually just about perfect. And the taste was indescribable. It made her think of autumn and faraway villages and calligraphy.

Rebecca recognized that dreamy smile. "Like it? It's something I used to pick up in Scarlatina."

Junella gazed into her cup. "I might have to visit."

Toby enjoyed the smell but couldn't bring himself to do much more than tip the cup towards his mouth and pretend to sip. He still kept glancing back at that thing in the corner. Until finally it clicked. "...It's a globe!"

They all looked up from their tea. Toby had been so quiet they'd almost forgotten he was there.

"Clever to have figured that out," Aldridge said approvingly. "Rebecca, would you bring it closer?"

"Sure, pops." It came gliding across the floor towards the pit so everyone could get a better look.

Upon a wooden base was mounted a large rectangular mirror. Glued to the reflective surface was what looked like a giant's fungus-covered toenail. It curved out and back towards the mirror in an arch. The mirror let everyone see both sides of the sculpting. The outward face was lumpy and multicolored, the underside was craggy and coal-black. At the top was a spray of pebbles, then a central spike that extended just beyond the glass.

"We're right there at the tip, aren't we? That's why we merged?" Toby asked.

"Two for two!" Aldridge complimented. "I admit, even I don't know where the bizarre reflective property comes from, but you are sitting in the only spot in all of Phobiopolis that's immune. Right now, the people in this room are the only people in this room, and that's unique for all the world."

Junella's mind boggled. "Hot Jesus! I thought it was just something weird about your front lawn!"

He leaned forward, grinning at getting to explain it. "Not so; it's the whole kit and kaboodle. Every single place in Phobiopolis you've ever been to has an exact duplicate on the other side of the world. While you were trekking up here, your mirror images were taking the very same journey. Saying the same words, eating the same food, breathing the same breaths. There is not a single thing that happens on one side that is not replicated, down to the atom, on the other. And why not? Cause and effect apply the same everywhere in the universe. If the real you bumps an object off a shelf, and your image, mirroring you, does the same, then both items will fall."

Zinc looked pained. "This is setting my brain on fire."

Aldridge giggled, slightly crazily. "The knowledge does have that effect on most people. Even worse? Ponder this: If someone first arrives in Phobiopolis at the exact bottom, as most people do, then there is an equal chance they will run to the left or to the right. Depending on which way they run, they are either going to wind up in the real Phobiopolis, or its reflection. The people they meet may be real or reflections. There is no way of knowing which. Just as you and yours had no idea which was which when you met one another. And since there is absolutely no way to distinguish between the two, the question arises, does it even matter?"

Zinc screamed.

Aldridge tittered madly.

"He'll spill his tea, darling," Rebecca cautioned.

Aldridge could not resist his enjoyment at the looks of dismay on all his guests' faces. "It drives some people insane. That's one reason I chose to live here. Not only does it cut down on door-to-door salesman, but I can be secure in the knowledge that I'm the only me."

"And the same goes for all of you now," Rebecca said soothingly to the others. "You all merged before you came in, so you don't have to worry about it anymore. And when you leave, the reflections will go in one direction, all of you in another. So that works out too."

Aldridge sipped his tea. "Ah, but which direction will you go? Back the way you came, or down the other side? Did you come from the real world, or from an illusion?"

"Honey, you're just being sadistic now."

"I can't help it! Confusion is fun!" He took another sip. "Plus, it's good for the brain. Rattles it around to keep the dust from settling on it."

"You've certainly given me plenty of sleepless nights for the next few weeks," Junella warbled.

"You're welcome," he replied mischievously.

The travelers all puzzled over this revelation for a while. They thought about people they knew and wondered whether they'd been interacting with a real furson or their puppet. It was the sort of thing that their emotions demanded an answer to, but their reason couldn't help concluding that it really was irrelevant. If two things are exactly identical, why does it matter which one is 'real'? Or are they both, somehow?

Rebecca brought out some tiny cakes on napkins and began passing them around, hoping the sugar would settle the travelers' nerves.

"Would it help if I told you how all this came to be?" Aldridge asked. "I know you must have urgent reasons for being here, but I've got a bit of professor's blood in me. It's been ages since I've gotten to explain anything to anyone else!" He wiggled on the couch like a boy about to open Christmas presents.

"Believe him," Rebecca said. "One of the perks of being a room is that, when he slips into 'Ohhh lookit this dear!' mode about something he's already told me for the millionth time, I can totally tune out and he won't notice a thing. Just keeps on rhapsodizing."

Piffle chortled.

"Well," Aldridge said, cheeks slightly pink. "That's not inaccurate. Do any of YOU mind though?"

"My tank's full, teach," Zinc said. The revelation about the shape of the world was enough for one day.

"Well I'm interested," Piffle said. The others nodded.

"Fantastic." Aldridge leaned back and settled comfortably. He cleared his throat, letting the old stage patter rhythms return to him. He pointed to the globe. "What you are looking at is a representation of a cosmic accident. More years ago than your minds can handle, God created the heavens and the Earth."

Junella choked on her cake. Up until that moment she'd been a passive atheist. Always assuming that the universe was a random swirl of stars and dust, with Phobiopolis as its only afterlife.

Aldridge sipped his tea. "He created angels to love him. And when those angels started displaying free will and disagreement, he created Hell for their punishment." A frustrated sigh. "He was never very patient. Always the type to barge ahead in stubbornness when someone pointed out he'd been wrong. So he found a creature floating in space. A single being comprised of the souls of untold worlds, all bound together into a semi-corporeal whole. It had the ability to become whatever it dreamed, and could grant this ability to any of its passenger souls. God reached out to this celestial being, and killed it."

Piffle's antennae shot up in horror.

"He emptied it out like a jack-o-lantern," Aldridge continued, "and he used its corpse to build the realm we know as Hell. He has sent innumerable souls, mortals and angels both, to this haunted house world. And in its sloppy, enraged construction, he left behind chunks of waste material."

Toby saw where this was headed.

Aldridge gazed out the window to the stars. "Even in death, the celestial being's tissue reflexively sought new souls to join it. For you see, it gained nutrition from contact, and conversation, and learning. And so, the largest cast-off chunklet found itself reflexively drawn to the nearest source of soul energy. It journeyed blind across the cosmos to meet this new friend. Unfortunately, this source was the dreaming fiend we call The Cruelest One."

Toby felt ice blocks collide in his guts. His eyes widened. His breath halted. He'd never expected Aldridge to just come right out and mention the Allfilth directly. Toby's lips moved before he could stop himself. "I've seen him."

Aldridge's head whipped around towards the mouse. "You can't have."

"No, really!" Toby did not dare say its true name, but he drew in the air with his fingertip: the round eyes and slitted mouth.

Junella looked at Toby, jaw in her lap. "That was why-!? Why didn't you tell us!?"

The mouse felt drenched in nervous sweat as he scrambled to rebuild his mask. "I... I didn't think it was important, really. I saw a big ugly head as I was leaving Dysphoria. And sure, it was scary. But I assumed you were right when you said it was just another trick it was playing on me."

She scowled. She didn't believe a word of his carefully-chosen response. But she did believe the raw horror that had been in his voice a second ago. And she got the sense Toby had gotten a lot closer than just seeing it. 'This explains so much. Goddammit Toby, why didn't you trust us to help you?'

Aldridge was pale. He completely missed the reactions of the others, his attention focused wholly on Toby. "How in the name of God did you ever get away?" he breathed.

A shrug. "I don't know. My friends saved me somehow."

"Junella juiced his chest with a live wire until he snapped out of it," Zinc said.

Aldridge looked like he could not believe what he was hearing. He shook his head. "All I can say, young mouse, is that I hope you never know just how grateful to your friends you should truly be."

Toby nodded. "I am." He looked to all of his companions. "Thank you," he felt compelled to say.

The others didn't know what to feel. The revelation of The Cruelest One was comparatively easier to deal with, since it wasn't a stretch to guess that Phobiopolis might be watched over by some megalithic horror in the darkness. But overriding that was their worry for Toby, and a feeling of betrayal that he'd kept his encounter to himself. Did he not think they could help, or understand?

Piffle, George, Zinc, and Junella shared a flurry of glances between them, vowing without words to confront Toby about this as soon as tea was over.

The mouse sat with his lips shut tight, hoping his lie had worked. He intertwined his fingers in his lap.

Aldridge shook his head in astonishment and tried to remember where he'd been in his story. He babbled until he got back to it, like an unsteady takeoff. "As I was saying... What was I saying? Phobiopolis. Him. Right. The Cruelest One, also known as the Allfilth."

Toby's whole body clenched at hearing that word spoken aloud.

"By a monstrous accident of fate, it was its will that shaped the beginnings of this realm. A flying blood clot turned into an afterlife. Even though the celestial being lived to provide comfort and happiness to all its passengers, the Cruelest One's tainted soul corrupted it. That conflict between their natures is likely why the whole of this realm is not like Dysphoria. There exists both suffering and solace here. I've held out hope that maybe the spirit in our soil is not dead, but only hibernating."

He pointed to the globe again. "It used to be omega-shaped. Can you see it? The way the land curves around in a broken ring? Technically it's upside down, but everyone perceives Anasarca as being the highest point in the land, so there you go. Anyway, long ago, caused possibly by the abrupt ending of its journey, the bottom lines of the omega broke off and fused together. That simultaneously created the mountain you are sitting on, and the debris field surrounding it. But the rest was a boundless psycho-reactive void. Even in dormancy, it pulled souls toward it like a magnet. Why this place seems to attract sleeping souls more than dead ones, I haven't a clue. Possibly due to the dreams of The Cruelest One? I can guess right now that a majority of you here, possibly all except George, went to sleep one night and found yourselves here. Or were rendered unconscious by accident or anesthesia."

Even without replying, everyone confirmed this through their pensive expressions. Some had no concrete memory of it happening, but felt sure nonetheless.

Toby realized now, he couldn't remember if he'd ever actually asked his friends how they'd come here. Maybe because he wasn't yet sure of how he had. He knew he didn't want to talk about it. Although he couldn't shake the tense, sick, familiar feeling that maybe he already knew. Maybe, even after all his introspection in Dysania, there was something still left undiscovered.

Aldridge continued. "This world works on principles which we perceive to make sense, and they make sense only because we perceive that they will. Any baseline physics are simply what the majority of souls expect to happen, based on experiences from Earth. The entire population is in a constant state of dumbfounding. Otherwise, Phobiopolis would be in complete chaos. There is only any stability here because the first inhabitants assumed it must exist somewhere, so they set out and found it."

The idea went against everything Junella thought she knew. "So are you telling me that... everything's like the sunny sky up on Bigwheel 52? Ectopia Cordis is on stable ground not because the ground's stable, but because enough people all thought, 'Yeah, I guess it is'?"

"That's about the gist of it," Rebecca answered.

Junella massaged her temples. The idea seemed too big to fit in her brain. "I'd heard the theory before, but it was just people spitballin'. Kicking the possibility around. I never believed it because... it can't be true. It turns cause and effect backwards, doesn't it?"

"Not really," Rebecca said. "Think of it this way. Y'ever been in a situation where something important popped up and you HAD to do it, but you weren't sure if you could, so you pulled an all-nighter anyway and went into kind of a daze? Then in the morning, you can't even remember how in the frig you pulled it off, but there it is, done! Sometimes you can accomplish things precisely because you just DO them without knowing how. Especially here."

Junella immediately thought of Toby's paint can trick. "Does this mean," she reasoned, "that if someone could just get, I dunno, 'zen' enough, they could change anything?"

Aldridge smirked. "Not only could they, but you are sitting beside the all-time grandmaster."

Junella gaped.

"You're soooo humble, honeycakes," Rebecca playfully poked.

"Just being accurate," he defended. "But yes. I have amassed all sorts of tricks and techniques over the years to boost my unconscious power and control it consciously. It used to be there were many more 'sorcerers' like me. By now, either their talents have been lost to obscurity, or discovered again in random accidents. Or the tricks have become so commonplace that no one anymore stops to think about them."

Zinc nodded. "Right, right. Like I was tellin' 'em about how people didn't useta know how to mindf- er, dumbfound. And now they can. Because they already know other people can."

"Absolutely correct," Aldridge said.

The canine was glad he was keeping up with all this.

Aldridge leaned over, resting his face in his paws and letting out a nostalgic sigh. "I miss those days, and yet I don't. There were only ever a handful of us. The magicians, I mean. But for a time, we were this world's biggest celebrities. I commanded standing-room-only audiences. 'Aldridge The Impeccable.' Oh, it was grand. But it was taxing too. It required me to put on a persona of someone I wasn't. Someone with much more assuredness and optimism.

"The problem is, as it always is, power seeks to grow. We all wanted more of it. Some just because we were rivals. Greater abilities meant greater ticket sales. For me, I wanted more because I saw so damned many things in the world that needed fixing, and I was in a position to fix them." He closed his eyes, and his voice lowered. "Others, on the other hand... One in particular, who I will not name, wanted more power in order to punish the world."

Zinc had heard all the stories, and knew exactly who Aldridge was remembering. "She was why the war started, wasn't she?"

Aldridge looked uncomfortable with that phrasing. "Was she? Or was I, for waiting too long to contain her?"

Rebecca comfortingly patted his shoulder with a pillow. They'd been over this many times.

"I tended to act only when I realized no one else could, or when no one else was stepping forward. So while this little contest of sorcery was escalating, I watched a certain furson gathering power and I kept telling myself that her seething spite would burn to the wick eventually. I talked with her so many times. In those days she made no bones about her amorality, but she was still approachable. She could speak so reasonably, so convincingly." Regret was plain in his voice. "I gave her the benefit of the doubt too many times. And then, it was too late."

He reached up to caress the pillow. "Rebecca was my Pearl Harbor, I suppose. When my rival saw that Becca made me happy, she changed her into her current form. A cruel joke. That was what finally convinced me her behavior was not just harmless pranks. Her venom would never run dry. She meant to strike at whatever caused the most pain, in anyone she deemed deserving."

Sensing the ache in her lover's voice, Rebecca asked, "You mind if I butt in to tell my part in this? How I found you?"

He looked intensely relieved, like she'd thrown him a lifeline. "Oh, yes. Please. It's a much better story."

They could practically feel her glow. "I first saw Aldy at one of his shows. Man, he was the greatest! He did stuff the other guys couldn't touch. Made it look so easy too. And... I fell in love. I knew it started out as just a schoolgirl crush. I mean, what would a big famous magician want with little old boring me? But I snuck myself backstage to meet him this one time. Then again. And after a while, he started expecting me."

Down from one of the shelves came a framed photograph of a young and happy pair. As a coyote, Rebecca had looked plain yet radiant. Her smile and sheer will shone from the photo. And Aldridge...

Toby was incredibly surprised to see that the wizard's earlier self had been a mouse. Just like him.

Rebecca sat the portrait on the tea tray. "No one called it a war until it had already been one for a good long time. The magicians were consolidating power. Entertainers into politicians. And a lot of people started getting worried about that. The main opposition was Luxy Bleeder, that crazy bastard." She spoke his name with begrudging respect. "He wasn't the first to say it was a bad thing for certain folks to slowly build themselves into Gods, but he said it loud, and he said it well. By then, some wizards and witches were actually drawing borders. It was getting uglier. Aldy couldn't stand it. He built his castle up here just to get away from the noise. He started doing fewer shows and spending more and more time away from everyone else."

A cup of tea poured itself, and then drank itself. "After his last show, he told me he couldn't see me anymore. He said he loved me, but the world was nothing but a big migraine and I was safer without him. He was the only one who could fly over Dysphoria where it couldn't reach up and catch him. It became his barrier against everyone else."

Aldridge said softly, "I still can't believe I was stupid enough to think you wouldn't follow."

Junella put two and two together. "You made it through Dysphoria too?" she asked in amazement.

They couldn't see her proud smile, but felt it anyway. "Sure did!"

"All by yourself!?"

"Well, I had some help. My idea was, I spent all my savings and had some friends build me this harpoon setup. I stood on the edge and fired it at the mountain for a guideline. Then it was just hand-over-hand the whole way."

Junella's jaw dropped, outraged that such a simple solution was possible. "You're shitting me!! After all the crazy crap we hadda do to ourselves to get through, and you just walked across!?"

Rebecca laughed in a melancholy way. "You make it sound so simple. Lemme put it this way. You got through that hellhole yesterday, right? And you're speaking complete sentences to me now? That's the difference."

Junella quieted.

"I only made it because I was so full of myself and I had no idea what I was getting into," Rebecca admitted. "Love makes people stubborn. I just kept pulling on that rope thinking, 'It has to end sometime'. Yet it didn't. Even when Aldy realized what was happening and helped pull me out, my mind was still trapped in there for a long, long time. I was crippled in every way someone can be. Took almost a year for Brian to nurse me back to health. I nearly lost everything I was."

The skunk looked around at her companions. They had all taken a hit from Dysphoria's relentless punches, and some fared worse than others. She looked at Doll, still hibernating within herself, and at Toby, cut down to a fraction of what he'd been before. Yet she also looked at George's colored lights, Zinc quietly holding hands with Piffle, and her own cutlass. Their outcome could have been so much worse.

"She is why I made the escalator," Aldridge added. "Sometimes, when a loved one is in pain, you wind up with a powerful store of nervous energy that you feel must be channeled into something that makes a difference. Even if it's relatively minor. I reasoned, anyone else brave enough to make it across the reach deserved an easy path the rest of the way."

'Thought so,' Junella said to herself.

"Why didn't we do the harpoon-guideline thing?" Piffle asked Zinc. "I mean, plus all our other ideas."

"Too damn dangerous! No guarantee the spike'd hit the mountain instead of one of the asteroids," he replied.

The hamsterfly nodded, then looked at the tea tray. "You must've gotten super lucky, Rebecca."

A soft chuckle. "Brian's told me that lotsa times."

"And in a way, that's where the story ends," Aldridge added. "I joined the war. It came down to myself and my rival. Terrible things happened. I won, and I..." He cleared his throat. "I dealt with her in a manner suitable."

That could indicate a great many things. Zinc's brain started imagining them.

"I didn't have the heart to end her permanently, and sometimes I wonder if that was the right decision. But during that awful period, a common way of disposing of one's enemies was to toss them in Dysphoria. To end this atrocity, and to safeguard myself and my love against my rival's possible return- or revenge by her thralls- I set out on my last great project. I had reached a point where I felt I had done all I could for Phobiopolis. The rest, people would have to muddle through on their own. But I could do one more thing. I could starve that contemptible abyss of future prey. And so I built the great white wall."

Zinc jumped off the couch. "YOU BUILT THE MAZE!?"

No change in expression. "I did."

The canine barely restrained himself from throwing his teacup in Aldridge's face. "WHY!? For fuck's sakes, have you SEEN the people trapped in there!? I sure as hell had to!!"

Aldridge's mouth became a stone slit. "Can you tell me, in all honesty, that it is worse for them in there than it would be in Dysphoria?"

Zinc's planned reply caught in his throat. His mouth froze mid-roar. He tried to think of a counterargument to that and couldn't. Even with the blurred goggles, he had seen those wretched things in Phlegmasia that had used to be people, crawling around in blind delirium. And yet... Given the choice between spending the rest of eternity in either place, he knew what he'd choose without hesitation.

Piffle saw the snarl on Zinc's lips change from anger to frustration. She tugged on his wrench, easing him back down to his seat. She asked Aldridge, "Couldn't you have, I dunno, maybe tried something a little less..." She couldn't think of a word that didn't sound rude.

"I considered many ideas," Aldridge said without emotion. "I decided I cared more about effectiveness than compassion. Anything was better than the valley of The Cruelest One. I thought to myself, if I had to be trapped in only one emotion for a very long time, what would be the most merciful? The enjoyment of a good story seemed a fair choice. You can see my books. This isn't even all of them. I made an entrance to tempt the arrogant to try; to think they had a chance. I designed the maze to always steer its captives back towards this entrance, away from Dysphoria. It holds no one forever. But it is designed such that, once you are free, you will not want to return."

It was all very reasonable, but also very cold. The travelers felt their image of Aldridge shift with this new information.

The wizard finished his tea. "I haven't the foggiest how you six got here, but I'm sure you'll tell me soon. I'm sure you have a grand tale of all your travels. But I'm glad I got this opportunity to let you see the real me. To let you know that I try to be kind, but I can also be ruthlessly practical when necessary. I don't want you to think of me as your magic fairy godfather that can make all your wishes come true. My power has limits. And if my guesses are correct, I'm going to be disappointing at least one of you when you start making requests."

"Mind if I ask one more question before we get to that part?" Junella asked in a deceptively disinterested tone.

"Certainly." He set his saucer down. "If there's one thing I try to be, to make up for all my other failings, it's honest."

She leaned back against the sofa and looked him in the eye. "A while ago, you spoke about God like you knew him personally. You're not just the oldest resident here, are you?"

He froze. Oh this one was very clever. "What exactly are you implying?"

Junella's tone was perfectly calm as she called out the most powerful being in the world. "I'm not implyin' shit, mister. You're this place's guardian angel, ain'cha? You're here to keep us all in line."

The others gawked.

Aldridge actually laughed. "Yes, and no. Correct assumption but incorrect conclusion. Still, that's definitely worth my respect. Bravo." He clapped for Junella.

She was not charmed.

Rebecca chuckled too, in a 'jig's up' kind of way. "May as well show 'em, honey."

He was startled. "But only you've seen...!"

"What can it hurt?" she replied.

Aldridge sat up straight, considering it. "Fair point." With that, he stood and let his bathrobe fall to the floor. Underneath he was wearing blue satin boxer shorts. Piffle was just about to giggle, but then his wings came out.

The room filled with light.

Aldridge bowed his head and solemnly extended them to their full span. The tips on either side scraped the walls. The glow emanating from the shining white feathers outshone every lamp in the room. Immaculate. Aldridge's face was taut. Closed off. Almost ashamed.

His guests were literally unable to do anything else but stare dumbstruck in awe.

Then he folded away his wings and sat back down. He shuffled his robe back on and reached for a tiny cake.

The room was dead quiet.

"You're a real angel!!" Piffle finally sputtered.

He shrugged, as if that wasn't so out of the ordinary. "Yes."

Junella was goosebumpy as anyone else, but hadn't forgotten her question. "But you say you're not the world's warden?"

He shook his head and snorted at the absurdity. "If you're asking if I was sent here with a purpose, absolutely no. God tossed me out like all the rest of His trash. By purest accident, His aim must have been off and I shot past Hell and landed here. I found a violent and ugly pioneer world where nothing stayed the same when you turned your back. At first I was too anguished to do anything about it. But when other souls began to arrive, I had to."

He smiled bittersweetly. "I already told you, I never wanted this job."

No one knew what to say then. They just stared at him, remembering the sight of those wings. How they blazed, like sunfire.

Aldridge looked directly at Toby. "Unless I'm mistaken, you came to ask if I could send you home."

The small mouse's throat turned to sand. The question had come before he'd had time to prepare his lies. He opened his mouth but nothing would come out. Finally, all he could do was nod. It was true that home had been his original goal, after all.

"I can't," Aldridge said flatly.

Toby showed no reaction. Because of course he wasn't surprised.

Zinc however, bared his fangs and snarled. "WHY YOU-!!!"

The wizard held up a finger, refusing the outburst before it could start. "When you started on this jaunt, did you know for a fact that I could send people back to Earth? Hm? Or did you hear stories and assume them true?"

Zinc deflated.

Aldridge opened his hands, palms out, to all of them. "You think you're the first to make it here?"

Junella was heartbroken. Yes, she'd told Toby to be cautious, that there were no guarantees. But her own hope had never wavered. Of course Aldridge could. Because... Because he was Aldridge. Aldridge could do anything. "But..."

"The legends had to have come from somewhere, didn't they?" he asked somberly, to no one in particular. "Some, when they heard the choice I actually have to offer, decided they didn't really want to leave here all that badly after all. So I flew them back across the divide. They returned to their villages and either told the truth, which no one wanted to hear, or spun fantastic tales of the wizard Aldridge's great power. Which do you think survived? Which was passed on?"

Junella felt like he'd carved a hole right through her. She looked over to Toby and mistook his stone face for crushing numbness. She was almost there herself. If there was any silver lining, at least he'd confirmed that he took people home. Junella had been dreading the possibility of having to backtrack through Dysphoria.

Toby was very still and very quiet. He didn't dare let it show, but he was feeling one emotion quite strongly. Relief. With those simple words from Aldridge, 'I can't', Toby's problems had been solved. He didn't have to make any excuses or choices. He'd never have to say a word to any of his friends to justify turning back. Aldridge had given him freedom. When later they went home with an 'oh well' and a 'so long', Toby was free to disappear at the first chance he got, taking his head full of toxic truths far, far away from the others. Sparing them from the slow poison inside him. It was the best thing for everyone, really.

He almost felt happy.

Piffle reached past Zinc to put a comforting paw on her mouse friend's shoulder.

Toby reflexively flinched from it, then accepted it to preserve the act.

She was glad he let her paw stay, but something in his eyes made her shudder. A glint of something so completely un-Toby-like, she must have hallucinated it.

Junella was trying to untangle these last remaining knots. "So, the people who never got home... were they just the ones who got lost in the maze and Dysphoria?"

"Not all," Aldridge said very quietly, in a voice on the edge of tears.

She felt like maybe she shouldn't ask. Like maybe she didn't want to know the answer. "...Where?"

Aldridge's head had gradually sunk lower and lower towards his folded hands. At Junella's question, he straightened up and put on a face of calm practicality. He spoke in a clipped tone without any trace of feeling. "It is another of my self-imposed duties in this world, to look after a certain object. One, I believe, that followed me here from Heaven. When I first saw what it could do, I knew I had to lock it away forever. But some have asked about it. And I could not in good conscience refuse this request, even knowing the consequences."

The skunk could hardly breathe the words. "You're talking about the Oblivion Door."

Aldridge was slightly stunned that word of it had survived. "I am. Its proper name is the Neculaunis. I touched it once and knew."

Piffle ran her hand nervously along her carapace's ridges. "It's bad, isn't it?"

Junella nodded slowly. "You listen long enough, you hear all kinds of stories. This was something I heard bad people threaten other bad people with. And only when they were so pissfire-angry they didn't know what they were sayin' anymore." She paused, some angel on her shoulder shouting a warning she didn’t understand. "S'posedly, it's a door that if you walk through it... you stop being there. You just... stop. Alltogether."

Piffle put her paws over her mouth.

Zinc looked to Aldridge for confirmation or denial.

"For once, the legends are entirely accurate," he replied.

"But that's horrible!!" Piffle protested. "Who would make something like that!? How could you ever let anyone use it!?"

Aldridge's face was cold marble as he looked to her apologetically. "Because it is not my right to decide life and death. Who am I? To tell someone, 'Your suffering must continue because I can't bear the thought of your choice'!?" His volume began to slowly rise. "To some poor souls, the thought of a final, permanent escape from this unceasing nightmare is the greatest solace I can give them!!"

"Calm down, love," Rebecca said gently.

There was a murmur from the opposite end of the sofa.

They all looked at Toby, not sure if he'd spoken or coughed.

"Did you say something, Sire Toby?" George piped up. He had remained quiet for some time now, simply because the stories were engrossing and he had nothing to add to them.

Toby's eyes were glassy and wide. His posture was rigid, face slack. But the others could practically see the thoughts whizzing around in his head like carnival fireworks. "I asked," he repeated quite clearly, "if we could see it."

Disbelieving stares.

"Please," he added.

***

Oh, there was a big kerfuffle as they all chimed in to talk him out of it. But Toby stuck to his guns. He didn't even hear their words. He just held up his hands and kept insisting: "I only want to see it. I only want to see it."

Piffle was torrenting tears again. Zinc shot fury at Toby from his incinerating gaze. Junella was so bitterly disappointed she looked like she wanted to die. And George's voice was quavering with a depth of emotion the others had rarely heard from him.

Still, Toby insisted.

He wasn't even sure why. He had no plan in mind. Yet an electric wire inside him had surged at Aldridge's mention of the artifact. Like this was the missing piece of a puzzle he'd been working on blindly all this time.

Of course, he wasn't going to walk through.

Yes, he acknowledged that all his internal doubts were whooping in celebration. 'Here's your chance, crybaby! Here's your chance to end it all and do something useful for once!' But he knew he wasn't going to listen to those voices. If nothing else, just to deprive them the satisfaction.

Maybe it was that he felt he had to confront this 'oblivion door' face to face. He had never truly decided whether his heart wanted to leave or stay. This was a third option. To leave everything, permanently. All the pain, but also all the joy and memory and future chances. He was sure he didn't want that.

But still... he had to see it. Just once.

Aldridge became very serious and asked him several times if he was certain. The wizard's mesmerizing eyes drilled deep.

Toby barely heard the words. He was sitting up straight with his hands on his knees, ready to go the second the word was given. "One hundred percent, sir," he replied.

Aldridge closed his eyes and sighed. The mouse was one of the worst liars he'd ever seen. Toby's inner thoughts were so transparently manifest, he might as well have been writing them out on a chalkboard. And Aldridge knew his expression. He recognized the insistent denial. He'd seen it all before. Nevertheless, it was his duty.

He stood and said, "If you must, then Rebecca will show the way. I'll be there waiting." And he vanished.

Toby stood up too. His skinny body didn't feel so weak anymore. In fact, he almost felt like he was floating.

There was an acid edge to her tone when Rebecca spoke. "If you're planning what I think you are, it'll sink him like a stone! I'll be consoling him for months! And have you even thought about what it'll do to your friends!?"

Toby did not flinch. He simply repeated, calmly, "I'm not planning anything. I only want to look."

There was a harsh hiss of contempt, then the tea cart raced off across the floor. Fast and clattering, like the furson pushing it was steaming with anger.

Toby watched the cart and remembered its path. He started after it.

The others were all staring at him in total shock. Zinc reached out to tug the mouse's arm. "Hey, chief, c'mon. Be serious here. You're jokin' with us, right? The mouse I know would crap his pants runnin' away from a thing like that." As the words left his mouth, Zinc realized that in his desperation, he'd said the absolute worst words possible.

Toby turned to him and said stiffly, "Yeah? Well, I've grown up some. Chief."

Piffle was crying now. She stood up and spread her arms like a crossing guard, blocking Toby's path. Her mouth was set in a firm line.

Toby hated to make her feel this way, but if she wouldn't take him at his word then he wasn't going to waste time convincing her. He turned and walked around her, marching up and over the back of the couch.

Junella had not moved an atom. She was still sitting in her same position, arm draped over the back of the sofa. Eyes narrowed. Looking exhausted in every way a furson could be. She remarked flatly, "Gee, mouse, I never thought you'd be this much of a coward."

Toby's blank expression broke and he whirled around in her face, scarlet with anger. "If none of you are going to do anything but insult me and try to hold me back then you can all just go to Hell!!"

Junella remained motionless. But the bitter scowl on her lips deepened.

Toby turned to walk away, but a wrench knocked him to the floor.

He picked himself up, seeing stars and feeling an orange-sized welt emerge on his cheek. "This is how you treat your friends?" he hissed.

Zinc stood over him, his face a concrete slab. "When they're actin' like assholes, yeah."

Piffle jumped up and clutched tight to Zinc, looking back and forth between him and Toby. "Stop it! Stop it right now!"

Neither heard her.

Toby grabbed the edge of the couch and pulled himself to his feet. His eyes met Zinc's. He tried to shove all his willpower into his gaze like a bulldozer. "I'll do what I decide to do. If you're really my friend you'll respect that. If not, then hit me again when my back is turned. Like I care." And he made good on his word, swiveling away from Zinc towards the hallway. He steeled himself for a killing blow.

Instead, Zinc stood silently and stared through the back of Toby's vest, knowing he couldn't solve this with brute force.

Toby followed the tracks the tea cart had left on the carpet. The rest of the house displayed the same comfortable aesthetic as the living room. Everything neatly in its place. Not a speck of dust to be seen. Toby passed a wall full of portraits. He didn't bother looking at them. Down the hall he could see half a dozen closed doors and a single one open. He headed straight for it.

Hoofbeats on the carpet behind him. "Are you going to try to convince me out of it next?" he spat.

There was clear hurt in the quiet reply, but also steadfast loyalty. "Sire Toby, until it is your choice to let me go, I will be at your side wherever you are and whatever you decide."

Toby stopped. He turned around. George was standing a few feet behind him in the hallway, looking like a faithful dog who'd attend his master anywhere. Toby felt some of his anger subside. "Thank you, George," he said softly. Toby turned back and kept walking towards the open door. But he listened, and was glad to hear those big, clunking hooves follow.

Piffle, Zinc, and Junella were a still life for a moment. Then Zinc growled, resisted the urge to smash something expensive, and followed after Toby. Junella swung herself up and away from the couch, following her partner.

Piffle fretted for a few moments more. She looked down at Doll in the crook of her arm. Looked up to the open door Toby had vanished through. Then, trembling, she turned and laid Doll down upon the cushions. "You might not want to see this," she said quickly, then gave her silent friend's forehead a kiss and scampered off after the others.

***

The door at the end of the hall was a couple of inches ajar. Toby could only see light from inside.

He definitely didn't want to be here anymore, so he crossed the room to his closet, towards that shiny brass knob. He turned it.

The Neculaunis room was like nothing else in the house. It was unthinkably big, impossibly big. Toby should have seen this barn-sized bulge from outside. Or maybe the room actually was normal sized. Maybe it only appeared so large because it was stretching itself away in fear from the silver masterpiece at its center.

An unshielded bulb dangled from the ceiling, spilling a yellow glare across the room. No wallpaper, no carpet. Just unvarnished boards and a single window. And one door.

It seemed more real than anything else in the room. Or the world. It seemed more there. It seemed to exist in a dimension beyond, and this was merely the representation that souls like him were allowed to see.

No ornamentation. Flat. Just silvery-white metal, or metallic paint over wood. Smooth enough to reflect. Toby could see a distorted, wrung-out mouse with wide eyes walking slowly towards himself. The angles of the frame were uncannily precise. The knob was as perfectly round as a crystal ball. No keyhole. The Neculaunis stood waiting, suspended above the hardwood on nothing but its own aura. As Toby came closer, it looked down at him with aloof grandeur. It did not have to care whether or not he stepped through. It would remain in place eternally, ready to open, or not, at anyone's choice. Even Aldridge's.

The wizard's body in this room was his original one, a sandy-furred mouse. Again in blue. He stood with his arms folded in the small of his back, leaning against the wall to Toby's left.

"There it is," he said with slight reproach. "You've seen it now."

But Toby shook his head. This was only the outer vessel. This was the candy box, not its contents. He had to lift the lid.

Toby heard the others enter the room and stand near Aldridge. They did not come any closer, and the mouse was glad for that. Maybe they feared the Neculaunis more than he did, or maybe they were finally acting like friends and listening to what he'd told them. There was nothing wrong with wanting a look.

The Neculaunis held his gaze as if soft silver hands had extended to cup his face. Its presence was overwhelming. Toby could hardly look away. He felt drawn into its pristine silver surface, wanting to dive in and make ripples like a summer pool.

Maybe this was what had been calling him all this time. Across the whole vast distance of Phobiopolis. What if it had been whispering to him inaudibly through all his days and nights here? What if it was lonely?

With an extreme effort, Toby turned his head away slightly, towards Aldridge. He had a sensible question. Practical considerations came first, after all. "Is it safe to open? Like, will I be sucked inside as soon as I touch it?"

Aldridge was steeling himself for what he knew now was inevitable. He forced calmness onto his face and did nothing but watch and answer. "It has no hunger. It will not take you unless you walk through on your own, uncoerced, volition."

Toby nodded. There was wanting to face the unknown, and then there was taking unnecessary risks. Ha ha! He wanted to see it, but he didn't want his friends to all go spiraling into a black hole along with him.

He stepped towards the Neculaunis door and extended his hand. His every movement felt calm and confident. As if he'd practiced this moment over and over. What an odd moment of deja vu... He reached towards that shiny silver knob, knowing in his heart that this was the right decision.

Piffle gasped. She started to run towards Toby and beg him to stop.

Junella put an arm across her chest.

Piffle looked at her, shocked, unable to find the breath to ask, 'Why!?'

The skunk's face was utterly inanimate, but her eyes were red at the edges. She stroked her finger-needles gently across her grooves."The client decides where to go. Even when we may not like that."

Piffle's lip trembled. She wanted to smack Junella, but instead grabbed the skunk's scarf and crushed her tear-stained face into it. "I can't lose him too. I can't, I can't. I'll break."

A gentle wrench reached across her shoulders to tug her away.

George leaned in closer to his companions. "I understand everything you are feeling, Madam McPerricone. But I believe it best to trust in Sire Toby to be wise in this decision."

Piffle looked at George, then back to Toby. Her mouse friend stood at the door as if entranced. She didn't know if she could trust him. She didn't know if he was really the one in control, or if something else had its fingers in him.

Junella watched every move Toby made with silent, hawklike patience. She understood having faith in the people you cared about, but there was an unspoken line. If that mouse crossed it, she'd be across the room like lightning, chopping off his ankles to keep him from taking another step. Let Aldridge try to stop her. Fuck choices. She wasn't about to let Zinc, Piffle, and George go through that misery.

Aldridge watched as well. He saw things no one else in the room did, and kept his thoughts private.

Toby felt an energy shooting through his skin as he drew closer. Like fingers of wind brushing through his essence, making his fur stand on end. The silver doorknob was cool to the touch. Frictionless at first. But when Toby wrapped his hand around tightly and squeezed, it began to turn with almost no effort.

There was a gap in his memory then, because suddenly he was standing in front of the open door with no recall of having actually opened it. What was inside tore his eyelids open and vivisected his mind.

Nothing.

It was horrifying. It was haunting. It was tantalizing.

Toby felt madness enter him. This was a more creeping, sinister strain than Dysphoria, because there was no malice here. This was closer to the moment when he had floated alone in the presence of the infinitely indifferent cosmos. But even the universe, in all its breadth and majesty, was at least comprehensible. The Neculaunis' heart held nothing inside. There was neither light or darkness, shade or color. No smell. No sound. It was nothing. And Toby's brain screamed in atavistic rebellion at the idea. It could not abide such a concept. There had to be some way to describe the impossibility before his eyes. Yet every effort failed. This was as far beyond him as astrophysics was to an ant. This was an aspect of reality he was utterly incapable of conceiving. And yet he was seeing it.

He had to touch it. He had to. The thought transformed instantly to a solid truth in his mind: The moon is in the sky, water is wet, I must know this unknowable thing in front of me.

Toby tried to raise his hand, but his body fought him. It knew better. Toby's waking mind might have been ensnared, but his brainstem and nervous system recognized this as some hellaciously bad shit they wanted exactly no part of.

Aldridge had seen the look in the mouse's eyes more times than he could count. Though that was a lie. One hundred seventeen. How could he possibly forget even one? He clenched his teeth and locked his muscles down tight no matter how loud his conscience screamed. His every molecule called him coward, but he knew he had no right to interfere. His duty was to provide the choice and bear witness.

Toby forced his arm to raise, ignoring all warnings. Thoughts of Aldridge vanished, as did awareness of his friends. He was alone in this room. He was alone in the world. With the door.

His eyes burned. He took a hesitant step forward, somehow still aware that he did not want to trip and fall in. Oh no, he still had at least that little bit of automatic self-preservation. But his arm extended, and his fingers reached out. The nothingness was unspeakably repulsive, agonizingly beautiful. Just one touch, he promised, and then he'd be satisfied.

Junella and Zinc were both restraining Piffle with difficulty. Tears flowed like rain and she covered her mouth to keep in her screams.

In his peripheral vision, Toby saw the reflection of his own twig-thin arm reaching for the surface of that inexpressible other world.

Not a world though. Not a pool or a wall or a cloud. Nothing.

Nothing was impossible. Nothing was all anything ever really was.

The pad of a single digit of a single finger touched the barrier between existence and nonexistence.

To call it indescribable would have been inadequate. Toby could have filled books trying to recapture that sensation. If there was any one adjective that stuck out and held true, it was "overwhelming".

Toby was instantly addicted. He had never felt anything like this before, or dreamed such a feeling could exist. Chills ran up his bones and raised goosebumps on his skin. The touch froze him to the marrow. It sent nails through his flesh. It caressed him. It flayed him alive.

He was in control, he thought. A little more couldn't hurt?

A voice far away was screaming that he was trapped now. He could never pull away. Any motion forward would doom him irrevocably.

Toby didn't listen. He was sure he knew better.

He sunk his fingers deeper.

He gaped, beginning to drool, enraptured at how unbelievable the feeling was. How wonderful. His fingers just... ceased. They stopped being there. Like he'd always lived without them. Like they'd never been there at all. They felt no more pain. How thrilling! Numb to all hurt! He'd never have to worry again about pinching m in a drawer, or banging them with a hammer, or getting stung by an insect He would feel nothing from them ever again. Nothing was fine. Nothing was just fine, wasn't it? Toby lifted his hand away to see better. His hand now ended in four little stubs. They wiggled like pink tater tots. He laughed. Saliva spilled from the corners of his mouth.

'Wait. This is not normal.'

It was a tiny squeak, but he'd heard it. And it had come from inside. He continued to stare at his nubby hand. He felt a sudden twinge of confusion. It had felt so good, why wouldn't he continue? There was no reason not to, right? He watched the four little piggies dance. No cut, no blood, no skin, no scar. Just... gone. Good. Gone was good. Gone was...

No.

Toby realized he was looking at something else without seeing it. Something else about his hand...

A line. On his palm.

How was he going to hold his hammer without any fingers?

That simple, practical objection made it all the way across the cloying layers of miasma the Neculaunis and the Allfilth had fogged across his brain. Toby felt himself snap back to awareness. He looked down at his feet and realized he was much closer to the open door than his senses had relayed. He hadn't just taken one step forward, his knees were practically scraping the border. He stumbled back and tried to grab the door handle. His fingerless hand slipped and he almost spiraled backwards. Though that would have been a hell of a lot better than the alternative.

He looked back at his freakish, malformed fingers, wriggling like the heads of caterpillars. He looked over to Aldridge, desperate to ask whether this was permanent. To ask if he'd just crippled his hand forever.

But Aldridge wasn't looking at him.

Aldridge was turned around to face the room's entrance. His attention drawn completely away from Toby and the Oblivion Door.

Toby turned. His friends were still staring at him, so they didn't see. But someone else was there. Someone else had joined them.

Standing by the doorway was a pinkish-beige baby doll with no face. She leaned on the frame, casually, just waiting for someone to notice she was there.

The other four followed Toby's dumbstruck gaze and turned around as well. Piffle's heart practically crashed straight through her carapace. She sucked in a huge breath to scream at the top of her lungs in joy.

But then Aldridge said two little words that changed everything.

"Hello, Scaphis."

The world and everything in it froze.

Doll wasn't leaning on the doorframe. She was infecting it. Melted plastic from her hand had crept like wet paint all up and down its surface. It crept towards the floor, then spread out in a small puddle. Liquid plastic. A little pool, growing. Her green glass eyes were gone. Her face was back to the roughly-cut gap it had been throughout their whole journey together.

Her arm was behind her back. Casually, she showed them all what she was holding.

Aldridge's wand.

The wizard was stiff as steel. His face was composed and nonchalant, but his eyes were shifting back and forth rapidly, thinking at a rocket's pace. "Did you really think you'd fooled me? You confused my wand, I'll have to give you points for that. And I don't know how in the world you changed your shape. Sheer tenacity? Congratulations are in order. But, don't you think I've perhaps spent a few sleepless nights worrying about the day you'd make it back here? Did you think I wouldn't be ready? Did you think you got in for any reason other than I let you?"

Scaphis began to swing the wand back and forth. Tick-tock. Like a metronome.

Aldridge did not move from his spot. His showman's smile did not falter. But his eyes began to water. "Come to finish me off? I always knew it'd be on your mind. I could never stop giving you the benefit of the doubt, could I? I just... I guess I just didn't want to believe you had involved other people this time. These nice people. You used them like stepping stones to get to me. You made them care about you. That's shameful. You're sick, Scaphis. You're in pain and you need help."

She looked directly at him and smoothly shoved the entire wand straight down her throat. Then she showed her hands empty. Tada. A magic trick.

Two tears made tracks down Aldridge's cheeks. There was a tremor in his voice. "We don't have to do this. Why do you think I told them about the wizard's war? I wanted one last time to try to reach you."

Scaphis began to walk towards him. In the space of seven steps, she grew from an infant into an adult. Blooming into womanhood right before their eyes. The plastic encasing her squeaked and crackled as it struggled to hold her emerging body. Soon it was stretched thin as latex.

"I never learn, do I?" Aldridge said sadly.

Her legs elongated. Her pudgy, comical torso became mature and confident curves. Her new velvet dress turned to ribbons from the inside out. Her hands burst through her gloves. Her artificial hair fell away, leaving a bald, smooth scalp. And the hole in her face changed too. The edges boiled and churned. Flanges, like rows of tiny fingers, emerged and wriggled in some strange unison. As if she was speaking through them.

Scaphis parted the four gawking travelers as easily as walking through water. She was focused on only one man in the room. Aldridge. Her keeper. The others were secondary. And, since none of them had paid any attention to the pool of plastic rolling across the floor towards them, they didn't resist when a single touch paralyzed them into statues. Now they could have a turn being dolls.

Aldridge stood his ground. He gazed into the black void he'd sat across from so many times and tried to reason with. He knew her power. He knew her Bakhtak training. Sleep paralysis. It was her specialty. "I assume you've already dealt with Rebecca. I thought she'd gotten quiet."

That bald, expressionless dome nodded slowly, lingering with satisfaction. She walked up close enough to place one hand on Aldridge's chin. With the other, she reached out for Toby.

He had watched it all happen. And his mind was clearer than it had been in days. He saw everything and did nothing about it. But Scaphis' magic hadn't gotten him. He was simply scared stiff. Though as soon as he saw her hand move towards him, he started to run.

Scaphis' arm lengthened like the swing of a whip and wrapped around the mouse's waist before he'd gotten two steps. He squirmed, hyperventilating, eyes bulging as she squeezed. But she lifted him up with effortless strength and dangled him towards the open Neculaunis.

Aldridge spoke very carefully. "I know you would. But please, don't."

The squiggles of flesh around Scaphis' void quivered with laughter.

She shoved Toby towards the nothingness with all her might.

He did not have time, nor air, to scream.

WHACK

Pain spread through him like a lightning strike, and when he had a second to think, he realized that pain was much, much better than what he'd expected.

Aldridge's brief expression of horrified panic changed to amusement. He actually laughed. "Ha! Forgot, did you, that no one can pass through except by their own will?"

She shook with rage. She planted her feet and they twined together into a single, plantlike stalk. She reared back like a cobra and rammed Toby into the open door again and again and again.

WHACK WHACK WHACK

Toby barely had time to get his arm up in front of his face to shield it. He felt every bone inside shatter, but not a hair of him passed through the door. He felt his humerus split through the skin. He felt his ulna and radius explode around his hammer. He felt his wrist dislocate. He felt blood splash out from his split forehead. But he didn't feel the nothingness take him.

Disgusted, Scaphis whipped her arm back and pitched Toby into a corner of the room like a sack of trash.

Aldridge spoke again, and this time it was in tones of genuine compassion. "You're ill, Scaphis, and you need care. Stop this. You can see it's not gotten you anywhere. You can see for yourself that no matter how much you burn for your revenge, your addiction to your anger will always keep satisfaction from you."

She turned towards him, her body bending like a tree in the wind. Her facefingers rattling with fury. She drew closer, reaching out both arms. She touched her fingernails to the top of his skull.

He kept his expression stoic, even knowing he was moments from destiny. "Don't mistake my tears, Scaphis," he said, and this time he sounded simply tired. "It's not fear. It's sadness. We're really going to go through this worn-out routine one more time, aren't we?"

She nodded.

He sighed. "If you insist."

Her plastic fingernails dug ruts into the flesh of his scalp.

"But keep one thing in mind, poor maddened child."

Against her better judgment, she hesitated.

"You'll never have my hatred. Only pity."

Her restraint broke. She could not stand another second of his sanctimony. She dug her fingers straight down through his face and pulled him entirely in half. She parted him like the red sea. Blood oceaned out onto the clean hardwood floor. Then she began to ravenously shovel chunks of him down into her throat.

No one else in the room could do anything but watch and listen to the sounds of sloppy eating, like pigs at a trough. Scaphis consumed huge, bloody handfuls of Aldridge until there was nothing left of him but a blue bathrobe and a massive spray of crimson all over the walls and floor.

Toby was crumpled in the corner. He'd landed on his shoulders and something had definitely snapped inside him. He couldn't move. But he could see everything she was doing. And now it wasn't fear preventing him from stopping it. Simple mechanical failure.

Scaphis turned towards her captive audience. Red rivers poured from her quivering mouth, trickling down the front of her shining plastic torso to the floor. She looked carefully into the eyes of the horse, the skunk, the hamsterfly, and the canine. They were afraid. Good.

She focused on George. From within the black hole of her face, words appeared. White, neatly-printed letters. The words arrived one by one like a slide show.

YOU'RE

OF

NO

USE

TO

ME

A glance sent the stallion sliding sideways across the room, separating him from the others. Two enormous hands formed out of the plastic-coated walls and slammed into him like a car crusher. The sound was like cracking a redwood in half. George was broken and squeezed, the bones fused into a ball. Then Scaphis hurled him through the room's only window hard enough to blow the whole wall outwards, sending George's remains skyrocketing hundreds of miles away.

ONE

DOWN

WHO'S

NEXT?

She swayed back and forth in front of the remaining three, savoring their heartbreak. She extended one icicle finger and played eenie-meenie-miney-moe. Their bulging eyes followed the fingertip. Nothing else could move. They could not even scream.

The finger landed on the skunk, but that was no good.

I

WANT

YOU

TO

SEE

FIRST

she told Junella. Then she reached past her and picked Zinc.

He was scared like never before. He tried his hardest to squirm free. He made himself remember all the will he'd put into taking down the mall. Why couldn't he do anything now!? His body was locked up in an invisible straitjacket. His eyes darted to his partner, and then to sweet Piffle, as he was dragged past them to face the horror Doll had become. The horror of her new form wasn't nearly as crushing as the realization that this was what she'd been all along. Waiting and hiding herself for this moment. He had ridden beside her while this thing lurked inside. He had laughed and joked with her.

From out of her void grew a long black tongue, capped by an emerald stinger. It moved like a separate creature. A sentient slug. Scaphis brought Zinc close, drinking up the panic in his eyes. She swirled her tongue around his face. Spiraling. Circling in. Until the tip touched the spot right between his eyes.

With a sickening crunch, it sunk in.

Piffle screamed so loud she thought her head would burst, but not a single sound came out.

Junella shoved aside all the pain and terror and loss, because all that shit was for later. Right now, there had to be a way out of this if she could only keep her cool and THINK.

When the green needle drilled into Zinc's face, his eyes froze too. Straight up at the ceiling. They began to lose their color. A green mist started trickling up from his nostrils and the corners of his mouth, filling in the empty gaps of his head. A seam appeared around his features.

Scaphis smiled pleasantly as she watched the process play out. It had been so long since she'd gotten to enjoy this.

All color drained from Zinc's face. The seam completed and became a deep-set groove. The canine's eyes, nose, lips, and teeth were now a single piece. A porcelain mask. More mist seeped from the edges. Scaphis jerked the needle out. She reached up and delicately lifted off Zinc's face like the lid of a cookie jar. There was a puff of dissipating green mist, then she held the canine's limp body up so the others could see. Zinc had a void where his face had been. Just like hers.

Piffle wished and wished and wished with all her heart to wake up from this bad dream.

Scaphis set the harmless toy down on his feet, then callously dropped the face. It shattered on the floor like ceramic.

She reached for Junella.

The skunk refused to believe what had just happened to her partner and deepest friend. It was bullshit. Once she got herself out of this cunt's clutches, Junella Fucking Brox was going to slice her up right. Keep her alive and torture her for a long, long time. For daring to think that ANYone could EVER do that to someone she loved.

Scaphis giggled at the pointless fury in her victim's eyes, then sunk the needle in again.

2ND

VERSE

SAME

AS

THE

FIRST

She watched the fight in those orange eyes die, transfixed by the syrup she was injecting. It hollowed the skunk out, eradicating everything. Making it all nice and clean and empty inside. Like a brand new trashcan. Junella's eyes turned chalky and so did her surrounding features. The seam appeared. The green mist rose. And then another mask was smashing to smithereens against the floorboards.

Piffle watched Scaphis set Junella's carved-out body down next to Zinc's. The two of them just stood there, lifeless. The poor hamsterfly's mind was a whirlwind. On no level could she deal with what was happening. The horror. The sadism. And above all, the betrayal. Pushing as hard as her heart could stand, her indomitable will managed to coax a single sentence from her lips. "But... I... love... you..."

Scaphis answered Piffle with the single cruelest word she could have possibly said.

LIAR

She drove the needle in hard, cracking Piffle's skull.

Her face, when it was finished, did not so much come off as crumble inward. Scaphis turned her over and shook the crumbs out onto the floor.

Toby was paralyzed. Not from Scaphis, not even from his injuries, but by sheer emotional fatigue. He had reached the limit of what he could take. He had come through miles of Phobiopolis, hordes of nightmare constructs. He'd survived the arachnopus, Doctor Dacryphilia, Rither, Gyre 2, the catskulls, the crashing planes, the soap, the maze, Dysphoria, Logdorbhok, the lure of the Neculaunis, even his own toxic memories. And all it had come to was this. Losing everything to a monster. A monster he had trusted and loved. A monster he had grieved for when he'd thought she died. That grief had compounded his depression. He had been within inches of committing suicide over her. Doll. Scaphis. This thing that had just destroyed the best friends he'd ever known.

Toby rolled over onto his legs, ignoring the pain. He flattened his left palm to the wall and frictioned himself up to stand.

Scaphis had known all along he was still conscious and uncontrolled. She had wanted him to see. To damn him for not cooperating and going through the door like she'd asked. He was so close anyway! Why had he resisted? Rotten cheater. So she'd let him watch his friends fall like dominoes, and did not interfere as he struggled to his feet. She wanted to dangle hope in front of his coral eyes and watch it turn to ash. He deserved no less.

Toby's whole body throbbed. He could feel the blood pulse up and down in his muscles. He could feel the bone splinters moving around in his arm. Blood ran down from his forehead and caked into his fur. He was awfully tired.

He turned to face Scaphis. The room was almost fully coated in her flesh by now. It oozed along the walls and floor. It dripped from the ceiling. He was painted into a corner, literally. Scaphis was everywhere. Like someone had tried to sculpt a nightmare out of Silly Putty.

That idea struck Toby so funny he hiccuped a laugh.

She didn't expect that. Unless the little pig had gone totally into shock.

Toby felt lightheaded, yet clear. He knew where he remembered her from now. "It was you," he said. It came out slurred, so he spat some blood out of his mouth. A pseudopod of Scaphis-carpet jumped out to lap it up.

A question mark appeared in her void.

"It was always you," Toby said. He had never been drunk before, so he didn't realize how close it felt to hypoxia. "You were the sorceress that made the deal with Lady Xenoiko. You messed Mr. Rippingbean's face all up. And you were the one who used to own Ectopia. That's why you didn't want to go inside. Was it 'cause you were afraid Luxy would spot you, or did you just not wanna see what he'd done with the place?"

Scaphis was honestly puzzled. The mouse seemed lucid. Everything he'd said was on the nose. But where was his fear? His heartbreak? What the hell was going on inside that bleeding skull?

Toby held his shattered arm at his side as he walked across the room towards her. He showed no fear. And not in the 'stiff upper lip' way that Aldridge had. He simply had none left. His needle was at E. She'd hollowed him out. Or rather, this world of rot and garbage had already done it, and she'd just scraped off the last few smears. "You lied to us the whole time. You faked dying. You made Piffle cry. All the times you pretended to be nice and helpful, it was all just acting."

He walked right up to her and shrugged. "I don't even give a shit, honestly."

Her arm flashed out, becoming a rope. It wound around him from neck to ankles. She pulled him closer till their faces were inches apart. He could smell the bile and meat on her breath that moments ago had been Aldridge.

Toby did not react. His eyelids were heavy. He was tired. Not sleepy, but weary.

Scaphis shook him violently. Apathy? That was all? No!! He didn't deserve that refuge! Not after everything he'd done to her! Not after all his broken promises, always with his own selfishness truly at heart. Just like all the others. ALL of them. Scabs. Dirt. Liars. She shook Toby until his eyes rolled back in his skull. Then she held him up good and close and pinned his eyelids open to make goddamn sure he got the message.

YOU

HAVE

NO

IDEA

HOW

MUCH

YOU'VE

HURT

ME

Toby read the words and felt nothing but a mild discomfort in his neck. "So? Are we even now?"

Scaphis slapped him. She punched his face until she felt his nose invert. She grabbed hold of an ear and tore. Her hand was stained red up to the elbow.

Still the mouse didn't react.

I

TOOK

YOUR

FRIENDS

DON'T

YOU

EVEN

CARE

she screamed.

Toby coughed. A few teeth fell on the floor. "I guess."

She squeezed his ribs and felt them snap one by one. Her black tongue lashed out. The green needle glinted in the room's yellow light and plunged towards Toby's face.

Toby did react then, but it was barely a conscious choice. He had felt it start to happen anyway as she crushed his guts to goo, then thought, 'Why not?'

He had felt her paralysis seeping into most of his body, leaving only his face so she could watch him react. But this was a feeling he was well acquainted with. She didn't know that. He'd woken up plenty of times from dreams of mindless terror, feeling like some invisible creature was sitting on his lungs. It was awful, sure, but it was just something that happened with nightmares. Fighting to move only made it worse. Toby had learned over the years that if he could relax enough to calm down, he could get up, turn on the light, and read until he felt better.

So he relaxed. Everything.

Scaphis felt a warmth growing in her hand where she held him. The odor of wet shit hit her nose.

There was no scream of disgust except in her mind. On pure reflex, she hurled the disgusting mess away, through the hole in the wall where the window had been. Toby went with it.

He felt cold night air rustling across his fur. His body was so broken he couldn't possibly move, and so he didn't. Drops of urine scattered behind him like a crop duster. The load in his pants sloshed. He was flying.

Toby felt drops of Scaphis' venom slithering around in his brain as he soared through the empty sky like a shit-covered bullet. The needle hadn't had time to do much, so only a little bit of mist got in. Not enough to carve away his face, but enough to go to work with a vengeance on his memories.

He didn't care. At all. Nothing mattered. It was all down the toilet anyway, so why bother? All this world ever did was take and take, ripping apart everything good. Fine then. Let Logdorbhok smash it all. What difference would it make?

He felt the mist prowling his mental corridors, corroding everything it touched. Toby could feel his memories dying one by one, like photographs burned in a fire.

He was flying. He didn't care. The stars were all around him.

He lost the first book he'd ever read. He lost his father. He lost the names of countless medicines. He lost Piffle.

Nothing mattered. He closed his eyes.

He had faced the Neculaunis. Oblivion didn't scare him. And not having to remember? Cherry on top.

He lost his mother. He lost George. He lost his name.

It felt nice.

The mist destroyed him piece by piece, unraveling the jigsaw puzzle of his life, and Toby just sailed past the nebulae and galaxies and didn't resist.

He was done.

It was over.

He could rest.

He had lost everything.

He couldn't...

have cared...

less.

~~~*~~~*~~~

END OF BOOK THREE

~~~*~~~*~~~

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