Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The Year of the Lich
May

Monster Castle's basement had surprisingly good acoustics. Simon began to incorporate a lot more bass into the rhythm he was playing, as much out of scientific curiosity as a desire to make interesting music.

Marceline stopped singing along with Gunter's keyboard and called "Drum solo!"

"Oh, oh, uh..." Simon fumbled with the drumsticks, and managed something pretty passable.

Marceline was so good. Sometimes Simon was proud of what he could do with the drums, but he wasn't nearly as good as Marceline and her singing. Of course, he was a bit younger than her. He wasn't sure by how much, but she was definitely older than she seemed. That was the thing with vampires. They stopped aging when they were bitten. Marceline was going to be in her late teens until the day she died.

He dropped down to a simpler snare rhythm, and said "Thanks for inviting us to jam with you, Marceline."

"No problem," replied Marceline. She strummed a few chords on her bass. "Sometimes it's just nice to zone out and play, you know?"

Simon had not been zoning out, but he didn't want to admit it. "Uh, yeah!" He tried some syncopation, tried to keep it going without concentrating, missed a beat, and winced. He wasn't ready for the zone-out level of musical accomplishment just yet.

Marceline began to sing again, but quickly stopped. "Uh-oh. While I was zoning out just now, I had... a vision."

"Wow!" said Simon and Gunter in unison.

A number of questions came to Simon about the kind of vision, which sense was most prominent, whether the Cosmic Owl was present, and whether she'd got a vision because she was a vampire, because of her demon blood, or from something else entirely. Before he could figure out how to ask them without being called a dork, Marceline said "Sorry guys. I gotta go check on something."

"Ooh!" said Gunter, turning his keyboard off and leaning over in interest. "What is it? Is it your new bass player? I told you you should have let her take her metamorphasis leave."

"Is it about... your vision?" said Simon. He wished he got visions more often. He only ever got them from outside influences. And then he usually had to bash the outside influences with nunchucks because they were evil. It sucked.

Maybe that was where Marceline had got the visions? From something evil he needed to bash with nunchucks?

Marceline hesitated, then said "Tell you what. How about you two come with me? You were probably just gonna follow me anyway."

"Yeah, we probably were," said Gunter, putting his instrument away in its case.

"Don't tell her that!" said Simon. He was right, though. He was getting pretty good at keeping out of sight. "We'd love to go with you to check on your vision, Marceline!"

"Okay, just..." Marceline floated over to one of the cardboard boxes lining the walls, and began tossing things out. "Ugh, where is it? Aha!" She pulled out a couple of circlets and tossed them to Simon and Gunter. "Put these on. They'll protect you from mind control."

Simon did so. "Cool!" What could they possibly be going to check on that required this much preparation? It sounded like an adventure in the making.

Gunter tilted his head. "Simon. Tell me the truth. Does this thing make me look girly?"

"Aren't you a girl?" said Simon. He could never tell.

Gunter shrugged.

 

The three of them took a submersible under the biggest tar lake in the Monster Kingdom. "Now, maybe you've heard of this guy," Marceline began.

"It's Peppermint Butler!" said Gunter immediately.

"Bonnibel's creepy manservant?" said Marceline. "No! It's--"

"Donny?" said Gunter. "Muscle Princess? Tree Trunks?"

"Gunter, why would Tree Trunks be hanging out in a tar lake in the Monster Kingdom?" said Marceline. "There aren't even any apples down here."

Gunter shrugged, and started to suggest something else.

Simon grabbed Gunter's beak and held it closed. "Gunter, quit messing around." He was getting really curious, and Gunter would keep talking all day if he got a chance.

"No, the guy we're checking on is way more dangerous and evil than Tree Trunks," said Marceline, curling her hands into claws for emphasis. "He had a lair out past Iceberg Lake, where he tried to suck up all the planet's life!" She hissed.

Simon gasped. He had heard of that guy. "The Lich! It's here?" He peered into the tar, but all he could see was blackness.

"The what?" said Gunter, inappropriately unconcerned.

"The Lich!" repeated Simon. He couldn't believe Gunter had never heard of it. It was kind of the greatest evil in Uuu. "Some say it always existed. Some say it was created as a byproduct of the Great Mushroom War. But everyone agrees on one thing. It is a killer! All it cares about is destroying all life in Uuu - in the world!" He checked that the circlet was still on his head. Now he understood why Marceline had given them to them. "It's like, mad dangerous!" he finished.

"What does he look like?" said Gunter, still with much less gravitas than the situation demanded. He pressed his flippers against the front window. "I bet he's just made of muscles, like, his entire body is one big pec, and with just one arm he could lift an entire battilion of--"

"Gunter, this is serious!" said Simon. He thought he could whispering now. He wasn't a coward. At least, he thought he wasn't. But his mind was the second-best weapon he had, and the Lich was not taking it away from him.

A horned skeleton with flesh still clinging to his bones appeared out of the murk, and Simon jerked back. He'd the Lich before, in books, but it didn't measure up to the real thing. It was so big. Despite being completely still, it seemed to stare right at him.

Marceline breathed a sigh of relief. "Good, he's still here," she said. "I was really worried for a second there. He's encased in the toughest, stickiest tar in the kingdom, and we all have protection from his mind control, so it's--"

Abruptly the submersible pitched forwards, right into the Lich.

"What--" began Simon. He checked his circlet again.

Gunter pointed. "Look! The controls!"

Simon looked. "The waving snail! It must have come in with us!" He lunged for the snail, but it was too late. The Lich became a black mist and flowed through the diving bell, on its way to the surface.

Marceline put her face in her hands and groaned. "Great. I guess I shouldn't ask you two to do something about the Lich, but--"

"Are you implying that we couldn't stand up to pastyskull up there?" said Gunter, indicating the empty mass of tar in front of them. "Come on, we're heroes!"

"Yeah!" Simon agreed. "We'll stop the Lich, or die trying!" And they weren't going to die. Even against the Lich. He hoped.

"Those are your only two options," said Marceline, which didn't make Simon feel any more confident. "Come on. I'll show you where we keep the secret weapon."

That sounded good.

 

The secret weapon turned out to be the gauntlet of the legendary Billy, the hero who'd defeated the Lich in the first place.

"You mean to say that Billy defeated both the Lich King and the Lich?" said Gunter, as Simon tried out the gauntlet. "He's just so... He's amazing, that's what he is."

Marceline made kissy noises, and Simon laughed.

Gunter blushed, and said "Oh, come on. It's just a little... little penguin crush." He twiddled his flippers.

Billy was pretty great, Simon had to admit. But he hadn't defeated two liches. Just the one. "The Lich is the Lich King," he explained, glancing at Marceline, who was looking through her pack. "Remember that interdimensional exchange from last decade?" The delegates made a pretty good argument for why their Lich King was much more of a King than Uuu's Lich King. Simon didn't understand why there was only one being in the multiverse who could be called that, but the committee had apparently been on the delegates' side.

"Oh, you mean when you were still wearing nappies?" said Gunter.

"They were not nappies!" He'd only had to wear them at night. He'd had a bed wetting problem. But he wasn't about to admit that in front of Marceline.

"Simon," said Marceline suddenly. "I, uh, wanted you to have this. It's... It's kind of chilly in the Lich's lair. You know."

Simon, who was still thinking about the Lich King, started to say that it wasn't like it was like it was in the Ice Kingdom. Then he saw what he was offering him. It was a sweater, red with a black collar. It felt kind of scratchy. "Marceline, did you... make this?" Marceline was not much of a knitter.

Marceline looked away and said "Just take it, okay? Be glad I didn't stitch spider fangs into the inside."

Simon was pretty glad for that. He pulled it on. "Thanks a lot, Marcy! Are you gonna come with?"

Marceline sighed. "I wish I could, but... I better stay here and reassure my subjects that the Lich is not going to blow up the planet again."

Simon opened the door. "Okay, we better hurry-- again?"

"Never mind," said Marceline. "Just... come back safe, okay?" She leaned down and kissed Simon on the cheek.

"Oi, where's my kiss?" said Gunter. Simon pushed him out the door.

 

"All I'm saying is--" Gunter gasped for air as they ran towards Iceberg Lake. "All I'm saying is-- You don't even like like Marceline. She-- She's like your big sister. Except a vampire!"

"What do you mean, like like?" said Simon, who was much more concerned about catching up to the Lich than whatever Gunter was complaining about.

"You know, like like" said Gunter. He waggled his flippers around. "Like like like."

Simon was beginning to get the picture. "Gunter..."

"Like like like lik-- Oof!" Gunter bumped into someone big and blue.

"Finn-Ice?" said Simon. He put his hand to the pocket where he kept his nunchucks, glad to get off the topic of like liking Marceline. He'd never thought about that before, and it made his skin crawl.

Prince Finn-Ice picked himself up and said "Hey! Watch where you're going!"

Gunter shook his flipper. "Oh yeah? Why don't you watch where you're going? And also take a bath!"

Finn-Ice stared at them blankly and stroked his beard. "Man, what was I going to say to you two? Uh..."

Simon kept his hand on his nunchucks, but he said "Look, we don't have time for this. We have to stop the Lich. Do even know what the Lich is?" He doubted it. For a wizard, Finn-Ice was pretty dumb.

"Well... maybe I don't have time for you!" Finn-Ice yelled, and flew into the sky.

Gunter looked up after him. "Weird. Wonder what he wanted."

"Who cares?" said Simon. "Come on, we have to go after the Lich!"

Gunter started running again, but he said "Ugh, I am exhausted. Tell you what, we'll camp here, and we can go after the Lich King in the morning."

Simon slapped him. "No! Come on!" What would it take for Gunter to understand that this wasn't a game? This wasn't some lowly skeleton monster. The Lich would kill everyone on Earth if they let it.

"All right, all right," said Gunter.

They sped up.

 

Marceline strummed her guitar, sighing. As usual, she'd just made things worse. Not in setting the Lich free. Self-fulfilling prophecies were tricky, and she'd long ago stopped beating herself up when she got caught up in one.

No, it was the royal speech that she'd skronked up. She guessed she probably shouldn't have listed all the ways that the Lich wasn't going to destroy the world - fire, flood, explosion, putting the planet in a bag of holding and throwing it into the sun... - or at least, she shouldn't have gone into detail. But how else were they supposed to know what they didn't have to worry about?

Simon and Gunter would be fine. They were always fine. Even against an incarnation of pure destruction that had terrorised the world for centuries and taken a true hero to--

"Maybe I better go after them," she said aloud. "It's not like I'm doing any good here." She floated out of her castle, over the Monster Kingdom, which was a lot brighter than usual with all the arson and rioting going on, and towards Iceberg Lake. After a second's thought, she touched down and shifted to wolf form. That was faster. She didn't know why she didn't do this more often.

She located the very distinct scent of penguin, and followed it through the grasslands. She was making good time. A few more minutes and she'd catch--

A bolt of ice hit her from above, freezing her back legs.

Oh. That was why she didn't use this form much.

Finn-Ice came down from the sky. "You're a big puppy, aren't you?"

Marceline tried to free her back legs, but they were so cold she could barely move them. And if she couldn't move her legs, she couldn't shift back. "I'm not a puppy, you psycho, I'm a wolf! And I'm not a wolf, I'm a vampire!" What was he, blind? She didn't even look like a real wolf.

"A talking puppy?" said Finn-Ice, squinting at her. "That... That's totally math!" He seemed to come to a decision. "Come on, puppy! This will show Simon and Gunter! I don't need their approval! The approval was in me the whole time!" He tapped his chest.

"What?" said Marceline.

Finn-Ice picked her up and headed for the lake, where Gunter was swimming after the Lich, with Simon riding on his back. Simon was using Billy's gauntlet as a motorboat engine, but it didn't look like he could get a clear shot yet.

"Hey!" called Finn-Ice. "Hey, you guys! Look! I caught a dog all on my own!"

They ignored him. Marceline was kind of proud. Finn Ice was not the issue now. The Lich was the issue. She'd made the right decision in entrusting the safety of all life on Earth to these two. Probably. Responsibility wasn't her strong suit. It was easily the most boring part of being a queen.

The moment that Simon got in range of the Lich was the was the exact moment Finn-Ice chose to drop down and hover right in front of them. "Pay attention to me, guys! Would you just look at this dog!"

Simon lowered the gauntlet. "Marceline?"

"Look at this dog!" Finn-Ice exploded, and pitched Marceline into the water. "Oops. Just... Just stay there, puppy..."

"Marceline!" said Simon. He leaned over the side. "Stay still, I'll blast you loose with the gauntlet."

"N--" Marceline went under for a second. The ice on her back legs floated so well that it was hard to keep her head above the surface. "No!" she repeated, spitting out water. "The Lich, Simon! Stop the Lich!"

"Oh!" Simon glanced ahead. "He's nearly there! Gunter, hurry up!"

"I'm trying!" said Gunter.

Simon put the gauntlet back in the water, and they sped away.

Marceline was almost glad when Finn-Ice picked her up again. The boys needed to focus on stopping the Lich, not whatever trouble she'd got herself into. She'd be fine as soon as she got rid of the ice. For now, she amused herself with fantasies of what she'd do to that weirdo when he let her go.

 

"It went down there!" said Simon, pointing at what looked the entrance to an old... what was it called? A subway, that was it.

"I know, I saw it!" said Gunter. He slid down the stairs, with Simon following close behind.

The subway was quiet. It looked like nobody had been there in years, maybe centuries. There was definitely no Lich. It was pretty hard to miss.

"You know, out of all the scary holes we've been in, this is definitely the second or third most... ancient," whispered Gunter. He tapped a subway car lightly, and it crumbled. "I... I meant to do that."

Simon found it more or less like any other creepy hole of indescribable evil. "Holes are holes," he whispered back.

"What's that me-- uh-oh."

The ground began to rumble, and a group of skeletons in pre-Mushroom war garb pulled themselves out of the dirt.

"Hey skeletons, did you see where--" Simon began, and jumped out of the way as the skeleton swung at him. "I guess they have poo brain."

"Low level mooks always have poo brain," said Gunter, who had one clone of himself holding a skeleton down while two others pummeled it. "I've always wondered about that."

"Well -- eat gauntlet!" Simon fired at the skeletons, with very satisfying results.

They rushed down a few more levels of the subway, to a hole in the ground that emanated disturbing whispers. where the Lich was drinking from a well of green, glowing liquid.

Simon gasped. Green and glowing was the universal symbol of radioactivity! It must have been left over from the Great Mushroom War. "Gunter, I think the Lich needs radioactive liquid to survive! Do you think it was created by the Mushroom War? Is that why it wasn't mentioned in the historical record before then?" Historical records from the centuries after the war were patchy, but the Lich appeared in them again and again.

"I dunno," said Gunter.

The Lich looked up, and Simon remembered where they were. "Eat gauntlet also, Lich!" He fired a beam of energy, which the Lich dodged.

"He's too fast!" said Simon. "I need to get in closer!"

Gunter grew to a huge size. "Whatever you say!" He grabbed Simon and flung him down at the Lich.

"Hey Lich, I got som--"

The Lich grabbed the gauntlet. The gauntlet shattered.

Before Simon could process what had happened, the ground rushed up at him and he landed on his face and slid into a wall.

The whispering got louder.

Simon felt his head. There were no lumps, but something was missing. He glanced around, and saw the mind protecting circlet, half buried in the dirt three feet away. "No!"

"Simon..."

Simon looked at the Lich. He couldn't look away. He could barely turn his head at all. He thought he could hear Gunter saying something, and... was that Marceline? When did she get there?

"Simon, walk into the well..."

Simon tried to stop himself from walking forwards, without much success. The vibrant green of the Lich's well did look kind of inviting. It looked very inviting, compared to the vague blackness of the rest of reality. He could barely make out anything other than the Lich, and that inviting green well.

"Simon... Come here, Simon... Aren't you cold, Simon?"

He was... He felt... He did not feel cold. "I'm wearing a sweater!" Simon blurted. He pulled at it. Somehow, just thinking about the sweater cleared his head.

He didn't get much chance to enjoy his lucidity, because the Lich snarled "You are a joke to me!" and blasted him with radioactive green fire.

Simon screamed, until he noticed he wasn't being burned alive. In fact it didn't hurt at all. He looked down. Was it the sweater...? The sweater Marceline had made him? Maybe... Yes, that was it! He got it now!

He pulled off the sweater, rolled it into a tube, and jumped at the Lich. "Lich! Queen Marceline made me this sweater! Gunter was right, I do think of her as a big sister! And she thinks of me as a little brother!" He hoped. "That's why she made me this sweater! This sweater is imbued with the power of... the power of caring for someone intensely in a familial sort of way! That's what is going to defeat you, Lich!" As he spoke, he whipped the Lich with the sweater, making it stumble into a wall. "While you were trying to mind control me, I thought I heard Marceline's voice! That's what this sweater does! It reminds you of your loved ones!"

He whipped one more time, as hard as he could, and the Lich's head cracked and imploded. The Lich's lair came back into focus, and Simon jumped down.

"That was a really corny speech, you know," said Marceline.

Simon dropped the sweater and whirled around. "Marceline?!"

Finn-Ice was holding Marceline above the well of radioactive goop. She was still in her wolf form, and still trapped in ice.

"You heard me because I was right here, you dork," Marceline added, but she was smiling.

"I tried to tell you, but you were off in your own little world," said Gunter, waving a flipper.

Simon felt his cheeks grow hot. He was never going to live this down, ever.

But at least he'd have a chance to try, because he'd defeated the Lich, and life would go on. He'd actually managed to defeat the most evil and terrible being in Uuu. The worst was over. "Finn-Ice, let her go!" he said. "She's not even a dog!"

Finn Ice turned to look at Marceline, and wrinkled his forehead. "Then why does she look like a dog, nerd-boy?" he demanded, releasing Marceline and waving his hands around.

Marceline dropped right into the well. The ice burned off, and she reverted back to her humanoid form as she vanished beneath the surface.

Finn Ice looked at Simon and Gunter, then at the well, then at Simon and Gunter again. "Uh... Oops?"

Chapter Text

The Year of the Dog
August

The Sea of Something unfolded beneath Bonnibel and Lady as they flew eastwards, following the glowing streamers that marked the ocean currents.

Lady pointed ahead. "There! They all lead to that beach!"

She was right, but Bonnibel couldn't see the exact point of convergence. They were lost in the turmoil a few hundred feet off shore. "We better take a closer look."

The beach they landed on wasn't much more than a thin strip of coarse, frost-covered sand between the rocks and the water. If Bonnibel had her geography right, they were right on the outskirts of the Ice Kingdom.

Lady dipped a foot in the water, and quickly pulled it out. "Brrrr!" She rubbed her feet together. "I don't know how I expected it to feel."

"I'm sure this is the origin of the anomalies," said Bonnibel, using a thermometer to measure the water temperature. "Hm. Normally this water would be flowing west to cool the Monster Kingdom. This must be it's been so hot lately!"

Just as she'd thought. It was a good thing too. It had taken hours to put all that light in the water.

Lady scanned the empty beach. "What do you think it is?"

Bonnibel did the same. "I don't know yet. With Simon and Gunter missing, I suspect foul play."

"Oh, they're missing?" said Lady worriedly. "I didn't know that."

Bonnibel picked a chunk of ice off the ground and inspected it. "They were last heard from a week ago. Finn Ice was keeping half the grasslands awake with his fresh jams, so Simon and Gunter chased him to the Ice Kingdom. And then, all three of them vanished." She dropped the ice and rummaged through her pack for her radar.

"Finn Ice!" Lady repeated. She gestured at the icy landscape. "Could he be behind this?"

Bonnibel shook her head. "He's terrified of the ocean, Lady. I think we can rule him out. For once." Something on the radar caught her eye. "A cave!"

She and Lady ran up the beach to a collection of small boulders. According to the radar, there was a deep cave right below their feet.

Bonnibel produced a crowbar and began clearing away the rocks. "Feel like going spelunking?"

Lady gulped, but she said "Let's go."

 

"You know, I think I'm finally getting the hang of it."

Simon groaned. "Go suck on a... cheese ball..." he whispered. He wanted to yell, but he was too weak to raise his voice.

"What did you say? I didn't catch that." The sound of footsteps approached.

Simon grit his teeth. "I said--" Pain exploded in his chest, and he screamed.

"Don't be such a baby. It's just one rib."

"Ri... cardio..." Simon muttered. He'd never hated a part of his body as much as he hated his heart right now. Simon might not be as much of a hero as he tried to be, but he would never put somebody on biomagical life support and steal their organs to build himself a better body.

Would he?

Ricardio was a part of him.

Didn't that make them, at some level, the same?

Simon's rib began to grow back, and his attention returned to the gaping hole in his chest.

"Something tells me you don't want to be here, Simon," Ricardio was saying. "You know you can leave at any time."

Simon forced himself to look up, and said "You are a complete butt."

Ricardio had given him back his sword days ago, but even with his mind clouded from the pain, Simon knew he couldn't cut himself lose. The arteries that bound him to the floor were also the only thing keeping him alive, as well as the only reason his organs regenerated when Ricardio took them. Simon didn't think his heart wanted him dead yet, but only because it would be inconvenient. Maybe if he tried to escape, Ricardio would just reattach him and take parts from his corpse.

He held onto the sword, though. Maybe he could only cut some of the arteries. He didn't need them all to stay alive. Right? He could function on only a little blood. If he just cut all the ones on his right side, maybe he could stretch the left ones far enough get to the pool of water Ricardo had his stolen hands in.

"Yes, I think it's time..." said Ricardio to himself.

"Time for... Time for what?" Simon mumbled, though he thought he knew. There was only one thing in the ocean important enough for his heart to risk insanity.

 

The cave started out as a narrow tunnel, but it soon widened into a chamber large enough to stand up in. Up ahead, three tunnels tunnels snaked off into the ground. They seemed to be coated in something shiny and red. Mucus membrane? No, that was silly. Bonnibel had been dissecting too many bodies.

Bonnibel inspected her heart monitor, which was the only locating device that seemed to work down here. "Hmm... There's three hearts over that way. No, wait! Eight."

"Eight?" said Lady, peering at the heart monitor. "Are you sure?"

Bonnibel selected the fastest heart rate and zoomed in a bit. "Look. This one has five heartbeats close by, and they're going even faster." She needed to add a function that displayed the exact beats per minute. It was hard to judge by eye at speeds like these.

"Parasites?" Lady suggested.

"I don't think so," said Bonnibel. She bit her lip. "Listen. The other two heartbeats are at a rate consistent with humanoids." She pointed at the cluster of heartbeats. "Hearts this fast are usually found in small animals. I think we found the boys, and Finn Ice. And I think Gunter might be-- Look out!"

A tentacle whipped towards them, and Bonnibel dived out of the way just in time.

It hit Lady right in the belly.

"Lady!" Bonnibel reached into her backpack and drew her Ball Blam Burglerber.

 

Ricardio checked on his old host before he did anything else. Simon had passed out again, but he seemed to be breathing. Good. As enjoyable as it was to taunt him, he would have to stop him if he really tried to cut his way free. Ricardio hadn't yet perfected his new body, and even if there had been any other humans around, there was no guarantee that their organs would be a proper match.

All his body really, really needed was a head large enough to wear a crown. But Ricardio was a big believer in form over function. His girls would be arriving soon, and he had to look his best.

In fact, it was just about time for his first guest. Ricardio took Finn Ice's crown from where he'd dropped it, and placed it back on his body's head.

He could wear the crown without ill effects because, as Simon had theorised, it only drove non-magical creatures insane. That was why nothing had happened to Gunter. Ricardio had taken a huge gamble in assuming that Simon was correct, but some things were worth it for love.

Afterwards, he'd thanked Simon profously, but Simon hadn't responded. He'd probably accidentally crushed a fly or something. By Ricardio's calculations, the accidental death of an insect corresponded to at least three solid hours of self-flaggellation. No wonder Simon had ended up this way.

He dipped his hands in the water. This pool was connected to the open sea, and as long as he was touching it, he could influence the temperature of the ocean anywhere within about a ten mile radius. Water got denser as it got colder, and changes in density drove ocean currents.

Well, that and wind, but he couldn't do much about that from here. Maybe later.

Ricardio concentrated. A few months ago, he'd found that he could influence Simon's interests. As a result, Simon had gained a sudden fascination with the terrain of the ocean floor all around Uuu. He'd made some very detailed maps, without ever suspecting a thing.

He conjured up an image of those maps in his mind, and cooled the water at three very specific locations.

There was a loud wooshing, and then a splash.

Ricardio took enough of a look to confirm that he'd caught the fish he was aiming for, and blasted ice at the pile of boulders he'd balanced just above the pool. They fell, sealing off the crack at the bottom of the pool that led outside.

He threw off the crown and jumped into the water. Ricardio had deliberately designed this body without lungs, so that he could interact with either of his future wives without trouble.

The most beautiful and enchanting princess in the ocean or out of it was cradling her head, clearly a bit dazed.

Ricardio swam over to her. "I'm sorry, my sweet. Did I hurt you?"

Betty focused on him, then looked over her shoulder. "Are you talking to me? Are you-- Did you pull me in here?"

Ricardio put a hand on her arm, and grabbed her wrist when she pulled away. "Yes, of course. Beautiful."

"What?!" Betty managed to break out of his grip -- Ricardio needed to increase his muscle mass -- and swam for the exit.

She was so sassy. Ricardio loved that about her. Up to a point.

He stayed where he was. There was nowhere for her to go.

Betty came back a few seconds later. "There's no way out of here. What did you do? What do you want?" She seemed perfectly calm now, which Ricardio took as a good sign.

Ricardio kissed her dainty webbed hand. "Not much. Just your hand in marriage."

Betty didn't swim away or jerk back this time. She just looked at him strangely. "I don't even know you. I'm not gonna marry someone I don't even know. Who are you?"

"Are you sure you don't know me, princess?" said Ricardio. He pulled her into a one-handed embrace, which she immediately slipped out of, and pointed upwards. "Take a look up there."

Betty took a deep breath and poked her head above the water. There was a short gasp, and she came back under, coughing up bubbles.

"What did you do to--" She coughed again. "What did you do to Simon?" A small whirlpool began to form in the centre of the pool.

"Forget about him," said Ricardio soothingly. "You're with me now. The best part of Simon." Much better than that overactive brain. He was seriously considering removing Simon's amygdala permanently.

"The best part...? What does..." The look on Betty's face told Ricardio that she'd just got it. "What have you done to yourself this time, Simon?" she said quietly.

"What does it matter?" So Simon hadn't told Betty about him. Good. He didn't want Betty's opinion tained by Simon's misguidedness.

Betty flipped onto her back and swam into the shallows. The whirlpool subsided. "Okay, listen. I'm flattered that Simon likes me so much that his heart would... try to kidnap me, but it's not going to work out between us. Unblock the tunnel and... fix Simon, and we'll pretend this never happened."

"Simon?" said Ricardio with a laugh. "He can't even breathe underwater. Why would I want to, uh, "fix" him?"

He'd expected something like this. Betty didn't yet understand Ricardio's superiority, or how beyond fixing Simon was. Simon could barely even stay awake for more than two minutes at a time. His "hero" days were over. He should have been grateful Ricardio was even keeping him alive for spare parts, but of course he wasn't. That boy had no sense of priorities.

"So, you say you can do anything Simon can do?" said Betty. She still didn't seem angry. This was going to be easy.

"Yes, and more." Ricardio took her hand and kissed it.

Betty pulled her hand away gently. "Can you... solve this differential equation?"

She produced an underwater notebook, wrote something, and handed it over.

Ricardio stared at the equation with his hand on the chin of his head. It didn't look easy, but it was definitely something that Simon was capable of. And that meant that Ricardio could do it too. "I can. May I borrow your pen?"

Betty gave it to him, and he scribbled furiously for a few minutes. Eventually he figured it out and held up the answer, breathing hard. Mathematics was invigorating!

Betty took the notebook and inspected it carefully. She hadn't warmed up enough to him to tell him if he was right or not, but he could see it on her face. He'd solved it perfectly. Just like Simon would have. No, better than Simon.

"You see?" he said.

Apparently Betty needed a bit more convincing, because she said "And if a hybernotalist rift forms inside another hybernotalist rift, how does that affect the arrangement of the spiral nano-babylons?"

Ricardio laughed. Now she was asking trivia questions? He had this. He'd nearly captured her heart. And the rest of her. "They would form a g-dimensional hypotetrabubaflo, resulting in the complete collapse of the plasmid ecosystem, of course."

"One more question," said Betty. She swam up to him, and Ricardio smiled. He'd practically won her over already. "Why is it wrong to kidnap people?"

Ricardio frowned. "I'm sorry, I don't think I follow." What was this? Philosophy? He didn't know she was into philosophy.

Betty got very close, and Ricardio beat hard. "Why. Is. Kidnapping. Wrong?"

Ah. It was a trick question. "Right... wrong... Who makes these concepts? Philosophers? Don't slow yourself down with the soft sciences. Or you'll end up like him." He waved his hand in the general direction of Simon.

He smiled. She'd probably never thought of it that way before! He'd even managed to include another dig at Simon's inadequacy. He was on fire today.

Maybe it was because she was a mermaid, but Ricardio couldn't quite identify Betty's reaction. She was frowning and her eyes were narrowed. She looked almost... contemptuous. "Simon is a kamillion times better than you."

Hm. Maybe she wasn't as smart as he'd thought. That was disappointing. "That's not very scientific, my dear."

Betty opened her mouth, and there was a beep from the manly, muscular pager on one of Ricardio's manly, muscular wrists.

"Oh my. And so far ahead of schedule." Someone else had arrived in the inner sanctum. Someone made of sugar, butadiene, and artificial flavourings. "I'm sorry princess, but I have another... haha, engagement."

Betty spat salt at him, and Ricardio wiped it off with one of his backup livers. She'd come around. He was glad for the respite, to tell the truth. He needed to think of a better approach.

Bonnibel would be easy. He'd charmed her before, and he could do it again. And then she could help him crack the princess.

 

The crown rolled to a stop at Simon's shoulder, but Simon barely noticed. One look at Ricardio's delighted face before he'd dived in was all he needed to convince himself that he'd trapped Betty.

No matter how he craned his neck, he couldn't tell what was going on in the pool. Was Ricardio trying to cut out her heart too? Or had he been telling the truth when he'd said he wanted the "whole package"? Simon didn't know if the crown's effects had really been blocked by Ricardio's inherent magic, or if it just couldn't make him any crazier than he already was.

The crown...

Simon reached over painfully and managed to grab one of its points. Maybe he could... He had to save Betty. He had to save her! It was his fault she was trapped like this. Ricardio was only in love with her because Simon was. He had to make it right.

Even if it meant... Even if it meant losing himself. It was the price he paid for getting her into this.

He managed to grab hold of the crown with both hands, but he couldn't bring himself to put it on. What if he became even more dangerous than Ricardio? What could he even do without a heart? Magic almost always got weaker as the caster did.

What if he made Betty hate him? To his knowledge, Finn Ice had been a pretty okay guy until he'd got the crown, and now he was... Well, he was Finn Ice.

Someone kicked him in the side. "Oof!"

"Simon?" It was Bonnibel. "Is that you?" She looked down and shrieked.

"Hey," said Simon weakly. He was well aware of how he must look. He'd shriek at himself too. Maybe. If he thought Gunter wouldn't make fun of him for it. For very long.

He held onto the crown. Maybe Bonnibel could succeed where he'd failed, but Ricardio was in love with her as well. As long as he was free, she was in danger. Simon should have realised something like this would happen. He should have done more to get over his crush on her. There were so many things he should have done

"Bonnibel! What a pleasant surprise."

Bonnibel peered into the darkness. "Ricardio...?"

Ricardio stepped into the light, revealing the body he'd built. "Yes, it is I."

Simon rolled his eyes, and winced as pain shot through the front of his skull. Ricardio had spent nearly a full day setting up the lighting that made that entrance possible.

"I must say, I'm impressed that you found me so quickly. What gave it away? Psycho-magical residue, perhaps? Did one of those taffy dogs sniff us out?"

"Where's Gunter?" Bonnibel demanded. She hesitated. "And... And Finn-Ice?"

"Don't worry, they're safe," said Ricardio, incorrectly. "See?" He leaned down and hefted Gunter and Finn Ice over like sacks of potatoes.

Bonnibel held Gunter's flipper. "Poisoned with zanoits..." she mumbled. "I can't believe even you would do this to-- Simon, is that Finn Ice's crown?"

Simon dropped the crown. Under her glare, wearing the crown didn't seem so heroic and redeeming.

"You didn't put it on, did you?" said Bonnibel, checking his forehead.

Simon shook his head, which didn't help his headache, and managed to say "I'm so sorry! I couldn't stop him. I'm sorry!"

"It's okay--" Bonnibel began.

"Oh Bonnibel!" called Ricardio. "Look what I can do now!" He picked something long and thick up from the floor -- It was Lady Rainicorn! She was singed and seemed to be unconscious. "Behold!" Ricardio held Lady above his head and tied her in a knot.

Bonnibel gasped. So did Simon.

"What is wrong with you?" demanded Bonnibel, still with a hand on Simon's forehead.

Ricardio got up close to her and said "Now now, what kind of a tone is that to take towards your future husband?"

Simon tried to focus through the fuzziness in his brain. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" No, there was something else he could say. He was sure. Something he could say that would outwit Ricardio and make everything right. "I'm sorry, Bonnie..."

"Silence, Simon!" said Ricardio, and stamped on his face.

 

Betty searched floor to surface for a way out of the pool, but that heart guy had done a good job sealing it. With the room almost entirely flooded with air, the only was she was getting out was if she learned to hold her breath.

What did he expect her to do? Sit here for the rest of her life, completely isolated from the ocean?

Someone plunged their head into the water, and Betty turned towards them with a scowl.

To her surprise, it wasn't heart guy this time. It was just her second least favourite person in the world. "Bonnibel." Her scowl deepened.

"Wait!" said Bonnibel, like Betty had anywhere to go. "Just hear me out!" She turned her head to the side, turned back, and continued. "I understand why you don't want to talk to me, but I think I know how to stop Ricardio."

Ricardio? What was that, the heart guy's name? Why would a heart need a name? Surface people were weird. Betty folded her arms and waited for Bonnibel to continue.

"All you have to do is reject him," Bonnibel said. "He's really sensitive to that. The hard part is getting him to believe you. You may have to use violence."

"You want me to break Simon's heart?" said Betty. She was on to Bonnibel. Ricardio was a creep, and she did want to violently reject him, but if the price was ruining her relationship with the only boy who'd ever liked her, it was too high.

Bonnibel looked genuinely confused. "What? They're separate beings now. Simon is never gonna feel what Ricardio does. I'd do it myself, but it would work much better with you. I think he likes you as much as Simon does! Please, Betty, it'll be fine. I told you, I won't interfere in your relationships anymore."

Betty doubted it, but there were more important things on the line than Bonnibel's scheming. As far as she could see, there were two choices. She could risk having to break up with her boyfriend, or she could stay in this cave forever with an eviscerated boyfriend that she could never touch or speak to. And his wad of a heart.

"Fine. Tell him... Tell him I want to fight him in oceanic wrestling." Betty had an idea. Mostly her idea was about beating up Ricardio.

Bonnibel smiled and made a circle with her finger and thumb.

Betty rotated onto her back and looked beyond the surface. She could just see Bonnibel speaking to a very smug-looking Ricardio. Bonnibel offered him some valuable-looking crown, but Ricardio shook his head and knocked it away.

When he looked away, Bonnibel smirked.

Ricardio splashed into the water. "Betty, my dear! Bonnibel tells me you came around to my charms after all!" He glanced up at Bonnibel, who was watching them. "Oh, I hope you don't mind sharing."

"Yeah, whatever," said Betty. "I mean..." She put on the formal voice she usually reserved for visiting dignitaries. "Your interest in me is flattery enough, Sir... Heart Guy...?"

"Please, call me Ricardio," said Ricardio. "Bonnibel mentioned a friendly bout...?" He posed, making sure Betty could see every one of his muscles.

Yeah. 'Friendly.' "Are you sure you really want to do this?" said Betty. "I'm pretty good." She didn't actually care about his safety, but she didn't want him to say she hadn't warned him.

"Of course!" said Ricardio. He posed again. "How can I resist such a Valkyrian proposal?"

In response, Betty started a mild current around the pool. It was a pretty standard opener when you didn't know much about your opponent.

Ricardio's response was not standard. He remained stationary by holding onto the wall, and took a swing at her.

Betty used the current to tug his arm away, and frowned. Did he even know what oceanic wrestling was? She assumed he had some way to control the currents, or he wouldn't have been able to trap her like this, so why wasn't he using it?

"Ooh, I'm impressed," said Ricardio, trying to pull his arm forward. Betty increased the flow.

One by one, the sinews on Ricardio's arm began to detach.

How poorly was this body put together? Had he made it himself, or something? It was barely enough pressure to keep his arm pinned. She pulled harder, and the arm flew off and down the length of the pool.

Ricardio clung to the wall, speechless for once.

Betty yanked off his other arm and used a vortex to hold him at eye level. "Do you even know anything about this sport? Do you know anything about the ocean? About me?"

Ricardio opened his mouth, but Betty couldn't really hear him over the whirling of the current. She caught something about love, and making her happy.

"The second rule of oceanic wrestling is to go with the flow, and you didn't even do that!" said Betty. "You think you know all about me, don't you? Simon may not know much about the ocean either, but at least he's trying to learn! You just messed him up and jumped right in here like you already knew everything! I don't know what kind of crazy magic made you, but you're not Simon's heart. You're not even his butt."

She pulled off his legs one at a time.

"And by the way, the first rule of oceanic wrestling is not to enter a match with the freaking ocean princess unless you know what you're doing!" Her anger made her more forceful than she intended, but she didn't really care. She'd show Bonnibel who was physically unstable.

Finally, she ripped off his stupid fake head and tossed him onto land with a water spout.

As much as she hated to admit it, Bonnibel was probably right about one thing. Betty refused to believe that there was any real connection between Simon and Ricardio. It might as well have been his bow tie or boots that had come to life.

 

It took a bit of time, but Bonnibel got them all outside. Simon had woken up eventually, but he'd passed out again when she removed him from those life support... tendrils. Probably just shock. She hoped.

Since it had happened magically, the loss of his heart wouldn't kill him straight away. She didn't know exactly how long he had, though. He needed real treatment, fast.

Finn Ice and Gunter were both stable, though she couldn't wake them up. How long had they been out? Zanoit-derived poisons only got stronger the longer they were left untreated.

Lady had second degree burns all over her body. She was awake, but barely, and Bonnibel felt terrible for bringing her along. If only she'd known the dungeon was so dangerous.

So. She had four people in need of varying levels of medical attention. She wished the tentacles hadn't taken her backpack, but there was only so much she could do in the field.

Bonnibel turned back towards the ocean. Approaching the shore was a raft made of tree trunks tied together with kelp. Betty had come back with the driftwood she'd promised to find.

Bonnibel braced herself, shoved her face into the freezing water, and said "Thanks, Betty!"

"No problem," Betty replied.

Bonnibel still didn't think Betty liked her much, and she couldn't really blame her. She was just glad Betty was mature enough put aside their differences when something more came up. And it was good to see Simon getting over his silly crush on Bonnibel and dating someone his own age.

He wasn't completely over her, if Ricardio was any indication, but... At least he had a girlfriend.

Bonnibel pulled the raft over to shore and lifted the others on one at a time. There was room as long as Lady coiled up a bit.

As she lifted Simon, he groaned and opened his eyes. "What...? Where's B...? Is...? C...?"

It took a second for Bonnibel to figure out what he was trying to say. "Betty's fine, Simon. She's going to help up the river, to my lab."

She put him on the raft. He tried to sit up, and fell back down. "Ri...?"

"The one between the Ice Kingdom and the Monster Kingdom, of course!" He was in worse shape than she'd thought if he couldn't remember the river he lived right next to him.

Betty poked her head out of the water and gurgled at Simon, then dove back under.

The current began to pick up, and the raft floated west, towards the mouth of the river.

"We can't go upstream without a method of propulsion, so... Simon?"

Simon's eyes were closed, but he seemed to be awake. He chuckled until he ran out of breath, then chuckled again.

Bonnibel felt his forehead, but he was quite cool. At least he didn't have a fever.

 

The trip went smoothly until sundown, when Simon started trying to take off his vest.

"Simon, what are you doing?" Bonnibel demanded. She grabbed his wrist. It was cold enough out here without getting naked.

Simon tried to jerk his hand away. "I'm just so hot," he said, a bit more clearly than before. "I'll sweat to death if I can't get this on."

"Did he say he was hot?" said Lady. She pressed a leg against his forehead, then pulled it back in alarm. "He's ice cold!"

Bonnibel felt Simon's forehead as well. Lady was right. She couldn't get an exact reading without a thermometer, but most mammals were definitely not supposed to get this cool.

"Hey, stop that," Simon slurred.

What was the matter with him? He hadn't really put on the crown, had he? His temperature was down, he was acting very strange... No, the physical changes didn't happen that fast. Besides, his eyes were still black.

It was something else, probably something to do with the loss of his heart... Oh! Of course! Bonnibel slapped herself in the forehead. "How could I have been so stupid?" It wasn't magic at all. "Lady, Simon has hypothermia. He can't regulate his body temperature without a heart, we need to warm him up. Are you strong enough to phase him into your body?" They should never have taken him so close to the Ice Kingdom.

Lady concentrated for a second, then said "I can't. I'm sorry. I've been nothing but a burden to you this entire time!"

"Don't say sorry," said Bonnibel. "You're not well either. Maybe--"

"I'm sorry," said Simon, for no apparent reason. "I'm so sorry." He trailed his hand in the water and mumbled to himself. "Heheh. The water's cool. It's so cool, it's... it's rad. On the crazy sick scale, it's at least a solid... twenty-seven... Maybe twenty-eight..."

"Simon, quit apologising!" said Bonnibel. "And get your hand out of there." At this rate he wouldn't even last the night.

Lady used her teeth to pull his arm out by the sleeve. "Simon! You'll make yourself even colder!"

"What?" said Simon. "I... I don't... Don't try to confuse me, Lady. I know what you really meant. You really said... She said... Simon. Is that... What is that? My name?" He looked into the water, keeping his hand out this time. "Look, it's Betty!"

Betty, who'd been keeping pace with the raft, saw them looking and waved.

"Hi, Betty," said Simon, waving back as Lady pressed against him to warm him up. "I think you're one of my favourite princess, Betty. Hey, Betty. Let's have babies, Betty. And let's teach them to be good babies."

It was probably a good thing Betty couldn't hear him. Bonnibel moved Simon to the center of the raft and coiled Lady around him, before moving Gunter onto his chest. She left Finn Ice where he was. He was naturally-- he was always cold.

 

Simon opened his eyes. He had vague memories of fire and ice -- dreams, he guessed -- but he felt okay now. Not great, but he didn't seem to be dying.

Where was he? Some sort of hospital? He sat up.

Yes, this was the hospital in the Monster Kingdom. He could tell by the spider patterns on the bed curtains. He'd ended up here enough times to know what they looked like. And to able to tell when they weren't patterns.

Simon stood unsteadily and opened the curtains. Bonnibel was talking to Doctor Princess at the far end of the room, but she looked around at the noise. "Simon! You're awake!"

"What happened?" said Simon. He took a step, and frowned. His body was making a weird sound. A... rattling? Yes, he was rattling. "What is that?"

Bonnibel looked him over. "Oh, that's just the maracas I used to make you a new heart. Don't worry, it should go away by the time the chest wound heals."

That wouldn't take long. Or it hadn't taken long last time Ricardio had shown up. Simon pulled his chest open and felt around inside. Bonnibel was right. There were definitely maracas in there. And... what was that sticky stuff holding them together? Toffee? Bonnibel did use a lot of candy as biomass substitute.

He guessed he probably shouldn't poke it.

Simon still had more questions than he could count, but he asked the most important one first. "Where's Gunter? Is he okay?"

Bonnibel smiled. "Yes. I just gave him and Finn the antidote I devised. He's over there. Gunter, I mean."

Simon sprinted to the bed she'd indicated and opened the curtain. "Gunter! Are you okay?"

"Yeah," replied Gunter slowly. His voice sounded a bit weak, but he had been poisoned for a really long time. Simon had faith in Bonnibel's skills. "Are you?"

"I think so," said Simon. He was definitely regaining his strength. "Bonnibel made me a new heart. Listen!" He moved from side to side, jiggling the maracas in his chest.

They both laughed.

"I hear mirth!" said Finn Ice from behind them. He picked Simon up and shook him vigorously. "You're right dude, this is hilarious! Shaka shaka shaka!"

"Put me down!" said Simon. He was beginning to get light-headed, like he'd been on the raft.

Oh Glob. The raft! Simon elbowed Finn Ice to make him drop him and said "Gunter! We were on a raft, and it was so hot I acted crazy! I have to go apologise to Betty! I think... I think I punned, Gunter!"

Gunter groaned weakly in reply. His eyes were closed.

"Gunter?" Simon repeated. He touched his forehead in an attempt to clear his thoughts, and leaned over the bed. "Gunter, what's the matter?" Was he beyond help? Had the Zanoits spent too long in his system? What was going on?

"Not Gunter!" said Finn Ice, pushing Simon out of the way. "Gunter, speak to me!"

Gunter waved his flipper weakly, then fell back on the bed. There was something wrong with his stomach. It was... growing? Should it be growing? That wasn't normal, even for magic penguins. Right?

"Oh no!" said Doctor Princess, behind them. "It's starting already? Get out of the way!"

Simon grabbed Finn Ice and let her pass. If anyone could help Gunter, Doctor Princess could. She was Uuu's leading specialist in treating little tuxedo people.

"Out of the way, short stuff!" said Finn Ice, trying to pull Simon away. "I wanna see!" After a couple of ineffective tugs, he gave up and froze Simon's legs.

Simon tried to pull his feet out, but the ice was too thick. "Hey!" Great. And on a day he was wearing shoes, too. They were going to be soaked by the time he got out of this.

Finn Ice tried to push past Doctor Princess to see what was going on. "Dee-Prins! Dee-Pree, I want in on this!"

Simon looked around wildly, but Bonnibel seemed to have disappeared. He had an idea of his own, but... He didn't like it. Oh well. If he cared about Gunter's safety, he had no choice. "Finn Ice, wait. Listen to this." He jerked from side to side, setting off the maracas.

Finn Ice immediately forgot what he was doing and laughed. "Brilliant! That's brilliant!" He slapped his knees. "You're like, Simon the Human Percussion Section!"

Simon didn't know how, but he managed to keep it up until Doctor Princess was done with... whatever. Emergency surgery?

"You need to get some rest," he heard Doctor Princess say.

"Junk that," said Gunter. "I've been resting all week. I've got to show Simon!"

Simon looked around, but he couldn't twist far enough to see the bed. "Gunter?"

Finn Ice gasped theatrically.

Then Gunter walked into his field of vision, holding five eggs in his arms.

"Eggs?" said Simon, puzzled. "Are they..." Gunter had been sick, and now he wasn't, and he was holding eggs... "Were you pregnant? Why didn't you tell me?"

Gunter began rubbing each egg over his body, one by one. "I dunno. I just never found the right time."

How had he got pregnant? Maybe he really was a woman. Or maybe not. It was hard to tell with Gunter.

Doctor Princess applied a stethoscope to each of the five eggs. "Good news. They all sound perfectly healthy."

Gunter pumped his flipper. "Yes! Simon! I'm going to be a parent! I'm going to have five babies!"

Simon smiled weakly, noticed Finn Ice reaching to pick him up again, and ducked.

"So, who's the... other parent?" said Doctor Princess. "If you don't mind me asking."

Gunter just shrugged, and Simon wondered if even he knew.

Chapter Text

The Year of the Lich
May

Simon huddled on a plastic chair opposite the Monster Kingdom hospital's single operating theatre, knees pulled up to his chest. Marceline was alive. At least she was alive. But the way she'd looked when they'd pulled her out of the Lich's well... She'd been... floppy. And melty. It was like she was made of wax and someone had brought her too close to the Fire Kingdom.

Finn Ice poked him, breaking into his thoughts. "So... I still don't get it. That slamacow puppy I kidnapped just now was really... princess Whatsherface?"

"Queen Marceline," Simon growled. They wouldn't have got Marceline here so fast without Finn Ice's help, but if he hadn't been his normal crazy idiot kidnapping butterfingered self, they wouldn't have needed to.

"Well why didn't you tell me?" demanded Finn Ice. "I thought we were bros!"

Simon clenched his fists so hard that his fingernails dug into his flesh. "I did tell you." They were not, and never would be, bros.

Finn Ice blew a raspberry. "Whatever. You should have told me louder! Now she's probably dead and it's all your fault. Nice work, S the H."

Simon jumped up. "My...!" He sat down with an effort, but he couldn't control the volume of his voice. "How is it my fault?!"

"Hey," said Gunter. "Don't go blaming him for something he didn't do." He patted Simon on the shoulder. "Are you okay, Simon?"

"Huh?" said Simon. Of course he was okay. It was Marceline they needed to worry about. "Yeah. He's just being a donk, like always." He might have done some things he wasn't proud of, but being in the same room when Finn Ice did something stupid wasn't one of them. Why would Gunter even think that?

"A donk who's telling the truth," said Finn Ice. He folded his arms and pouted.

Simon sighed heavily. Why was Finn Ice even still hanging around? He obviously didn't care about Marceline's wellbeing. Why didn't he just go play charades with Jake or whatever he normally did with his spare time?

The door opened, and Simon jumped up again. "Marceline!"

It wasn't Marceline. It was just Nurse Diptera, rubbing her front legs together the way she always did when she was on duty. It looked like a nervous habit, but she was actually grooming herself. The gross juice that her legs oozed was not good for patients, even other flies. "You can come in now."

Simon pushed past her into the airy room, yelled "Sorry, Nurse Diptera!" when he realised what he'd done, and rushed to the side of the bed. "Marceline, are you awake?"

"She's..." began Doctor Zombi.

"I'm fine," said Marceline at the same time. "I just need to rest." Her eyes were open, but she sounded weak. She seemed to have regained her shape, though, and her skin was a healthy grey colour.

Gunter climbed onto the bed and ran his flippers through Marceline's hair. Worryingly, she didn't stop him.

"I hope you're right," said Bonnibel. Bonnibel wasn't really a doctor, but she did know a lot about magic and life and how to preserve life in spite of magic. "We don't have any monster blood left."

Gunter slid off the bed and said "I thought vampires only drank blood for the colour."

"Usually, but sometimes it can help with--"

"Oh, she's okay!" said Finn Ice, coming up behind them. "I bet that's a relief, huh Simon? You didn't kill her after all!"

Simon whirled around. "What is wrong with you, you... jerk?!" Only his relief that Marceline was alive kept him from doing something he'd regret.

"Temper, temper," said Finn Ice, waving his finger. "Just for that remark, I'm not gonna tell you about the really, really, vitally important thing I saw!"

"What?" said Bonnibel. "What did you see?"

Finn Ice shot a bolt of ice over his shoulder, smashed a window, and flew backwards out of the room. "I'm... not... telling!"

Simon screamed the only word he could think of. "Darn!"

Marceline mumbled something about wizards.

Simon tried to compose himself. "Sorry, Marcy. He won't bother you anymore." She seemed a bit better, but he was sure she was still in shock from everything that had happened.

But she was alive.

Now they had to make sure she stayed that way.

 

"Marceline, wake up!" said Simon.

Marceline stirred in her bed. She'd been discharged from the hospital a few hours ago, when Doctor Zombi had found nothing wrong with her. Apparently blood was some sort of cure-all for vampires.

"Marceline!" said Gunter. "Look! We're putting on a magic show for you!" They had top hats and wands and everything.

Bed rest was boring. She needed something to spice it up. Gunter had been sentenced to bed rest a couple of times, and he didn't know what he would have done if Simon hadn't been willing to entertain him.

"It's just fake magic!" added Simon.

This was going to be so great. Fake magic was the best kind of magic. With real magic, either you had it or you didn't. Nothing in between. Fake magic at least took some skill.

Marceline just stared at them. She didn't even smile, but that wasn't that unusual for her. She was not a smiley person.

Simon coughed uncomfortably. "We're gonna start off with a card trick. Just take a card, and we'll..."

Marceline abruptly sat up, and Simon fanned out the cards for her, but instead of reaching for them, she flopped forwards and wriggled like she was trying to sniff something out.

Gunter shrunk and hid behind Simon. "Is that supposed to happen?" he whispered.

"I don't know," whispered Simon. "Listen, we gotta be cool. We can't make her feel bad while she's sick."

"Okay..." said Gunter reluctantly. She was probably just having seizures or something. Or... maybe something less dangerous sounding. "Maybe we should try something else. You perfected that rope illusion yet?"

"I think so-- Hey! Where'd she go?"

"What?" Gunter looked back to see Marceline missing, and the bathroom door open.

They ran in to find her searching for something under the sink. "Oi! Marcy!" Gunter cloned himself a few times and dragged her back to bed. "You shouldn't be up! Just relax and enjoy the show!"

They lifted her onto her bed, and Gunter went back to the doorway to get the ropes. Even if they couldn't do the rope illusion, there were plenty of escape artist things they could try! It was good practice for adventures, too!

Simon had been carrying the props, so it took a couple of minutes to untangle everything. Simon could tangle something just by looking at it. He could probably tangle a basketball.

He managed to extricate the ropes, and turned back to the bed to see Marceline whispering something to Simon.

Simon said "Of course I will, Marceline," then headed for the door. "Gunter, Marceline wants me to get her some things. I'll be back in a minute."

Gunter held out the ropes. "What about the tricks? I can't do them on my own." He couldn't just clone himself. You didn't use real magic in a fake magic show. That was just stupid. Also he didn't have fingers.

"Just do that keyboard thing," Simon suggested. He ran out the door. "BRB!"

It was a good thing Gunter carried at least four wireless keyboards with him at all times. He got them out one by one and cloned himself five times. "You like music, don't you, Marceline?" Of course she did. That was one of her defining traits, like being moody and having mixed feelings about everyone.

All six of him began to play a piece he'd composed himself. It was hard to focus on playing with so many clones. It was easy to slap bad guys with multiple bodies, but music was complicated. He didn't know how anyone managed to play with eight fingers. Or ten fingers? How many did people have? He could never remember. Nine fingers?

He was so lost in concentration that he barely heard the growling from behind until it became screaming. One of his clones looked around, and he faltered. "Marcy...?"

She was twitching and moving around like some kind of... demon. She was a demon, or a half-demon or something, but it wasn't usually so obvious. Maybe she really was having a seizure!

She seemed to run out of energy, and fell back weakly.

"I'm sorry, Marceline," said Gunter. She was even sicker than he'd thought. Maybe now wasn't the best time for such an experimental piece. "Listen, I'll play you something else to make you feel better!"

This one was only a two person piece. Maybe three in some places. All right. 3/4 time and... "Marceline," he sang. "You fell into the toxic goo, but soon you'll feel brand new, because I'll tell you what we'll do, we'll--"

The was a whoomph and everything went up in flames. Gunter froze, then turned around. Marceline was twitching and writhing all over her bed. Her bed that was also on fire. "Er... I'll... I'll just leave you alone then."

He packed up his keyboards as quickly as he could, reabsorbed his clones, and ran outside. "Oh Gob, what was that?"

Simon came back down the corridor, with a bunch of bottles and containers in his arms.

Gunter ran up to him. "Simon! Simon! Can Marceline normally set things on fire?" Was it some sort of demon thing? Maybe? Was that it?

Simon stopped. "Huh? No, she doesn't have any demon powers. Just vampire powers. I don't think she has demon powers..."

Gunter took a closer look at what Simon was holding. "Why do you have lighter fluid and ammonia?" That was just going to make things worse! And things were already really bad.

Simon glanced down. "She asked me to get it. I guess she needs corrosive liquid to recover? And uh... radioactive stuff. Like she needed all that monster blood."

Gunter grabbed Simon's leg, multiplied, and grabbed his other leg, his head, his stomach, and his shoulders. "No, no, she doesn't need any of that, Simon! I think there's something seriously wrong with--"

Marceline came out the door, brushed away one of the clones' flippers, and took all the bottles. "Thanks."

She'd closed the door by the time Gunter had time to react. "What! Don't take-- No..."

Simon was beginning to look annoyed. He shook off Gunter's clones. "Gunter, what is the matter?"

"She set everything on fire!" said Gunter frantically. "She has demon powers now!"

Simon froze. "What?! Is she okay?"

"No!" said Gunter. "That's what I'm trying to tell you!" He threw open the door. "Look!"

The room was still smouldering, but Marceline was gone.

Simon stepped inside gingerly. "Maybe... Maybe it's just part of the healing process. Humans and penguins sneeze, half-demon vampires set everything on fire."

Gunter shook his head, then pointed at the bathroom door. "Look! She's in the bathroom!" He ran for it, but Simon held him back.

"Gunter! What are you doing? You can't spy on girls in the bathroom! I thought you knew that now!" He called through the keyhole. "Marceline? You okay in there?"

"I'm busy!"

Simon pulled back. "See? She's fine."

Gunter looked in the keyhole, and recoiled. "Simon..."

"Gunter, what are you doing?" said Simon. He tried to pull him away, so Gunter grew until his head scraped the ceiling.

"She..." Gunter tried to sort out what he'd seen. "She turned huge and she's got arms like spider legs and she's drinking something green out of the bathtub! It's like bathtub booze, but green! Look!"

Reluctantly, Simon put his eye to the keyhole, and gasped. "Holy glob!" He pushed ineffectually on the door, then got out his lockpicks.

"Hurry!" said Gunter. Maybe he could shrink through the keyhole and... No, Simon was using the keyhole.

Simon rotated the bendy pick thing, and shoved the door open to reveal Marceline holding up the bathtub and pouring the green liquid directly into her mouth. "Marceline!"

They ran at her, and Marceline hit them so hard everything went black.

 

Simon woke up uncomfortable. He was half leaning against a wall, his head ached, and someone was poking him. He opened his eyes to see Finn Ice staring down at him. "You!"

"Hey Simon," said Finn Ice. "I was thinking, if I saved Marceline from being possessed by the Lich, maybe she'll be so grateful she'll turn into a puppy again and live with me forever! I covered my entire castle in newspaper specially!"

"She's never gonna-- Did you say she was possessed by the Lich?" said Simon. That would explain a lot, actually. He just wished the information had come from someone less... entirely responsible for her current state. "How can you know that?"

He sat up and looked around. It looked like Marceline had hit them right through the wall and into the next room. Gunter seemed to be awake, but groggy.

Finn Ice pointed at his eyes. "Wizard eyes, duh! I saw something spirit-y from the Lich float right into Princess Puppydog! At least, I think that's what I saw... It's kind of hard to tell sometimes... Most of the time..." He sighed.

Wizard what? How many powers did this guy have? "Why didn't you say something before?" Simon demanded.

Finn Ice scowled. "I was about to, before you flew off the handle!"

"I didn't fly off--" began Simon, but Gunter put a hand on his arm.

"Let's deal with the Lich first," he suggested, pointing outside through a gaping hole in the palace wall.

Marceline was rampaging through the Monster Kingdom, pausing every so often to destroy a building or smack away unwary looters.

"Come on!" said Simon. He pulled out the sweater, and jumped on Gunter's back as Gunter grew huge.

Now that they knew it was the Lich, they knew how to deal with her. It.

When they got close enough, Simon waved the sweater and yelled "Marceline! You're like a big sister to me!"

Marceline glanced around, and smacked him off Gunter's back and all the way into the same wall as last time.

Simon sat up, dazed. "It didn't work this time..." Why didn't it work this time? Did the fact that the Lich was inhabiting Marceline's body cancel out the familial caring? No, that didn't make sense...

Gunter was still out there, but no matter how large he grew, he couldn't stand up to the Lich's blows. He was slowing it down, but only by a little.

Simon didn't want to have do this, but... He turned to Finn Ice, who was watching the carnage with interest, and said "Finn Ice, will you help us stop the Lich?" With his abilities, Finn Ice would be practically unstoppable if he wasn't an idiot. At the least he could at least freeze the Lich for them.

"Huh?" said Finn Ice. "No way! One of these days, Simon, you're gonna have to learn that what you do has consequence, and--"

Something in Simon snapped. "I didn't flipping do anything!" he yelled. "You're the one who kidnapped her, and you're the idiot who... who got the dropsies and nearly killed her, and now you won't even help? Do you want the Lich to destroy the world? Is that it? Do you want to die thinking up new ways to blame me for your mistakes?"

Simon ran out of words and subsided, his fists clenched.

Finn Ice actually looked frightened. He pressed himself against the far wall like he was trying to pass through it.

"Will you help or not?" Simon demanded.

Finn Ice looked at the floor and mumbled "Yeah. Okay. Okay."

He took Simon from the hand and lifted him effortlessly into the air, which was actually sort of fun. Not for the first time, Simon wondered about the source of Finn Ice's powers. He was an ice wizard, yet he needed his crown before he could do anything magical. Was it some kind of symbiosis thing? Or maybe one of those split soul situations?

Finn Ice quickly snapped back to his normal self. "Man Simon, you can get mad when you want to! You were all like-" he imitated Simon's voice poorly - "You pushed me too far. Prepare to be nerded. Flip is a curse word." He giggled.

Simon sighed and said "Listen. I have a plan. Throw me at the Lich, and I'll distract it while you freeze it from the legs up. Do you think you can remember that?"

In reply, Finn Ice heaved Simon at the Lich.

"WaitIwasn'tready!" Simon flew face first into Marceline's back and grabbed hold of her hair. "Gunter! Help me out here!"

Gunter shrunk down to his normal size, made a few copies of himself, and run up the Lich's arms. "Do you have a plan?" called the closest clone.

"Of course!" said Simon. He pointed at Finn Ice, who was just floating there watching them. "We're going with plan Emergency Oscar."

"Which one was that--" The Lich grabbed at them, and Gunter's clones scattered.

Simon grabbed some of Marceline's hair in both hands and swung over to her face. "Take... sorry Marcy... Take that!" he yelled, punching it in the eye.

The Lich roared and slapped at its face, nearly knocking Simon off. He managed to grab onto a finger, pulled himself up, ran to the back of its hand, and looked down. Finn Ice was still just... standing there. Watching. "Finn Ice! What are you waiting for? Do the ice thing!"

"Oh yeah!" said Finn Ice. He threw ice magic at the Lich's feet and yelled "Lions in the taiga! Lions in the taiga!"

Simon braced himself on the Lich's thumb and dug his feet into the soft part leading to its fingers, trying to keep it distracted. The Lich attempted to shake him off, and when Simon saw the ice approach its arms, he let go and flew halfway across the Monster Kingdom.

He land on a giant Gunter's stomach, and climbed onto his back as Gunter ran to see what had happened to the Lich. Gunter had very sensitive stomach feathers.

They found the Lich standing where they'd left it, completely immobilised by a thick layer of ice and surrounded by a crowd of onlookers seemed to have materialised out of thin air.

"You did it!" said Simon, putting a hand on Finn Ice's shoulder. Even though all he'd really done was clean up his own mess, it was still very impressive. Not many people could immobilise the Lich, especially almost single-handed.

"I did?" said Finn Ice. He looked at his hands, then at Simon. "This is some kind of prank, isn't it? There's camera hidden in your hair, isn't there?"

"What? No!" Simon felt his hair, which was getting a bit long. He guessed it would have been too much to ask for Finn Ice to both save everyone and make any sense.

He craned his neck at the frozen Lich. What now? Could they even help Marceline now that-- what was that creaking noise? It was Marceline. She was falling over! "Finn Ice, do something!" The ice would shatter if it hit the ground at that speed, and Simon didn't even want to think about what that would do to Marceline. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Gunter grow and race to catch her, but there was no way he could make it in time.

"Like what?" Finn Ice demanded.

"For the love of Grod you control ice!" Simon screamed. Why couldn't he just act normal? For once in his life?

"Oh yeah!" Finn Ice raised his hands, grunted with effort, and stopped her just before she hit the ground. "Ugh... she's really heavy... Do you think she'll be this big next time she turns into a dog? I'm gonna have to expand my castle." Despite his complaints, he pushed her back upright, and added more ice around her feet.

Simon stared at her until he was certain she wasn't going to fall again, then turned to the crowd. "Uh... now what?"

"Does anyone know how to exorcise avatars of destruction?" said Gunter.

They couldn't just leave her like this. It was possible, if they kept her in the Ice Kingdom, but it couldn't be the only solution.

"Perhaps I could be of assistance." Peppermint Butler emerged from the crowd. Simon thought maybe Bonnibel had made him or something? He didn't really know where candy people came from. They kind of creeped him out, to tell the truth.

 

They moved Marceline to an open courtyard while Finn Ice grumbled. He said she was too heavy to push so far, and he seemed to be telling the truth, so he hovered her a few inches off the ground while a few giant Gunters pushed.

They set her down, and Finn Ice made an audible sigh of relief. He was dripping with sweat.

"Stand back, please," said Peppermint Butler, producing a piece of chalk. He drew some kind of demonic symbol, sat down, and began chanting in a harsh language that Simon didn't recognise.

Simon waited until he'd finished, then said "What's that? Is it because she's a demon? Is it like, her native language or something?"

Peppermint Butler started. "Uh... sure." He clapped his hands, and there was a high, crystalline note. "Anyways, the Lich should be gone now. You can release her."

Simon looked at Finn Ice.

Finn Ice put his head on one side. "What are you looking at me for? Is... is it my beard? My beard is awesome!" He shot a bolt of ice at Simon.

Simon stepped out of the way and said "Did you see the Lich leave her body?"

"Uh, I wasn't paying attention," said Finn Ice. "I was thinking about what to have for dinner. It's Jake's turn to cook, and Jake never cooks." He frowned deeply.

Simon sighed again and said "Just get the ice off her." They were just going to have to trust Peppermint Butler's word.

The ice shrank away, and Marceline shrank as well. She collapsed onto her stomach.

Simon and Gunter ran to her, yelling her name.

"Are you okay?" said Simon.

"Are you awake?" Gunter added.

"Say something!" said Simon. If something had gone wrong...

Abruptly, Marceline shrunk even further, then stirred. "Huh?"

"Marceline..." said Simon. Her voice. It was off. She sounded... childish.

Marceline sat up. "That's weird."

"You're a little girl!" said Gunter. He reached out to touch her hair, then seemed to think better of it. "How old are you? One? Two?"

Marceline looked at her hands and said "Yeah, I'm a kid. I guess it was... uh... actually? I have no idea." The way she spoke didn't quite fit her little girl voice.

Simon hugged her and said "I'm just happy you're all right! You are all right, aren't you?" He made a mental note to look up cases of vampires or demons reverting to a younger age when he got the chance.

"Yeah, I think so," said Marceline. She gently touched her neck.

Simon looked at the area she'd touched. Something else seemed off, but for a few seconds, he couldn't figure out what it was. Then he saw. No bites. "You're not a vampire anymore!"

Marceline frowned. "Yeah."

Simon couldn't tell if she was disappointed or glad.

"I'm bored!" Finn Ice announced. "Hurry up and turn into a dog and come live with me!"

"I can't!" Marceline called. "I'm not a vampire anymore!"

Finn Ice's face fell. "You... can't?" Then he shrugged. "Whatevs." He flew away.

Simon watched him go, wondering what had happened to the Lich. Surely if they'd just unleashed it on some other poor creature Peppermint Butler would have said something. It probably couldn't survive long without a host. It was gone. The world was safe.

Chapter Text

The Year of the Dog
November

The far side of the portal opened into a dim, starry void, filled with floating rocks that looked like they'd come off the wall of a giant's castle. Not too far ahead, the Lich jumped from rock to rock towards a yellow cube, barely even slowed by the chain of Gunter clones clinging to its ankle.

Simon still couldn't believe he'd let the Lich trick them like that. He should have interpreted that dream better. He should have been more suspicious when it had refused to touch the crown gems. He should have thought. And now Billy was... he didn't know what Billy was. Maybe he was just possessed, but how had he ripped apart like that to reveal the Lich underneath? Magic? Was there any magic that even worked that way?

Gunter smacked into a rock, and his clones lost their grip and fell into the void.

"Gunter, quick!" said Simon, pointing at the Lich, which was already climbing into the yellow cube. "It's heading for Prismo's time room!" He was pretty sure that was what that thing was. He wondered what the Lich wanted with an almighty being, and none of the possibilities he came up with were good.

Gunter sat up, groggy from the pain of losing his clones. "Oh, right." He grew, scooped up Simon, and jumped from rock to rock, much faster than Simon could have on his own.

They arrived at the cube just in time to see the Lich laugh and disappear completely. The only thing inside was some sort of pink humanoid, which was confined to the walls and floor like a projection, or a shadow.

"Hey," said the projection, which Simon assumed was Prismo. "Hey! Did you guys see that? You know that was a ghost wearing a dead guy."

Simon sat on the ledge leading inside and put his head in his hands. A dead guy. The Lich was wearing a dead guy.

The dead guy was Billy. Billy was dead.

Prismo calling the Lich a ghost was interesting, but Billy was dead.

"That might be the nastiest thing I've ever seen," Prismo continued. He pointed his hands. "Na-na-na-na-nasty! Nasty jazz! Nasty--" He stopped abruptly, like someone had cut him off.

Simon looked around, but he couldn't see why Prismo had stopped. Nothing seemed to have changed.

And Billy was dead.

"Ooh, wait," said Prismo. "That was your friend Billy, wasn't it." He averted his eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean nothing by it. I mean, I have a lot of nasty friends. My uncle is nasty. I'm basically honorary nasty."

Simon jumped down to the floor of the cube. "How did you know that?" He was some sort of god, so maybe he was omniscient. But then why would he say something so insensitive in the first place? He was either a Magic Man-level trickster, or...

"Huh?" Prismo looked away again. "Uh. No reason. It's just... this thing I have. Don't worry about it."

According to Booko, the time room and Prismo were eternal and constant, but because of the theory of infinitely branching timelines, there were multiple iterations of the room layered on top of each other, so that everyone who entered didn't have to contend with every possible alternate version of themselves. But Prismo could see, and individually interact with, every timeline at once.

"I bet someone from another timeline told you!" said Simon. Despite the situation, it was still fascinating to speak to a being who existed on multiple planes at once.

"No... Actually, yes," said Prismo. He pointed at Simon. "There's this other human boy standing right where you are, and his... You know, I shouldn't be talking about it."

Gunter walked around the room and waved his arms around. "You mean to say that there's another version of us right here, on some other plane of reality?"

"Well..." said Prismo. He looked around. "I just granted his wish, so he's gone now. I mean, the human I was talking about."

"Wish?" said Simon. Prismo granted wishes? Just to anyone who walked in? Could that be why the Lich had been so determined to get here?

"See, that's just he said," said Prismo. "That right there is what they call circums... Circumstanti..." He frowned. "Oh, I can never remember how to say that."

That didn't explain anything. "What about the Lich? What did he wish for?" Simon was afraid to find out, but he had to ask.

"Oh yeah," said Prismo. "He wished for the extinction of all life and I did it. Guess it changed his timeline or something?"

"What?!" said Simon. "E-Extinction?!" That couldn't be possible. Everyone couldn't be dead when they'd all probably been alive a couple of minutes ago. Things didn't work like that. Adventuring didn't work like that.

Gunter felt his face, and said "We're not dead, are we Simon? I don't feel dead." He checked his pulse. "No. We're not."

Oh yeah. The two of them counted as life.

"Oh," said Prismo, "that's because you're still safe in my time room until you make your wish."

"Our wish..." said Simon. They could still fix this, if they were smart. "What did the other me wish for?"

Maybe they could get some help from this other timeline. He had a few ideas, but his head was still swimming from shock and lack of sleep. It sounded like the other him was a bit more level-headed, if he'd already made a wish.

"Huh?" said Prismo.

"You know, that other human you mentioned," said Gunter. "What was his wish?"

"Oh, him?" said Prismo. He hesitated. "He wished the Lich never even ever existed."

That was a good one. No Lich, no extinction of all life. And no dead Billy. Simon could see a couple of holes, though. The Lich had existed since at least the Mushroom War. Wishing it out of existence might have unforeseen effects on the timeline. Maybe it was better to wish for it to disappear just before it killed Billy. Or even right after they exorcised it from Marceline. Or before it escaped from the tar lake.

The Lich had done a lot of damage over the course of its existence, however long that had been. Eliminating it might be worth the change to the timeline. The fact that his double had settled on that wish in particular had to mean something. Maybe he knew something about time alteration that this Simon didn't.

"That's my wish, too," said Simon.

 

Simon didn't even have time to take enough breath before he began to disappear, just like the Lich. Gunter watched with his mouth open, until he was completely gone.

Gunter looked around frantically. "What just happened? Where'd Simon go?" All this disappearing was making him nervous. What was it about wishes that made people disappear?

The shadow guy didn't seem worried. The shadow of a mug fell down the wall from someplace, and into his hand. "Oh, when he wished for the Lich to have never existed--" He took a sip from the mug and it fell back up and out of sight-- "Simon left my time room and entered his wish altered reality. We can watch him on my TV wall."

A real, three-dimensional remote control materialised from a beam of light, and the shadow guy pressed a button, transforming an entire wall into a television.

"Ooh!" Gunter wanted a TV like that.

On the TV was Simon, lying on a bed and playing with a ball and paddle. The bed had the same leopard print cover as Simon's, but there were no animal pelts. Just a cover and white sheets. The floor was green and looked carpeted, not like the wood floor of their bedroom at home.

They watched for a few minutes. At one point, Simon missed with the paddle, muttered "Clamballs," and shook out his hand before hitting the ball back and forth again.

"So..." said Gunter eventually. "I uh, I didn't get your name."

"Oh, me?" said the shadow guy. "It's Prismo. I'm sorry, usually you get here, you already know who I am." He gave an embarrassed laugh.

"Ah, I can see that, I can see that," said Gunter. "I suppose you'd really have to try to get all the way out here. My name's Gunter. Gunter the Penguin. Goon-ter, Gun-ther, any pronunciation's good. Gon-ter..."

Prismo nodded. On the screen, Simon continued to play with the ball and paddle.

"He... He ever gonna stop with that thing?" said Gunter. He'd seen more interesting movies. Airplanes Taking Off was a more interesting movie.

"Not for like, twelve hours or something," said Prismo, after a second's thought. "Hang on a second, I'll fast forward to the interesting part." He pressed a couple of buttons on the remote, and the image sped up to a blur.

When it stopped, Simon was sitting in a horse drawn cart in a dry-looking landscape that Gunter didn't recognise, and he looked older. His waistcoat had sleeves on it. It was more like just... a coat. The formal kind. He was also wearing a scarf, but that was probably just because he was cold.

He still didn't have a beard.

There was a woman driving the cart who looked a lot like Betty, but she had legs and no gills, so it couldn't be her. She looked older too, so maybe it was just something that happened to mermaids that nobody knew about yet.

"How-- How far did you fast forward?" said Gunter, touching the screen.

Prismo shrugged. "Oh, I don't know. Five years... thirty years... something like that."

Either of those could be true for all Gunter knew. He was no good at judging the ages of humans.

 

The sun was going down by the time they arrived at the little town they'd be staying at. It got cold quickly out here in the wilderness, and Simon was glad he'd dressed warmly.

Betty put the reins of the horse into one hand, and yawned with the other. "Is this the place?" she said, looking ahead at the row of stalls, which were mostly empty at this time of day. "Are you sure it's even a town?"

Simon laughed. "Don't let any of the locals hear you say that." This area was dry and poor in soil, and had been sparsely populated ever since the world had thawed out. He was almost certain that they'd be the first to really examine the place.

There was a long haired man with a burn scar over one eye lounging against one of the stalls, watching a group of kids pack away a towering pile of spoons. He turned around as the cart approached, and grinned unpleasantly. "Outsiders!"

Simon kept his eyes on him. "Yes?" Nobody out here was that happy to see a stranger unless they wanted something from them. He wore a silly outfit that looked too small on him, but there was a very serious looking sword slung over his back. He was probably in a gang, but Simon had dealt with gangs before. As long as he didn't think they had any treasure on them, they'd be fine.

The man stared into Simon's face for an uncomfortably long time, then said "This is Destiny Gang turf. Mr and Mrs Noseless gotta pay the toll."

Simon covered his face self-consciously. "And what's the toll?" He knew gang logic. They couldn't just take every traveller's money and then kill them. It tended to upset the travellers' home countries, and provoke them into sending militia or mercenaries to wipe the gang out. Nobody cared enough to actually defend somewhere so isolated, and another gang would probably spring up in its place, but the original thugs would still be dead.

"You're not actually thinking of paying, are you?" said Betty, who'd never been this far from the city before.

"Toll is five flames. Pay up." The man held out his hand impatiently.

Simon reached into his coat pocket and counted out the coins. "It's cheaper than hiring a bodyguard," he told Betty. "And safer." He'd been in a couple of expeditions with bodyguards who'd decided to rob them on the way back. His partner at the time had been good with energy guns, which was lucky, because Simon was not much of a fighter himself. Betty was, but it was still safer to just pay the gangs.

"Yeah, give it here," said the man, snatching the coins from Simon's hand. He squinted at Simon again, then made a dismissive gesture and walked away.

When he was sure nobody was close by, Simon got out of the cab, unfolded a map, and oriented it to the north. If he was right, they should start looking about half a mile north north east from here. He got back in, pointed west and said "Let's make camp over that way." There was no need to tip anyone off, especially in gang territory.

Betty urged the horse on. "Do you usually have to pay people off? Is that what you do out here?"

"Uh... Yeah, sometimes," said Simon. "I told you it might be dangerous." He was glad she was there, though. He didn't like going on expeditions alone, and as she'd said, he'd been helping with so much of her research that it was only fair she help him with his.

He could still barely believe they were going to be married in a few months. It was the kind of thing that only happened to people who didn't wake up at their desks with pieces of partially translated printer paper stuck to their cheeks. He deserved one of those stereotypical nagging wives from stand-up routines, not someone like her.

They set up camp in a small clearing near a decrepit farmhouse. Betty checked the interior, but she said it was only inhabited by rats now. They couldn't stay inside, though. As outsiders, it would take months for the house to truly accept them, and they would not be here for months.

Later, as Simon transcribed an old novella and Betty drew detailed diagrams of the local flora in her notebook, Betty said "Do you feel like we're being watched?"

"Yeah, I do," said Simon, unconcerned. "It's probably just the gangs." He lowered his voice. "Don't tell them why we're really here, and everything will be... fine." Probably. There was always a bit of uncertainty.

Betty put the notebook down and leaned back, looking at the stars. There were more here than in the city, and Simon couldn't help associating it with the cold air. "Why are we really here, Simon?" she whispered. "All you ever say we're looking for is 'something' and 'it'."

"I do?" said Simon. It was hard to shake the habit of secrecy, even with his fiancee. He spoke as quietly as he could. "This area was a strike site in the Great Freezing War. It was supposed to be a new, special kind of bomb. All sources listed it as deployed, but there's no signs of a crater here." He indicated the area where the bomb should have landed, which was almost invisible in the dark. "Or any radiation." They hadn't brought a Geiger counter, but six hundred years of continuous habitation was a pretty good indicator that nothing had happened. "I think the bomb missed, but there must have been something up here." You didn't test your bombs on inhabited areas in foreign countries, and you didn't waste your special, one-of-a-kind bomb on boring stretches of farmland.

"Mmm." Betty sounded skeptical, but she'd never really acknowledged the importance of Simon's work. She was more interested in the way things were now, while Simon believed that the best way to understand the world was through the past. The ancients had had almost everything figured out, and if they could just recover that knowledge, there'd be no need to reinvent the fireplace.

For him, the way his career had started almost made it an obligation. As long as he could recover at least as much knowledge as he'd destroyed, he'd be happy.

 

They started out early the next morning. Simon began by mapping the contours of the hilly land, trying to find the lowest points, where the eroded signs of ancient civilisation would be most apparent. There didn't seem to be anyone around, but he didn't want to bring out the shovels during daylight hours if they could avoid it. If they didn't find anything by the afternoon, they'd have to risk it, for archaeology.

Betty was looking at the trees, obviously more interested in whatever they could tell her than finding the intended target of the strike. "Simon!" she called suddenly, from a stand of trees at the bottom of a hill. "I think you should see this!"

Simon ran over, and at first, he couldn't figure out what Betty wanted him to look at, until she pointed at the big space between the tree roots. "A cave..." There was probably something down there, unless it had already been picked clean by the locals.

"You first," said Betty, with a sweeping arm gesture.

Simon crawled between the roots, into a dim, cold cave that smelled of rot and sharpness.

Betty followed behind. "See anything?"

Simon waited for his eyes to adjust from the bright outdoor light. "Not yet..." There was something yellow, glinting in the light from the entrance. "Look!" He moved towards it cautiously.

"Stop..."

Simon hesitated and looked around, but he couldn't see the source of the voice, or if what he'd heard was a voice at all. He could just about see what the glint was coming from, though. There was a golden, jeweled crown, sitting on the head of a skeleton that had been caught under a large chunk of ice. The skeleton was wearing faded pre-freeze clothing, and was the size of a child or a young teenager. It wore a strange hat with two ear-like protusions sticking up from the top, which prevented Simon from judging its age at death through the fusion of its skull bones.

He didn't see the pink goo spread around the cavern floor until it squelched into a heap about as tall as he was. "Candy... Do you have any... candy?" Its voice had a tinny, bubbly quality, that made it sound like it was speaking through an ancient microphone from under a swamp.

Simon wasn't sure he'd heard it correctly. "Candy?" What was this thing? Some sort of pre-freeze relic, obviously, but he'd never heard of the ancients developing... pink goo golems or whatever.

"Candy!" the figure repeated. "I need sugar to metabolise... to metabolise my..." Talking was obviously an effort for it. It didn't even seem to have a mouth.

Betty tossed it a wrapped square of toffee. "Here."

Lucky for them that Betty had a sweet tooth. Whatever this thing was, it blew apart his wildest expectations. It represented potential lifetimes of research, and might even repay his debt to humankind all on its own.

They couldn't get too excited yet. Something could still go wrong.

The toffee landed on top of the goo heap and sank down, out of sight. After a second, the heap rippled violently, and differentiated into a more humanoid form, with a defined head, torso and limbs.

It had a flap of hair hanging down from the back of its head, and a distinct bump on its chest. It was probably supposed to be a woman, Simon thought. It was still hard to tell.

"Listen," said the pink, gooey woman, in a somewhat clearer voice. "Thanks for the candy, but you've got to leave, now. This place is... dangerous."

It was some sort of guard, then, that didn't know what had happened since its activation. From a financial standpoint, the most valuable thing in here seemed to be the crown, so that was probably what it was guarding. It looked like an ordinary crown, from very early in European history. It wasn't unknown for European items to end up on another continent like this, but why was a skeleton from just before the freeze wearing it? Maybe it was just a prop, or a costume? He bent over the skeleton to examine it more closely.

"Aren't you listening to me?" said the woman, so forcefully that Simon jerked back. "I said it's dangerous!"

"What are you?" said Betty. Simon could tell that she wanted to touch the woman and see what she was made of, but she held back.

The poorly defined lines on the woman's face shifted until she almost looked confused. "I... I don't remember." She shook her head violently. "That's not important. I remember what happened here."

Simon could almost feel his eyes light up. A skeleton from the Freezing War trapped under a chunk of ice, wearing what looked like a much older crown. There had to be an interesting story there. "Okay, what happened here?"

The woman indicated the skeleton. "This is..." She frowned. "He's... His name is... Finn. Finn Mertens. A thousand years ago, he saved the world from... that." She pointed at the ice.

"From ice?" said Simon. That was the opposite of what had happened.

"Simon, that's a bomb, said Betty impatiently. "It's just covered with ice."

Simon looked at it with his head on his side. Now that she mentioned it... "Oh yeah, you're right! It must have frozen in the Freezing War." Most of the ice had gone back to pre-freeze levels centuries ago, but there were still scattered pockets of frost around.

"Not... exactly," said the woman. "If that bomb had exploded, it would have destroyed the entire world. Finn had been cursed with the power to control ice and snow, so he set out to freeze it before it hit the ground."

"Control ice and snow?" said Betty, frowning at the skeleton.

"You mean, by magic?" said Simon. The story was obviously some sort of myth, probably one that the woman had created herself to explain the things in this cavern, but most myths had a kernel of truth to them.

"No, just through cryokinesis," said the woman, looking at him like he was the crazy one. "I said he was cursed because the power was janking up his brain. He succeeded in freezing the bomb, but... you can see what happened."

"He got trapped underneath," said Betty.

"Yeah," said the woman. She rubbed the crown gingerly. "The crown was really attached to Finn, mentally and emotionally. When he died, it unleashed so much cryogenic power that the whole earth got covered in ice for four hundred years."

Interesting. Simon wondered how close it was to the truth. Was the skeleton even of this Finn person, or did the name have other significance?

"That's how you think it happened?" said Betty. She had a lot of talents, but tact was not among them.

"It's the truth!" the woman insisted. "How do you think the world got covered in ice?"

"Well there's a lot of theories," said Simon, counting off on his fingers. "Changes in the planet's orbit, some kind of secret superweapon, reverse greenhouse gasses..." Those were the three most commonly accepted theories. He liked the greenhouse gas the one the most, because it was tidy. The planet had been getting hotter, so people had tried desperately to cool it back down, and succeeded too well. It made sense, and fit in with what was known of the politics of the time.

"Yes, it was a secret superweapon!" said the woman in exasperation. "The crown!"

She obviously believed what she was saying. They'd need to do some careful questioning to get the real truth. "Betty," said Simon. "This is big! We gotta get back and get an expedition together so we can study this place."

Betty nodded. "And hire some guards." She looked at the woman. "Do you want to come back with us? We could get you more candy."

"Thanks for offering, but no," the woman replied. "I have to stay here and guard this place, and you have to go home and never come back. I just got done telling you about how this crown nearly destroyed the world!"

The crown. Simon looked down at it, gleaming on the skeleton's head. They wouldn't have any trouble drumming up interest if they showed that off. And the longer they left it, the higher the chance that someone else would come along and take it, especially if they'd been seen entering the cave. Simon leaned over the skeleton and reached down.

"What did I just say?" the woman exploded. "Have you been listening to a word I've been saying? What did you say your name was? Simon?"

Simon picked the crown up, inspecting the skeleton's mouth as he did. It was missing a lot of teeth, but its wisdom teeth were still high above the gum line. So, a child or a teenager. "I know you think it's got magical powers, but we need to take this thing back to the city with us." The crown was surprisingly cold, even compared to the rest of the cave. It must have been closer to the ice than it looked.

"Put that down," said the woman, in a failed attempt to sound threatening. Her voice was just too distorted and weak.

"I'm sorry," said Simon. He put the crown in his bag so they wouldn't attract thieves on the way home.

"Yeah," said the woman. "I'm sorry too." She pulled an old, 3rd century gun from behind the frozen bomb. "I'm gonna count to three, and if you don't put down--"

Betty tackled her and wrestled the gun away. "Give me that!"

"You... You tried to..." Simon took a deep breath. She'd seemed so harmless and eccentric. She was still a guard, he reminded himself. Guards had to use force sometimes. Especially when they truly believed that the world would end if they didn't.

The woman picked herself up off the ground. Interestingly, she was so soft that the force of Betty's tackle had actually deformed her a bit. "Fine. Take the crown. Destroy the world all over again. But don't say I didn't warn you!"

"Let's get out of here," said Betty. She inspected the gun closely, pulled the trigger a couple of times, then dropped it. "This thing doesn't even work."

They crawled back out of the hole. There was just enough time to get back to the city before sundown, if they hurried.

 

The woman watched the two humans crawl out of the small opening that she really should have got around to filling, then sat next to the skeleton. "Sorry, Finn," she told it. "I couldn't stop them from taking the crown."

"You can't let them have it," said Finn.

The woman sighed. "Finn, quit talking. You're dead. This isn't real."

"Yeah, but you still have to stop them," said Finn. Without the crown, his head looked bald and incomplete. "You promised when the world froze over, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember," said the woman softly. All her important memories were still with her. "It's nice to talk to you again, Finn."

"Oh, in that case," said Finn. He put on a spooky voice. "Oooo... Get the croooown... Get the croooooooooown... Get it back from those guuuuuuuys..."

"If I do it, will you quit talking that?" said the woman. She might be crazy enough to think a dead boy was talking to her, but she wasn't stupid. She knew what he was doing. What her brain pretended he was doing.

Finn lay on the ground and said nothing.

 

As they walked back to the camp, Simon imagined that he could feel the cold of the crown seeping through the bag, into his skin. He could definitely feel its weight. He'd handled gold a few times in the past, but the weight never stopped surprising him.

"Do you think--" Betty began.

Simon put a finger to his lips and mouthed "later". Once they were back on the road. He hoped the horse they'd hired could go faster than a trot. Rental horses were often not well treated.

Someone grabbed his ankles from behind, and he went down. "What--?" He tried to push himself up, to the sound of yells and running footsteps.

"You again?" said Betty.

Something hit Simon hard in the back of the head, and he slid face first over a rock, pulling off his glasses.

"Simon!" said Betty, over the thumps and groans of a fistfight.

Betty sounded like she had her hands full. Simon tried to get up to a kneeling position, and felt something crack under his foot.

"Oh... butt." It was his glasses. He put them on anyway -- the right lense was still okay -- and stood, tensing up for another attack.

The first thing he saw was Betty fighting a group of thugs in tacky clothing, including the one from the day before.

"Betty!" Simon ran forwards, and something hit him in the back, nearly knocking him down again. At first he thought someone had kicked him, until he recognised the tingle of a low level energy projectile.

Energy guns were hard to get out here. He turned.

"Morning," said his old partner, keeping his weapon trained on him. He looked a bit older than Simon remembered, but he still had that white coat and hat he always wore. His eyes hadn't changed, either.

"O'Malley," said Simon. He didn't move.

"O'Malley...?" said Betty. She seemed to have stopped fighting, but Simon didn't want to turn around to check. "Isn't he that... Didn't he go to jail?"

That was what Simon had thought as well.

O'Malley signaled the thugs, and said "Thing about jail is, eventually you get out of jail."

"Why are you talking like that?" said Simon. Like that was the most surprising thing that had happened today. He sounded like he was mimicking the way people spoke up here, but for all Simon knew, the eastern accent he'd had when he knew him was the fake one.

The poorly dressed thugs walked Betty into Simon's view. Simon couldn't tell if she'd lost, or just pretended to lose, but she looked all right. She didn't have any visible cuts or bruises on her, which was more than he could say for the man wearing a domino mask and what looked like an off the shoulder dress.

"Come to make more money off Simon's hard work?" said Betty, looking at O'Malley with an anger that Simon rarely saw from her. He'd never realised how strongly she felt about this. He'd caught onto O'Malley's scheme years before they'd even met.

"Sure, if he agree," said O'Malley, without taking his eyes off Simon. "For starters, he can hand over whatever he found in that hole. You know, show of good faith."

Oh. He'd seen that. "W-We didn't find anything," said Simon. "I thought there was something here, but I was mistaken. We were going home." He was so much better at lying by omission than just lying. Even to someone who'd lied to him so often and so easily.

The man with the burn scar snorted derisively.

"I never thought I would see the great Simon Petrikov wrong about anything," said O'Malley. "Mind if we look inside your bag?" He flashed a disarming smile, as though they really were just having a friendly talk.

Simon took a bit too long to come up with an answer. He wasn't a criminal, and he didn't know how to begin calculating the monetary value of the crown. But gold was always worth a lot.

"What?" said O'Malley. "We won't murder you for it," he added with a chuckle. "Why kill the goose that lays the golden eggs? Remember that?"

Simon did. They'd found an only slightly water damaged library once, and that story had been in the first book he'd opened. It was also one of the few books from that library that still existed, because he'd decided to take it home with him. He'd never really understood logistics, so he'd usually left the large-scale transportation to O'Malley.

"Do you remember the bird catcher and the viper?" muttered Betty.

"Quiet!" O'Malley snapped, his mask falling for a second. "I'm ta-- I talk to your boyfriend. Butt out." He turned back to Simon. "How would you like to work together again? I take care of business side, and you do your research, just like old times. I bet whatever you have in that bag will pay the finder's fee, easy."

Simon looked over at Betty. Of course there was no way he was willingly going to set humanity back any further than he had already, but there was something wrong. O'Malley was too confident. He was always like that, but he wouldn't go to these lengths just to bluff without something up his sleeve.

"No?" said O'Malley. "Okay." He glanced at the thugs.

The man with the burn scar unslung his sword, but he didn't point it at Simon. He pointed it in the opposite direction, at Betty.

He really thought he could take her hostage? Simon began to think that maybe they'd get out of this.

Betty broke out of the men's grip and kicked backwards. "I've had enough of this!" She elbowed the man with the burn scar in the stomach and yanked the sword from his hand, before transferring her attention to the man in the domino mask, who'd taken a large hammer off his back.

Simon noticed O'Malley lining up a shot, and yelled "Betty, look out!"

Betty threw herself to the ground, and the shot went over her head, narrowly missing the thug in the domino mask. "Simon! Try to get that gun off him!"

That was easier said than done. Simon turned to face O'Malley, and O'Malley shot him in the stomach. Simon doubled over in pain, his eyes filled with tears.

"Simon!"

Simon couldn't see through the tears, but he recognised the voice. It was the pink, gooey woman from the cave.

"Uh..." The woman sounded confused. "Simon, I hope you still have the crown, because you need to put it back. Now."

"Crown, huh?" said O'Malley.

The vague shapes in front of Simon resolved into the sight of O'Malley holding his pistol to the pink woman's temple. "No!" Energy weapons became unreliable at high power, but seeing what Betty's tackle had done to her, even middling power would be enough.

"I don't know who you are, lady, but I bet you have lots of stories to tell, that nobody else will ever know. It would be a real blow to the sum total of human knowledge if you died right now."

"Don't..." Simon took the crown out his bag. It still felt cold, and he wondered if he was imagining it. How well did gold absorb heat, anyway? Betty probably knew.

He had to give up the crown. Betty could take care of herself, but unless he did something, the woman would definitely die. The thought of anyone dying because of him made him shudder, unique knowledge or no unique knowledge.

And it was just one artifact. It wasn't like he was actually agreeing to help O'Malley annihilate every trace of the pre-freeze world.

Except he was. He'd give away any amount of ancient treasures to save a life, especially a life like the strange goo woman's.

But what else could he do? He took a step forwards, then hesitated. The woman had claimed that the crown was a superweapon, and obviously that was an exaggeration, but it was strange that it had ended up on the head of a skeleton trapped under a bomb. Maybe there was some power to it. It was a stupid idea, but he didn't have any good ones left.

Most myths had a kernel of truth to them.

He held the crown above his head.

 

For a second, the pink woman thought Simon was going to give the crown to the white-clothed man holding her at gunpoint, but it was even worse than that. He lowered it onto himself.

"No!" yelled the woman, too late. "Stop!"

The crown touched Simon's head, and he began to scream. He collapsed to the ground, and coughed up what looked like snow, or possibly some sort of semi-frozen bodily fluid.

Despite what was happening, the woman was fascinated. So this was what happened when a human put the crown on for the first time. She'd asked Finn a couple of times, but he'd never been able to remember. If only she had... If she... What did she wish she had? Was this the kind of thing she was into? What was she?

"What in the junk...?" The man in the white coat lowered his gun and walked over to where Simon was lying. He knelt down, and reached for the crown.

Simon jerked backwards and into the air, his hair flapping like wings. "You!" he screamed, shooting ice from his hands. The man barely had time to stand up before he was frozen.

Betty glanced around. "Simon?" she said, as she pulled one of the other men to the ground by the hair. "What are you...?

Simon rotated to face her and shot more ice in her direction, freezing two of the men, and barely missing the third.

Wisely, the third man ran.

"Hey, I'm not done with you!" Simon yelled. "Come back here!" He created a frozen lightning bolt and flung it at the man. He missed, but the ground shook with the impact. He threw another one.

He reminded the woman more of Finn with each passing second.

"Finn!" she said aloud. The third thug was running right towards the cavern. She didn't think she had the energy to dig Finn out if the cavern collapsed, without at least enough candy to remember her name. "Be careful!" she called.

Simon didn't seem to hear.

The woman began to run, putting the last of her energy into moving as fast as she could, even as her legs began to melt and lose definition.

"Hey-- wait!" Betty chased her. "What's happening? What's wrong with Simon? He's just messing around, right?"

The woman tried to answer, but her tongue had melded with the roof of her mouth. What kind of a stupid question was that? She'd seen him put the crown on. What did she think was wrong with him?

She reached the cavern and dove inside. Finn was still okay. Apart from being dead and a skeleton and missing the crown. He wasn't buried. Yet.

Betty crawled in and said "Wait! You have to tell me how to help Simon!"

The woman managed to unstick her tongue. "If I knew that, Finn wouldn't be stuck under that bomb," she snapped. Everything would have been fine if these two hadn't shown up and brought all their outside world problems with them.

The whole cavern rumbled from the impact of another lightning bolt, and a crack formed in the ice encasing the bomb.

"That... That bomb's dead, right?" said Betty nervously.

The woman shrugged. "I never got the chance to do any tests on it." She'd never had both enough sugar to function and the equipment to conduct any serious experiments. She didn't even know how long a normal atomic warhead lasted, and the bomb was unique.

Betty backed towards the exit. "Maybe we should--"

Another impact shook the cavern.

 

Gunter was jerked out of sleep by a loud explosion. "Argh! What?"

On the screen, Simon was wearing Finn-Ice's crown and hovering in the sky. Behind him, a horrible green mushroom cloud spread across the sky. Simon looked around, saw the cloud, and said "Oh Grob!"

He dove at the ground, and a thick, protective layer of ice formed around his body.

"What is this?" said Gunter. "This wasn't happening when I went to sleep!"

"It's your friend's wish," said Prismo. "Wait. You were asleep?"

"I... I was tired!" said Gunter. "I'm running on two hours of sleep here!" They'd spent most of the night collecting gems for Billy. For the Lich. Tricking them and wearing Billy's skin as a coat was horrible enough, but depriving him of a full night's sleep was salt on their wounds. "I'm fairly certain that Simon didn't wish to become the prince of ice and re-enact the Great Mushroom War!"

"Well... no, he didn't," said Prismo. "We're seeing the consequences of his wish. Sometimes this is what just happens."

"Ooh," said Gunter. As long as there was no Lich and never had been, it was still in the bounds of what Simon had asked for. "Maybe a king?" he said to himself. "S-- He looks old enough to be a king..." He wasn't sure what the distinction was. Marceline had a kingdom, and she was a queen, but so did Finn-Ice, and he was just a prince. It was confusing. Did it depend on the amount of thinking subjects, maybe?

On the screen, Simon broke open the ice and surveyed the area. He was breathing hard, and there was something crazed about his expression.

"But you know..." said Prismo. "You get a wish too."

"I do?" said Gunter. Oh yeah! He did! This was so exciting. All life wasn't extinct, and he got a wish of his own! "Then I wish for... yeah, I wish for a smoothie." He was getting hungry. Last night's dinner seemed like weeks ago.

"A smoothie?" repeated Prismo. "You're gonna waste your one wish on a smoothie?"

"Yeah, with a little honey, and banana, oh, and some fish, of course," said Gunter. He was easy to please. He could have wished for something like a good life fo his unhatched chicks, or the ability to fly, but he didn't want to accidentally make any more bombs go off. Simon was literally a genius, if they could believe the IQ test they'd dug up a few years ago, and his wish had still got him insanity and explosions.

"You don't want anything else...?" said Prismo, looking at the screen.

Gunter looked at the screen too. Simon was sitting with his head in his hands. He was still wearing the crown. "Yeah, just a smoothie." Or maybe two, but he didn't want to get greedy.

"Dude," said Prismo. "I'll just make you a smoothie. You should use your wish on something important."

"What's not important about smoothies?" said Gunter. He could just taste that refreshing, fishy taste already.

Prismo looked at the screen again, and when Gunter didn't say anything, added "You know. On someone who might need it...?"

Gunter couldn't think of anyone who needed it. Maybe he could wish for peace on Uuu, but then they wouldn't have any more adventures.

"I'm talking about him!" Prismo burst out. He pointed at Simon. "Over there."

"Oh," said Gunter softly.

 

Simon returned to the town. He couldn't think of anywhere else to go. He could barely think at all. People were going to be upset about the bomb exploding their nice farmland. Maybe nobody had noticed yet. He could blame it on... someone. Not him. Whoever had put the bomb there in the first place. It was an obvious occupational health and safety hazard. Didn't anyone read ancient corporate pamphlets anymore?

He'd started seeing visions as soon as he'd put the crown on, and they hadn't gone away. They were everywhere. He charged up some ice and shot at a cluster of strange, multicoloured... things. "Leave me alone!" he yelled. Something slimy-looking climbed up his leg, though he couldn't feel it. He shook it off. "Go! Go, get outta here!"

The town looked a bit different to the way it had earlier in the day. He thought. He could barely remember. He didn't think all the trailers and stalls had been flat like that before. The whole thing had definitely been a lot more... intact.

He walked through a tall blue creature that resembled a stick with four legs jutting out of the bottom. He barely noticed.

"You're not real," he whispered at the town. It was the crown. It was fogging up his mind and making him see things that weren't real, like monsters and bombs and ruined towns.

He reached up, hesitated, and took it off.

At first there was no change, but then the monsters disappeared, and his mind came back into focus. He waited for the town and the sky to go back to normal, but it didn't.

He peeked into the nearest trailer, which was easy because the near wall was blown in, and stumbled backwards, barely preventing himself from throwing up. The people in there were already dead, he hoped.

The monsters weren't real, but the bomb was. It definitely was. It was real and he'd set it off. What had he even been trying to do? The memory was already fading, like a horrible dream.

Simon held the crown in his hands, and wondered if its mind dampening effects would work on what he'd seen in the trailer. He also wondered if he could survive without wearing it. He felt like it was telling that he couldn't, like it was whispering to him just below his hearing.

He held it up to his ear, then put it back on, and forgot what he was doing.

 

Prismo hit the mute button, and said "Looks like your friend's having a pretty rough time."

Gunter took a sip of the smoothie Prismo had made him. "Yeah, but he'll get out of it." He always did. "Any world's better than one with the Lich. And look at him! He's all grown up. He'll be fine, I can tell you that." He took another sip. "Hey. There fresh anchovies in this?" They tasted different to the canned ones.

Prismo laughed nervously. "I've never made a fish smoothie before. I figured, penguins, anchovies..."

"No, it's okay," said Gunter. "I love it. It's really hard to get anchovies where I live, the water's too cold for them. I mean, yeah, you could hike down to the south and catch them by the bucketload, but it's not very convenient, having to go through the Desert of Doom... You're a good host, Prismo. It can't be easy, with people coming in asking for wishes at all hours..."

"Actually it doesn't happen very often," said Prismo. "I mean, in your world, you have to... what? Find all nine gems of power, and the Enchiridion... sounds like a hassle."

"Yeah yeah, but didn't you say there was another human boy in here at the same time as me and Simon?" said Gunter. If the timelines were infinite, and every possibility was happening at the same time the way Simon kept telling him, he didn't see how Prismo ever got any rest.

Prismo avoided his eyes. "Oh, there were a lot of human teenagers in here. But they're all gone now."

"You're not telling me something," said Gunter, jabbing a flipper at Prismo. "They all brought their brothers with them too, didn't they?" Simon had said that the human boy who'd told Prismo about Billy was another version of him, so it stood to reason that he'd come in with another Gunter. Prismo hadn't said anything about how many penguins were in the room.

"And sisters," said Prismo. He counted on his fingers. "Cats, dogs, rats, flames, polar bears... You know. The works."

"And you're hosting all of them in your time room," said Gunter. "Impressive, very impressive. I couldn't do it." Especially not if Simon was home. They kept away from the Fire Kingdom for a reason. The others he could probably handle, as long as they alerted him to any special dietary requirements beforehand.

"Listen, Gunter, thanks for being cool about this," said Prismo. "Most singular beings are weirded out when they find out about it all. It's like--" He put on a high pitched voice "--'you're talking to how many other people? Are you even paying attention to me? I'm out of here.' You know, it's not really easy to meet many people in my line of work."

Gunter gulped down more smoothie. "Well, it's not like you can help it, is it? If they wanted to talk to you alone, they shouldn't have shown up at the same time as a thousand other blokes."

Prismo nodded thoughtfully.

 

Simon remembered the dead people ten minutes later, as he floated around trying to freeze as many of the green clouds as he could. He also remembered the thugs he'd frozen. No, the thugs he'd preserved. They were still alive, the crown could tell. So was that other guy. P... His name had started with P. Or maybe some other letter. They'd had some sort of quarrel, but whatever it had been, it didn't matter anymore. Nothing did.

He found the two thugs, frozen in running positions, and sat on the chunk of ice, trying to think how to free them. He could blow it up, but that would kill them. He had to get them out in some way that wouldn't render preserving them pointless.

He picked a rock up from the ground, and hacked at the ice with it until the man with the burn scar fell out. He left his head for last, so that he wasn't squirm or make Simon injure him. Simon was a conservationist. He'd seen that word in a couple of old books. Conservationist. It sounded good on him.

Simon smashed the ice encasing the man's head. "Hey! You! Get out of here, quick! No one can survive out here!" Except him, but he had the crown.

Burn scar frowned at him. "You're that treasure hunter from the city! You did this!" He looked around and saw the other thug, still frozen. He grabbed the rock off Simon and used to expertly crack the ice. "Trami! Let's get out of here! We gotta tell the boss about this!"

"Huh?" said the man in the domino mask. He looked around. "What happened? Tromo, get me out of this!"

Tromo tugged him out of the ice, and they ran away as fast as they could.

"Yeah, that's right!" said Simon. "Get outta here!" They'd be okay, he hoped. Gang life was already about as hard as end-of-the-world life.

He found the ice containing O'Malley a few feet away. There was something very satisfying about his shocked expression, but Simon couldn't remember what it was.

Remembering how Tromo or Trami had used the rock, he formed a giant chunk of ice out of the air, and brought it down on the ice on the ground. The crown assured him that it would work, unless it was just the echoes of the thoughts he didn't remember having. He couldn't tell anymore.

The ice cracked from top to bottom, and fell into two almost equal halves, with O'Malley at the centre. He stirred. "Huh? What did you do this time?"

"Do? I just saved you! I protected you from the bomb!" Simon gestured at the area where the bomb had been. "And I got you out of the ice."

O'Malley narrowed his eyes for a second, then said. "If I remember right, you're the one who froze me in the first place. In fact, I bet you're the one who set that bomb off. You did, didn't you?"

"I... I don't know," Simon admitted. He grabbed his head. "Why can't I remember?!" He didn't want to destroy the world. He just wanted to... freeze it.

O'Malley shook his head solemnly. "I always figured something like this would happen. You always knew how to make things worse. If you'd just handed over the crown like I told you, none of this would have happened. What did you think you were going to do with it?"

He was right, but he was wrong, and Simon couldn't remember why. He didn't want to think about this now. He wanted to preserve everyone. In ice. He should freeze everything, in case there were more bombs. The crown agreed. But then there'd be no one to talk to. Except for the crown and the visions.

Maybe eternal loneliness would be worth it, if nobody would steal and smash and melt down anything ever again. Everything would just exist, forever. The way it should.

He had to freeze the world.

"You're not even listening to me, are you?" said O'Malley. "That's okay. I'd be torn up too if I'd killed my girlfriend."

"Girlfriend?" repeated Simon blankly. That sounded vaguely familiar. "Betty!" His fiancee! How could he have forgotten? His last memory of her was her running away. Not from him. She was following that pink woman. Following her towards the bomb.

But she wasn't dead. He couldn't accept that. She'd found shelter, and she was fine. He just had to find her.

"It's okay, don't worry," said O'Malley soothingly. Simon glanced around sharply. He'd forgotten that he was there. "You can still make it right. Just give me that crown like you should have done in the first place. Then..." He looked searchingly into Simon's eyes. "Then the bomb won't have exploded, you see?"

Simon put both hands on the crown. "My... crown?" he said. Everything would go back to normal? If he just undid his mistake? That was what he wanted more than anything.

No. It wasn't. He wanted to preserve the world, and for that he needed his crown. He was the only one he could trust to do this right.

But first he had to find Betty.

He ran towards the bomb site, barely hearing the yells from behind.

 

Gunter relaxed in the warm water of the spa. "Couldn't you just put the TV on the opposite side of the bed?" he suggested. "Then you can watch TV it getting up." He wasn't completely sure where this bedroom Prismo was talking about was. He lived in a single room cube. It was probably in one of those many alternate dimensions.

"What, and ruin the feng shui?" said Prismo. "You don't even wanna know how bad my luck's been lately. It's the equivalent of walking under thirteen ladders."

"Hm..." Gunter put a flipper to his beak. Feng shui was fake, but he didn't want to bring that up an almighty wish-granting being from outside time. "T... TV ceiling?"

Prismo looked up. "That could work. I'll get a quote from--"

"Hello, hello!"

Gunter looked up to see the Cosmic Owl of all people enter the room, holding a couple of board games under one wing.

"Hey, so I brought over the--" the Cosmic Owl noticed Gunter, and gasped. "What is this singular doing in this realm?"

Gunter pulled at a stomach feather to make sure he wasn't having a very long, prophetic dream. It hurt, so it seemed that he was awake this time.

"He's just here making a wish, Cosmic Owl," said Prismo.

Oh yeah, that was what he was there for. Gunter had nearly forgotten. He glanced at the screen, but Simon was just running towards something. He was still wearing the crown, though. Gunter wished he'd take it off. Did he want to lose his mind and start kidnapping dogs? Or... books, maybe? Whatever thing tragically ran away when he first put it on.

"But I brought games!" said the Comic Owl. He sounded disappointed. "We were gonna hang..."

"After," said Prismo firmly. "Come on, get in here."

"Okay." The Cosmic Owl flapped down to join them in the hot tub.

Gunter held out a flipper, and said "Er, hello. I'm--"

"Gunter the Penguin," said the Cosmic Owl, gripping it with it with his wing and shaking it. "I know who you are."

"Cosmic Owl knows everyone," said Prismo. "It's like, his job."

Gunter thought about all the people in all the alternate versions of this room. "That's a lot of people," he said.

"Yeah," said Prismo, taking another sip from his mug. His projection was under the water, but it didn't seem to bother him, or affect whatever was in the mug. "Me, I can't even keep track of my ex-girlfriends. Cosmic Owl is a social genius."

"Oh, stop it, guys," said the Cosmic Owl, putting his head in his wing. He turned away and pretended to be fascinated by the floor. "Hey, did you know you left the remote down here?" He tried to pick it up, but he just flipped it over. "Oops." He fumbled it with both wings until he finally lifted it above the hot tub. "Got it."

"No... No, not again..."

The voice was so hoarse that Gunter almost didn't recognise it as Simon's. He looked around at the screen to see the volume up and Simon still wearing the crown. Simon was kneeling at the edge of a bubbling green pool that reminded Gunter of the Lich's well of power, trying to pull out the human woman who looked like Betty. Further from the edge, something pink slowly sank under the surface.

"Simon?" said Gunter.

"I'm sorry, Gunter," said Simon. He pulled Betty out of the liquid, sobbing. "This is the only way to protect everything."

"Me?" said Gunter, looking around. He couldn't see anyone else in the frame, penguin or otherwise.

If Betty was a human in the wish world, did that mean he was as well?

Simon held Betty close. "It's okay. It... It's okay. I'll just go freeze the world, and..." He gave a laugh that Gunter had never heard from him before. "And we can live forever! We'll live in a big castle made of ice, and... and... I'll the be king, and you'll be the princess. Sounds great, right?" Gunter could hear a bit of Finn-Ice in the way Simon spoke, and it scared him.

Betty began to stir. "Simon...? Is that you?"

Simon didn't seem to notice that she'd woken up. He hugged her harder.

"Simon, what happened?" said Betty. "What--" Suddenly she growled and pushed him away.

Simon fell back. "Gunter!"

"I'm here!" said Gunter. He climbed out of the tub and pressed himself against the screen. "Simon, I'm right here!"

Betty struggled to stand up, then gave up and crawled. Her eyes looked different, somehow. Had they been that unsettling shade of green earlier in the wish? He'd thought he'd seen eyes like that before, but it wasn't on Betty. Where was it?

"K... Keep away from me, Gunter," said Simon, backing away. "Don't come any closer! I command you!"

"Are you talking to Betty?" said Gunter. "I'm Gunter! She's Betty! Remember?" Of course Simon couldn't hear him.

Betty stood up unsteadily, and suddenly she was huge and her head was the Lich's head and Simon was flying into the air with ice magic around his hands and the picture cut out into static.

Prismo slid over the wall of the tub. "Maybe now you'd like to use your wish?"

Gunter nodded frantically. "Yeah, yeah yeah! I wish Simon was okay and Betty wasn't the Lich and Simon wasn't Finn-Ice and--"

"Wait!" Prismo interrupted. "Dude, look, I like you, so you should know my wishes always got an ironic twist to them. It's like a Monkey's Paw kind of thing."

"Monkey's Paw?" said Gunter. What did monkeys have to do with anything?

"You just gotta be really specific," continued Prismo. "Say your wish is 'I wish for a backrub.' Who's gonna give it to you? A dirty man? A bear?"

Gunter didn't see the problem. Bears gave great backrubs, as long as you were their size.

"And where does this masseuse come from?" Prismo continued. "Do I zap some guy away from his family dinner? Leave some kid traumatised?"

Gunter couldn't see an upside to that one. He twiddled his flippers, and the Cosmic Owl hooted softly.

Prismo put on some voices. "'Mom, where did dad go?' 'I don't know, son, he just disappeared from the table. Sorry.'"

Gunter tried to imagine being responsible for something like that. Then he tried to imagine Simon's wish resulting in something like that, and hoped that if it had, Simon never found out. It would probably destroy the poor kid.

"You see, Gunter, there's rules to this stuff," Prismo sounded upset himself now. "Wishing an event to be changes elements before and after it, memories will be destroyed, babies will not be born, potential worlds could be evaporated by. Your. Wish."

And Gunter had to decide all that? Sometimes he didn't even think he was ready for parenthood. He had to get out of there. He looked up at the exit and tried tp calculate how many clones he'd need to get up there.

He looked back at the static on the screen, and wondered if Simon was even still alive.

He wasn't thinking straight. He couldn't just abandon his best friend. "Okay," he said. "I'll just... okay. I can do it. I can make a wish."

Prismo looked at him expectantly.

Gunter tried to think what Simon would wish for, once he saw how his first wish turned out. His alternate self's wish for the Lich to disappear had been a good one, so what had gone wrong? Some sort of... butterfly, probably. They went around changing things in unpredictable ways whenever you went back in time. Butterflies were jerks. Turning Betty into a human and making Simon wear cursed crowns.

There were more butterflies the further back you changed things. That was how it worked in Football's video games, and it made sense for it to work that way in real life. Gunter vaguely remembered Simon telling him that the Lich had existed either since the Great Mushroom War, or since the beginning of time. That was a lot of time for butterflies to change things.

You didn't normally go back a thousand years to fix something that had happened five minutes ago, but Simon must have had some sort of reason. Unless Gunter could understand what that reason was, he couldn't fix the wish, and he had no hope of ever figuring that out. Simon was the smart one, not him.

Gunter pressed his flippers to his head. He couldn't fix Simon's wish, but he couldn't just go home and pretend nothing had happened. He wasn't sure there was even a home to go to anymore. He'd just have to make the best wish he could, and hope that it didn't attract too many butterflies.

Could he even make things any worse for Simon than they already were?

"How about," he began. "How about, I wish for the Lich to just pop out of existence, right before he makes his wish?" That was as late in the timeline as he could get it.

Prismo rubbed his chin. "Okay, okay, but what happens to you and your friend? What do you use your wishes on?"

"Oh," said Gunter. "Er..." Simon might make another bad wish before Gunter could stop him. Or Gunter might make a bad wish. He wasn't clear on whether he'd remember this. He hoped so. He liked Prismo. "Okay, instead of making a wish... the Lich grabs... No, he does make a wish. He wishes for us to go back home." He couldn't destroy all life if he'd already used his wish up.

Prismo looked thoughtful. "That could work. Is that your wish?"

Gunter nodded, feeling more confident by the second. "Yeah! I wish that the Lich's wish was for me and Simon to go back home." And not to wherever Ice Simon lived. "To Uuu."

"I can work with that," said Prismo. "All right. This has been nice." He hesitated. "See you."

The room faded away.

 

Gunter smacked into a rock, and his clones lost their grip and fell into the void.

"Gunter, quick!" said Simon, pointing at the Lich, which was already climbing into the yellow cube. "It's heading for Prismo's time room!" He was pretty sure that was what that thing was. He wondered what the Lich wanted with an almighty being, and none of the possibilities he came up with were good.

"Huh?" said Gunter. He shook his head violently. "Oh, right! Come on!" He grew, picked up Simon, and rushed to the cube.

They got to the entrance to see the Lich standing in front of the almighty Prismo, laughing.

The Lich composed itself and said "I wish for the extinction of all lif--" It seemed to have some kind of seizure. Possibly a result of its possession of Billy. "--For Simon and Gunter to go back home to Uuu."

Simon furrowed his brow. Why would its change its mind like that? The Lich could execute its plans better if they weren't around to stop him, but its original wish was more the Lich's style. Did it get unlimited wishes, or...?

The Lich gasped. "No, wait! That's not what I wish for--"

Prismo cut it off. "Sorry guy. You only get one wish." He looked up at Simon and Gunter. "Hey Gunter. Did you see that? Monkey's paw."

Simon and Gunter fell to the frosty ground back outside the Monster Kingdom, right where they'd left. There was no sign of the portal.

"What?" said Simon. He sat up and rubbed his head. "Why did he say that? Why did Prismo say that? Do you know him? What happened?"

"Nothing!" said Gunter joyously. "Nothing happened at all!" He grew to Simon's size and hugged him hard.

Simon let him hug him, despite his confusion. "Gunter, what are you doing? You're acting like you haven't seen--" Then it hit him. "We already went in there once, didn't we? Did I make a wish?"

Gunter nodded happily. "It was horrible, but I saved you. I saved everyone!"

He didn't seem to want to let go any time soon, so Simon stood up with some difficulty. He'd have to spend more planning time on scenarios like this, if he'd messed up his wish that badly.

Simon didn't see the jewels in the grass until they began to vibrate and rise into the air. They shot off in different directions. Back to their owners, he hoped. They'd have to go check on them in the morning, and apologise and do some community service. He didn't know what most of the jewels did, but he was a bit worried that Finn-Ice couldn't live long without his. Some time away from the power of the crown would probably be good for him, but... They'd also need to make sure Marceline was okay.

Something bright flashed at the corner of Simon's vision. He turned. "What was that?"

Gunter jumped off him to look. "Anchovies!" he said, holding up a pile of plastic bags and ice that hadn't been on the ground a minute ago. "He gave me fresh anchovies! Thanks, Prismo!"

It sounded like Gunter had really endeared himself to Prismo during... whatever.

Gunter read the note that had come with the fish, and frowned. "He's a nice guy, that Prismo, but he's, he's a tad clingy."

Simon couldn't help feeling like he'd missed out on something, but as long as all life wasn't extinct, he couldn't complain too much.

Chapter Text

The Year of the Flood
February

Simon was almost halfway down the cliff to Betty's bay when the wind picked up and sprayed him with icy droplets. He tightened his grip on the rope. "Looks cold down there..." The ocean off the north coast rarely looked inviting, especially at this time of year. But if he wanted to see his girlfriend before spring, he had no other choice.

He looked out at the open ocean, where the waves were smashing chunks of ice together like they were styrofoam. He told himself that the ice had probably broken off the Ice Kingdom, which was frozen even in summer, but he definitely saw more of it in winter. Some of it had probably formed naturally.

There was a gurgling voice from below. Betty had poked her head out of the water, and was trying to say something.

"What?" called Simon. She exhaled water when she spoke, making her sound more like a fountain than a person above the surface. Simon was hard to understand below the surface, unless he'd taken a waterbreathing potion.

Betty beckoned him in and calmed the waves.

Simon grit his teeth, and lowered himself down the cliff. He was wearing a wetsuit under his clothes, and the cold of the spray hadn't really got into his skin, but he didn't have anything to cover his face. When he was a couple of feet above the surface, he let go and splashed down.

The shock of the freezing water knocked the air out of him, and he leaned on a kelpy rock as he got his breathing under control.

Betty watched him, suppressing a smile. Simon scowled. It was okay for her. She had some sort of natural insulation to keep her warm, like an invisible layer of blubber or something. Not that he'd ever ask her about something like that.

"What did you say?" he said when he could breathe again.

They both sank under the surface so that Betty could reply coherently.

"I said, you've been staring at the water for half an hour. Are you ever gonna jump in?"

Simon surfaced. "What? Half an hour?" He did tend to lose track of time. "I'm sorry, Betty, I--"

He realised that she was trying not to laugh.

"It wasn't half an hour," he said.

"You're so serious, Simon," said Betty, when they got back under the surface. She waved a bandaged hand. "Why don't you grow a sense of humour?"

She turned and swam towards her house, which they'd built to partially stick out of the water, even at high tide.

"I have a sense of humour!" Simon protested, following her. He just didn't treat everything like a joke. sometimes he wanted to, but he wasn't a little kid anymore. Silliness was unbecoming of a hero.

It was warmer and calmer inside. Betty had attached what looked like heating elements to the walls. None of them were above the surface, which lapped at the point where the walls met the peaked roof, but they still looked like enough of a fire hazard to make Simon nervous.

Betty stopped swimming, and Simon beckoned her to the surface. "Betty," he said. "What happened to your hand?" Had she been attacked by something? What could possibly hurt her enough to make her bandage her hand like that?

Unexpectedly, Betty grinned. "Come on, I'll show you!" She grabbed his arm with her good hand and pulled him into a side room with cabinets strewn around the floor, seemingly at random. She picked up a battery with a couple of wires attached. The wires had small bits of metal on their ends. "Recognise this?"

"A..." Simon tried to remember the word. "An electrolysis device? Did you find some old coins?" Electrolysis separated substances at the atomic level, making it useful for removing the tarnish from ancient metal objects. Simon had told her all about the implications during their last date under Iceberg Lake.

"No, but look what happens when you do it without anything attached!" said Betty. She hung the wires over a stand, and turned the battery on.

The water around the ends of the wires began to bubble. Before the bubbles could reach the surface, Betty used her powers to combine them into two.

"Whoa..." said Simon, staring. "It's... green." One of them was green. The other was clear, as far as he could tell.

"Which element do you think they are, Simon?" said Betty, watching the bubbles grow from the metal pieces. "Hey. Do you have a lighter?"

"No..." said Simon. Betty knew how he felt about fire. What did she need a lighter for anywhere? She lived underwater.

"I wanna see if they're flammable," said Betty casually.

Simon hoped they could figure out what they were without having to set them on fire. "Well, there aren't many green gasses." Pity he couldn't remember which ones were. He'd memorised the periodic table a while ago, but it didn't have colour information on it, or much practical information at all. "Fluorine...?" Toothpaste was usually green or blue, and there was fluorine in toothpaste. Or sometimes it was white. "Is that how you hurt your hand?" Mermaids didn't have much experience with fire, as a rule.

"It wasn't the gasses." Betty turned off the machine, took some corked flasks from one of the cabinet, and wafted the green gas into one and the clear gas into the other. "You see how the water's all cloudy now?"

"Oh yeah!" He'd thought it was just the turbulence. The cloudy water was trying to spread out and mingle, but Betty wasn't letting it.

"I could tell it wasn't seawater," said Betty, "so I stuck my hand in it!" She rubbed her bandaged hand thoughtfully. "I think it's some kind of acid." She directed the cloudy water into another flask, which she put away with a smile. "It really hurt."

Simon had to think before he spoke next. Maybe she was in shock? How long did shock last? In mermaids? "You seem... happy."

"Of course I'm happy!" said Betty, agitating the water in her excitement. "I never hurt myself so bad before!"

Simon swallowed to make his ears pop. He wasn't sure if he'd heard right. The transmission of sound through water was still a grey area to him. "Uhh..."

"You don't understand, Simon," said Betty. "Dad never let me hurt myself so bad before. How am I supposed to learn anything if I can't sometimes mash it up?"

Simon still didn't really get it. "You want to make mistakes?"

"Yeah!" said Betty. "If dad ever heard about this, he'd-- Oh, he probably already knows." She sighed and sank to the bottom of the room, with her chin on her hands.

Simon waited for her to resurface. After a minute or two, she did.

"Why?" said Simon. "Did you tell someone?" Betty didn't have many friends, and all of them were back at the Ocean Kingdom. He felt bad for her. He probably would have been happy about something crazy like accidentally hurting himself too, if he'd had her sheltered childhood.

"No, but he has people keeping an eye on me," said Betty. She gestured at the empty room.

The water was a bit silty and hard to see through, but as far as Simon could tell, they were alone. "Where?"

"The plankton, Simon!" said Betty impatiently. "Ever looked at seawater under a microscope?"

Simon shook his head. He didn't own a microscope. Bonnibel did, but she didn't often let him use it. "Microscopic creatures? Can they..." He remembered the invisible plankton and lowered his voice. "Can they even think?"

"They can report back to my father," said Betty bitterly. "Hey. You said you always wanted to be an adventurer. Did your parents give you trouble about it?"

"Uh..." said Simon, surprised by the question. "Mom was kinda overprotective." Less than Betty's dad, he was sure. "Dad always encouraged me, he was way into adventuring. He even took me through some dungeons." He hesistated. "He didn't tell mom until later." That was not a good memory for him. He couldn't have known that she was so against young children completing dungeons, but he still felt bad for upsetting her.

"And... your mom knew you could handle it after that?" Betty pressed.

"I guess so, yeah," said Simon. He saw what Betty was getting at, but he hadn't started adventuring seriously until after his parents' deaths.

"That's perfect!" said Betty. "Simon, let's go through a dungeon and prove to my dad I can handle danger! Then maybe he'll stop spying on me. I know just the place."

"An underwater dungeon?" said Simon stupidly. Of course it was underwater. She couldn't exactly read surface treasure hunting guides without going through the trouble to get them waterproofed.

"It's just past the ridge," said Betty. She grabbed his hand. "Come on!"

 

Simon didn't want to risk swimming on the surface in this weather, so he took ten minutes of his precious waterbreathing potion. Betty had told him the dungeon was five minutes away, and she always overestimated how fast Simon could move underwater.

The dungeon turned out to be in the nearby ancient ruined city. Betty said the crystalline seaweed that grew through in the area was a pest and made it hard to grow anything else, but Simon thought it was beautiful. You never saw see things like that on land.

They went down what had once been a main road, over a line of half-buried cars and trucks, and Simon wondered if the people driving them had realised they were about to die. There was no way to know for sure.

Betty turned down a side street, through some roofless houses, and up a hill. "Here it is!"

They'd come to a tall building that had sunk so far into the silt that it was hard to tell how big it really was. Judging by the small flecks of paint still clinging to the bricks, it had once been grey.

"Hey, I've heard of this!" said Simon. "I read about in the Good Dungeons Guide!" Compiled by some of Wizard City's top scryers, it was an indispensable periodical for adventurers of any class, or at least that was what it said on the uuu.rec.adventure newsgroup. Simon found that it was at least worth the subscription fee.

"What did it say?" said Betty, as they swam to the only visible entrance, a big hole about halfway up that looked like it had been made by something bursting out from the inside.

"It said it's rated for one adventurer," said Simon. "But since you're a beginner, I guess it's okay. Oh, and we need bombs. Bombs that work underwater." Good thing they knew that now and not after hours of fruitless searching.

"Oh!" said Betty happily. "I nearly forgot!" She dug through her bag. "When I burned my hand, I separated out the stuff that made the water cloudy. It was some kinda white... stuff. I melted it and electrolysed it, and I got this weird metal." She pulled out a plastic container containing small balls of metal, each of which was thinly coated in something transparent. She took one out, and the coating began to dissolve. "Watch this. And stand back."

Simon stood back. Betty threw one of the metal balls down the hill, and it fell with more force that it should have underwater. It hit the ground and exploded with a flash.

"Bombs," said Betty.

Simon adjusted his glasses and inspected the container more closely. "What kind of metal is that?"

Betty shrugged. "It's soft and it blows up underwater. In air it just tarnishes. Oh, and sometimes it catches fire."

Simon thought he'd let Betty handle the explosives.

They looked at each other, and swam inside through the hole, coming out into the slanted remains of what had once been an office. It was dim, but they could still see the silvery surface of the water, glimmering not far above their heads.

The potion hadn't worn off yet, but Simon swam upwards and took a breath. Betty thought the air in here was probably okay, but he didn't want to take unnecessary risks. Betty knew a lot about the sea, but she was still as new to the surface as Simon was to the ocean. Maybe more. Simon could at least swim in the ocean if he had to.

He took a few more breaths, and when he didn't seem to be dying, swam back down.

"So," said Betty. "So where do we start?"

Simon scanned the room. There were two way out of the room that he could see, but one was covered in thick rubble. "I guess we go through that door."

Betty looked up, and Simon followed her gaze.

There was a big hole in the roof. There seemed to be more dungeon beyond it, but it was too high to reach. "That must be a more advanced section," said Simon. "We'll have to raise the water level."

Betty grinned. "Okay." She pulled her arms back.

"Wait!" said Simon. He took a breath to say more, and coughed. Now the potion was wearing off. He swam for the surface, and Betty followed. "You can't just use magic! That's cheating!"

"Are you sure?" said Betty, sounding disappointed.

Simon nodded emphatically before he surfaced again. "The Good Dungeons Guide says this dungeon can be solved without magic. We need to find another way."

Betty stared up at the hole, which wasn't too far from the surface. "Then I'll give you a boost." She grabbed him around the waist.

"That's cheating too!" said Simon, as she hoisted him above the water. "It's... it's rated for one person!"

Betty dropped him without warning. "Then what can we do?"

"There... there must be a way to raise the water level further in," said Simon, spitting out seawater. "Listen, we can't just skip half the dungeon. That's not how dungeons work."

The headed for the door.

"Why not?" said Betty. "It's just a series of rooms." She tried to pull open the door. "Ugh, it's stuck." She tugged harder.

Simon braced his legs on the wall and pulled on the door handle as well. "It's not- not the- lawful--" The door finally gave way, and two sharp-toothed eels rushed at them. "Zounds!'

One of the eels went straight for his legs, so he kicked it away. The other used the distraction to try to sneak up behind him. Simon ducked, and used the momentum to grab his nunchucks from his belt and hit the eel with them. It recovered quickly, but not fast enough to stop Simon from grabbing it by the tail and bashing it against the wall.

It stopped moving after that. Simon looked around for the other eel, and found it floating a few feet away, just above an old computer. "Are you okay?" he asked Betty, more out of courtesy than concern. Betty could take care of herself.

"That was fun," said Betty. She started to go through the door, but Simon pulled her back.

"Always check for monsters before entering a new room," he quoted, pressing himself against the wall and looking around carefully. The next room was part of a caved in hallway. There was a passageway under the rubble that looked just big enough to fit a person, and a door on both walls. The door on the right had a prominent padlock. "It's clear."

"I coulda told you that," said Betty. She swam past him and pulled on the padlocked door experimentally. "I guess it's locked."

"Yeah," said Simon. "The key should be around here somewhere." Dungeons always gave you the keys for locks, even rogue and subterfuge dungeons.

Betty pulled on the door again. "Can't you just pick the lock? Is that cheating too?"

Simon looked more closely at the lock, though he could already guess its basic structure. There wasn't much variety, even across dungeons. "Yeah, actually. I mean, I could." Dungeon locks were pretty simple. "It's wrong to pick a lock in a dungeon where you can get the key."

"Like it's wrong to use magic to skip ahead?" said Betty. She didn't seem to be taking this very seriously.

"It is in dungeons," said Simon. That was just how dungeons were. He opened the opposite door into a small room full of cleaning supplies and stacked furniture. "Looks like a janitor's closest."

Betty pointed at the crowded desk in the closet. "Hey, a key." She grabbed it, took it back to the locked door, and jammed it in. "Come on! Get in there, you stupid key!"

Simon took her arm. "Stop it, you'll damage the lock. This key must be for something else." Or it was a red herring. Some dungeons had a lot of those.

"How many locks are there?" said Betty, frustrated.

Simon shrugged. "Come on, let's search the closet. Might be more loot in there."

As they looked under mops and sealed chemical containers, Betty said "Simon, explain to me why suddenly lockpicking is wrong."

"Heroes have to stay lawful," Simon explained. She was still new to this. A lot of adventuring concepts sounded ridiculous when you didn't know why they existed. "You could become a villain if you're not careful."

Betty threw a plastic bucket over her shoulder, and it floated away on the surface. "Come on. We know we're not evil."

"Yeah, but you gotta keep checking up on yourself and making sure," said Simon. He did it every day. "All the worst villains think they're really heroes. Uh, except the Lich, I guess." He thought about it for a second. "No, the Lich too!" Destroying all life probably was heroic from the point of view of a being that hated life.

Betty held up a rotted wooden box. "Hey. Is this loot?" She shook it. It rattled. "It won't open." She turned it around. "It's locked!" She tried the key, but it didn't fit. "Can you pick this one?"

"I just told you why I can't," said Simon, trying not to get annoyed. "You start picking locks when you don't have to, and you end up murdering peeps just for cutting ahead of you line."

Betty frowned. "Whatever you say, Simon."

They found a pair of padded leather greaves, which Simon put on, but the only other useful item in the closet seemed to be the box. It was a bit too big to take with them, so they left it where it was and moved on to the passageway under the rubble.

Betty looked through and said "There's a pool of air just on the other side. I think you can make it, Simon"

Simon took a deep breath, and swam through the opening. He thought he'd emerged into a long hallway until he surfaced and saw it completely blocked off by more rubble. "Oh..." The only way to go was down, into a pool so deep Simon couldn't see the bottom.

Betty popped up from under him and pulled him down so she they can talk. "That's a dead end down there. Let's just blow it up!" She indicated the rubble.

Simon looked for cracks in the rocks ahead of them, but there weren't any. "We can't, the bombs aren't strong enough."

"So we use more," said Betty impatiently. "I got hundreds of these things back home."

The idea was so foreign to Simon that at first he didn't understand what she meant. "No," he said eventually. "We can only use one bomb at a time, and one bomb won't clear it."

It was a good thing he'd come along. It wasn't about getting to the end. Dungeons weren't just a source of loot, they were a test of character.

He took fifteen minutes of water breathing, and they dove down.

"You should really just become magic, Simon," said Betty. When Simon looked confused, she added "So you won't have to take a potion to breathe underwater."

"Y-You can't just become magic!" Simon protested, although he knew she was teasing him.

"Yeah you can," said Betty. "Did you even read any of the history books you waterproofed me?"

Betty was pulling ahead of him, so Simon kicked his legs as hard as he could. He didn't want to hold her up. "Of course I did, I-- Okay okay, it is possible to become magic." Most of the sentient population of Uuu had some sort of human ancestry by now. "But usually you just die instead!" Or go insane. Or go insane and then die. Magic was not something you messed around with.

"Hpmh, excuses," said Betty. It was getting dark, so she pulled out some glowing crystal seaweed in a jar and shone it below them. "At least you'd be a magical--" She glanced at the ground. "What's that?" She put the jar under her arm and scooped something shiny up in her good hand. "It's the key to that stupid box! And the door!" She held it up, and it glowed in the light of the seaweed.

"Hm..." said Simon. He inspected the key more closely. "I don't think it'll fit to the door. Uh, it could fit the box."

"You can tell that?" said Betty. "Come on, let's go try it!"

"It's too small to for the door lock," said Simon. That wasn't lockpicking, it was just common sense. Lockpicking wasn't an essential skill for an adventurer, although it was a useful one. "We better make sure we haven't missed anything down here before we go back."

Betty groaned theatrically, but sank down and sifted through the mud on the floor. "Simon, are you sure this is the best way to do things?"

Simon nodded and did the same, after checking that his breathing potion was in his pocket for easy access. "Have you ever heard of a book called Dungeon Crawling for the Lawful Good? It taught me everything I know about dungeons." He'd memorised every word, although he was glad it only applied to dungeons. Following all the rules all the time would be exhausting.

"I'm true neutral," Betty replied, as she dug up half a whiteboard.

"We should all try to be lawful good," said Simon. "You just need more experience. You'll see." Wasn't that what true neutral meant? Unaligned because you hadn't had a chance to shift to either side yet?

"Uh-huh." said Betty. She didn't sound convinced.

 

In the end, they stayed down in the hole for more than half an hour, until Simon was completely satisfied that they hadn't missed anything. Betty knew Simon could be a stick in the mud sometimes, but never for so long and so irritatingly. She couldn't figure him out sometimes. He'd be doing an hilarious impression of a chasm seaweed farmer, and five minutes later be more serious than an orca attack.

The small key she'd found turned out to not fit either of the locks, though Simon had found a bigger one that fit the locked door.

"Finally," said Betty, as the door swung open to reveal a seat of concrete stairs going up out of the water. "Hey, lemme try something."

"Okay..." said Simon, who was looking up the stairs and mumbling to himself. He was probably wondering how Betty could continue through the dungeon if it was full of air. But he didn't have to.

Betty pushed herself out of the water, keeping a protective bubble of water around her so that she could breathe. She swam to the first step poking out of the water. "Okay." She grunted with effort, and swam on to the step above, bringing as much water with her as she could.

She turned around to see Simon staring at her. "What?" said Betty. "Don't tell me this is against the rules too."

Simon shook his head. "No... No, it's great! The rules don't say anything about that. How are you doing it?"

Betty shrugged. "Magic. I'm just moving water around." She rolled the ball of water up a step, and couldn't stop some of it splashing back down.

"Should it be doing that?" said Simon. He leaned into the bubble so that he could hear Betty's reply, and tapped his fingers on the surface.

"Well... I can't stop it," said Betty. It was difficult to stay focused on all the water at once, and she couldn't control water with much precision if it wasn't connected to her. "It'll be fine. I just need to top it up sometimes. I have plenty."

Simon seemed fascinated by the edges of the bubble. "But won't you eventually run out of... good water?"

"Yeah, but it'll splash away faster," said Betty. It was possible to make bad water breathable again by stirring with the air a bit, but she wasn't confident enough in her ability to keep the bubble together. "Stop worrying, Simon, I can handle it."

"Oh, yeah," said Simon, like he was reminding himself. "You can handle it. Then, let's go."

Betty got better at controlling the bubble with each step she splashed over. By the time they got to the next floor, she still had half her water left, which was more than she'd expected.

Going upwards in the air was hard work. Like waves on the surface, her bubble did not want to leave the ground. Betty was familiar with the concept of gravity, but she'd never had to fight it so hard before. No wonder surface dwellers could barely think in three dimensions.

There were more stairs, but they were blocked by rubble. Betty didn't even bother mentioning the bombs this time. Instead, they went up a collapsed section of wall and came to a large, dry room with a floor that slanted down to the right. At the bottom of the slope was a jumble of broken furniture, and on the opposite wall was a map with pins stuck on it.

Simon scanned the room mechanically, scooped a pile of silver coins off the floor, and started to move through, in the silly falling forward and catching himself way land bipeds had. Betty grabbed his arm. "Simon, look," she said, pointing at the map. It was the first interesting thing they'd come across, and she didn't think he'd even seen it.

"Huh?" Simon looked. "Oh! What is that?"

They got closer. "It's pre-war," said Betty. "Right?" Simon was better at history than she was, but it was common knowledge that the Great Mushroom War had shifted the continents somehow. It had also blown a big hole in the planet, which wasn't anywhere on the map she could see.

"Yeah..." said Simon. He pulled a pin out and put it back in. "I wonder what these were for."

"Isn't this were we are?" said Betty, pointing at the continent in the center. The top half of that continent had no pins.

"Yeah!" said Simon. He pointed at one of the edges. "Right around there."

Betty tried to find Uuu in where he'd pointed, but all she could see was unfamiliar coastline.

Simon took a photograph of the map for later, and they were back to dungeon crawling.

Betty was surprised at how reluctant she was. The map was interesting. Dungeon crawling was... boring. Simon wasn't enjoying himself either, she could tell. He'd liked looking at the map, but now he was wearing his unfun serious face.

There was a creak so loud that Betty could feel the vibrations through her bubble, and Simon froze with one foot in front of the other. For a second, nothing moved, then the walls came alive with small land mammals. Rats or something. Betty wasn't an expert.

The rats rushed at them, Simon tensed and put a hand on his nunchucks, and Betty tried hard to care. Simon didn't seem too worried, so he could probably handle them on his own. If he looked like he was having trouble, she'd help, of course, but for the moment she just didn't care. She probably needed to conserve her water anyway. She was in the mood to crush things under fifty foot waves, and that wouldn't work up here.

Simon crouched as the rats approached, and punched apparently at random, knocking the closest rats against the opposite wall. A whole group leapt at him at once, but somehow he dodged every one of them. Several flew right past Betty's bubble.

Betty realised she was beginning to blush. She'd never seen Simon move like this before. He was... really good. At fighting. Lots of things at once. He didn't need her help at all.

Simon shook one last rat off his arm, smiling. He saw Betty's expression, and blushed a bit himself.

Betty laughed nervously, and beckoned him into the bubble. "Do you do that a lot?"

"It's the just I-- Yes," Simon stumbled. "Agility is important. I... I keep in practice."

"How?" said Betty. His secret second job at the circus?

"Gunter," said Simon, gesturing upward. "You know, he can do that clone thing..."

"Oh," said Betty, with another awkward laugh. "Hey, we better get going." Even dungeon crawling was better than continuing this conversation.

Simon assumed his serious face. "I can't believe I trod on that board. If more than ten enemies attack at a time, you've done something wrong." He said it so tonelessly it sounded like a quote.

"Weren't you having fun?" said Betty. He'd looked like he was having fun.

"If more than ten enemies attack at a time, you've done something wrong," said Simon again, still looking serious. He turned to continue on, and Betty grabbed his shoulder.

"Simon. This is kinda... boring. I'm not having any fun." Enough was enough.

"Not having any fun?" repeated Simon. "Come on! Dungeons are all about fun!" He forced a smile. "That's what they're for!"

"Can't we do it some other way?" said Betty.

"What?" said Simon still wearing that fake smile. "No. We gotta follow the book, remember? We gotta be lawful."

"I'm not lawful," said Betty. And neither are you, she thought. She didn't say it out loud, though. It was rude to contradict people about their alignment. "Do you have a book about true neutral dungeon crawling?" Not that she needed one. She was true neutral because she wasn't particularly inclined to law, chaos, good or evil. It wasn't some standard she needed to live up to.

Although at this point chaos was beginning to look pretty good.

"Your alignment's gonna shift," said Simon, with so much certainty he obviously believed it. "Come on. The sooner we get moving, the sooner we can finish the dungeon." He turned and continued on.

Something towards the end of the room glinted in the dim light. It was a pocket of water. Betty rolled towards it, but Simon stuck out his arm and mouthed "Wait."

"What?" said Betty. He was the one who'd been worried about her breathing water.

"Some acids look just like water," said Simon. He knelt down, took a bottle marked 'baking soda' out of his bag, and sprinkled it in the water. It dissolved.

Betty sighed theatrically, though she knew he couldn't hear her yet. She grabbed his arm, waited for him to take a breath, and pulled him in. "Simon, I can tell when something isn't water. It's just normal seawater. Except now it's got... baking soda in it." Whatever that was.

"You have to test unknown liquids in dungeons!" said Simon, crossing his arms. "It's in the book!"

Betty rolled herself into the water pocket, wishing Simon would just forget about the book for a few minutes.

Maybe it was time to take matters into her own hands.

She let the water construct dissolve, and beckoned Simon in. "Simon," she said. "Don't you think you're taking this lawful thing a bit too far?"

"Too far?" said Simon. He laughed unconvincingly. "There's no such thing. I am lawful."

"Yeah," said Betty. "You told me. Why is it so important to you?" She surfaced and took off her glasses. They were nearly useless above water unless she let them dry out, and she wanted to see his face.

Simon looked like he was going to brush her concerns off again, but he said "Sometimes... I think I might really be chaotic."

Betty thought that too. But he sounded so despondent that she just said "How about a test? If you're lawful, you'll stay lawful, even without the book."

Simon wrinkled his forehead. "But... isn't it all about going by the book?"

"Lawfulness is about order," said Betty. For someone so worldly and heroic, he didn't know much about alignment. Probably this would be good for him. "Where do you think the first lawful people came from? They didn't have books telling them how to act."

"I guess not," said Simon, still uncertain. "But Betty, I already memorised the book. I can't just... forget about it." He smiled weakly. "Hey, maybe I should become magic after all."

Betty smiled as well. "I can help with that. Just let me bind your memory of the book, and you can prove you're lawful!" She suspected that he'd actually realise that he wasn't lawful, and then he'd relax and stop pretending to be so serious. Either way, it would be good for him.

Simon looked at her strangely. "You can do that?"

"Yep," said Betty, surprised at his surprise. She guessed memory powers were less common than she'd thought. "I'll bind your memories temporarily. If something happens to me, they'll come back on their own. It's perfectly safe." Mostly safe.

Simon swallowed. "Okay. Just for this dungeon. Are you sure you--"

He didn't finish his sentence, because Betty had started singing, without diving under. It only worked above the water, where even her best singing voice sounded like a gurgle.

Simon's face relaxed, and he seemed to be looking at something a long way away. He stopped treading water, and began to sink. Betty grabbed him and held his head above the surface.

She'd never done this on a real human before. She never thought she'd have a reason to. Her father said it was their heritage, but Betty wasn't interested in luring sailors to their doom. There were much easier ways to drown people if she really wanted to, and people didn't often sail far enough from land to make it worthwhile. It was too easy to get caught up in the current to the edge of the world.

She turned Simon's head so that she could sing in his ear, and transferred her consciousness to his memory core. She was used to memory cores that looked like kelp, and she didn't know why she was surprised that his was no different. She'd expected a flower, or... something that grew on land. The core was wilted, because her song had bound all his memories, but it would to go back to normal the second her physical self stopped singing. It only barely gave her enough time to duck underwater when she needed to breathe.

That was okay. This wouldn't take long.

Memories were rarely in a neat little package on their own, so she began to gather them together by holding the thought of Simon's book in her mind, as well the magazine he'd mentioned, just to be safe. It wasn't a perfect technique. Sometimes completely unrelated obsessions or frequently revisited memoriestried to join in under flimsy pretexts, but she knew how to--

A memory whipped at her, so quickly that by the time she started to swim, it had already hit her. She found herself in some vehicle, with a young, tearful Simon. He was so far above the surface that there was no significant water anywhere, but since it was a dream, Betty could still swim and breath.

Simon hadn't seen her. He was too busy crying.

Betty tried not let his remembered distress distract her, and looked around the cluttered vehicle for the exit to the dream. Outside was an ancient city at dusk. She guessed it was really a modern city, unless Simon was a lot older than he let on her.

The sobbing stopped abruptly. Little Simon had seen her. "A... Are you the police?" he said, wiping his glasses on his shirt in a bad impression of nonchalance.

It was one of the doors. Left or right? The wrong one would lead further into the memory, and there wasn't time for that. She wasn't trying to indiscriminately rifle through Simon's memories. "No, I'm your... friend." Left door. She opened it and swam through. "Uh, ta leme."

To her annoyance, the door didn't lead back to the memory core. It led to a dingy looking city that was more in line with what Betty expected of modern land architecture. A memory inside a memory. How much time did Simon spend in his own head?

She was floating near a tower, on top of a raised platform. The tower was protected by a force field. At first she thought there was nobody around, but then Simon swung on a rope out of a high window, with Gunter on his back and a chest under his arm. This time he looked to be in his early teens or late preteens.

"Penny! We got it!" Simon pushed off the tower and swung around the other side. Betty swam to the top of the tower and looked down. High ground was a good hiding spot from surface dwellers and their gravity problems.

Simon was giving the chest to an excited little girl dressed in rags.

"Finally!" said the girl, and drew a knife, which she used to pry open the chest.

Betty had a good view of the city, but she couldn't see the exit yet. It was probably close by.

"Hey," said Simon, and Betty looked back down. The chest was full of gold and jewels, and Simon seemed surprised about that. "Where... Where's your basket? I-it is in there? Right?"

"What do you think, stupid?" said Penny. "You're so gullible. I had you picked for a master thief as soon as I saw you."

The exit was the window Simon and Gunter had come out of. She swam down to it.

Simon spluttered for a second, then fell silent. Betty looked around to see him slide to the ground into the fetal position.

To her relief, this exit led back to the memory core. Simon had told her about that second memory, though she'd got the impression that he'd been a lot younger than he'd looked in the memory, and hadn't been an adventurer yet. What did any of this have to do with the book, anyway? Did it have a rule about not being manipulated by adorable urchins?

Betty was so distracted that she ran head first into another memory. This one was back in the ocean, with her memory self nearby, kissing Simon on the mouth. The sea surged violently, and Betty blushed. She remembered this fine. She did not need to see it a second time. Besides, if Simon noticed her, his mind might confuse her with the memory Betty. Escaping a mind that thought you were a figment of its own imagination was not easy.

She dove down, and out of the memory.

Betty was more careful now as she gathered the memories. Simon's thoughts were swift and persistent, and it was getting hard to carry the relevant memories one-handed. Her thought form didn't necessarily have to match her physical form, but she'd never been able to get the hang of changing it.

She was still pleased about burning her hand, but she thought about Simon obsessing over something that had made him cry when he was five, and felt lucky that she still had one.

Eventually, she had the memories balled between her hands, connected to the rest by a stalk. If she tugged hard enough, they'd come lose and eventually disintegrate in the mental ether, but she didn't want to take his memories away forever. He would never have agreed to that.

She concentrated on the stalk, and it grew stiff and metallic. Nothing was getting through there for hours, unless she let it.

She let her mind fade from the memory core, and could finally stop singing. She pushed Simon to the edge of the water, and rubbed her throat. She hadn't practiced since she'd left the Ocean Kingdom.

Simon focused on her slowly. "What? I... Sorry, Betty, I must have spaced out."

"It's okay," said Betty. He'd remember what had happened when the song finished wearing off. "Come on, let's keep going." She reformed her bubble, and they kept going through the doorway to the next room.

It was a completely bare, metal room with a few scraps of paint clinging to the walls. It was so empty it looked like it had been ransacked. A wind rippled the surface of the bubble, and Simon shivered.

Betty kept a lookout for anything locked. She needed to know if it had worked. They turned a corner, and Betty grabbed Simon's arm and pointed at the chest nestled in a rusted away segment of wall.

Simon nodded and started towards it. Then he stopped, looked distraught, and moved his mouth.

Betty poked her head out of the bubble.

"-geon crawl!" Simon was saying. "I don't know what to do!"

Puzzled, Betty said "What would you normally do?" Why was he so upset? He'd agreed to it. Hadn't he? Had she misunderstood?

Simon gestured at the chest. "I'd pick the lock, but... I can't remember if it's the right thing to do. A-I think there used to be rules."

Betty realised what had happened with a shock. In binding his memories of the book, she'd also bound his memories of agreeing to have his memories bound. "Just do what you want to do and let's keep going." Separating the memories out properly would take too long, and direct reminders could cause stress on the memory stem. She could damage his memory permanently if she wasn't careful.

Simon closed his eyes. "Okay."

He knelt down next to the chest and shone a light in the lock. He jiggled a couple of picks around inside, and had it open in seconds.

Betty couldn't tell if he was any happier. He still looked upset about the books. She hoped she'd made the right choice.

Inside the chest was an empty picture frame. Betty took it. "You sure this dungeon is rated for one, Simon?"

Simon frowned. "What?"

"Nothing," said Betty quickly.

The only other feature of the room was a small crack with water dribbling out of it. There were no other exits.

"A dead end," said Simon. "That's weird."

"Are you sure?" said Betty. She felt around the crack. The metal around it was slightly bowed out. "We explored everywhere else." Except...

Simon seemed to be thinking along the same lines. "The upper floor! Betty, is there a lot of water behind there?"

Betty nodded. "I think the wall can hold it, but..." She pulled out the container of explosive metal and grinned. She could just increase the water pressure in the next room and get the same effect, but she really wanted to blow something up.

Simon stood back and took his waterbreathing potion out of his bag.

Betty backed up and threw one of the bombs at the wall. For a second it just sat there, as the water dripped down to dissolve the coating.

Then it exploded, and the drips became a torrent. Betty managed to stop it from knocking Simon over, but even she couldn't soften the force very much.

The room was rapidly being drained of air. Simon managed to wedge himself against a corner so that he wouldn't move, and took more water-breathing potion. He didn't have time to measure it exactly, but it looked like five minute's worth. It was enough get to back downstairs if they didn't dawdle.

Betty pulled ahead as they swam back, glad to be out of the air. She looked back to make sure Simon was keeping up, and noticed he was frowning.

"What's wrong?" said Betty. That had been fun. She'd had fun. Blowing up walls and controlling water flows.

"I'm supposed to be helping you learn about dungeons, but I can't remember anything!" said Simon, pressing on his temples. "I'm sorry, I'm ruining your first dungeon crawl."

"What are you talking about?" said Betty. "That was the most fun I've had since we got here. Just relax!"

Simon didn't relax.

They swam down the stairwell, which was much easier than climbing up it, and went back to the first room, where the water had risen past the hole in the roof.

Simon surfaced halfway into the tiny upper room, and looked up. "Hey. There's another gap."

"Let's take a look!" said Betty. She waited for Simon to explain why they couldn't, but he didn't, so she gathered up a column of water, then let it fall as she took notice of their surroundings. "There's a sea serpent through there." She pointed at the small hole that had been bored into the wall. "Let's fight it!" She was back in the mood for battle.

Simon smiled naturally for the first time. "Let's."

 

As they reached the sixth floor, Simon looked up, expecting to see another gap in the ceiling, but it was whole. "I think this is the last floor." The room was even smaller than the one they'd come from. The only exit was over a pile of munitions, mostly bombs. They seemed empty, so Simon wasn't too worried.

Betty formed the water column that had brought them up into a ball of breathing water, which took up most of the room. "This is the boss floor, huh?"

"I don't think bosses work like that," said Simon. He was sure he usually knew how they did work, How could he have forgotten everything so completely? They hadn't died yet, but he was more concerned about their methods, which were probably heavily chaotic. Not knowing the right methods didn't make theirs any less wrong.

"But the boss is here," said Betty. "Right?" She rolled her water forward cautiously.

Simon shrugged helplessly. "Maybe."

Betty's understanding of her surroundings was severely reduced out of water, so neither of them knew if she was right. The room seemed clear, though. There was only a small footlocker, which Simon picked open.

"Just old money," said Betty, sounding disappointed. She pulled out the notes and put them away.

Pre-Mushroom War artifacts were strangely rare in this dungeon. Maybe it was a common feature of dungeons to contain modern loot regardless of age. Simon thought he'd known the reason before, but the knowledge had vanished with all his other expertise.

Betty rolled over to the pile of bombs with her hand on her chin. She pushed them, but they seemed rusted together. She concentrated, and rolled her water up the block, almost vertically. When she reached the top, she waved at Simon, then suddenly disappeared down the other side.

"Betty!" Simon ran to see what had happened.

He pulled himself up the pile, and before he knew what was happening, he slid down a steep river of water on the other side, into blackness.

A coil of water pulled him faster down the slope by his ankle. Simon struggled until Betty came into view, laughing and throwing her hands into the air.

There didn't seem to be any danger yet. Simon relaxed and laughed as they spiralled downwards.

There was a flash, the slide stopped abruptly. They fell into a partially flooded room, still laughing.

A piece of laminated paper floated down from the slide. Simon grabbed it out of the air. "Huh. A photo."

It was a picture of them on the slide, holding on to each other and happy-screaming. Probably an automated system, he hoped.

"Let me see!" said Betty, snatching it off him. She examined it, smiled, and said "That's going in the picture frame."

Simon tried to figure out where they'd come out. It wasn't anywhere he recognised from the rest of the dungeon, though they hadn't visited every room. He didn't know how far they'd slid, but he guessed they were in some sort of basement. It was large, with a high ceiling, like a hanger. But he couldn't see a vehicle anywhere. It was just a huge, empty room.

He noticed something out of the corner of his eye, right below them. Simon grabbed Betty's arm. "Betty."

Betty looked down, just as the shape rushed up at them. They swam in opposite directions, and a huge, lopsided dolphin or whale erupted out of the water, then dove back under, chittering angrily.

"Takes one to know one," Betty shot back. She made a circular motion with her good hand, starting a small whirlpool.

"You speak dolphin?" said Simon, watching the dolphin carefully. It didn't seem too inconvenienced. In fact, the whirlpool was dissipating.

"You don't?" said Betty, making faster motions.

The dolphin swam against the current, and the whirlpool died down.

"Ugh, she's nullifying my attacks," said Betty. She threw her arms back and created a big wave, which, under the dolphin's forward motion, turned into a gentle rise.

The dolphin rushed them again, generating a current so strong that Simon almost didn't get out of the way in time.

"Betty!" he said. "Get me as close as you can!"

Betty used the water to push him towards the dolphin, which was now circling the walls. The current slackened off as he got close, but Simon's swimming had improved so much lately that he barely lost any speed.

He hit the dolphin's back hard and held on, twirling his nunchucks and hitting it in the back of his head. The dolphin twisted around and tried to tear him off its back with the water, but he barely felt the tugs. It seemed to have a lot of control over water, at least at close range, but it could not beat Betty's currents.

After several blows, the dolphin let out a tiger-like roar, and finally managed to throw him off.

The water began to drain from the room, apparently to nowhere.

"What's going on?" said Betty. She formed her bubble back as the water went below head height.

"I think it's phase two," said Simon. He assumed it was the dolphin letting the water out, because he couldn't see anything else that could be doing it. And why would it get rid of the water if it wasn't at least as competent out of the water than in? Maybe it didn't know that Simon was as much a land dweller as Betty was a water dweller. It wasn't going to get an edge this way.

When the room drained completely, the dolphin chittered and bounced around at them. Simon had no trouble dodging, but he was a bit worried about Betty. She wasn't quite as agile when she had to roll a big sloshy ball around.

The dolphin stopped in the centre of the room, and pulled its head back. Nothing seemed to happen, except Betty grit her teeth.

Simon poked her head into her bubble to see what was going on.

"She's trying to take my water!" said Betty. "Go distract her or something!"

"Right!" said Simon. Maybe if he hadn't lost his memories, he would have guessed that and not wasted the time.

The dolphin kept pulling on the water, but it turned its head to watch Simon as he tried to sneak behind it. Realising that he couldn't get out of its sight, Simon abandoned stealth and jumped at its back. It slapped him in the face with its tail, knocking him to the floor. He managed to twist his feet under him and land in a crouching position, but the dolphin hadn't relaxed its guard at all.

"Hm... That's not gonna work this time."

Simon looked back at Betty. She was barely holding on. He thought he could see a fine mist streaming from the bubble to the dolphin.

He went right up to the dolphin and smacked it in the face. It bit him in the arm, held on for just long enough to show that Simon couldn't break its grip, and let go.

Simon stepped away and rubbed his arm. The wound wasn't deep, but it did hurt. He was still dripping with saltwater, which didn't help.

So. He couldn't stay on its back, he couldn't attack it from the front, he couldn't attack it from the back, and it was flexible enough to hit him with either end if he attacked it from the side. If he did nothing, Betty would lose her grip on her water. It didn't seem to be getting tired, unlike her.

What did he do now? Simon pressed his temples, trying to think. He had no idea. The monster was going to take all Betty's water and he had no idea. The dolphin was... invincible.

How did you kill an invincible boss monster? Dungeons were always solveable, he still remembered that. "Think," he mumbled, pressing his head harder.

Stealth was not going to work. There was nowhere to hide, and no way to get the dolphin's attention away from him. He assumed that Betty was already trying her best to keep her water, and even as he watched, a glob of water detached from the bubble, and splattered into the dolphin's head.

Betty looked around at him, poked her head out, and yelled something that was mostly unintelligible, but Simon could lipread well enough to see his name. She was wondering what he was doing just standing there.

What a time to get strangely specific amnesia. His girlfriend was going to suffocate, all because he couldn't protect her the one time she needed protection. She was so smart and capable and good at everything, until you took her out of the water.

No. She was less capable out of water, but she was exactly as smart. Simon approached the slowly shrinking bubble and waved Betty out.

"Uh..." he said. "Any ideas, Bets?"

"What?" said Betty. She sounded strained.

"I-I-I don't know how to stop it." Simon did his best to sound calm. He wondered if he should have lied and told her that it was a test, and she had to come up with a plan for him.

It would have a been a sadistic and pointless test. She was under enough pressure trying to keep her water, and she needed to know her own strengths and weaknesses, not Simon's. At least not in much detail.

Betty didn't reply. She just swallowed, and Simon could tell she was disappointed in him.

Simon focused as hard as he could on his vague, fleeting memory of rules for dungeons, and pain shot through his head, nearly sending him to his knees.

Betty looked from left to right. The bubble seemed to be shrinking faster. Was she giving up, or was the bubble's surface area just smaller?

Betty beckoned Simon into the bubble, and Simon took a breath and went in. She normally pulled him in without even asking. It could have just been because she usually wasn't locked in a watery tug-of-war with a monstrous cetacean, but he couldn't help thinking that it was because of him.

"Simon, you can't remember because... I made you forget," Betty said. "You agreed to it," she added, before he could say anything.

"I... what?" said Simon. What she said made so little sense it sounded like a lie. It made his head hurt so much that he couldn't even muster the strength to be angry.

Betty grabbed his arm. "Don't think about it. Just let me restore your memory." She opened her mouth.

Some time later, Simon shook his head. For a second, he thought he'd been daydreaming, until his wet clothes reminded him where he was. He remembered now. He had agreed. And he'd proved that he was... chaotic.

This was very bad, but he couldn't afford to worry about his alignment now. He stepped back, massaged his temples, and mumbled "Boss battles..." Suddenly he knew a lot of rules for battling bosses. He knew not to let his guard down until he was sure the boss was defeated. He knew that if the boss didn't react to an attack, it probably wasn't doing any damage. And he knew that... "When the boss seems unassailable, look at the environment!"

He looked at the environment. It was a big room, made out of brick. There was a door at one end. Part of the right wall was cracked.

"Cracked..." he said. Cracked walls could be bombed. That was one of the axioms of dungeons. "Betty!" He mimed an explosion at her.

She didn't seem to understand. "She's weak to yoga? Isn't everyone?" She poked her head out.

"No, the bombs!" said Simon, pointing at the wall. "That wall has a crack in it!" He wondered how much effect the bombs might have on the dolphin, and whether he would have thought of that if he'd remembered that they were necessary for this dungeon.

"Okay..." said Betty reluctantly. She gave Simon the container of metal.

Simon took out a good sized piece gingerly and hurled it at the wall. The coating around it cracked, but the metal just sat there, getting slowly duller.

Simon gestured at Betty. She realised what he meant and shot a quick blast of water at it from the now quickly shrinking bubble. She had to curl up tightly to stay inside. They were out of time.

The bomb exploded, leaving behind a substantial hole in the wall. Behind it was an alcove with a deep, smooth hole in it. Above the hole was a button, and a faded sign reading " M EN Y DE N E".

Simon hesitated, then pressed the button.

There was a slow whine. Something was warming up. Simon peered down the hole, then realised that he was looking down the barrel of some sort of weapon.

He threw himself out of the way just in time. "Holy moly!"

Something rocketed past him and exploded on the opposite wall.

Simon stared at the black mark it had left. That would probably help, but there didn't seem to be any way to aim it. He went back to Betty's bubble, which was now small that she was almost doubled over, with her back exposed to the air, and whispered "Can you make the dolphin move in front of the rocket?"

Betty grinned weakly and nodded. She took a breath, and yelled something with a lot of clicks and chitters.

The dolphin replied with its eyes narrowed.

Betty said something else, and indicated herself with a "come and get me" gesture.

The dolphin charged. Betty quickly moved her breathing water under her and used it to propel herself away.

Simon retreated to the alcove and tried to calculate the right time to press the button. Betty was leading the dolphin around in a circle that went directly in front of the weapon. If he did it right, they had a chance. If he did it wrong, he could hit Betty instead.

Betty glanced at him as she went around.

Simon counted in his head. If the dolphin's speed remained current, and he remembered how long it took for the M EN Y DE N E to warm up, then he should press the button... now.

He flattened himself against the wall next to it, and the weapon warmed up and shot a rocket that caught the dolphin right on the midsection.

When the smoke cleared, the dolphin was on its back. Simon ran to check on it, with one hand on his nunchuks, but it wasn't necessary. They'd won.

Betty took a deep breath of her small amount of remaining water, and headed for the door, picking up water from the floor as she did.

 

Later, they sat on a buried golf cart in the underwater city, sorting out the loot in silence. Simon let Betty keep most of it. It was her first dungeon, and he had plenty of loot at home.

Betty seemed happy. She was humming to herself as she let the coins fall through her fingers and made a whirlpool from all the keys they'd collected.

Simon wished he was happy. He sighed, and looked up at the surface, where an iceberg was passing. There was nothing like being underwater in winter to truly appreciate how much of an iceberg stayed under the surface. "Maybe I really am chaotic."

Maybe he'd been deluding himself all these years. Why was doing things the wrong way so fun?

"You could still be lawful," Betty suggested. "The book just... didn't tell you the right rules."

"Yeah," said Simon. "Maybe." It was tempting to think that the book was the one that was wrong.

They watched the iceberg pass overhead, almost like a cloud, until Simon took a breath and coughed it back up. "Breadballs!" he glubbed, swimming upwards. The waterbreathing potion had worn off.

The surface was further up than it looked, and he was already tiring. He didn't think he hold his breath that much longer. "Breadballs," he said again, wasting precious air.

Betty grabbed him and propelled him upwards. He broke the surface and gasped for air. It was so cold it felt like tiny icicles were stabbing his throat, but it was air.

"Simon?" Gunter was sitting on the iceberg, frying up a fish.

Simon clambered onto the iceberg and tried to warm himself on Gunter's personal stove. "I r-ran out of air," he said, when he could speak again.

Gunter prodded the fish with a spatula. "Are... are you okay?"

Betty dunked the iceberg underwater just as Simon was starting to get slightly warm, and said "All our dates end this way."

Chapter Text

Year of the Dog
July

A fly landed on Simon's nose. He didn't move. If he did, he'd have to start his ninja training all over again. he had to spend twenty minutes frozen in an uncomfortable position, every day. No excuses, or he'd never learn to stay truly still.

He'd been clinging upside down to the side of the roof fifteen minutes so far, and his head was beginning to swim, but he was fine. Except for the fly on his nose. Blowing on it was against the rules, he decided. He was like a piece of furniture, until his target wandered into range and--

Suddenly, Gunter rose up to the size of the house right in front of him, and Simon barely kept himself from jerking backwards.

Gunter looked Simon in the eye, and sighed heavily, blowing his fishy breath into Simon's face and scaring away the fly. He sighed again, louder.

Simon ignored him. Whatever it was, it could wait five minutes. Gunter knew how important Simon's training was.

Simon mentally catalogued Gunter's body language, and counted down from a hundred in his head. Nothing happened when he hit zero, but a few seconds later, Gunter went back inside.

Oh well. One day he'd solve Gunter's attention span.

When his time was up, Simon swung himself around, and a wave of dizziness hit him. "Ooh... Oh Glob..." He held onto the side of the roof until he could trust himself to move. Could he train his blood not to respond so much to gravity somehow? Were blood vessels muscles? His heart was a muscle, unless the time it had come to life and tried to kill Bonnibel negated that.

He climbed back inside through the window, glad to be out of the sun, and immediately walked into one of Gunter's clones. Gunter inhaled deeply, then sighed again.

Simon could take a hint. "What's the matter, Gunter?"

Gunter looked up like he hadn't even noticed Simon was there. He obviously had. No matter how many clones he had, he could usually turn his attention to any of them in an instant. Simon theorised that his clones had at least enough individual awareness to process information and selectively send the most interesting parts back to his main consciousness, wherever that was. He'd asked Gunter about it once, but Gunter had just shrugged.

"Oh, Simon!" said Gunter. "I, uh, I didn't see you there. It... No, no it's nothing. Just... nothing."

"Oh, okay," said Simon. That happened to him sometimes. "Then why don't you just put it out of your head?"

"What?" said Gunter.

"Like this," said Simon. He pressed his hands to his temples, squeezed his eyes shut, and said "No no no no no no no no no no!" He opened his eyes and smiled. "All gone."

"Er," said Gunter. "Actually, it is something. There's this... There's this game I've been playing."

Simon rubbed his head. He'd pressed it a bit too hard. "Game?" He loved games.

Gunter shuffled his feet. "It... it's called Card Wars. It's a... card game. Called... called Card Wars. I'm getting pretty good at it, actually."

Simon rubbed his chin. "Card Wars? I never heard of it." Why had he never heard of it? It was a game, and it seemed to require some skill. Exactly his kind of game.

"Yeah, I know," said Gunter. "I mean, I... I thought you wouldn't be interested."

"Heck yeah I'm interested!" said Simon. "What kinda game is it? Playing card or trading card?"

"Well it's a trading card game, and it's really, super complicated, and you make fantasy monsters fight each other, and-- and Lady Rainicorn doesn't want to play anymore." Gunter folded his arms. "I may have beaten her. Once or twice. Thirty-three times in a row."

"I'll play with you, Gunter," said Simon quickly. Being good enough to beat Lady Rainicorn meant almost nothing in terms of gaming. Lady probably could be a good strategist if she took it more seriously, but she thought games were just a fun way to waste an afternoon. Or that's what Gunter told him. Simon still hadn't managed to learn Korean.

"Weeeeeeeeeell..." said Gunter. He looked around. "Okay."

Straight away, his main body ran in, holding a metal box. Both Gunters spoke at the same time, as they cleared off a table, opened the box and took out the cards inside.

"Gunter..." said Simon, which had no effect. "Gunter! You're doing that thing again." He poured some potato chips into a bowl and took it to the table.

"What thing?" said the clone.

"Oh, sorry," said the main Gunter, at almost the same time. He reabsorbed his clone. "G... Got a bit out of sync there." He pulled a big bottle of green flavoured soda from the icebox. "I was just explaining the rules. There is a lot of them. Rules, I mean."

Simon pulled the manual out of the box and flipped through it. "Interesting..." The more rules, the better. He'd once found half of an expansion manual for something called "Fights & Loot" in a glovebox at the junkyard, and he'd spent days searching for enough information to make it playable. He'd never wanted anything so much since the time his parents had refused to buy him a globe of the ancient world.

Card Wars seemed less complicated than Fights & Loots, but it would do for now.

Gunter passed him one of the decks, and Simon inspected it. He was beginning to understand how to play. Maybe. He needed a bit more time.

Football entered the room, wearing a tutu and twirling like a ballerina.

"Hey, Football!" said Simon. "Me and Gunter are playing Card Wars. Wanna join in?"

Football looked over at them and frowned. "I do not play such games with Gunter." She twirled out of the room, still frowning.

Simon watched her leave. "Huh..."

Gunter shrugged, and said "Well, the first thing you need to know is how to play the game. Every turn has three distinct..."

Two hours later, they'd got as far as setting out the cards, and Simon had read the manual cover to cover, half listening to what Gunter was telling him. He got it now. He was going to win. There was no doubt about that.

"For the glory!" Gunter yelled, snapping Simon back to reality. "Simon! You weren't listening!" He glanced out the window at the setting sun. "Ah well, there's time to explain it again."

"I heard enough kick your butt," Simon replied, smiling.

"We'll see about that," said Gunter. He leaned his elbow on the table. "Okay, what... what kind of stakes are we playing for?"

"The loser... will know he's a loser," said Simon, narrowing his eyes. The worst possible outcome.

Gunter narrowed his own eyes. "Agreed."

He turned his kingdom cards sideways, a move that the manual called "flooping". Simon did the same, and their kingdoms appeared on the board in front of them. Simon held his cards out in front of him in a fan, pretending to think. One glance at Gunter's overly corn-dependant kingdom was all he needed for victory.

"I go first," said Gunter.

Simon leaned back and dangled his free arm behind the chair. Good. Once he saw Gunter's play style, he wouldn't just win. He'd annihilate him.

Gunter's first move was to play a spell that displayed Simon's cards to him. "Ooh, you have a Crimson Bloodstorm. I'll take that." He touched its hovering representation, and the Crimson Bloodstorm floated out of Simon's hand and into Gunter's.

Simon snorted.

"What?" said Gunter. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing," said Simon. Crimson Bloodstorm was... workable, but only under certain circumstances, when you were very sure of your opponent's options. Its power made it attractive to amateur players, he assumed, but it was too easy to turn its against its own side.

"No, no you snorted," said Gunter, waving the card he'd taken from Simon. "I heard you. I know what you're trying to do, and it, it's not working. You are trying to reverse psychology me." He tapped his head. "Not falling for it."

Simon shook his head and didn't bother answering. Psyching Gunter out was so easy.

"Well, maybe my Husker Knights will have something to say about your mind games!" said Gunter. He activated his corn knights and the Crimson Bloodstorm, and they rushed towards Simon's side of the board.

Simon put his hand on the pig card, the cornerstone of his tentative strategy.

"You are actually going to activate your pig to defend against my knights," said Gunter. He started to laugh.

Simon smirked, and said "No. I'm gonna floop it."

Gunter laughed harder. "You don't floop to defend! You activate! Are you sure you're ready to play with the big kids? I, I think the monster preschool is still open--"

"I'm not defending," said Simon. "I'm countering. My pig goes first, because my pig and your attack both move at stack speed."

"I know what countering is!" said Gunter. "What could your pig possibly do--"

Simon flooped the pig. It wandered over to Gunter's side and started eating all Gunter's corn crops.

"What is it doing?" said Gunter. He swatted at it. "Stop doing that!"

Simon sniggered.

Gunter pointed. "You knew this would happen, didn't you?"

With the removal of their energy source, the Husker Knights fell apart. Without the attack, the Crimson Bloodstorm stayed where it was, raining blood onto the helpless knights.

"Sorry Gunter, I think the preschool just shut," said Simon. "You really wanted to find someone on your level, huh?"

Gunter growled. "Your turn."

Simon drew the Spirit Tower, and placed it and the Cave of Solitude in his kingdom. "I'm gonna hide my pig in the Cave for now," said Simon. He had to keep it safe until he improved his defences, or at least drew another pig. "My Ancient Scholar goes in the schoolhouse," he continued. "To study." By the way Gunter was grinding his beak, Simon was going to need a buffed up scholar soon, and the schoolhouse had just the spell he needed.

"Then... That just leaves your cool dog to attack, doesn't it?" said Gunter.

"Oh, I'm not attacking this turn," said Simon. He put his cards down and sat back.

Gunter sniggered. "Your mass funeral. I cast Field of Nightmares and activate my Legion of Earlings!" Some more corn people rose out of the ground and danced around.

"What's that supposed to do?" said Simon, with his hands behind his head.

"It's supposed to scare your stupid pig to death," Gunter replied. "Because... Field of Nightmares buffs their ability. Their... their scare ability."

Simon pointed at the cave. "You can't. It's in the Cave of Solitude. Can't hurt monsters in the Cave of Solitude."

Gunter slammed his flippers on the table. He scanned his cards, and said "Oh you can't, can't you?" He turned one of his cards on its side. "I floop the volcano!"

Simon leaned over to read the card's details. "What, you wanna destroy your own side along with mine?"

"Yes!" yelled Gunter. "Die, you corn-killer!" The volcano exploded, flooding both sides with lava and burning up the corn field. A stray rock flew at the Cave of Solitude, destroying it, and the pig.

"Oh no," said Simon, putting on an upset face. He recalculated his strategy and smiled inwardly. Gunter was wasting his turn.

Gunter played a card to repair his kingdom, reviving his knights, and revealed a powerful Immortal Maze Walker hiding in his Useless Swamp. "I attack your schoolhouse with the Immortal Maze Walker and the Husker Knights!"

Simon frowned, almost genuinely. Immortal Maze Walkers got triple damage from corn energy. But that would only matter if it actually got a chance to do some damage, which it wouldn't.

"Your schoolhouse crumbles before my--" Gunter began.

"Hey, hold up," said Simon. "I never took my defence phase."

Gunter snorted. "What could you possibly have left--"

Simon moved his Ancient Scholar out of the schoolhouse. "He's been studying Raise the Dead ability."

"Yeah, and?" said Gunter. He tapped his flipper on the table. The Maze Walker and Husker Knights waited at the border between kingdoms.

"He raises my pig," said Simon, smirking. "Then..."

"Simon, don't you dare!" Gunter yelled.

"Then, I floop the pig," said Simon. He flooped the pig.

The pig ate all Gunter's corn, de-energising the Husker Knights. Simon chuckled.

Gunter breathed deeply. "Okay. Okay. At... At least I still have--"

Simon's defence phase over, the Immortal Maze Walker crossed over to Simon's side, and was immediately entranced by the Spirit Tower, which had the one-off ability to gank the weakest creature that attacked the kingdom. Gunter had either forgotten about that, or had never even known.

Gunter screamed, ran across the room, and bashed his head against the wall.

"What's wrong?" Simon called. "Afraid to be the loser?"

Gunter came back and jumped into his chair. "Your turn." He leaned over the table and stared at Simon.

Happily, Simon scanned Gunter's face up cards for any hidden traps, and played the Immortal Maze Walker, annihilating the last of Gunter's creatures, the Wandering Bald Man stuck in the Useless Swamps.

Simon jumped up. "Hah! How's it feel? How's it feel to lose in two turns?"

Gunter moved his beak as thought he was thinking. "No... No, the game's not over yet. That was just a... warm up. It's... It's not fair, you having never played the game before. The real game starts now."

"But..." said Simon. "I beat you. If anything I--"

Gunter drowned him out. "Lalalalala! It is time to play the real game."

Simon shrugged. "Okay." He was having fun. One more game couldn't hurt. He could use a more complex strategy now that he had a feel for how it played.

He sat for an hour, rearranging his deck and coming up with strategies and discarding them, trying to judge how much Gunter would vary his own strategy. Gunter sat and stared at him through narrowed eyes the whole time. Simon never once saw him blink.

 

The wind blew across the fertile plains of Simon's kingdom, and up the stony mountains, where it deposited its precipitation as snow before it could reach the desert beyond. As a result, the mountains yielded double cold energy every turn. The desert produced heat energy, and didn't need the wind anyway.

Spread across the kingdom was a group of heavily defensive buildings, and a few armoured Kaynight dogs.

"Okay, men!" said Simon, walking his fingers in front of them. "This is it. This is where we show those losers in Gunter...inia who they're up against. Remember, there's no shame in falling in battle today. The only shame lies in losing to Gunter!"

Gunter looked at his side, then at Simon's. As Simon had guessed, his initial layout was basically the same, though he had more winged creatures. Simon could deal with that.

Gunter moved his beak like he was trying to think of something to say. Finally, he said "For corn!"

To his credit, Gunter didn't attack on his first turn this time. He cast Plains of Eternal Itching at the edge of his battlefield. "Good luck getting your pig through there. Simon." He narrowed his eyes in a smirk.

Simon shrugged. "Who said I was using the pig?" He was. It was too effective not to use against a corn-reliant opponen. But Gunter didn't need to know that yet. The pig would stay in his hand until there was a good reason to play it.

Gunter didn't speak much through the rest of the game. He continuously attacked with his fliers next few turns, and Simon continuously strengthened his defences. Some of his Kaynights died, but that was fine. That was what they were there for. Stalling.

Finally, he drew the enchantment he needed. "I play the pig," he said, putting the pig in his hand on his plains. "And I cast Cloud Underwear on the pig."

It rose into the air, and Simon moved it to his most heavily fortified outpost. He'd floop it later, when Gunter invariably attacked.

Gunter did attack, on the next turn. He only used Husker Knights, so Simon flooped the pig and they didn't make it into the kingdom. Simon assumed that Gunter was playing poorly because he was angry. He wasn't stupid. Just bad at thinking ahead.

With the pig eating Gunter's crops every turn, Gunter's energy pool dwindled to the meagre energy given by his Useless Swamps, and Gunter began making a soft growling noise.

"Face it, Gunts," said Simon, moving the pig into the mountain outpost for his turn. "I'm the winner at Card Wards, and you'll always just be a loser."

Gunter threw his cards down. Simon looked at them, and couldn't stop himself from breathing in slightly. Gunter actually had the ability to be a credible threat with that hand,

Gunter saw his expression, and looked down. He mumbled to himself as he read his cards, then gasped. He put down the card Simon had seen. "I cast Cold Snap!"

A wave of cold swept across the board, making both sides' troops shiver. In the mountains, the temperature dropped to close to absolute zero. If Simon had cast Indoor Heating beforehand, he might have had a chance, but he didn't even have it in his deck. The pig froze solid. Everything froze solid, except for the Rime Elemental patrolling the outer regions.

Gunter cackled. "You lost your pig. What are you gonna do now? Cry? Your pig's dead, Simon. Dead."

Simon shrugged and kept a neutral expression. His desert wouldn't give out its heat energy this turn either, but he had enough. Besides, Cold Snap wasn't reusable like the pig was.

"What... what are you doing that for?" said Gunter. "Your pig's dead. Don't you understand? We are talking comeback of the century for Penguinland. Comeback of the century."

"Penguinland?" said Simon with a smile.

Gunter tapped one of his cards with his flipper. "Archer Dan!"

Archer Dan stayed where he was.

"Ooh, right," said Gunter. "My cornfields... They haven't grown back yet." He looked at his side more closely. "I'm... completely out of energy." He shook his flipper. "The comeback of the century begins next turn!"

Simon made a show of looking at his cards. "Hm... Whatever will I do without my pig?" He picked a card out of his and played it on top one of his harpies. "I guess I'll have to play my backup pig."

Gunter leaned over. "Wha--? That... that's cheating! You can't just play another pig!"

"Aw, you think you know so much about Card Wars," Simon said. He considered a condescending head pat, but decided against it. He couldn't be sure Gunter wouldn't swallow him in one gulp.

He put the pig inside a plain outpost, while Gunter thunked his head against the table.

"For my battle phase, I cast Energy Vacuum," continued Simon.

Gunter stopped hitting his head on the table. "What? I haven't got any energy. You're wasting your turn."

Simon handed him the card. Gunter read it. "If the opponent runs out energy, the remaining points will be taken in the form of... creatures..."

All of Gunter's creatures began to turn blue and go over to his side. Gunter screamed and grew huge, knocking the table away.

Simon jumped out of the way. "Wowsers!" Gunter was taking this harder than he'd expected.

Gunter screamed at the sky for three minutes before he went back to normal size. "Oh. Oh look at that. The game's ruined. We'll have to just play again from the beginning."

"Uh, I'm gonna heat up some dinner, okay?" said Simon, making to stand up. They'd just repaired the roof, and he didn't want to be around Gunter until he calmed down.

Gunter grew again and grabbed him. "We'll just have to play again."

"I... I'm getting a little stiff," said Simon. They'd been playing sitting there for hours, he realised. "W-w-why don't we play again later? Tomorrow?"

"Today," said Gunter. "We play until the game ends."

Simon recalled what Football had said earlier. Why didn't she play with Gunter? Did she know something Simon didn't? "Uh..." He rubbed his leg. "Ow, a leg cramp!" he yelled. "In my leg!" He stood on one leg and hopped out of the room. "I gotta replenish my... blood salt or whatever!"

He flattened himself against the wall in the next room and called quietly. "Football! Football, you in here?"

Something small and sharp smacked into his shoulder.

"Ow!" Simon pulled it out. It was a tiny dart. "Football, there better not be paralyser in this." That was all he needed.

Football jumped down from the rafter. "No, Simon. It's just water this time."

Simon put the dart down gingerly. "Football, Gunter's acting... crazy. He just put a hole in the roof because I beat him at Card Wars!"

Football put a hand over her mouth. "You beat Gunter at Card Wars?"

Simon grinned. "Yeah, twice!" He was so good at gaming.

"Simon... that is terrible!" said Football. "He will keep challenging you over and over, until he wins!"

Simon waved his hand dismissively. "Have you played him? He can only win against casuals."

"Yes," said Football. "One time, I played him for two weeks straight. He kept making up an excuse why it didn't count when I won." She climbed up Simon's body and held onto his bowtie to look him in the eye. "You must take a dive, Simon."

"That's impossible, he..." Simon began. "Wait. Two weeks? Where was I?"

"You were competing in the All-Ooo Thief-Heroics Olympiad," said Football, still gripping his bowtie.

"Stealth-Heroics," Simon muttered. He remembered that. He hadn't won, but he would have if he hadn't spent so much time being suspicious of his competitors. "Football, listen. I can't lose to Gunter. I'm a Card Wars ultra--"

"That's enough time!" A flood of Gunters came through the door and carried him back to the table.

Simon sat down, shuffled his cards, and looked into Gunter's eyes. They were the eyes of someone who was prepared to sit there for months until Simon made a mistake or died of hunger, and claim the mantle of the winner.

"I gotta rethink my strategy," said Simon, to give himself some more time. "Uh, my leg feels way better now."

Gunter folded his arms and stared at him.

He couldn't lose. He had a reputation to uphold. He couldn't let Gunter think he was actually better at Card Wars than Simon. Gunter was mediocre, at best.

If Simon lost, he'd be the loser. But if he won, they'd sit at this table forever.

It was a pretty fun game, but... it probably wasn't worth never doing anything else ever again. He at least needed to patch the roof soon. It was getting into storm season.

He had no choice. He said "Let's get the game over with."

He shuffled his deck again. Gunter could usually tell when Football was letting him win, so Simon would have to make it look convincing. He only had one chance at this. If Gunter caught him, Simon would never be able to lose on purpose again. Gunter could be very perceptive when he had a reason.

Simon couldn't act nonchalant when he lost, and he couldn't get too upset. The line was somewhere below bursting into tears and having a Viking funeral for his dead cards, but how far below? Only just?

When it came to setting the game up, Simon looked at his cards, wrinkled his forehead, then picked them at random. He ended up with a cornfield, a space station, tundra, and a pre-war city, all in a row. His creatures were made up entirely of pigs. He noticed Gunter looking at his setup with confusion, and smiled at him.

Gunter glared, apparently convinced that he some kind of strategy. That was good, but it wasn't enough. Simon had to figure out exactly what his fake strategy was.

He had pigs... and a cornfield. Obviously you got some sort of bonus for letting pigs eat your own corn! But only if they could get into space afterwards. At the poles, where the gravity was weaker. Or was that stronger? It didn't matter, Gunter wouldn't know which it was either.

For the purposes of the game, it was weaker. Also you needed a spaceport to launch the pigs into space. That was what the city became when you combined it with the space station. And once the pigs were in space--

A tiny clone of Gunter slapped him in the face, bringing him back to reality.

"Simon, stop stalling and play the game." Gunter sounded like he was losing patience.

"Oh, yeah, right," said Simon. "I floop the pig. This pig."

He pointed to one of the pigs in his cornfield. He flooped it, and the pig stayed where it was, eating all Simon's corn.

Gunter laughed. "The pig's not going to want to come over to my side! You've crippled yourself!"

Simon folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. "All part of the plan."

"Hm..." Gunter frowned at his cards. "I'll pass this turn."

"What?" said Simon. "Come on, attack me! I'm wide open here!" He spread his arms.

"Now I am definitely going to pass," said Gunter. "Not falling for your mind games. Not this time."

"Uh..." Simon looked at his collection of pigs. "Oh darn. I mean, bat grass sky streets quadratic formula!" It was hard to come up with replacement curse words when he wasn't actually upset. "My plan fell apart!" Was is safe to make a horrible move? Would Gunter believe it was because he was angry? "I activate the pig to fight your..." He checked Gunter's setup quickly. "Your Husker Knights!"

He couldn't believe Gunter was trying the same strategy three times in a row.

The pig got slaughtered, of course, and Gunter mumbled to himself. Now Simon just had to get rid of his five other pigs.

Somehow.

On his turn, Gunter moved all his creatures indoors. "I don't know what you're trying to do, but I don't like it!"

Gunter's creatures couldn't kill the pigs if they were indoors. It was going to be a long game.

Pig sacrifice actually was a viable strategy for victory, and maybe Gunter knew that, but you needed at least one deity in play, preferably on your opponent's side, and a couple of Rune Carrots. Surely Gunter could see that Simon had no Rune Carrots.

Simon was getting hungry. Hungry for something other than green soda and chips. He thought about the leftover lamb roast in the icebox, and licked his lips.

Gunter looked at Simon over his cards, and said "Your move."

Simon desperately read his cards. What if Gunter caught on in the hours it would take for the pigs to break down his defenses? He couldn't spend the rest of his life playing Card Wars. "Aha! I move all my pigs to the space station!"

The pigs waddled over to the space station, went blue one by one, and suffocated.

"Aw, darn!" said Simon. "I forgot to equip them! With space helmets! Can't go into space without space helmets!" He held the space station card up so that Gunter could see it. "I guess you're the winner."

Gunter jumped onto the table. "Hah! I knew I'd win! Couldn't stand up to my corn, eh? Your pigs are no match for my raw power."

It was hard to pretend to be upset when he was so relieved. "Aw, math... balls!" Simon threw his cards to the ground.

Gunter got up in his face. "How's it feel? You can cry. It's okay. I won't judge."

"I'm just glad we're still friends," said Simon sincerely.

Gunter burst out laughing. "Simon, you are so corny sometimes."

Simon chuckled and said "I guess you're right about that."

Chapter Text

The Year of the Dog
February

"Ready, guys?" said Bonnibel, holding the new type of gun she'd invented at her side.

"I'm ready," said Gunter. He put out a few more bowls on the edge of the boat lookout. "Are you ready?"

"Yeah," said Bonnibel, smiling. "But are you?"

"I-I'm ready!" Simon announced, then wished he hadn't said anything. That wasn't funny or clever or anything. He'd been imagining leaning his head on Bonnibel's shoulder while she put her arm around him, and now it was all he could think about. He jiggled the bowl of fruit he was holding, but it didn't help.

"Uh... Good," said Bonnibel. "Eins, zwei, go!"

Simon and Gunter started throwing fruit into the air, and Bonnibel hit every one with her invention, dehydrating them instantly. The powder fell into the bowls they'd laid out, with a different colour to each bowl.

Simon tossed a peach straight up. Bonnibel shot it, and the powder fell into the bowl on the other side of the boat, with the rest of the peach powder.

"Throw wide!" Simon told Gunter. How was she doing that?

Gunter threw a banana off the side of the boat, and without looking around, Bonnibel shot at it. The yellowish powder flowed back up into the banana bowl.

How was Simon supposed to ever get over his crush when she did things like this? She wasn't interested. If something was going to happen between them, it would have already happened. He thought of himself as being pretty smart, and there was no excuse for not facing facts.

But sometimes he wondered what it would be like if she was interested, and then he couldn't think of anything else no matter he did.

"Simon," said Gunter.

"Whazzat?" said Simon. Even thinking about thinking about her was making him space out lately.

Gunter waved his flipper in front of Simon's face. In his other flipper, he held the dehydrating gun. "Hello? Mission control? We have a comatose human boy here." He pointed the gun at himself. "I wonder how this thing works." He pulled the trigger.

"Gunter, no!" said Simon, gesturing at the bowls of lifeless powder.

The gun fired, and Gunter clicked his beak. "Huh. Bit... bit dry."

Bonnibel took the gun off him. "It's okay. I calibrated it so it won't work on living beings."

"You don't want another Floating Gems incident, huh?" Simon blurted out, hoping to impress her with his knowledge of her work.

"Floating Gems?" said Bonnibel. She turned to face him with a frown. "Simon, how do you know about that?"

He didn't exactly know about it. He just knew what it was called and that it had caused people to transcend their physical forms. "I... overheard you talking about it. To Jumping Spider."

"Simon, in the two years we've known each other, I've mentioned it once," said Bonnibel. "It was three in the morning, Jumping Spider and I were in my lab, and the door was locked."

Her tone was icy, and Simon could see that his comment had backfired. But why wasn't she flattered? He would have been. "I-I was under the table."

Bonnibel gave him a strange look, and said "I gotta go change my locks."

She was gone before Simon could figure out whether to apologise.

He'd upset her, and he hated that he'd upset her, but he liked to know what he was apologising for. Maybe she was the one being unreasonable. He would have loved it if she'd taken 48 hours out of her schedule just to check up on him. He was usually pretty good at figuring people out, but he didn't get this.

"Um," said Gunter. "Yeah. Wow."

Simon turned around. Gunter was staring at him, with the gun back in his flipper. "What? What did I say? Why is she so mad?" He'd wanted to know more about her, and hiding in her house worked even better than going through her garbage.

"Y-you do realise you admitted to spying on her?" said Gunter. He rubbed his flippers together nervously. "Invading her privacy?"

"I wasn't spying!" Simon protested. "I just wanted to... know more about her. You know. Reconnaissance." He folded his arms. "It was a compliment, Gunter. I hide in Marceline's castle all the time."

"Okay," said Gunter. He climbed onto the railing of the boat and put a wing on Simon's shoulder. "But, listen, what if someone -- someone other than Marceline -- what if someone tried that on you?"

"I'd be flattered!" Simon insisted. He thought about Bonnibel hiding under his table, or even his bed. She never would, but it was a nice thought.

"Okay," said Gunter. "J... Just let me rephrase that, then. What if... Jumping Spider tried that on you?"

"Uh..." Jumping Spider was a good person, but Simon didn't want him in their house without at least an invitation. "That's different. I don't..." He wasn't obsessed with Jumping Spider. He was a nice person, but Simon didn't really want to date him, and not just because he was practically thirty. "Oh."

He really was a bad person.

Simon stood up. "I'm gonna go take a shower." He didn't deserve a shower, but he still wanted one.

He'd thought she'd be flattered.

 

Gunter waited until the water had been running for a few minutes, then knocked on the bathroom door. "Simon? You okay in there?"

Simon mumbled something too quiet to hear over the water.

"Beg your pardon?" said Gunter.

"I said no!" Simon yelled. "I'm not okay! I hurt Bonnie real bad this time."

"Yeah, what's her problem, anyway?" said Queen Marceline's voice from behind Gunter.

Gunter jumped, and spewed out a clone that tried to indicate with its eyes that now was not the best time for her to be hiding in their house. He couldn't know how Simon would react after today.

"You didn't know it was wrong," said Gunter, hoping that Simon hadn't heard anything. "Look, I'm sure if you just apologise--"

"I hurt her because I... I'm in love with her. I'm just gonna keep hurting her!"

Gunter rubbed his forehead. There was no sign of Marceline, and he hoped that she really had left. "Simon, no. You made a mistake. Everybody makes mistakes. I mean, I nearly flash-dried myself. Remember that?" Sometimes people told him to think more about what he was doing, but he wasn't dead yet, so he didn't see the need.

Simon didn't reply, and Gunter tried to think of something better. He knew Simon's crush on Bonnibel was getting unhealthy, but Simon knew that too. There was no need to remind him. All Gunter could do was try to stop Simon from worrying so much about things that had already happened. He'd thought Simon would eventually grow out of his worrying problem, but it actually seemed to be getting worse.

"You... you know what?" said Gunter eventually. "You should find another love interest. Take your mind off Bonnibel for a bit, eh?"

Simon mumbled something, then yelled "Gunter, I don't need a girlfriend! I need to stop thinking about Bonnibel!"

"And what better way to go about it?" said Gunter. "T-Just take it from me. I'll set up with someone exactly your type, anyone you want, and you'll forget all about her. Works every time." There was nothing like reciprocated love to make you forget about the painful kind.

Simon muttered something.

"Sorry?" said Gunter.

"I said how would you know!" Simon yelled. "You... You're dating fifteen-seventeenths of Uuu!"

Gunter rubbed under his beak. It was worse than he'd thought. Simon had a temper, but he usually didn't lash out like this. "Not that many."

"Sure, I'll take your dating advice!" yelled Simon. "How much child support do you owe again?"

"Er... none," said Gunter. Did Simon really think he was that irresponsible, or was he just being nasty? He was probably just trying to start a fight because he was miserable. "None at all."

"Shut up!" Simon screamed. Something crashed against the wall.

Gunter sat and waited for him to calm down.

After a while, the water slowed to a trickle. "Gunter?" said Simon in a small voice. "Are you still there? I'm sorry."

"It's okay, it's okay," said Gunter. "Listen. How about some music? To make you feel better?"

The only sound from the bathroom was the dripping of the shower, which Gunter took as agreement. He didn't want to leave Simon alone yet, so he used a clone to retrieve his keyboard from the main room, plugged it in, and started to improvise a simple melody.

Soon, Simon joined in. Gunter was pleased, until he heard what Simon was saying.

"I'd rake the world over the coals
If it would make you happy
I'd condemn a million souls
If you'd smile at me
If I thought I'd earn your love
I'd kill you"

Gunter hit a wrong note and stopped. That wasn't true. Simon had to know it wasn't true.

Simon kept singing.

"I'm not a good person
I'm not a hero
I'm just stuck to you
I'm stuck to you
I'm always stuck to you"

Simon stopped singing, and shower came back on. Gunter stood up, went into the living room, and packed away his keyboard.

He'd read nearly a whole book on mental health once, and Simon clearly came under At Risk. He had to find Simon a new love interest, for both their sakes. He knew it would help, no matter what Simon really thought of his advice.

All he had to do was find a kid of around Simon's age, who was available, and who was Simon's type.

What was Simon's type, anyway? He'd gone straight from thinking kissing was gross to practising on pictures of Bonnibel when he thought Gunter wasn't looking. For all Gunter knew, Simon only liked candy women who were too old for him and lived in caves.

He grabbed the side of his head. Simon did that sometimes. Maybe it would help Gunter think as well.

Okay. A lot of people only ever liked one gender, so he should play it safe and stick to girls. Simon was smart, and Bonnibel was even smarter. Gunter needed to find a smart girl in her early teens, which might be a problem. He knew some pretty intelligent white collar criminals from the old days, but going down that route would do more harm than good, especially with Simon.

He wasn't getting anywhere with this line of thought. Why else did Simon like Bonnibel? He'd told Gunter how dignified she was a few times, usually after she'd gone days without sleep or changing her clothes. He probably liked dignified girls.

That was easier. You couldn't throw a shuriken in Uuu without hitting some sort of monarch or other. After a few minutes of searching, Gunter located this year's copy of Princesses of Uuu down the back of the couch.

There had to be a princess Simon's age somewhere.

 

The water was starting to run cold, but Simon didn't move. So it was a bit chillier. It was no more than he deserved for hurting Bonnibel, and for being so nasty to Gunter. Gunter had been trying to help.

The water went completely cold, and before he realised what he was doing, he'd jumped out and wrapped himself in three towels. He couldn't stay under that in February, no matter how bad he felt. Or July.

He turned off the water, put on his clothes and glasses, tied his bowtie, wrung out the towels, and dried himself off. Then he inspected the shower drain for hair, checked the walls and floor for rot, made a mental note to buy more toilet paper, and wiped a tiny smear off the mirror.

When he couldn't put it off any longer, he went into the living room. Gunter was nowhere to be seen, and Simon didn't know if he was disappointed or relieved. Had Gunter really forgiven him? What good did apologising ever do anyone who'd been wronged? Gunter didn't deserve a brother like Simon.

He'd just sat down and got into a book about the Muscle succession crisis of five hundred years ago when Gunter came in through the front door, looking out of breath, but not upset.

Simon swallowed. "Hi, Gunter." He marked his place in the book and put it down.

"Reading a book, eh?" said Gunter, too brightly. "How would you like to go on a trip out to the Ocean Kingdom?" He held out two vials. "I bought us water breathing potion!"

"In winter?" said Simon. He glanced out the window. It was snowing lightly, although the western sky was clear.

"Look at that, it's practically spring!" said Gunter. "In... In Australia."

"It's nearly fall in Australia," said Simon. Or it would have been a thousand years ago. Gunter's species was native to the southern hemisphere. He should have known that.

"There you go then!" said Gunter. "Got to make the most of these summer months!"

Simon had no idea what he was up to, unless he was planning to take Simon to the Ocean Kingdom and then abandon him, which now that he thought about it, wasn't something Gunter would do, and wouldn't work anyway. "Gunter..."

"I hear the Ocean Kingdom has a great library..." Gunter added slowly.

Simon had heard that too. He'd heard it was the biggest collection of underwater books in Uuu. He'd heard that a lot of underwater books never made it out of the ocean. He'd heard that there were some great thinks who'd spent their entire lives underwater.

Could he really give up this opportunity just because it was cold?

He stood up. "I'm gonna get changed."

"But what about the boo--"

Simon looked around. "Into my diving gear, Gunter."

 

"Gunter!" Simon tried to focus on the black and white blob in front of him. He kept thinking Gunter was further ahead than he was. It was hard to judge distance in all this blue. "Gunter, wait up!"

He kicked harder. He was a strong swimmer for a human, he'd had to be to keep up with his family, but Gunter was more comfortable in the water than out.

Gunter looked back and began swimming in a circle, waiting for Simon to catch up. He made it look easy. "Taking your time, Simon? Appreciating the scenery?" he said, in a completely clear voice. It was a side effect of the waterbreathing potion they'd taken. Something about frequency matching or something. Simon had been meaning to look into it.

"Shut up, Gunter," said Simon. The scenery was nice, though. Dirt and seaweed below, a shimmering surface dotted with small chunks of ice above, and blue in the middle. Not much variation except for the occasional tip of a skyscraper poking through the dirt, but not something you got on land.

"Don't worry, we're nearly there," said Gunter, swimming off again. He kept his speed down, so he was probably telling the truth this time. As much as he liked to race ahead in water, they usually arrived places at the same time.

They passed over a hill, and into a valley covered in vague of splotches of colour. At first, Simon thought they'd stumbled onto some kind of subarctic coral reef, but as they got closer, he saw that it was a town. It was arranged in a circular pattern, with green, waving houses on the outskirts, and more colourful and solid looking buildings in the centre. Strangely, the town was not walled. He guessed walls wouldn't do much underwater.

Gunter looked back at Simon and said "Here we are. Underwater Kingdom. They know me here."

"I-Is that a good thing?" said Simon. Gunter had claimed that he'd spent a lot of time in the Ocean Kingdom, but Simon had trouble believing it. They were pretty far out, and even Gunter couldn't hold his breath forever.

"Oh, stop worrying," said Gunter. "This'll be fun!"

They swam over a market thronged with starfish and sea cucumbers, dodged a school of human sized fish wearing "fun swim" shirts on their upper bodies, and touched down in the centre of the kingdom, next to a giant isopod with a cart.

Gunter held up his flippers. "Two drinks of your finest kelpshakes, Zhacks."

Zhacks scowled, and responded in an accent so thick that Simon could barely understand him.

Gunter laughed too loud. "Oh, that's Zhacks! Always, always joking around." He gave Zhacks some money.

Zhacks scooped some green stuff from the cart into two plastic cups, and gave them to Gunter with another surly, unintelligible remark.

"Oh, and Zhacks," added Gunter, as he handed one of the cups to Simon. "Do you know where the library is? It's... It's been a while. Since I've been down here."

Zhacks pointed behind them with three of his arms. "Vet ooi. Yin parlarsev."

"That's great!" Gunter laughed. "Come on, Simon!"

He offered his flipper to Simon, and Simon took it. With his other hand, Simon dipped a finger in the green stuff Gunter had bought him, put his finger in his mouth, and made a face. The kelp shake was slimy, and almost painfully salty. Did people really pay money for this down here?

Gunter swam for the largest building in the kingdom, which was made of colourful shells that shimmered in the sunlight.

Simon shielded his eyes. "Is that the palace?"

"Of course it is!" said Gunter. "Weren't you listening to Zhacks?"

Simon looked blank.

"Don't tell me you can't understand his accent," said Gunter, laughing again. "He's from the bathys. They all talk like there, every last one of them."

"Let's just find this library, okay?" said Simon. He was getting sick of Gunter's superior big brother act.

Simon couldn't see an entrance on this side of the palace, and he expected Gunter to swim around to the other side. Instead, he went straight up, towards the roof.

The entrance was a flat double door on the roof of the building, guarded by four menacing looking mersharks, or sharkmen.

Simon might not have been able to understand the accents of giant pill bugs from the... deep ocean, if his knowledge of ancient Greek was correct, but he knew where the term mermaid came from. Mer meant sea. Mershark just meant sea shark, and every shark was a sea shark.

Except for landsharks, of course. And those winged sharks from low Earth orbit they'd encountered that time.

Anyway, mershark was an inaccurate and misleading term, and Simon was ashamed that he'd even thought it.

"State your business," said the beefiest sharkman.

Gunter laughed and playfully hit him on the shoulder. "It's just me, back again."

The sharkmen looked at him impassively.

"We're here to visit," said Gunter quickly. He gestured at Simon. "He wants to see that amazing library you have."

Another sharkman opened the door and waved them in. Gunter tried unsuccessfully to hide his relief from Simon, and Simon wished he'd just admit that he wasn't as known in the Ocean Kingdom as he pretended.

The door led into a vertical shaft, with sloping passageways branching off it at seemingly random places. Simon had trouble keeping his bearings, especially when the doors shut behind them.

"Hey Gunter, who rules this kingdom?" said Simon, his hand on his chin as they descended. "Was it a king, or a princess?" It was definitely one of the two, but he'd forgotten which.

Gunter laughed and said "Who knows?" He continued to laugh as they sank down. "Who can tell? Oh, you know what, here's the library." He pointed to a passage several body lengths down, with "LIBRARY" written above it. "Have fun! I am just going to go... explore... around here... somewhere..."

Simon frowned. "Okay." Maybe he was wrong about why Gunter was acting so weird. Maybe he'd really got to him earlier.

Gunter rocketed down at full speed, and Simon swam to the passageway and tried the smooth granite door at the end. It was locked.

"Rats..." He'd been looking forward to this. It wouldn't have surprised him if Gunter hadn't checked whether the library was open to the public, but then why hadn't the isopod or the sharkmen said something?

He braced himself against the wall and ran his fingers over the keyhole, wondering if locks worked the same as they did on the surface. After looking around to make sure nobody was watching, he got out his lockpicks and felt around with a half diamond pick.

The resistance felt odd, probably because of the water pressure, but there were definitely pins in there. He looked around again, and slid in the torsion wrench. He wasn't used to the way the pins moved underwater, and he had to start again a few times, but he soon got the hang of it.

Simon turned the lock and opened the door. "Holy lettuceballs," he whispered.

The library was cavernous, and lined with books. He floated to the closet shelf and looked over the book spines. They all had titles like "Subgeological Beings: Crustacean or Talpid?" and "Expedition to the Hadal Zone". He decided to skip this section for now. He'd had enough of underground monsters that might someday rise and kill them all for at least the next few years.

He swam over to a group of shelves lying on the floor at the centre of the room. At first he thought they'd been knocked down, but they fit perfectly into the grooves on the floor. Many of books on that shelf had titles in esoteric scripts that Simon barely recognised, but a few were readable. "Ah, the magic section!" This looked more interesting.

He saw a movement out of the corner of his eye, and looked around to see what might be a tail disappear around a standing shelf. "H-hello?"

The water absorbed his voice before it could bounce off the walls.

Simon looked over the top of the shelf, but he couldn't see anything. He put it out of his mind and went back to the magic books, looking for ones he could read without difficulty. There was one about trans-dimensional spirit convergence that looked interesting, and another about emotional space-time manipulation. In the end, he stacked ten books on top of each other, and pushed off towards a table near the corner.

As soon as he started swimming, the books swayed under the force of the water, and floated to the floor. After a few attempts, Simon gave up and just took them to the table one by one. When he was finished, he sat down and opened a book about the writer's experience spending a subjective hundred years in the infinitely small space between the edges of an interdimensional portal.

It was pretty interesting. Simon took a sip of kelpshake and made a mental note never to let a portal close on him like that.

"Hi!" said someone behind him.

Simon inhaled his drink.

 

The Underwater Kingdom was holding court that day, luckily. Gunter knew that he could have put more thought into this, but it was an emergency. The longer he let Simon stay in a funk, the harder it would be to get him out of it.

The throne room was a large hall that Gunter would have described as airy it if it hadn't been underwater. The room was full of underwater creatures, both half human and completely marine, and there was an octopus playing a pleasant piece on the aquaphone in the corner. The Underwater King himself was a tall, wiry merman with an unusually long, eel-like tail that wrapped around his throne. Behind the throne was a red curtain that seemed somehow out of place.

The sounds of conversation briefly stopped when Gunter entered, then started again. They obviously didn't find him very impressive. He considered demonstrating his powers, but it probably wasn't the time. Maybe later. He approached the throne and cleared his throat.

The Ocean King looked down at him. "Make it quick, air-breather."

Gunter floated up to eye level, noticing as he did that the curtain was made of wool. Wool was rare down here. "Er-- yes. I am here on behalf of Simon the Human, the... viscount of the Grasslands." These royal types refused to even look at you if they didn't think you were also noble, and it wasn't like he was really lying. There was no power structure in the grasslands. Anyone could be noble if they said they were. "Simon asks for the hand of your daughter in date... age."

The Underwater King leaned forward. "How old is he? My daughter will not be dating out of her age range."

"Oh," said Gunter. "He's thirteen. Almost fourteen. Just like your daughter." He looked around the room. "Er... where is she?" The book hadn't had an image, but he couldn't see any thirteen-year-old mermaids. There were a couple of dolphins and a free swimming tunicate that could have been around that age. It was hard to tell, especially with dolphins.

"Oh, she's not here right now," said the King. He smiled. "She's getting to that age when she thinks she needs time alone, I'm sure you know how it is. She keeps saying I can't keep her in the tank forever."

"Tank?" said Gunter.

"Yes, the tank she lives in because of her... condition," said the Underwater King. He pulled the curtain open, revealing an aquarium tank. Inside the tank was what looked like a normal bedroom, with several full bookshelves and a flat screen TV. There was a calendar on the outside with stickers with some of the days marked by stickers, as well as some mirrored writing that Gunter couldn't read.

Gunter laughed. "Ah, yeah, right, that... that tank." Maybe he should have done more than just skim the princess's entry. Research was boring, though. He had to make Simon happy fast, for both their sakes.

"Now, tell me about this Simon the Human," said the King. "Is he a licensed psychologist, psychiatrist, or psychotherapist?"

"Well, he's... he's thirteen," said Gunter uncomfortably. He was beginning to wonder what he was getting Simon into. "He's very smart, likes thinking, likes learning..." All he remembered from the book was that the princess was a bit of a nerd, and that her father was looking into romantic options for her. Gunter didn't see why she couldn't arrange her own relationships, especially if she was so intelligent, but he'd never really understood royalty.

The Underwater King frowned at his hesitation. "And where is he now?" He scanned the room. "Are you wasting our time? Does this viscount of yours even exist? Don't think I don't know who you are, Gunter."

Gunter bit the tip of his flipper. He definitely should have thought this out better. "Oh, yes, he's real, all right." He produced a photograph of the two of them. They were both making stupid faces, but it was the only picture he had on him. "See?"

The Underwater King leaned forward. "Are you sure he's nobility? He looks like some kind of a scrappy hero." It didn't sound like a compliment.

"You know, he likes to go in... incognito," said Gunter. He shrugged. "He's a kid, what can you do. Ask him not to stick out his tongue in the royal portrait? Viscountly portrait..."

The Underwater King seemed unconvinced.

"Listen, Simon is really into the princess," said Gunter. "He... he even wrote her a song!"

He pushed the octopus off the aquachord, cloned himself, and began to play. He didn't have time to improvise a whole serenade on his own, but he hoped Simon wouldn't mind if Gunter borrowed his song about Bonnibel.

"I'd bake the world cinnamon rolls
If it would make you happy
I'd dig you a million holes
If you'd smile at me
If I could just earn your love
I'd, er, takeyouonaromanticcruiseonanunderwaterbrinelake"

Gunter took a breath. The change in structure in the last two lines had nearly tripped him up. He thought he was doing pretty well so far.

I want to be near you
I want to hold you
I'm just overwhelmed
I'm overwhelmed
I'm always overwhelmed
By you

"Hm," said the Underwater King. "What was that? G major?"

"Yeah," said Gunter, confused. He reabsorbed his clones and swam back up to eye level. "Key of G major." At least he seemed convinced by the lyrics.

"One-six-four-five progression?" the Underwater King pressed.

The book hadn't said anything about the king being such a music freak. "Only the verse."

"The most boring of all chord progressions," the Underwater King proclaimed. He laughed and gave Gunter a friendly slap with the tip of his tail. "I love it! Your viscount sounds like a dull boy!"

"What?" said Gunter. It was a common progression, but it hadn't got that way by being particularly boring. He could have just played the root chord over and over. That would have been boring.

"And that chorus!" said the King. "Brilliantly cliched!" He produced a long, rolled up list and gave it to Gunter. "I'll allow them one date, under strict supervision. Make sure the viscount memorises these rules before he speaks with her."

Gunter unrolled the list, and it brushed the floor. He tried to read it, and was quickly overwhelmed by information on when the princess should eat, her favourite temperature range, and which water impurities would most irritate her. "I'll pass it onto him," he said weakly.

The Underwater King uncurled himself from the throne and grabbed Gunter in one hand. "Come on, it's time to tell my daughter the good news!"

 

Simon expected to choke, but thanks to the potion, he just... absorbed it. He thought he felt a bit lightheaded, but maybe he was just surprised.

He turned around to see a redhaired mermaid of about his age, looking at him curiously. "You really are a human, aren't you?"

"Uh, yeah," said Simon. He took some deep breathes, hoping to clear his lungs of the kelpshake. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't know there was anyone else in here."

"Well of course, that's cause I hid from you," said the mermaid. "I'm not supposed to talk to strangers." She folded her arms and glared at a shelf.

"Oh... I'm sorry," said Simon. He'd heard of that parenting technique, but he'd never seen it in action on someone who looked his age. Did mermaids just mature more slowly than humans? Humans already matured pretty slowly.

The mermaid swam around him in a circle, apparently fascinated. "I thought you guys were all extinct."

Simon hung his head. "Yeah, pretty much." He'd been to the place his parents said they'd found him so many times, but there'd never been any clues. Maybe he was from that underground fish people city somehow? But how could he have wandered so far away?

He knew he was the last human in Uuu, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to know if he was the last human in the world. If he was, his people had gone a long way downhill since ancient times.

"Hey, what's the matter?" said the mermaid. "Did I say something wrong?" She laughed nervously. "Sorry."

Simon shook his head. "It's okay. It happens all the time." It only happened sometimes, but he didn't want to tell her that. It didn't seem like she was being insensitive on purpose. "Uh... I'm Simon."

"Betty," said the mermaid. She picked up one of Simon's books and made a face. "Ugh. Don't bother with that guy. He thinks you can explain the movement of magical particles with quantum mechanics."

"You can't use quantum mechanics to describe something infinitely small in size!" said Simon. He flipped through the book, which he decided that he already hated. He pushed his hair out of his eyes. There was a breeze in here. An underwater breeze. A current.

"Yeah, I know," said Betty. She pulled a ratty, dogeared book from the bottom of the pile. Simon expected the pile to collapse, but the books just floated down one by one. "Try this one. It's all about magic and emotions. It's good, except the writers think the most potent magical emotion is love." She made a vomiting gesture.

"Heheh, yeah." Simon could believe that, actually. He was beginning to understand how thoroughly love could mess you up. Although...

He abandoned that thought and opened the book, while Betty opened another. "I never read this one," she said, looking at the inside cover. "Precursers to Magical Abiogenesis..." She started reading and fell silent.

Simon was halfway through the introduction of the book Betty had recommended when she spoke again.

"You know, I really thought that door was locked."

Simon laughed nervously. "I-it was definitely unlocked when I opened it." Technically true. He'd had to unlock it before he could open it. He just didn't want this girl to hate him when they seemed to be getting along.

Betty floated to the door. "That's weird. Dad always makes sure no one can get in before he lets me study here." She laughed. "He wanted to post guards, can you believe it?"

Simon had rotated the lock back into place, but he couldn't hide the scratch marks he'd left. Even if Betty didn't see or recognise them, it was wrong to lie about wrongdoing, especially for such a selfish reason. "I did it."

"What?" Betty called, swinging the door on its hinges.

Simon swam over to her and took a deep, salty breath. "The door was locked. I picked it open."

Either mermaids expressed disgust by looking delighted, or Betty wasn't having the reaction he'd expected. "You can pick locks? Wow! Why did you want in here so much?"

Simon indicated the library. "The books. They're... they're one of a kind." The current in here seemed to be picking up, although he couldn't see why. Security measure? He gave up fighting against it, closed the door, and held onto the doorknob.

Betty swam closer. "You're like some kind of nerdy bad boy," she said happily.

Simon tightened his grip on the doorknob as the current pulled him towards her. She didn't seem affected by it at all. "No, no, I'm not. I just... I..." He lost his grip and crashed into her, throwing them both across the room.

"Oh glob, are you okay?" said Betty, when they'd untangled themselves. "I... I'm sorry. That was my fault. I gotta figure out how to control-- I know!" She took his hand, and the current seemed to vanish entirely, though he thought he saw one of the tables shifting slightly.

"What happened?" said Simon. He'd expected her hand to be slimy, but it felt almost normal, except for the webbing.

"It's my stupid powers," said Betty. "I gotta stay calm, or... I don't know what! Dad always says I have to stay calm." She took a deep breath.

"Powers...?" said Simon. Like Gunter? Or was she stronger than Gunter?

Betty closed her eyes, still breathing deeply. Then she opened them and grinned. "I can't believe I ran into someone like you!"

The current increased to something that would have tossed Simon around helplessly if he'd been able to feel it. The door creaked, and the upright shelves began to topple.

"I'll clean that up later," said Betty. "Hang on, Simon!"

Part of the wall collapsed.

Betty and Simon looked at it. "I'll... clean that up later?" said Betty.

The door to the library slammed open. "Betty!" said a long tailed merman with a crown. "What are you doing?"

Betty let go of Simon's hand, and Simon felt the current like a punch in the gut. He grabbed at the first thing in reach, which turned out to be the damaged wall.

"I'm having fun, dad!" Betty yelled at the merman. "You never let me have fun!"

Gunter came in behind the merman and swam for Simon. "Come on, Simon, we have to go!" He grabbed Simon's arm, which was enough to dislodge him from the wall.

"I can't..." Simon began, but the current was too strong for him. He didn't know exactly what was going on, but he was pretty sure it was all his fault. This was what happened when he broke the rules. Powers went out of control, and things got smashed.

The turbulence lessened as they were swept away from its centre. Above them, lightning flashed, lighting up the surface above. It had got very dim up there.

The water spat them into the air and back underwater before either of them could stop it.

"What-- What did you say to her?" said Gunter, when he got a chance.

"We were just talking, and..." Simon's mind was racing. "Was that her dad? Is... Is she a princess?"

Gunter nodded slowly, which was hard with the current whipping them around. "I'm sorry, Simon. I thought..."

They had to go back and make amends, but they couldn't until... until Betty calmed down. "Let's get out of here."

As the current washed them in the direction of the shore, Simon thought about holding Betty's hand.

Chapter Text

The Year of the Gum
August

Simon stepped into a chilly beach at sunset, and turned to look back at the portal. It was sitting in the air, just above a stand of grass. Behind it, the land sloped up into a rolling plain.

"Huh?"

He'd assumed that the Lich's dungeon would be underground, although it was technically possible for a portal to lead anywhere. Strange that nobody had found it before, though. The dungeon was hundreds of years old, and Uuu wasn't that sparsely populated.

Something else was off, too. "Gunter? Finn-Ice?" He and Gunter had entered the portal together, and Finn-Ice had gone in ahead of them. But there was no sign of either of them.

There was a splash, and Betty poked her head out of the ocean. "Hey, Simon."

"Betty?" said Simon. "What are you doing here?" As he spoke, he realised that she was speaking intelligibly in air, without even exhaling water. It was just like her to figure out how to do that and not make a big deal out of it.

Betty swam forward without going back under. There was something odd about her motion. She was too upright. "I didn't expect to see you here either." She walked out of the ocean, and Simon jerked back.

"L-legs," he managed.

Betty looked down at her legs. "I know! Neat, huh? I just figured out how to do it."

Simon stared. She was wearing pants. That was good. The wind was beginning to pick up, and he'd hate for her new legs to get cold.

Betty grabbed his arm. "Hey, Simon, check this out." She pulled him towards the water.

"Wait!" said Simon. He broke out of her grip. "I'm not wearing anything under this!" It was cold enough out of the water. Going under without a wetsuit in this weather was dangerous.

"Neither am I, Simon!" said Betty impatiently. She grabbed him again, and pulled him into the surf.

Simon had been right. It was freezing. "Betty, I'm--" Betty pulled him past waist height, and he shivered. "Hey, what are you--" Betty pulled him past chest height. Then his feet left the ground and it didn't feel cold at all. "Huh?"

"Gotcha!" said Betty. She pushed him under.

Simon swam out from under her hand and broke the surface. There was something wrong with his legs, and yet swimming felt as automatic as walking.

A thought occurred to him, and he looked at his hands. They were webbed. "Betty, did you...?"

Betty popped out nearby. "Yep! I made you a merman. You can breathe out of the air now, like normal people."

Simon grabbed what he still thought of his legs, and sank to the bottom, his hands on something flexible and muscular that was obviously a tail.

He remembered that he didn't need to be holding his breath, and said "Is it-- It's not permanent, is it?" He felt like he should be happy, but being stuck in the ocean was no better than being stuck on land. It was worse, because all his stuff and most of his friends were on land.

Betty followed him, and swam down and away from the shore. "Of course not, ya donk! But come on, Simon, you just got here! Let's hang out a while longer."

Simon remembered why he was there. He was cleansing the Lich's dungeon of its evil. "Okay, but have you seen anything around here that could be a Lich fragment? I'm supposed to be in the middle of a dungeon right now."

Betty thought, then said "Yeah! I did see something like that. Come on!"

She shot downwards, and Simon followed, enjoying his new underwater agility. He could go from a glide to a complete stop in less than a second, and he could change direction practically by thinking about it. He was going to go on so many underwater adventures once he was finished with the dungeon.

They swam into a cave and through a twisty series of tunnels, which Simon had a lot of fun negotiating. The tunnels ended in a small cavern with a snowglobe sitting on a ledge about halfway to the ceiling. The snowglobe swirled with green liquid and black fog.

Betty pointed. "That thing looks crazy evil, don't you think?"

Simon swam down and grabbed the snowglobe off the ledge. It was lighter than it looked. "It definitely has some omnicidal vibes coming off it." He thought he could feel them.

"Simon, you have got to check out this other thing I've been practising," said Betty. She took the snowglobe from him, and frowned at it until it popped into non-existence. "Water pressure."

"Wow!" said Simon. He waved his hand through the space where the snowglobe had been, but he felt nothing. Betty had got really strong lately, and he wondered how this latest power worked.

He was curious about what had happened to Gunter and Finn-Ice, but not curious enough to leave just yet. He could stay with Betty for a while longer.

 

Gunter came through the portal to find himself back outside the tree fort. "What happened to the dungeon?"

"I guess it's some kinda transporter," said Simon, who'd come in ahead of him. He rubbed his chin and added "Must be a phothotaenephic dungeon."

Gunter didn't understand half the things Simon said sometimes.

Queen Marceline came around the side of the house, holding a giant blob. "Hey guys. Look what I found!"

"A giant single-celled organinism!" said Simon, rushing forwards. He poked it. It rippled.

Gunter poked it too, and chuckled. He tried to clone himself to poke it with more flippers, but nothing happened. "Oi! Hey! Magic! Get working!"

Yelling at his magic did nothing.

"Hey Gunter, let me try," said Simon. He closed his eyes and grunted, producing a green, translucent clone of himself. "Neato! I guess I took your powers."

Gunter was impressed. "I had no idea that was even was possible."

Simon spawned more and more clones. "You want them back?"

"Aw, you can keep them for now," said Gunter, waving his flipper. "They look good on you. Er, but, why don't you take it easy on the clones now?" It was beginning to get hard to see with all the Simons around, and Gunter was worried he'd tired himself out.

Simon reluctantly walked one of the clones into his body, reabsorbing it. He laughed. "Man, that tickles." He absorbed some more, until there were only two left.

Marceline came back. Gunter hadn't noticed her leave, but she was back, and she had even more blobs in her arms. She dumped them on the ground.

Gunter ran to poke them. "Simon, why don't you get us some snacks?"

Simon bit his lip. "Okay, but... I don't wanna miss out on all these culosaxeneranii." He stroked one of the blobs.

Gunter took one of Simon's clones by the hand.

"Oooh," said Simon. "Gotcha."

 

Finn-Ice didn't have time to look around before some dog leapt at him and licked his face. He patted it, thinking that this dungeon couldn't be too bad if had friendly dogs just like--

The dog jumped off him, and Finn-Ice recognised it. "Jake?"

It was a yellow bulldog. It was looking up at him and wagging its tail. It was made of flesh and blood, not taffy. It was Jake.

"It is you!" Finn-Ice picked Jake up and hugged him. "I missed you so much, buddy."

Jake slobbered on his shoulder.

Finn-Ice thought he felt himself tearing up, and put Jake down. He didn't need to get stupid and sentimental. He was just relieved that he'd finally found Jake, after he didn't even know how long.

It occurred to him that his memory was back, and that he was thinking more clearly than he had in centuries. His right arm felt numb, and when he looked down at it, he saw why. It was his old, metal one with the pincer grip. He rubbed it. "Weird. What do you think, Jake? Should I keep it?"

Jake jerked his head up and wagged his tail.

"Yeah, you're right," said Finn-Ice, inspecting his arm. "Makes me feel more... human, you know?" The ice powers were all right when they weren't making you yell all the time and stalk your friends, but he missed being human.

He took a look around, at surroundings so familiar he hadn't even registered them. There was the back of his house, half painted white, and half red bricks where his dad had given up for the day and never picked up the paintbrush again. There was the board he'd once tried to nail to the ground. It was nail down, so Finn-Ice turned it over. His mom always said that Jake might hurt himself on it, but she was selling Jake short.

They didn't have a fence for their backyard, just a piece of paper stating how much of the area was their property. It had made it easy to run away, when he'd had to.

It had been easy for Jake to run away, too. But now he was back, and so was Finn.

Finn-Ice picked Jake up, flew onto the roof of the house, and gazed into the valley. The town was small, colourful, and exactly the same as he remembered. It was like the Mushroom War had never happened.

"Finn, what are you doing up there?"

His mom had come into the front yard with a bag of garbage in her hands. She was no more white haired or wrinkled than Finn-Ice remembered. Nothing was.

Finn-Ice waved. "Hey mom!"

"Finn, get down from the roof," said his mom. She put down the garbage bag and put her hands on her hips. "And what is Jake doing up there? He could fall."

Finn-Ice grabbed Jake and flew down to the ground. Before he could land, Jake wriggled out of his grip and greeted his mom by jumping up on her.

"Hey, down, Jake! Down!" said Finn-Ice's mom. She gave up and patted him.

Finn-Ice waited until Jake got bored, and hugged her as well.

"Finn?" said his mom. She hugged him stiffly. "Is something wrong?"

"No, mom," said Finn-Ice, still hugging her. "Everything's... algebraic."

He was home.

 

Simon and Betty snuggled together in a blanket, watching the stars come out.

"Simon, I think I found the north star!" said Betty. She pointed up. "You follow the side of the big dipper, right?"

Simon leaned into the blanket. "Yeah, that's Polaris! Hey, did you know that the Earth's tilt has changed so much since ancient times that Gamma Cephi's closer to the north pole now?"

Betty scanned the sky. "Gamma Cephi?"

"Hm," said Simon. He thought he could see Cepheus's brightest star, Alderamin, but he couldn't make out the rest of the constellation. "I don't think it's dark enough yet."

"Aw," said Betty "Tell me when it comes out, okay?"

Simon hated to do this, but he was still in the middle of a dungeon crawl. "Actually... I better get going. Gotta finish this dungeon."

Betty sat up. "Get going? Why? Don't you want to stay here?"

Simon unfolded the blanket. "Because... I gotta go. I can't just abandon Gunter in the middle of a dungeon. Sorry, Betty, it's unheroic."

He walked down the hill, to the portal on the beach.

Betty followed. "Don't you want to stay here forever?"

Simon turned around. "What?" Even her tone sounded off.

"This place is perfect for us," Betty continued. "Let's stay here until the Lich comes back. "Okay, Simon?"

"What?" said Simon. "What are you talking about?" His girlfriend... the Lich? Nobody liked the Lich. Had the Lich fragment infected her? But he'd touched it too... Was he infected? He didn't feel infected.

She just grinned at him. Like it was a joke they were sharing.

Betty had just happened to be in this dungeon built by a being that could control minds. She'd just happened to have figured out how to breath in air, and let Simon breathe underwater. He still didn't know why she was there, or what she'd been working on. She was just there, smiling at him and making him happy.

He should have seen it earlier, but he hadn't wanted to. The Lich fragment wasn't the snowglobe. It was Betty.

Simon backed away, then ran and jumped at the portal. He bounced off. "Ow! What the bunk?"

Betty tackled him and bit him on the neck. "Stay! Stay here!"

Simon tried to throw her off, but he didn't have it in him. He couldn't hurt Betty, not even a Lich-created facsimile of Betty.

Lich-Betty used his lack of resistance to punch him in the kidneys.

What were the Lich's weaknesses? The gauntlet, but that was gone. And the power of... of liking someone. "Okay!" Simon yelled. "I'll stay here forever!"

"Great!" said Betty. She let him up. "I knew it was what you really wanted! The Lich's gonna be here real soon." She sounded so happy about it.

Simon took a deep breath. He hoped this would work. "I'm gonna stay here because... I-I love you, and just being here makes me want to... go bowling or learn guitar, or write a book, if we do it together. I don't even like bowling!"

"Let's hope you like the Lich th--" Betty began brightly, then doubled over in pain. She looked up at him.

"I... I think I'd be happy if I spent the rest of my life with you," Simon continued, trying his best to maintain eye contact. "All I wanna do right now is help you."

"Just curb that enthusiasm until the Lich..." Betty trailed off. Her skin was beginning to flake off.

Simon swallowed. "I wanna stay with you so much it makes my gut-stuffs tingle." That was true. "But I... I also love the world, and I can't just stay in a fantasy while the Lich destroys it!" That was also true, although he was glad he was the only real person around to hear him say it.

"Simon, help me!" Betty yelled. She exploded.

For a while, Simon stayed where he was, breathing hard. He reached out to the portal, and found it back to normal. He took one last look around at the beach, and stepped through.

He didn't know why he was surprised when the portal came out at a very convincing copy of the tree fort. If the dungeon could create people out of memories, there was no reason why it couldn't create locations as well.

Gunter was having a picnic with what Simon assumed were Lich-created doubles of himself and Marceline, and a large amount of blob creatures. Or was it Gunter who was Lich-created? And... the Simon prodding at the blobs was the real one, and he was just a double who thought he was the real Simon?

Simon decided that he'd worry about that later, and said "Hey, Gunter."

Gunter looked up, and said "Blimey, I never even figured out how to do that!"

"What?" said Simon.

Gunter poked Simon in the chest. "Solid, too."

Simon smacked his flipper away. "Gunter this is a Lich illusion and we gotta get out of here before..." Before what? Lich fragment Betty had mentioned the Lich coming back, but that didn't make sense. They'd thrown the Lich into the sun. Not even it could return from that.

Gunter looked at the fakes of Simon and Marceline, who were staring at them wordlessly, and back at the real Simon. "Are you sure? You're not using your powers to prank me, are you?"

"What powers?" said Simon. "Gunter, listen. Those guys are fakes. They're gonna pretend they're really me and Marcy, but don't be fooled--"

Marceline changed into her bat monster form and rushed them.

"Wowsers!" said Simon, throwing himself to the ground. He looked up in time to see the fake version of himself clone himself like Gunter and tackle him to keep him down.

"I'll kill you!" yelled fake Simon.

Simon struggled, and wondered if his voice really got that high-pitched when he was angry. He couldn't move, but he could just see out of the green pile of himselfs.

Lich Marceline had Gunter in a bear hug, and Gunter wasn't growing out of it. Had the fake Simon taken his powers somehow? How did that work, exactly? Was it more than an illusion?

Another Simon clone tackled him, blocking off his view.

"How do we get out of here?" Gunter yelled.

Oh yeah. Simon had to stop getting distracted in the middle of fights. "We use the Lich's one weakness," he called. He took a breath to continue, and a clone elbowed him in the back of the head and slammed his face to the ground.

"Of course! Music!" said Gunter. He began to whistle.

Simon spat out grass and dirt. "No, l--" The pressure lessened as the clones stared blink ingout of existence. Simon briefly wondered if losing the clones was hurting the fake version of him the way it would hurt Gunter, before deciding that he didn't care. "I guess that works too."

He managed to lift his head and look out of the pile. Fake Simon prime was staggering near the front door, and fake Marceline had released Gunter and collapsed on the ground. Simon crawled over to the blob creatures and smacked one of them experimentally. He liked the sound, so he drummed on them to accompany Gunter's whistling. He kept his eyes on the blobs. He didn't want to see himself and Marceline die like Betty had.

He kept drumming until Gunter stopped whistling.

"I am liking Lich Land so far," Gunter commented.

Simon looked up. There was no sign of the fakes. He kept the blobs in his sight in case they attacked them too, and said "Let's go find Finn-Ice."

The first thing Simon noticed on the other side of the portal was the low rumbling noise, so low that he could feel it more than he could hear it.

"What is that?" said Gunter.

They looked around. They were at the back of a half-painted, old-fashioned house, near the edge of a forest. There was nothing in sight that could make that kind of sound, which Simon thought was a bit like an engine.

He looked up, and spotted the source of the rumbling. "Holy mother of Glob! Gunter, look! A plane!"

Gunter looked up as well. "Er... Yes?"

"Airplanes don't exist anymore, Gunter!" said Simon. "Have you ever seen a working plane?"

"Someone must have reinvented jet fuel!" said Gunter, still looking at the sky.

Simon shook his head. "This is Finn-Ice's fantasy, right? He was born before the Mushroom War!" Or so the tapes had lead him to believe. Finn-Ice himself didn't seem to remember anything about the antebellum period. Simon had quizzed him about it more than once.

"And he was a fan of aeroplanes!" said Gunter. "Of course!"

Simon was about to explain when he heard panting and talking, and a boy and a dog emerged from the woods. The boy had a bear hat with two strands of blond hair framing his face. His right arm was made of metal. He was staring at them. Then he said "Oh, hi guys!"

"Finn..." said Simon. He'd guessed the time period, but he hadn't expected this. He hadn't felt this mix of sadness and shock since he'd first found out that the crazy, dog-napping wizard had once been a human boy like him.

"Dude," said Finn-Ice. "Use my wizard name. It's cooler." He chuckled to himself.

He was speaking calmly, in his less raspy human voice, but obviously his personality hadn't completely changed. "You... remember?" said Simon. He didn't know if he was asking if he remembered who he'd been, or who he was. He sounded so... normal.

"Yeah, I got mad memories of the whole thing," said Finn-Ice casually. "Hey, let me show you guys around my house."

They followed him inside. Gunter said "So... Finn-Ice reinvented jet fuel, and discovered the fountain of youth. Am I on the right track here?"

"We're in the past," whispered Simon. "Uh, I mean, an illusion of the past." He had to keep reminding himself that it wasn't real. It had to be Finn-Ice's memories, like the tree fort had been Gunter's memories.

"I got friends over, mom!" Finn-Ice called, leading them into a perfect replica of a pre-war living room. The television was playing some cartoon that must have been lost in the war, because Simon had never heard of it.

A blonde woman entered the room, gave Gunter a strange look, and said "Oh, hello. If you boys need anything, I'll be in the study."

She left, and Finn-Ice said "That's mom. She's... she's my mom. Oh! Check this biz out!" He flicked the light switch on and off. "Cool, huh? That's called electric light."

"Uh..." said Simon. "Yeah, great." Electric light had been reintroduced to Uuu centuries ago.

He and Gunter looked at each other. Finn-Ice was not going to take the truth well.

"Hey, let's go into town when dad gets home," said Finn-Ice, pointing out the window. "They gots a library, oh yeah, and a smoothie place. You like smoothies, right, Gunter? Me and Jake used to drink there all the time."

Jake barked. He looked a lot like Finn-Ice's taffy dogs back home -- in the real world, but fluffier and more robust. He moved like he had a real skeleton under all that yellow.

Simon looked into Finn-Ice's smiling face, and said "Listen, Finn..." Time to get this over with.

Finn-Ice cleared his throat meaningfully.

"I mean, Finn-Ice," said Simon.

Finn-Ice cocked his head.

"I mean Finn-Ice, prince of ice and lord of swollen musculature," said Simon. Finn-Ice seemed to accept this, so Simon continued. "This is an illusion. None of this is real. The Lich has you in its brain-goo claws!"

Finn-Ice laughed. "Simon, Simon, Simon. You sure have a lot to learn about this century." He tapped the top of the TV. "This is what we call 'television'. It's not really here. It's just a cartoon, see?" He poked the screen.

"Oooh," said Gunter. He poked the screen too. "That's retro-futuristic, that is."

Simon forced himself to keep his temper. Even when Finn-Ice wasn't an idiot, he was still an idiot. "I know what television is. I mean... this!" He indicated the room. "All this! It's a Lich-illusion! We gotta get out of here while we still can!"

Finn-Ice looked out the window, all around the room, and inside Jake's mouth. "Nope. Don't think so. All real!"

"You sure?" said Gunter. He pointed at a small grate in the ceiling. "That thing up there cannot be real."

"That's just a vent, Gunter," said Simon. He suspected that the system it was hooked up to was a lot more complicated than real world vents, though.

"Yeah," said Finn-Ice. "For heating, and junk." He frowned for a fraction of a second, then brought back his smile with a noticeable effort.

Jake walked to the door, then turned and looked back at them.

"I think Jake wants to go out," said Finn-Ice. "Come on, Jake, let's go find a couple non-existentialists." He took Jake out to the back door.

Simon followed him. He was tempted to explore the pre-war house, but it probably wasn't an exact reproduction, and he didn't want to get confused. "Don't you think it's weird that we were just in an underground dungeon? How we did get up here?"

"We came through a portal," said Finn-Ice. "Silly." He pulled a throwing disc from his backpack, and threw it into the woods. Jake raced after it.

"The Lich is known for illusions and mind-manipulation," Simon pressed. He knew Finn-Ice hadn't been this stupid while he was sane, and he didn't seem stupid now. In denial, maybe.

Jake came out of the woods holding the throwing disc in his mouth, and Finn-Ice said "Sure, but you know what he's also known for?" He reached into his backpack, took out the crown, and put it on his head. "Remember when you said--" He put on a nerdy voice that only slightly sounded like Simon-- "The Lich can't mind control you if you have a gem on your head." He went back to his normal voice. "Well, I believe you, dude."

Simon looked into his eyes for any sign of diminished mental capacities or general insanity.

"What?" said Finn-Ice. He looked around to see what Simon was looking at. "Do I got something in my eye?" He rubbed his eyes, then punched himself in the face. "Is it gone?"

Simon forced himself to stop staring. Even with the crown, he seemed like a normal, slightly violent human boy, at least from what he'd read about other humans.

"Oh!" said Finn-Ice. He took off the crown. "I get it! You want a turn!" He moved to put the crown on Simon's head.

Simon rolled out of the way and yelled "Get that away from me!" This kind if thing occasionally featured in his nightmares.

Finn-Ice looked at him strangely. "Okay, suit yourself. Weirdo."

Simon made a gesture that he hoped communicated his incredulity at how blase Finn-Ice was being about the artifact that had ruined his life.

"What?" said Finn-Ice. "It doesn't make you crazy here. All it does is give you superpowers. Look!" He put the crown on Jake before Simon could stop him. Jake wagged his tail.

Simon started to speak.

"Wait for it," said Finn-Ice.

Jake sat down, scratched himself, and breathed out a fine, icy mist, which coalesced into the shape of a sub sandwich.

Finn-Ice rubbed the top of Jake's head. "Good boy, Jake!"

Jake bit the sculpture, and whimpered when his teeth came in contact with the ice.

Finn-Ice laughed and took the crown from him, putting it back on his own head. "You can't eat that, boy." To Simon, he said "See? It's not dangerous. This is the reward! We finished the dungeon! There's no Lich Land, my memory-meats just got all jangled up again."

Obviously Simon had been wrong about the gems, but he knew he was right about this. He leaned against the wall of the house, and said "Listen. In my illusion I had to watch my girlfriend explode right in front of me. I know how much you want to think it's real, but--"

"It is real!" Finn-Ice yelled. "Just trust me for once, would ya? This is what I've always dreamed of."

"That's why it's an illusion!" said Simon, frustrated. "Just tell Jake or your mom you wanna leave, and they'll show their true colours!" Their true colours were grey and bright green, probably.

Finn-Ice folded his arms. "You don't get it, Simon. I can't... I can't leave again." He patted Jake on the head.

"You never came back!" Simon insisted.

"Yes I glomming did!" yelled Finn-Ice, and hurled a freezing bolt of magic at him.

The next thing Simon remembered, Finn-Ice was sulkily releasing Simon from the ice while his mom glared at him. Gunter was drinking an ancient soft drink.

"His leg, too," said Finn-Ice's mom.

Finn-Ice melted the ice holding Simon to the ground.

"Mom, he said you weren't real," said Finn-Ice, as Simon hugged himself to restore a bit of warmth.

"Mm, he's got a point there," said Gunter, slurping his soda.

Finn-Ice looked angry for a second, then closed his eyes, breathed, and removed the crown. "Look. You guys. Just let me have this. Even if it's really an illusion--"

"It is!" Simon interrupted. "I saw my girlfriend explode!"

"Uh, you already said that," said Finn-Ice.

"I'm still real broken up about it!" said Simon, who'd been replaying it in his head every time his focus waned. He noticed that Finn's mom was just standing there, not making any attempt to defend her reality. Had Finn-Ice just forgotten about her?

"Uh, but, even if it is an illusion, I'm staying," said Finn-Ice. "I don't wanna go crazy again, guys. There's nothing for me back in the future."

Gunter finished his soda and rolled the can between his flippers. "What about all the real Jakes?"

"This is the real Jake!" yelled Finn-Ice, grabbing Jake.

"If you don't leave, you'll die!" said Simon. "From... starvation, or something! Or... or from the Mushroom War!" The simulation probably wouldn't last long enough to include the war, but it was a possibility.

"Yeah," said Finn-Ice. He frowned. "Maybe. Nobody's gonna miss the crazy old dognapping wizard they all hate." He put Jake down. "Me and Jake are gonna go see who can eat more pre-sliced ham without throwing up. See you guys."

He and Jake went inside. Simon was alone with Gunter, and he wondered what had happened to Finn's mom. He hadn't seen her leave, but now she was gone.

"Did he just tell us to let him die?" said Gunter.

Simon stared at the back door. "I think he did."

"Should we?" said Gunter, after a pause.

"No!" said Simon. "Saving people is what we do!" Better to be crazy than dead. At least if you stayed alive, there was a possibility that things might improve.

Gunter nodded. "Yeah, but if it's really, truly what he wants... Maybe he would be better off." When Simon didn't reply for a while, he added "Just a thought."

Simon ran his fingers through his hair. "He said he'd rather be dead than hated."

"And crazy," added Gunter.

"But I don't hate him," Simon continued. "Do you, Gunter?"

"Well..." Gunter twiddled his flippers. "Define... Define 'hate'."

"Do you hate him?" Simon pressed.

"Er... Not exactly," Gunter admitted. "He's annoying, but he... but it's not really his fault. He just needs someone to help him. I'm not volunteering," he added quickly.

Simon put a hand on his chin. "Let's tell him that. Liking people is one of the ways to defeat the Lich! It should free him from the illusion."

"Okay, you do that, and I'll play us some thematically appropriate music," said Gunter. He took his keyboard out of Simon's bag, cloned himself, and played a dissonant chord. "No, hang on, hang on." He played a mournful sounding chord. "There we go."

Simon opened the back door. "Finn-Ice! Where are you?"

"In the kitchen!" said Finn-Ice.

They made their way through a hall and into a kitchen that looked almost modern. Maybe the appliances were a bit newer and cleaner. Finn-Ice was watching Jake eat slices of ham off the shiny countertop.

"Okay, my turn, Jake!" said Finn-Ice. He grabbed the ham and began eating it slice by slice.

"Finn-Ice, listen," said Simon. "We've been thinking about what you said, and..." He looked around and whispered "Gunter!"

"Oh, right," said Gunter quietly. "One emotional soundtrack, coming up." He began to play.

"Hey, nice playing, Gunter," said Finn-Ice, with his mouth full.

"We've been thinking about what you said," Simon repeated, "and we don't hate you."

"Yeah you do," said Finn-Ice casually. "You said so the time I dressed up as a deer."

Simon couldn't remember saying that, although he could believe that he had. "That was years ago! We get your deal now," he said. "You may be kinda annoying, but... we'd be sad if you died."

Jake started growling at them.

"Hey, what's the matter, boy?" said Finn-Ice. He stroked Jake's back. "Come on, man, he's saying nice things about me." He wrinkled his forehead. "I think."

Jake continued to growl.

Simon did his best to ignore him. "Bonnibel likes you. She's trying to help you. She'll miss you, I guarantee it!" There was no sign of the illusion coming apart yet, and he couldn't tell if he was making Finn-Ice feel liked, or just guilty. They were going to need something stronger. "I... I like you too, okay? Sure, you've done some bad things... And you tried to kill us. But I still like hanging out with you. You... You're pretty fun sometimes." Not often, but sometimes.

Finn-Ice's mom ran in, noticeably pale. "Finn, stop that boy!"

"You too?" said Finn-Ice, looking puzzled. "He's being a nerd, but, like, a cool nerd."

Jake's growling got louder, and he leapt at Simon and sank his teeth into his arm. Simon yelled in pain.

"Jake, Jake no!" said Finn-Ice. He rushed forwards and tried to pry Jake's jaw open. "Down! Get off him!"

"I wanna help you so bad!" said Simon, trying to ignore the pain. At least he wasn't being smothered in clones of himself this time. "And you know what? If a remnant of the Lich can do it, so can someone else!" Jake bit harder, and Simon clenched his fists to keep his mind on what was he was saying. "Even if you're crazy forever after today, you can still be happy! We just gotta help you remember about empathy and social skills and stuff."

Jake fell off Simon's arm, lay on his back, and whined.

Finn-Ice caught him. "Jake? Jake!"

Simon struggled to think of something else to say. Something new. How many ways could he tell Finn-Ice he liked him? He just kept remembered all the times he'd snapped at him, even after he'd learned why he was the why he was. "Gunter, help me out!"

Gunter looked up from his keyboard in confusion, still playing emotional music. Finn-Ice's mom fell to her knees.

Simon gestured at Finn-Ice, who was looking between Jake and his mom frantically.

Gunter rolled his eyes, and yelled "Oi! Finn-Ice! I like you! You're all right!"

That was too much for the illusion, and it broke into a barren plain.

Finn-Ice stood up. He still appeared to be about Simon's age. "Mom?" He looked around. "Jake?"

"I'm sorry," said Simon. He wondered if they'd really done the right thing, then decided that they had. Life in an illusion was no one's happy ending.

Finn-Ice headed for the portal. "C'mon."

Simon stepped through after him, and emerged into a rocky land of green fire and fissures. It was cold, colder than it had been on the beach.

"Oh, dip! Look out!" said Finn-Ice, who'd reverted to his normal old man appearance.

A bony hand emerged from the closest fissure and slammed down, nearly landing on Simon.

A skeletal monster climbed out of the trench. It wasn't quite the Lich, but it had the Lich's horns and glowing green eyes. It was close enough.

"It's the final boss!" said Gunter unnecessarily.

Simon tried his best to assess the situation. It didn't seem to be able to control their minds, or it would already be doing it. It hadn't attacked them as soon as they'd entered the dungeon, even though the illusions were fairly easy to break, so it must have needed them to be in the illusions.

The Lich was direct, and this dungeon had been constructed by the Lich. Surely if it could have, it would have killed them already. It couldn't be at full power. It wasn't the complete Lich. It was just an echo.

"I think we can beat it!" said Simon.

Gunter stared at the Lich echo, which seemed to be sizing them up. "How?"

Simon pulled out his nunchucks and spun them around. "Regular fighting stuff."

The Lich echo shot a gout of green flame out of its mouth, and Simon jumped out of the way. Skeletons were easy when they weren't as powerful as the Lich. Naked bone was brittle and easy to break.

Gunter cloned himself and ran in a confusing pattern, which seemed to be working to distract the Lich. Simon eyed up its shoulder and hip joints, trying to get used to its attack patterns.

Above them, Finn-Ice hurled magic at the Lich, but it didn't seem to be having any effect. He switched to bolts of ice, but they melted before they could hit. "Weak," he said, blowing a raspberry.

The Lich echo grabbed him out of the air. "You're weak," it said. Its voice wasn't quite as menacing as the real Lich's, but it still gave Simon chills.

"Aw, come on, how old are you?" Finn-Ice complained.

Simon used the extra distraction to leap at the Lich remnant's knee, intending to smash at its kneecap, but the Lich remnant batted him away with its free hand.

"If you had any strength, your long life has leached it out of you," the Lich continued, through the ringing in Simon's ears.

"Really?" said Gunter, who had gathered his clones onto the Lich echo's skull to distract it with his tap dancing routine. "And he nearly killed us last week, too."

"I know I'm not strong," said Finn-Ice casually. "Like, in the brain, where it really matters. But at least I didn't give up."

"When you die, it will be all alone, and nobody will care," continued the Lich. "Nobody has liked you since the day your curse began."

Why was the Lich so intent on breaking Finn-Ice down, and only Finn-Ice? It was squeezing him, but it wasn't attacking Simon or Gunter anymore. It hated love. Did it feed off despair?

Then why trap them in idyllic dreams? Had it intended to smash the dreams eventually? Was that what Betty-- Lich Betty-- had been talking about?

Luckily, Finn-Ice didn't seem to be rising to the bait. "Uh, that's not true." He twisted around in the Lich's grip. "Hey, Simon. Was all that stuff you said earlier true?"

"Yep," said Simon. It probably wouldn't have worked if it wasn't true. He didn't want to say it out loud though, in case the Lich contradicted him. He gestured Gunter down. If Finn-Ice could keep the Lich echo busy, they might be able to win this fight.

"See?" said Finn-Ice. "Simon's coming to my funeral."

The Lich squeezed Finn-Ice until he groaned in pain. "Simon will grow old and die millennia before your death. You'll forget him, and you'll forget anyone who ever showed you a speck of kindness. You will outlive your entire kind."

Finn-Ice glanced around at Simon and Gunter, and seemed to realise what they were about to do. He pulled his ice arm out of the Lich's grip, used it to shrug, and said "That's just a worst-case scenario, dude. I got faith in my buds."

Simon looked over his glasses to check his aim, and threw Gunter at the Lich echo. Gunter multiplied and grew in midair, and every clone landed on a joint with enough force to break to the Lich echo into its separate components.

"See?" said Finn-Ice. He flew down to the ground, grinning at them. "Thanks, guys."

As Simon poked the bones to make sure they were dead, a door opened up in a cliff. The closest Gunter clone peeked inside.

"Finally, it's the treasure room," said Gunter.

There were three chests in the treasure room, one for each of them. Simon got a book of brainteasers, Gunter got a baby doll that he was oddly protective of, and Finn-Ice got a heart-shaped gem that fit perfectly into a hole on the inside of his crown.

"Was that hole always there?" said Simon, puzzled. He'd felt the inside of the crown many times, and it had always been smooth.

"Who knows?" said Finn-Ice. He rubbed the gem, smiled, took Simon and Gunter by the arms and lifted into the air. "That was math. Let's do it again sometime!" His face fell. "I'm not gonna remember any of this, am I?"

Chapter Text

The Year of the Flood
August

Simon hated heatwaves. He was always too hot in his normal clothes, and wearing less just made him feel underdressed, without actually cooling him down much. At the moment, he was on a river date with Betty. The water was chest height, and the sun was beating down onto his bare neck and back. He could practically feel himself getting skin cancer through the sunscreen somehow.

The water felt wonderfully cool to him, but Betty was only wearing a tank top, which was a little too big on her. "My people are better than keeping heat in than getting rid of it," she explained. She spread her fingers out. "We gotta do this. See? All the heat comes out there."

He could hear her because she was vibrating the surface of the water to convert the underwater sound to airborne sound. It had taken her more than a year to figure out how to do it, but she'd said it was almost second nature now.

Simon spread his own fingers. "Huh..." It was probably the webbing between her fingers. It looked too thin to retain much heat.

Betty shoved her hands in his face. "Here, feel them."

Simon touched her hands gingerly. "Holy junk, that's warm!" If they hadn't been talking about thermoregulation, he would have thought she had a fever.

Betty laughed. "Humans can't control their blood flow, huh?"

Simon let go of her hand and pointed accusingly. "I've seen you blush!"

Betty blushed, felt her face, and laughed. "I guess merfolk aren't good at it either." She lifted her hands back above the surface. "That's nice. The water's turning into vapour and taking my body heat with it."

"Yeah!" said Simon. He liked it when they got sciencey. "That's why humanoids sweat when we get hot." It wasn't as interesting as Betty's method of cooling down, but it was something.

"Just humanoids?" said Betty. She pulled her hands back underwater briefly. "I thought most land sapients sweat."

"Yeah, but only 'cause humans always did it," said Simon. He raised his hand to wipe the sweat off his forehead, then lowered it. It was gross, but it really did cool him down a bit. "Mostly they got sweat glands when they got human tongue movement, opposable thumbs... and you know."

Betty did seem to know what he was talking about. "Oh yeah, the black rain anthropomorphisation. Did they--"

"Neeeeeeeeerds!" interrupted Prince Finn-Ice from above.

Simon looked up in surprise, shaded his eyes, and yelled "No one asked you!" In the back of his mind, he wondered if Finn-Ice sweated anymore. He didn't seem to be at the moment, despite his low body temperature.

"Your nerdery asked me!" Finn-Ice shout. He looked at his wrist like he was checking his watch. "It says... Oh yeah! It says you guys are big nerds!" He laughed.

Simon climbed out of the river and looked around for a rock or something to throw at him. He should have called himself Finn-Date-Ruiner, because he was so great at that.

"Wait, Simon," said Betty.

Simon waited. Betty was looking at Finn-Ice with her eyes narrowed.

"Let me try something," said Betty. She drew her arm back, and a whip of water extended from the surface and shot up at Finn-Ice. He started to dodge, but the water wrapped around his waist.

"What the-- Hey!" said Finn-Ice. He raised his hands, and the water began to freeze. "Quit that, Simon's nerdy girlfriend!"

Betty raised her own hands, and the ice melted back to water.

Simon watched, fascinated. He'd never seen Betty fight out of water before.

Betty rose up inside a column of water, nearly draining their part of the river, and said "What was that about me and Simon?"

Finn-Ice was still trying to freeze the water, but he couldn't seem to get it more solid than slush. He took a deep breath, leaned in close to Betty, and yelled "Neeeeeeeeerds!"

Betty wrapped the whip further around him. "You're supposed to be a prince. Act like it for once!" She flung him in the direction of the Ice Kingdom, and descended back to the river.

Now Simon was pretty sure that he was the one who was blushing.

 

Simon could smell salt. He was somewhere deep blue, but he wasn't underwater. Betty was there too. She raised her hands and threw water at him. It formed into rope, wrapped around him, and pinned his arms to his sides.

Simon laughed in delight.

Betty wrapped the water down his body until he couldn't move his legs, and upwards until it covered his mouth.

Simon laughed again, loving the sensation of being unable to move. The laugh came out as a bubbling noise through the water over his mouth.

Betty pulled her arms back, pulling him towards her.

Someone said something, but Simon couldn't figure out what. He slowly realised that he was in bed. He was a bit damp, but it was just sweat. He couldn't really move properly, but only because he'd tangled himself in his sheets.

What a strange dream. Simon extracted himself from the sheets and swung his legs over the side of his bed. True helplessness was usually really unpleasant, but in the dream, it had been wonderful. He still didn't know what was so great about it, other than Betty being there.

He swung himself downstairs to find Gunter frying bacon and humming to himself. Simon climbed up the wall a little way, jumped across the room, swung from a branch on the ceiling, and crashed onto the stove. "Gunter, Gunter, I had a really great dream!"

Gunter looked up at him. "Oh, good morning. I'm making bacon soldiers."

Simon slid off the stove, took a plate from the draining board, and looked over the top of Gunter's head. Gunter had cut the bacon strip into the shape of humanoids holding swords and shields. The detailing was impressive.

Simon grabbed some bacon out of the pan and dropped it on his plate, burning his finger. "Ow! Betty was there, and she tied me up with water, and it was really great-- It must have been because she beat up Finn-Ice yesterday!"

Gunter took the rest of the bacon out with a spatula, looking pleased. "Aw, you're growing up."

Simon sat down at the table. "What does that mean?" Dreaming about being tied up by a mermaid was no rite of passage he'd ever heard of.

"Oh, nothing, nothing," Gunter said, joining him at the table. "Listen, do you need any... do you need to change your sheets?"

Simon swallowed his bacon. "Huh?" He guessed he was still half asleep, because he didn't understand anything Gunter was saying this morning.

Gunter avoided his eyes. "Oh, you know," he said. "Y-you're dreaming about water again. You know what happens when you dream about water."

Oh. "Gunter! I haven't wet the bed since I was five!" The Venn diagrams of heroism and bedwetting could never intersect, in his opinion.

"Just... just making sure," said Gunter, staring at his bacon. He snapped his head up. "Oh, let me tell you about my dream! I was in the Cloud Kingdom, except it was in the the forest, right, and Pudding was dancing with Marceline, and then the sky split open, like, literally split open..."

Simon tried to listen, but his mind kept drifting back to that amazing dream. He had to have another one like that.

 

Simon was genuinely interested in the ice melting abilities that Betty had demonstrated. Since it was summer, the only place with significant ice was the Ice Kingdom. Going there made sense. And if Betty and Finn-Ice fought again, then that was just a bonus.

The Ice Kingdom didn't quite extend to the shore, but Betty zeroed in on an indentation in the coast that she claimed had once been a river mouth, and swam into it, melting the ice ahead of them.

The melted river was freezing, and Simon was glad had hadn't skipped putting on a wetsuit when he'd been getting ready in his stifling room.

Betty indicated the water with in intrigued expression. "I gotta keep it like this. It keeps trying to turn back to ice."

"Uh-huh," replied Simon. He scanned the sky. Where was Finn-Ice? Was he out? They were heading in the direction of his castle.

Betty surfaced, dipped her cupped hands in the water, and held them up. Simon glanced at the water, but it looked completely normal to him. Betty let the water drop, and said "Simon, are you okay?"

"Huh?" said Simon. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just..." He looked up again, and saw Finn-Ice emerge from his castle. He grinned.

Finn-Ice headed straight towards them. "Hey, you guys!" he yelled.

Betty waved.

"Someone's donking up my enchantments!" said Finn-Ice. He descended in front of them, looking around with his eyes narrowed. "Keep an eye out, okay?"

Betty hid her smile. She didn't seem inclined to attack him, to Simon's disappointment.

Finn Ice began to rise back into the air. "See ya round, kids."

"I thought you hated him," said Simon to Betty, when Finn-Ice was out of earshot.

Betty shrugged. "He'd be cool if he wasn't cursed. You said his alternate universe duplicate is cool, right? It's not his fault he's crazy."

Normally Simon would have been pleased that Betty was being so understanding, but he'd really been looking forward to having another dream. "Yeah, but..."

"It's not like he insulted us this time," Betty continued.

"Maybe he did!" said Simon desperately. "Maybe he knows it's you and he's making fun of you!" That was possible, but unlikely. Finn-Ice was not a subtle person. But it was possible.

Betty narrowed her eyes. "You think so?" She raised her voice. "Hey! Were you making fun of me?"

Finn-Ice stopped flying and looked down. "Huh? I don't think so..."

"He's playing dumb," Simon heard himself whisper.

Betty raised herself up with the water from the river and grabbed Finn-Ice by the hair. "Quit. It."

"Hey, watch the hair!" said Finn-Ice. He punched at her with his ice arm.

Betty dodged out of the way. He punched at her tail, but she dodged that as well.

Simon watched, smiling, until he remembered why they were fighting.

They were fighting because he'd lied. He'd lied to her for no reason, without even thinking about it.

What was wrong with him?

"Wait! Betty, wait!" Simon yelled.

Betty and Finn-Ice stopped fighting, and Betty said "Huh?"

Simon pushed down the self-loathing and the certainty that he was destined for a life of crime for later, and said "He wasn't making fun of you! I... I just wanted to see you two fight again!"

Betty descended back to the river. She didn't look angry yet. "What? Simon, what are you talking about?"

"I had a dream and it was really great and I think it came from your fight yesterday and I wanted to have another dream," said Simon quickly. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry!"

Betty bit her lip, then said "Okay... I forgive you. Just don't do it again, okay?" She looked up at Finn-Ice, who was still hovering above, and called "Sorry about that!" To Simon, she added "What kinda dream? Was it magic?"

Simon shook his head, not sure how she'd forgiven him so easily. "I don't think so. You, uh, you tied me up in those water things from yesterday. That's all that happened."

Betty pushed some hair out of her face. "What's so great about that?"

"I don't know," said Simon. "I just... I kinda liked it." He shrugged. "Dream logic, huh? Are you sure you don't mind--"

"Look at it like this," Betty interrupted, smiling. "You showed me what it's like to be manipulated. I got a lot to--" Abruptly, a bolt of magic from above encased her in ice.

Simon looked up in shock. Finn-Ice was still hovering above, but now he was grinning.

"Never challenge an ice wizard on his own turf!" said Finn-Ice cheerfully.

"Why did you do that?!" said Simon. He tap the ice Betty was trapped in. It was very solid, and seemed to have knocked her out. "It was a misunderstanding, you glob-dang idiot!" If anyone deserved to be frozen over this, it was Simon, not Betty.

"Yeah," Finn-Ice responded, flexing his organic arm. "A misunderstand-challange. Hey Simon. You wanna roughhouse?"

"No!" Simon yelled. He laboriously pushed Betty downriver. Without Betty's magic to melt it, a crust of ice was beginning to form on the water.

He managed to get back to the ocean just as the ice became too thick to push through, and stopped to catch his breath.

Betty floated in the water, her face frozen in the beginnings of surprise. Now that they were out of the Ice Kingdom, the block was beginning to melt.

Simon waited, rehearsing what he was going to say. He could feel her eyes on him, even though she was unconscious.

Nearly an hour later, the ice was almost gone, and Betty woke up angry. "That son of a man 'o war! He got me while my back was turned!"

Simon forgot how his apology speech was supposed to start. "I-I am so sorry."

"Why are you apologising?" said Betty. "He's the one who froze me!" She gestured angrily in the direction of the Ice Kingdom.

"He wouldn'ta frozen you if I didn't trick you into attacking him!" said Simon. He tried to remember what he'd been planning to say. "I-- they-- I can't-- I never change, and I forgive you-- I mean, I understand if you don't want to go out anymore."

"Look, it's okay," said Betty. She took his hands. "You don't have to apologise anymore. They call me two-chances Betty."

Simon wondered who called her that, and asked the question he should have asked to start with. "Are you okay? You were frozen for a while."

Betty rubbed her arms. "Yeah, I think so. I just gotta put a sweater."

Simon remembered not to apologise, but that just made him feel worse.

 

Simon was cold. He was somewhere blue. It was like his dream. Simon began to smile in anticipation. A rope of water snaked around his arm, but it didn't feel right. It was even colder than he was. He looked at it.

"No."

The rope wasn't made of water, it was ice. Finn-Ice was in front of him, not Betty. Expressionlessly, Finn-Ice threw another rope of ice around his other arm, and began pulling Simon towards him.

Simon dug his heels into the ground. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no..." This wasn't what was supposed to be happening. Where was his girlfriend?

Someone behind him laughed. Simon looked around and caught a glimpse of golden feathers, just before he woke up in bed.

He lay there for a second, glad that it was just a dream. What was that, a guilt dream? He'd had guilt dreams before, but they usually had more talking and accusations in them.

He remembered the feathers, and was suddenly certain that the Cosmic Owl had been there. He'd been in the last dream, too. He was the one who'd said that indistinct thing he couldn't hear.

A prophetic dream, then? If so, it was so metaphorical that he had no idea what it meant. Helplessness in dreams represented helplessness in real life, didn't it? Then what did Betty and Finn-Ice represent?

He got out of bed and went downstairs, where Gunter was sitting at the table and drinking something that smelled like tea.

"Gunter?" said Simon. "I had another dream. Finn-Ice was in it. He tied my wrists with ropes of ice."

Gunter snorted, then laughed out loud. "Can't really say I see the appeal there, but you know." He held in another laugh. "Takes all sorts."

Simon went red. "It was horrible! But the Cosmic Owl was there, so it must have been a prophetic dream. Do you know what it means?" Gunter clearly had some opinion about Simon's dreams that he wasn't telling him.

Gunter choked on his tea, and spawned a clone to hit himself on the back until he stopped coughing. "The Cosmic Owl! Did he say anything? Do anything weird?"

Simon shook his head. "He was just... laughing." The dream had not been funny. "He said something in the first dream, but it was distorted. I couldn't hear him."

"Then you've got to have another dream!" said Gunter. He grabbed Simon by the shirt, climbed on top of his head, and lay on his stomach to look Simon in the eye, "Quickly, write them insulting letters or... or something! Just make them fight! Find out what the Cosmic Owl was going to say! It could be massively, massively important!"

Simon pulled Gunter off his head and put him on the table. "I'm not gonna do that." He felt bad enough about yesterday. But some part of him was glad that he had an excuse to watch another fight. "I'm gonna just ask them."

"You can't, what if they say no?" said Gunter. "We'll never know what he was going to say!"

"Gunter, I'm not gonna manipulate people into hurting each other just to find out a prophecy," said Simon. "You can't just trick people into doing terrible things!" Anything that resulted in innocent people getting hurt was wrong.

"Well..." said Gunter. "What if it was really, really important?"

Simon glared at him. "Gunter, I'm chaotic good. Chaotic good heroes only trick bad people." Assuming yesterday hadn't bumped him down to chaotic neutral.

"Are... are you sure that's really an alignment?" said Gunter.

Simon looked through the pantry for some breakfast. "Yes, I'm sure!" The two axis alignment system was liberating, and he mentally thanked alternate universe Finn for telling him about it.

 

Simon found Betty on a beach near her house, watching a thermometer she'd stuck in the sand just above the water line.

She saw him and handed him another thermometer. "Simon! Good timing! Dry this off and stick it in the sand up there." She pointed at the dry sand further up the beach.

Simon took the thermometer and searched through his bag for a towel. "Uh, I had another dream last night, Betty. Finn-Ice was in it. I hated it." He added quickly, in case she got jealous. Although he didn't see why she would.

"Yeah?" said Betty, her eyes still on the thermometer.

Simon towelled off his thermometer. "Well, the Cosmic Owl was in it too, and I think the dreams happen when you and Finn-Ice fight, so, uh... I was wondering... I need to find out what the Cosmic Owl's saying. So..."

"That jerk?" Betty interrupted, simling. "Yeah, sure, I'll fight him! I wanna know if I can beat him in a fair fight. He looks really strong! I mean... Gotta get those power level data points."

Simon stuck the thermometer in the dry sand, trying not to show his relief. "Great! I'll tell him."

 

Simon crouched behind the snow wall he'd built on the outskirts of the Ice Kingdom, near the beach. This was going to work, he knew it. All he'd had to do was tell Finn-Ice that Betty wanted a rematch, and he'd rushed back to his castle to prepare. Once the battle was over, Simon would have another dream, and he'd finally find out what the Cosmic Owl was going to say. Having another dream was its own reward, but he was trying to downplay that, even to himself. He couldn't trust himself to do the right thing where the dreams were concerned.

The wind was starting to pick up as Simon looked out to sea. It was choppy out there. He didn't know if the snow wall Would protect him very well from the two powerful magic users, but it made him feel safer.

A huge wall of water emerged from the ocean and thundered towards the shore. A bolt from the castle froze it solid, but only for a second. The wave cracked, and water spilled out from it and onto land.

Simon couldn't see Betty, but the water seemed to centre around a shape moving towards the castle. Finn-Ice flew out to meet it. "Too scared to face me from a distance? I mean, uh..." He shot magic at the shape, and something pink and green bobbed up inside a chunk of ice. It took a second, but Simon realised that it was Betty's tail.

"Betty!" said Simon. She couldn't swim with a frozen tail.

Betty yelled something, but Simon couldn't hear her. He could barely hear Finn-Ice, who had a very impressive lung capacity. She launched a wave up at Finn-Ice, and as soon as the spray hit him, he jerked back like he'd been punched.

Finn-Ice yelled something mostly incoherent, although Simon caught the word "witch". He shot ice around blindly until the waves knocked him into the water. He went under briefly, and flew back up faster than Simon had ever seen him fly, disappearing into his castle.

Betty started battering the castle with repeated tsunamis, until it began to crack from its foundations. Simon leaned forwards, trying to see what Finn-Ice would do now, but he didn't seem to be doing anything. It wasn't like him to spend so much time away from the front lines.

The floodwater was beginning to pool against the snow wall. "Betty!" called Simon, but his voice was swallowed up by the wind. "Betty, I think something's wrong!"

Betty seemed intent on cracking the castle. She generated another wave. It didn't break the castle, but it did destroy the snow wall, knocking Simon off his feet. He rolled onto his back and tried to judge whether it was safe to try to reach Betty.

He'd just decided that it wasn't safe when another wave rolled in and knocked him headfirst into something solid.

 

Simon was sinking into the ocean. It was so deep that he couldn't see the bottom. Betty was above him, swimming down and trying to reach him. She looked upset, which was strange, because Simon was glad he was sinking.

"It's okay, Betty!" he yelled, but she didn't seem to hear. "I'm fine! I want this!"

Betty kept swimming down towards him, but Simon was sinking so quickly that she faded out of sight.

It was getting dark. There was still no sign of the ocean floor. He must have been out past the insular shelf.

The water faded to black. It was so dark that Simon didn't feel like he was falling anymore. He felt weightless.

He heard footsteps, and alternate universe Finn emerged from the darkness and stared at him. Simon opened his mouth to greet him.

He felt hot, then burst into flames. He screamed. "Finn!" he managed. "Help me!"

Slowly, Finn put his knuckle in his mouth, half smiling. He stared more intently.

Simon could feel his skin cooking. "Help me, man!"

Behind Finn, the Cosmic Owl swooped towards them, and Simon realised that he was dreaming. He also remembered that being surrounded by fire gave him panic attacks, and immediately began to smell the smoke and hear the crackling of a real fire. He began to feel light headed.

He tried to control his breathing. He wasn't really getting burned alive. He could just open his eyes, and...

Gunter loomed over him. "Ah, you're awake."

Simon was back in his bed, and for a second he thought that the fight had also been a dream, until he noticed the gaping hole in the wall in the direction of the Ice Kingdom. The hole looked out onto what appeared to be a river just below floor level.

The bedroom was on the third floor.

Simon sat up. His head throbbed painfully, and he grabbed it. "What... what happened?"

Gunter shrugged. "You just floated on in here. Are you all right? You were hyperventilating."

"Yeah," said Simon. "I just had a dream... Oh, dang it! The Cosmic Owl was in it and I woke myself up before he could say anything!" That was the whole point of this stupid, stupid mistake.

"What did you do that for?" said Gunter. He glanced nervously out the hole in the wall.

"I was on fire. Finn-- Oh glob." He got it. He knew why Finn-Ice had given up so easily. "His girlfriend is made of fire..."

"Finn-Ice has a girlfriend?" said Gunter. "I thought he was too busy kidnapping dogs?"

"No, no, alternate universe Finn," said Simon. "He's dating... uh, Fire Princess, I think." It was something like that.

"Okay...?" said Gunter.

Simon was getting frustrated. "Our universes are some kinda weird mirror of each other." It was clearly the case, although he wasn't yet skilled enough in multiverse theory to understand why. "I'll bet he's trying to get Cosmic Owl dreams, by setting the Ice King on fire!" Personifications of fire were hot-headed by definition, so it probably wouldn't be hard to convince her to fight. And if the Ice King had retained any of Simon's personality, and had ever lost to Fire Princess, he'd want a rematch as well.

"He wouldn't like that very much, if he's anything like you," said Gunter thoughtfully.

"Exactly!" Simon yelled.

Gunter crossed to the other side of the bed as the water began to seep in from outside. "I don't think I'm following you."

"Alternate universe Finn is scared of the ocean," said Simon. "What if Finn-Ice is also scared of the ocean?" If he was scaredof the ocean, then he was defenseless against an powerful opponent who expected him to fight back.

"Okay," said Gunter. "In my defence, I didn't actually know that about alternate universe Finn."

Simon got up and looked out the hole in the wall. He knew he couldn't get near Betty at the speed the water was flowing. "Gunter! You're good at swimming. Do you think you can get to Betty and tell her to call it off? I don't think she knows what she's doing." There was no way she'd flood Uuu like this knowingly.

Gunter walked over to the hole and looked down. "Hm... maybe... I don't know."

"Can you or not?" said Simon impatiently. What if Finn-Ice died? Simon would have killed him by proxy. He didn't deserve to drown just for being annoying and crazy.

Gunter hesitated for a second, then said "Yes. I think so."

Simon dived into the water. "Come on!"

The water was briefly refreshing, and then freezing. Not surprising, since it came from the Ice Kingdom. Simon did his best to ignore it, and swam perpendicular to the direction of the current until he was on the opposite side of Finn-Ice's castle from Betty, and partially sheltered from the waves. Swimming against the current from there still wasn't easy, but it was possible.

Gunter had swum straight towards Betty, and Simon hoped he'd get to her in time. If the water had reached the tree fort, the rest of Uuu was in danger as well.

The entrance to the castle was submerged, but once he got there, it wasn't a hard swim to Finn-Ice's living area. Simon found it tilted and mostly underwater. Finn-Ice was curled in a ball in the dryest area, and Jake was licking him, apparently trying to get him to to move.

"Hey!" said Simon. He tried not to look at the smashed furniture and television. "I'm sorry dude, come one! Let's get out of here!"

Finn-Ice moved his head slightly to look at him. "Simon! Let's kick this ocean's butt!" Without uncurling, he rolled into the water, screamed, and rolled out. "I can't do it, I can't do it!"

"I-it's okay," said Simon. He took a deep breath. So he'd been right. "Stay calm, I'll carry you." Finn-Ice was pretty heavy, but Simon was sure he could carry him in water. He slid an arm under Finn-Ice's arm and around his chest, and dragged him into the water.

Finn-Ice screamed again. "Get it off me get it off me get it off me!" He fired ice wildly, froze Simon's foot, flew out of the water before Simon had a chance to let go, and curled back up in his corner.

"Wowsers!" Simon detangled himself and slammed his foot on the floor to get the ice off it. The ice didn't crack, but the floor did.

"Huh." It was probably the water. Water was basically molten ice, and it had been running over the castle for a while now.

He looked up at the ceiling, hoping that there was a way out through there that he'd never noticed before. There was not. Every exit to the room was underwater, and the exits might as well have been on Mars for all the good they'd do Finn-Ice.

Simon inspected the wall. Unusually, there were large drips of water coming off it, though he couldn't tell if the drips were meltwater or from the flood. He kicked the wall with his frozen foot, and it cracked. The water had weakened it as well! He kicked the wall until it fell in, revealing what looked like a lake interspersed with pointy islands. "Finn-Ice, come on! I made an exit!"

When Finn-Ice didn't respond, Simon grabbed him under the arms and carried him on his back.

The was a chunk of ice below the hole. Simon studied the distance until he was sure he could make it, and jumped down. He managed to hit the edge of the ice, tilting it and spraying water all over them.

As soon as the water hit them, Finn-Ice yelled and jumped off Simon's back, landing on the very centre. He hugged his knees angrily. Jake climbed onto the chunk and licked his face, but Finn-Ice pushed him away.

Simon looked around. The current had died down, and he hoped that Gunter had got to Betty.

Behind them, Finn-Ice's castle finally toppled over, luckily in the opposite direction. Finn-Ice didn't seem to react. He continued to glare at the water.

The water was flowing slowly south. The flood would die down eventually, and maybe then Finn-Ice would move. Simon was getting worried about him. He thought about his own fear of fire. Alternate universe Finn's fear of the ocean paralleled Simon's fear of fire, and Finn-Ice shared that fear, but did that mean Simon could extrapolate anything about Finn-Ice's fear from his own experiences? Thinking like this was like trying to do math with imaginary numbers.

Betty popped out of the water to their right. Or to starboard, if the ice chunk counted as a boat. "Simon! I'm so sorry! I, I overdid it. Is he okay?"

"He's scared of the ocean," said Simon quietly. He didn't know why Betty was apologising when it was clearly his own fault. He knew Betty's capabilities and inexperience, and he should have considered that Finn-Ice might be afraid of the ocean.

Finn-Ice jumped up. "No I'm not! That's libel! I'm not afraid of a little water!"

Simon shook his head at Betty while Finn-Ice wasn't looking.

Betty widened her eyes. "I could have killed him." She grabbed her head. "What is wrong with me?"

"You?" said Simon. "I should never have asked you to do this! It's all my fault."

"Uh, Simon, I think it's my fault," said Betty. She circled the ice chunk. "You weren't the one commanding the entire ocean to knock down one guy's house."

"If only I'd forgotten about that glob dang fishballing dream," said Simon. "You were gonna leave him alone." He sat on the edge of the chunk, dangling his legs in the water.

"He took a cheap shot at me!" said Betty. "You expect me not to want a rematch after that? It's my fault, Simon." She narrowed her eyes. "Quit blaming yourself for everything."

"I only blame myself when it's my fault!" said Simon, annoyed. Why was Betty was determined to take the blame?

"You always blame yourself," said Betty. She raised herself out of the water with a small covering of water. "I wouldn't have fought him the first time if I never met you. Is that your fault too?"

Simon considered. "Yeah! Stuff always goes wrong around me. I only met you because I broke into that library. But... But I wouldn't trade it for never knowing you. Maybe it would be better..." He saw Betty's expression, and quickly added "Cause I make everything worse! I don't deserve someone like you."

"This isn't about you, Simon," said Betty irritably. "I guess it's kinda your fault he froze me." She indicated Finn-Ice, who'd gone back to hugging his knees. "But this? It's all on me."

Simon stood up, rocking the chunk slightly. "I know how strong you are! I just wanted another dream!" That was always what this had been about.

"Abraham Lincoln, Simon, you're not listening!" said Betty. "Do you think I wasn't looking for a reason to fight Finn-Ice again? Sure this was your idea, but I could have held back. But I didn't, and I destroyed a whole kingdom! I did it. Not you."

What else could he say? She wasn't getting it. "It was me, Betty! You don't have to take the blame for this! It was all my idea!"

"You're acting like I'm a little kid!" said Betty. "I'm fifteen, Simon, just like you. I messed up. You're just being... You're being selfish!"

"Selfish?" was all Simon could manage to say to that. He was trying to apologise, and she was calling him selfish?

"Yes!" said Betty. "Not everything is about you! It's not your fault I lost control, and if you can't see that, I... I... I don't know!" She dove back under, pulling the flood after her.

As the water level slowly fell, revealing the ruined Ice Kingdom, Finn-Ice said "Wow, what did you do?"

Chapter Text

The Year of The Lich
February

Marceline's band usually practiced in the Monster Castle basement when they were in town. Sometimes Simon liked to watch them. Seeing people better than him helped him stay on target in with his drumming. He didn't want to slip into the mindset that he was good when he wasn't.

Simon had never seen any of the other people in Marceline's band before, except for the guitarist, a renowned Spiky Person whose stage name was Fred. Marceline said she liked the different sounds that different musicians brought to the band. Simon couldn't really tell the difference, but he'd never said so.

"You guys sound great!" he called. The drums he could tell apart. The brown, leathery mummy currently playing them had been playing the same rhythm on the hihats since the beginning.

"I think Fred only knows three chords," murmured Gunter.

"Maybe it's some kinda statement," said Simon. He knew that chords were some kind of musical thing that involved playing a few notes at once, and he'd read that the amount of different chords that should go in one song had been a contentious issue before the Mushroom War. Maybe it still was.

Gunter indicated the keyboardist, a nervous-looking landsquid. "Then I don't think she agrees."

Simon took that to mean that she was playing a lot of different chords. She was clearly pressing down a lot of keys at once, although it was hard to tell when she was playing so fast.

The music segued into a drum solo. Simon watched with interest. He thought he could do that, although he'd probably switch up the hihat a bit more. But the mummy was probably just good enough to make it look easy.

Simon fiddled with the bottom of his waistcoat until he realised he could smell burning. He imagined the castle catching fire above them, collapsing, and covering them in burning rubble, and forced the image out of his mind. The castle was stone. Fire resistance was one of the reasons you built stone castles.

But the smell had to be coming from somewhere. He noticed a plume of smoke coming off the mummy, and for a second didn't understand what he was seeing. Then the mummy burst into flames.

Simon yelped in surprise and ran forwards, reaching into his bag for his fire blanket. He wrapped it around the mummy, extinguishing him.

"Oh my glob!" said Marceline. "Ötztal, are you okay?"

Simon removed the blanket. Ötztal was covered in shiny black burns, although his eyes were open. He mumbled. Most mummies mumbled, and Simon could never understand them.

Marceline seemed to understand. She said "Yeah, I don't think so, Ötztal. You need to rest."

"Is he gonna be okay?" asked the landsquid.

"Yeah," said Marceline. "Eventually. I told him not to try that solo."

Ötztal mumbled.

"Obviously not, Ötztal," said Marceline. "Come on, we better get you to the hospital." She hauled him up so that he could lean on her shoulder.

"Is he gonna be okay by tonight?" The landsquid continued. "Only, I told my parents, my kids, my brothers, my sister, my neighbours and my mother-in-law's cat I was gonna perform tonight, and if the concert's cancelled, I gotta make a lot of phone calls."

"No, but don't worry, Louise," said Marceline. "I think I can line up a replacement."

Simon was about to ask who she could get on such short notice, when he realised she was looking right at him. "Me?"

"Yeah, you, Simon!" said Marceline. "It was pretty cool how you put out the fire. Aren't you scared of fire?"

"Uh, no," said Simon nervously. She knew about that?

"So how about it?" said Marceline. "Wanna play at the concert tonight?"

Simon opened his mouth to explain all the reasons why he couldn't, but all that came out was "I'd love to!"

 

Simon curled up harder on his bed. He'd just been doing what heroes did when he'd saved Ötztal. He wasn't even scared of fire if it wasn't surrounding him. He was less scared of it, anyway. What else was he supposed to do, let him burn?

He wasn't good enough at the drums to play at a concert, and even if everyone's standards spontaneously lowered by tonight, he wasn't cool enough to be in a band, even as a substitute. He couldn't play in the band, but he'd told Marceline he would, and it was too late to find someone else. He thought about the landsquid, Louise, having to call people to tell them the concert was off, and twisted his blankets in his fist.

"Simon?"

It was Gunter. Simon didn't look up.

"Shouldn't you be practising?"

When Simon didn't respond, Gunter touched him lightly on the back. "Simon? What's the matter?"

"I can't play at the concert, Gunter!" Simon exploded. "I'm not cool enough!"

"Now come on, Simon, what's that mean?" said Gunter.

Simon sat up. "Gunter, don't pretend like I'm cool. I'm not cool enough play at a concert. I can't!"

Gunter looked at him wordlessly for a second. "Who says you have to be? What's the worst that could happen, you playing in a concert without being cool?" He jumped. "Wait, hang on, don't answer that."

Simon had already given a lot of thought to the possibilities. "Everyone could walk out of the concert, and what if there's a kingdom inspector and he hates Marceline's judgement, and he takes the Monster Kingdom away from her?"

"I don't think--" Gunter began.

Simon wasn't finished. "And what if the kingdom orphanage can't get the life saving medicine for a sweet baby banshee because of the legal proceedings, and she grows up to be the one person who can stop the frozen souls of a hundred cold-hearted generals from reigniting the Mushroom War! Uuu could be destroyed! And what if the generals dig down to the core of the planet and make it explode?"

Simon paused to take a breath before he launched into his theory about the collapse of the local infiniverse, but Gunter jumped in. "Look, if you're really that worried about it, why don't you teach yourself to be cool? You're good at that, at teaching yourself."

"That's true..." said Simon. Maybe he had some books on coolness lying around that he'd forgotten about. He jumped onto the floor, pointed, and said "To the living room!"

 

Simon shielded his eyes against the glare from the window, and looked over the books he'd collected. All he'd really found was the entire Kool Activities for Kidz series, which he'd saved from his old house. They weren't helping much. Kool only bore a very slight resemblance to real, grown up cool.

Gunter ran into the room holding a slim book with the remnants of plastic clinging to its cover. "Simon, look, I found this in the wall. It's not strictly about cool, but..."

Simon took it. "Hm..." The title of the book was How Does It Work? Refrigeration! He flipped through it. It wasn't much, and he already knew how refrigeration worked, but he was getting desperate.

How could they have no books specifically about coolness? Simon had books about everything else. Had he ever seen any books about coolness? Even at the library?

The library... Simon looked out at the setting sun. Even there were books on coolness there, there was no way they could make the trip with enough time to get to the concert afterwards. He dropped the book. "It's hopeless!"

Gunter looked hurt.

"Not you," Simon clarified. He indicated all the books. "All... All this! There's no way I can learn how to be cool before the concert!" He hadn't practised either, but he was less concerned about that. He knew Marceline's usual catalogue.

"Oh," said Gunter. He shrugged. "Then why don't we use magic?"

"Oh yeah, magic..." said Simon. That could work.

 

The best person to go to for esoteric magical items at short notice was Choose Goose. Simon often wondered where he got his stuff from. He couldn't collect it all himself, unless he was a much better adventurer than he seemed. It was possible that other adventurers sold it to him, although Simon didn't really understand that mentality. He'd had that magical stone that made everyone in a five foot radius need to blow their noses since he was nine, but he'd find a use for it one day. It was always good to be prepared.

"Who do I see on this day of joy?" said Choose Goose. "It's a penguin and a human boy!" He laughed.

"It's Simon and Gunter," said Simon, annoyed. "You've met us like a hundred times before!" He didn't know what it was about Choose Goose, but being around him always put Simon in a bad mood.

Choose Goose ignored him. "And what are you looking for? An enchanted hip brace? A potion? Or something to cover that blemish on your face?"

Simon rubbed his face, but he couldn't feel anything wrong. "Uh, actually, I'm looking for, uh, I mean..."

"He wants to be cool," said Gunter bluntly.

"Gunter!" said Simon. He'd been hoping to ask a bit more discreetly. Lucky there wasn't anyone else around.

Choose Goose laughed, flopped around, and said "On wood you must have knocked, because I have one cool item still in stock."

"Great," said Simon, who wasn't particularly surprised. Choose Goose always seemed to have what they needed. "What do you want for it?"

"Have some patience, my acquaintance," said Choose Goose. He pulled a cord with his feet, and a curtain fell down from the back of his stall.

"Whoa!" said Simon. It was a bust of Choose Goose, and maybe it was the pointy sunglasses it was wearing, but it was the coolest bust he'd ever seen in his life.

"The shades of Coolicon will make you cool!" Choose Goose declared. "Put them on, and you'll be the savviest kid in school! If you want to buy them, I'll give you a clue: I'll take any item of equal or cooler value."

"What?" said Simon. "There's no such thing! Coolness isn't a numerical scale, Choose Goose! It's not quantitative!" They didn't have time for this.

"Simon," said Gunter. "Calm down."

"I am calm, Gunter," Simon snapped. "It's this glob danged rubber limbed poetry crazed fop with the arbitrarily priced magic... junk!"

Choose Goose laughed and said "For that performance, the shades are yours, at no further expense!"

"Huh?" said Simon, who'd been gearing up for another rant. He took the glasses. "Uh, thanks." He wished he could tell when Choose Goose was provoking him on purpose, but at least they'd got what they'd come for.

Gunter ran his flippers over the glasses. "Hm, yeah, these seem fairly magical."

"You can't feel magic, Gunter," said Simon. He stared at the sunglasses. He trusted Choose Goose's merchandise, but did he really want to do this?

He didn't, but he had no choice. He couldn't show up as he was. He'd be a laughing stock.

He took off his glasses and put on the sunglasses.

 

Gunter watched Simon for any signs that something had gone wrong. The sunglasses completely obscured his eyes, and his normal glasses dangled from his hand.

"Simon...?" said Gunter eventually.

"I feel kinda sick," Simon whispered.

"Yeah?" said Gunter, relieved that he was talking.

"Crazy sick!" continued Simon. He broke into a grin.

"Was... was that a pun?" said Gunter. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Cool Simon he'd been prepared for, but pun-loving Simon?

"Lesson one in coolity," said Simon. "Puns are cool"

"Are you sure?" said Gunter. He didn't share his brother's usual aversion to puns, but he couldn't think of a single cool one.

Simon nodded. "Come on, we gotta get ready for the concert."

They started walking back to the tree fort.

"So..." said Gunter. "What's it like, being the coolest person in Uuu?" Simon seemed a lot less expressive than usual, and now that he thought about it, it probably was cool not to show emotions.

Simon shrugged without saying anything.

Simon was a lot of things, but he'd never been intimidating before. It was hard to be intimidated by someone you'd helped toilet train.

Simon looked over at him, smiled, and said "It's okay. All you really have to do is avoid doing uncool things."

"Like what?" said Gunter.

"Like explaining things too much," said Simon. "Explanations are way uncool."

"Huh," said Gunter. He'd thought he'd had a decent grasp on coolness until today. "And playing at the concert-- that's definitely cool, is it?"

Simon nodded again. "Ötztal had a good thing going with that drum solo, but I think I can spice it up even more."

"You... you're going to set the stage on fire?" Gunter guessed. He wondered if cool Simon was still afraid of fire. Phobias were uncool, but they weren't really something you could turn off. Their dad had struggled with a phobia of giant molluscs until the day he'd died.

"No, of course not," said Simon. "It's a surprise." He smiled, then seemed to remember something, and patted down his waistcoat until he found his notebook. "Gotta write down the details so I got them straight."

"And... Writing in a notebook is cool," said Gunter, who'd always thought of it as a dorky Simon thing.

"If you do it right," said Simon, as he scribbled. His handwriting had never been good, but Gunter couldn't even read this. Obviously, penmanship was also uncool.

 

The concert was being held in the usual spot on the outskirts of the Monster Kingdom. There'd still be plenty left over from ticket sales once Marceline paid Fred, Louise and Simon their cuts. She loved putting on local concerts. It was like taxes, but with less complaining.

She was having second thoughts about Simon's suitability, though. Not because he wasn't good enough. He'd been playing the drums for a few years now. It was just that he'd looked like he was about to die when she'd offered him the part. Well, he'd accepted it, and if he fainted from stage fright halfway through, that was on him.

He seemed calmer now. He was wearing some tacky pointed sunglasses and he'd taken his own drum kit to the show, the red one with the "#1 Babe" sticker that he sometimes pretended he didn't have. Maybe it would be okay.

He was setting up the microphones on the drums, and he didn't seem to be sweating much, or at all, but she had to be sure. "Hey, Simon," she called.

Simon didn't look up. "Yeah?"

"You okay for tonight?" said Marceline.

"Yeah," said Simon. He hit the snare drum in a couple of different places. "It's okay, Marcy, I've played these songs before."

"You're not nervous?" said Marceline. For Simon, he sounded really relaxed.

"Not anymore," said Simon. "I got a great idea for the solo."

"That's great!" said Marceline, relieved. He was going to be fine, she shouldn't have worried. "I can't wait to hear it."

 

Marceline kept an eye on Simon as they started the show. He seemed fine. He seemed fine during the opening number. He made a couple of minor mistakes in the bridge for I'm Not You But You're Not Me, which was her experiment in changing time signature every second bar, and he still seemed fine. He was so unworried that it worried her.

Before his solo, Simon said "My name is Simon the Human."

Someone whooped, and Marceline smiled. Simon hadn't been adventuring long, but he'd made a big impression.

Simon didn't seem as embarrassed by the attention as he normally would be. "I'm filling in for Ötztal tonight, and I'll get right to the point: Are you ready for the most intense solo of your lives?"

This time, the entire crowd cheered.

Simon was better at showmanship than Marceline remembered, and less talky. Maybe it was the glasses. It made it hard to see what he was thinking.

Simon hit a cymbal and began playing a drum roll on the bass with his feet. He threw a drumstick in the air with his right hand, caught it with his left, and began the meat of the solo.

It wasn't the most intense solo of Marceline's life, but Simon was still pretty good for his age. Good composition, too. He'd obviously been studying.

The wind was beginning to blow out towards the audience, and Marceline enjoyed it for a second, until she remembered that there was nowhere behind them for the wind to blow from. The audience's bandages, capes, and antennae were blowing in completely the opposite direction, towards the stage. This wind wasn't natural.

A guitar pick flew up from backstage and hovered above Simon's head, followed by a pebble, and a ring from the audience. Simon looked up, then pointed with his free hand and grinned at the audience.

"Simon, what's that?" said Marceline. If it had been anyone other than Simon the do-gooder, the ring would've made her suspicious, but he obviously wasn't planning to steal the audience's valuables. So what kind of weird, sciencey thing was he trying?

"It's a black hole," said Simon, without missing a beat. He raised his voice. "Who wants to feel the intense gravitational pull of an infinitely dense acoustic phenomenon!"

The crowd cheered.

"See?" said Simon. "They love it."

The more he played, the bigger the black hole got. A rock hurtled into it, and someone in the front row stumbled and fell.

"Simon, this is dangerous!" said Marceline. She ducked an unplugged speaker.

"I know!" replied Simon happily. "In a few seconds it's gonna be self-sustaining, and-- There we go." He began to float out of his seat, and put his arms around his drum kit.

Marceline could feel the pull towards the black hole now, although she could resist it. Louise had all her suckers pressed to the floor, and Fred was holding onto the side of the stage.

The stage began to crack. Gunter rose up from the audience and swiped them onto his back, Simon still holding onto his drum kit.

Marceline hit Gunter's back hard. "Oof!" The black hole's pull was so strong now that they could stand upright on Gunter's back. Above them, the setting sun loomed behind the mountains. Gunter was so big his feathers were as long as her finger. She couldn't float anymore, but she could just about stand.

A giant black flipper darkened the mountain-sky, and the audience fell onto Gunter's back. There was a lot of screaming and yelling.

Through the confusion, Marceline heard Gunter say "It's all right, I think I'm too big for it." There was a downwards lurch. "Er, hang on..."

The feathers expanded to the length of Marceline's hand.

Marceline pushed her way through the crowd. "Simon! What are you doing? Are you trying to kill us?" She almost wished he had been planning petty theft.

Simon was checking over his drum kit. "Oh, hey Marcy."

Marceline transformed into a horrible bat monster and grabbed him. "Simon! This is not a drum solo!"

Simon didn't seem bothered. "I told you I had something great. Look at everyone! They're having the time of their lives!"

Marceline turned to look at the closest person, a banshee lying with her hands over her head. "Simon, they're terrified." She held Simon close to her face. "Whatever you did, undo it now!"

Simon didn't react to the force of her breath. He shrugged as well as he could in her grip. "Eh."

"What do you mean "eh"?" Marceline demanded. "What is wrong with you today? Why are you trying to kill my audience-- my subjects?" He was one of the last people she would have expected to betray her.

Her feet dug further into Gunter's feathers.

"I'm not trying to kill them," said Simon. "It's just a near death experience. It's okay, it's just part of the show."

"You mean nobody's in any danger?" Given the precautions Bonnibel always had to take so that she didn't accidentally make a black hole while trying to do something else, Marceline doubted it.

"Of course they are," said Simon. "Can't experience near-death without imminent death."

"Ugh!" Marceline threw him down, and shrank back into her humanoid form. "Then help them, Simon!"

Simon landed on his feet. "I'm not gonna do that." He adjusted his sunglasses. "It's dangerous out there, and I got my image to think about."

"But that's what you do!" said Marceline. "That's what you care about, Simon!" She grabbed the glasses and threw them down at Gunter's back. "And take those stupid glasses off!"

Simon looked around, then abruptly fell down. "Wowsers!" He stood up with difficultly. "Wh-what's going on?" He looked at Marceline. "Are... Are you mad at me?"

"Simon, were those glasses magic?" said Marceline, exasperated.

Simon looked down at them. "They were supposed to make me the coolest person in Uuu... But I don't remember anything. Did I already do the concert? Why is Gunter so big? Oh glob, are we tiny?" There was an edge to his voice that Marceline recognised.

"Don't panic or anything," she began, "but you made a black hole with your drum solo and now Gunter's the only thing standing between us and complete annihilation."

"Is that cool?!" yelled Simon.

Marceline shrugged. "Look, Simon. I'm freaked out too, but we gotta do something about this. Your cool self was some kinda psychopath." Simon panicking was the last thing they needed.

Simon wrung his hands. "Okay, yeah, okay. If I made it with a drum solo, then it must be an acoustic black hole."

Gunter lurched again, and grew even larger.

"Marceline, I know what to do!" said Simon. "Sound only has mass in an infinitely compressed medium, so an unweaver fill--"

"Simon, you can explain later," Marceline interrupted. By the way Gunter kept growing, he couldn't protect them forever.

"Oh, yeah," said Simon. He rummaged through his bag and found a megaphone. "Gunter! Gunter, can you hear me?"

There was movement far away on the black plain, and a low rumbling.

"Gunter, you're too big," Simon said. "I can't understand you! I need you to bring me close to the black hole. Oh yeah, and I need my drum kit. It's really important that I have my drum kit."

More rumbling. Nothing else happened.

"Gunter, it's our only chance!" said Simon. "I'll be fine!"

There was a pause, and then something huge and feathery rushed at them. It was Gunter's flipper.

Simon jumped on, dragging his drumset after him. "I got this!"

 

Simon didn't have this, but he didn't want Marceline to worry any more than she already was. He shielded his drum kit with his body, and clung to Gunter's flipper with his legs. Gunter moved his limbs so quickly at this size that parts of his drums snapping off from the air resistance was a real possibility.

Gunter stopped abruptly, and the snare drum slipped out from under Simon's body. He managed to grab it before it could fly away, but it wrenched his arm painfully. "Ah!" He rolled his shoulder to make sure it wasn't dislocated, and crawled to the edge of the flipper. There it was. The evening sky, slightly distorted by a tiny, black pinprick. Simon looked up to see the ground above him. Gunter was holding him upside down.

At this distance, the black hole's gravity was obviously much stronger than Earth's. Gunter was so big now that if it got him, the increase in mass would doom all of Uuu. And then the world.

Simon played a steady beat on the hihat. If he'd created the black hole, he knew exactly how he would've done it, he hoped. He just had to cancel out the self-perpetuating sound waves that formed the singularity. If that was really what it was made of.

The wind whipped the sound away so quickly that he couldn't even hear what he was playing. He had no idea if it was working, but he kept up the rhythm. He kept playing as it got harder and harder to lift his hands. He dug the foot he wasn't using into Gunter's skin, but he still slid towards the edge. He resisted the urge to play faster. Just a little more now, and the black hole would evaporate.

His drum kit fell off the edge. Simon nearly went with it, but he threw himself back just in time. He managed to grab the bass, but it was too heavy to hold for long. It was either the drum, or the drum and his arm.

He let go.

It was okay. He'd nearly unweaved it. All he had to do now was just keep up the rhythm. He tapped his cheek and yelled to complete the last few bars.

He peered over the edge, but before he could tell if it had worked, he fell upwards, and managed to twist himself around just in time to land on his feet.

Pieces of stage and instrument clattered to the ground around him. Gunter shrank down to normal size as people fell off his back.

Marceline floated down from the sky. "Simon, you did it!"

"I ruined your concert," said Simon, who didn't see cleaning up his own mess as particularly praiseworthy.

Everything was broken, the audience was yelling, and it was all Simon's fault. What had Marceline said? That being cool had made him into a sociopath? Simon found his megaphone and yelled "I can pay fo--"

Marceline took the megaphone off him. "I think they're into it, Simon," she said.

It was hard, but Simon could just about process the sounds the audience was making as positive. They were yelling and screaming, but sometimes the kinds of people who went to rock concerts were the kind who yelled and screamed their appreciation. And their dissatisfaction. Maybe Marceline was just trying to make him feel better.

Louise fell out of a nearby splintered tree, took Simon's hand with three tentacles, and shook it vigorously. "My mother-in-law's cat won't stop talking about how great that black hole stunt was! You're the most punk rock kid I've ever met!"

"Uh," said Simon. "Th-thanks." He wouldn't really call Marceline's current music punk.

A ring rolled out of the debris. Simon picked it up, took the megaphone back, and said "Excuse me. Who owns this ring?"

"It's mine!" said about twenty people, almost in unison.

"We'll deal with that after the show," said Marceline through the megaphone. "Everyone still got their instruments?"

Louise still had a keyboard, and Fred still had a guitar. Simon picked up a drum skin from the ground and held it between his fingers. It was from his bass. Nearby was a mangled yellow strip of metal that was the same colour as his cymbals.

At least everyone was safe.

"Oh," said Marceline.

"It's okay, I'm gonna sit the rest of the concert out," said Simon. So he didn't ruin it any more than he already had. Maybe Louise and her cat had genuinely enjoyed it, but he wasn't convinced that anyone else had

"I'll buy you a new one," continued Marceline. "As long as you promise to never put those glasses on again."

Simon nodded fervently.

He sat and watched the rest of the show. They didn't sound too bad, considering that their drummer had turned out to be insane and homicidal, destroyed the stage, and then dropped his drum kit into a black hole.

Gunter sat next to him. "You okay, Simon?"

Simon lied with a nod. "I wish I knew what I was thinking." Louise had called it a stunt, but nearly killing everyone went a bit beyond getting naked, eating live bats, and really anything the ancient masters had done.

"Oh!" said Gunter. He dived into Simon's bag and took out his notebook. "I nearly forgot. You wrote in this while you were insane from coolness."

Simon took it from him. "I did?" He flipped through it until he came to some messy writing that he didn't remember adding. "Man, cool people have really bad handwriting." He read it and mumbled to himself. "Okay, I was talking about near death experiences releasing adrenaline, dopamine, dimethyletryptamine... you know."

Gunter shrugged.

"Oh, there's nothing in here about why I did it," said Simon. "It's all planning and junk." He turned the page over. "Huh? Gunter, look!"

"More writing?" suggested Gunter, leaning over Simon's arm.

"Yeah, but it's addressed to me!" said Simon. "I must have known Marceline was going to take off those glasses somehow!"

Gunter moved his flipper under the writing. "Yes. that definitely says... something I cannot read."

Simon could read it. It was no worse than his handwriting got when he wasn't wearing glasses, had just had a panic attack, and hadn't eaten in three days. "It says 'Hey regular Simon. I'm gonna put on the coolest show I know how, but you don't have to be cool to make Marcy like you. She likes you already. PS: Calm down about puns, bro. Puns are funny.'"

Simon closed the notebook with a snap. "I really was insane."

Chapter Text

The Year of the Dog
February

The Ocean Kingdom was destroyed, and it was all Simon's fault. He should have known something would go wrong. Just like when he'd offended Bonnibel earlier that day. Just like when Gunter had tried to cheer him up.

And then they'd torn the Ocean Kingdom apart, and now they were leaving without even apologising. They'd had to. Simon still couldn't believe that the girl he'd met was the Ocean Princess, but she was, and he'd made her lose control of her powers. It was still raining here, but they'd left the gales and downpours far behind.

He wished they could have spoken more before he'd ruined everything. She'd seemed to know a lot about emotion magic.

"Did you like her?" said Gunter suddenly, as the shore came into sight.

"Huh?" said Simon. "Betty?" Or someone else he'd forgotten about? There was probably someone else he might have liked who was a girl.

"Yes, that's right, the princess," said Gunter. He looked away. "I... I might have told her father that you were after some kind of relationship. With her."

Simon laughed for a bit too long. "Gunter, I can't get married! I'm an adventurer! Uh... and I'm thirteen!" Sometimes he forgot he still wasn't an adult by human standards.

"Well, technically..." Gunter began. "But no, I never mentioned marriage. Never mentioned marriage. I just wanted to, you know, set the two of you... up. Romatically."

Simon stopped swimming. It didn't do much. The current sweeping them to shore was too strong. "Gunter, why were you trying to set me up with Betty-- I mean, the ocean princess? I don't wanna date anyone. I'm done with romance." He thought the song he'd sung in the shower had made that pretty clear. He didn't want to hurt anyone else like he'd hurt Bonnibel by invading her privacy. Bonnibel invaded their privacy sometimes, but that was just for research. It wasn't creepy like he was.

Gunter stopped swimming as well. "Er... Well, I just thought you could use a change. You haven't been very happy lately." He sighed. "Shame it turned out like it did."

"That was my fault," said Simon. He tried to laugh. "I bet she hates me now." Her dad had looked pretty angry, and she'd given him the impression that he was very strict.

It was a shame. She obviously knew a lot about magic, and she was Simon's age. He didn't know many people his age, magic specialists or not. It was a shame.

The swam in silence towards the beach. The mountains beyond it were clearly visible through the rain now, but Simon didn't feel up to climbing them today. They'd just have to go around.

There was a loud, distorted warble from somewhere behind them. Simon jumped and spun around, but all he could see was choppy ocean, stretching to the horizon.

The sound happened again. It seemed to be coming from the water, but that didn't make sense. Water didn't make noises like that. It was just water. It splashed.

Gunter dove down, then came back up and pushed Simon underwater.

Simon forgot for a second that he could still breathe underwater, then said "Gunter, what--" His eyes adjusted to the blueness. "Oh. Uh, hello."

It was Betty, and she didn't look angry at all. "Simon! Gheia sou!" It sounded like a greeting.

Betty was oriented horizontally, and Simon was still vertical. He rotated until he was horizontal as well, just like when he used to go fishing with his family. "I-I'm sorry," he said. "Uh, your royal highness." A lot of princesses didn't mind not being addressed by their style of office, but it was hard to know beforehand.

"What are you sorry about?" said Betty. She grinned. "That was great! My dad was so mad! I never get to use my powers!"

"Yeah," said Simon. He wondered how many books had been destroyed in the vortex. How many books he'd made her destroy.

"I wanna see your lands," Betty continued. "Can you show me?" She spoke more formally. "I invoke the guestright."

Simon turned to Gunter, who'd been watching them silently. "Gunter, did you tell them I had noble blood?" he whispered. Guestright was only for aristocrats. Everyone else didn't get a choice.

"Well, I didn't tell her that," Gunter whispered back. "Besides, you might for all we know."

Simon turned back to Betty. "I don't know what you heard, but I don't have any land."

Betty looked puzzled. "But you are of unique parentage, right? You don't any know other humans?"

"Yeah..." said Simon, who wished she hadn't had to phrase it like that. "I don't know any other humans."

"Does your uniqueness not entitle you to nobility?" said Betty.

"Uh, no," said Simon. He'd never heard that, and he suspected that it was only true in the Ocean Kingdom. "I don't want any land. I'm not a princess. I mean a prince. I'm an adventurer."

Betty stared at him blankly for a second, then said "Okay. Then can you show me the lands you adventure on? I wanna see how they measure up to all my other surface lands. I mean, all the other surface lands I visited."

"Uh, sure..." said Simon. He looked at the shore, then at Betty's tail. "We could take the rivers."

Gunter cleared his throat and said "I'll just leave you two alone, then."

Simon grabbed him by the flipper. "Gunter, no!" he whispered. "You know the rivers better than me! I'll probably lead her into an ambush of... underwater sea millipedes! Please!" Gunter used the rivers as shortcuts sometimes. He wasn't fast on two legs, and swimming was easier and more comfortable than sliding everywhere on his stomach.

"All right, all right," said Gunter. "Follow me."

He turned left. Simon and Betty followed. Simon guessed that he was heading to the northern river mouth, but he had no idea where Gunter was planning to go after that. Simon had never paid much attention to rivers and creeks, except when they were in his way.

"So, those thing," said Betty, pointing at Simon's legs. "Do they really work the way they do on TV?"

"Yeah, I mean, I think they do," said Simon. "I can walk on 'em." It must have been less blindingly obvious to merfolk than land dwellers. What kind of TV did they have in the Ocean Kingdom? Old pre-war recordings, or live television? If it was live television, where was it broadcast from?

"They're not much good for swimming," said Betty. She reached for his leg, thought better of it, and held her palms a small distance apart. "Are all biped legs that skinny?"

Simon couldn't think of an answer for that. His legs were totally normal human legs, as far as he knew. They weren't that skinny.

"Sorry," said Betty. "This is all so weird! You must crawl along the ground like a amphibipod. Or a trilobite!"

That was a weird comparison, even for a mermaid. "Haven't trilobites been extinct for hundreds of millions of years?"

Betty grinned. "You do know about the ocean!"

They turned into the river mouth, and the swimming got a bit harder. The current was beginning to turn against them, and the water was clouded with mud.

Simon rotated onto his back and looked at the surface. He could sort of see the sky above, but not very well. "I can show you how humans walk, if you want." He'd never thought of walking as strange or exotic before, but to a mermaid, it was probably living underwater that was mundane.

"Yeah!" said Betty.

Simon climbed out and got to his feet, taking care not to slip on the frosty ground. He took some hesitant steps, stumbled, and winced. Now Betty was going to think walking was hard. He was just having trouble readjusting to gravity. She should see how Gunter walked after too long in the water.

There was a distorted warble from the river, and he almost slipped. This time it was clearly coming from Betty, who was floating just under the surface. It didn't sound like words, or even her voice. It didn't sound like anyone's voice.

Simon considered diving back into the water, but as cool as it would have looked, the river was a bit too shallow. He jumped in feet first instead.

Betty seemed irritated. "Ugh, why isn't it working?"

"What, talking out of water?" said Simon. He assumed that was what Betty was trying to do, but only because he'd seen her lips move.

"You can't understand me in the air, can you, Simon?" said Betty.

Simon shook his head and swam closer to the centre of the river. "Your voice was going up and down like crazy."

"Darn," said Betty. "I was vibrating the surface. You know, to transfer the sound. It always worked on the tank at home. I had to live in a tank," she added quickly.

Simon misjudged how quickly he was swimming and propelled himself into the mud at the bottom. When he recovered, he said "What?! That's terrible!"

Betty sighed. "Yeah, but my dad says it's for my own good. Because of my problem. He keeps saying that one day I won't need it."

"Problem?" said Simon, who couldn't think of a single problem she could possibly have.

"You saw, Simon!" said Betty impatiently. "My magic! It's too strong. I always wreck things when they let me out!"

Oh, that. "Uh, it wasn't that bad," Simon suggested. He wondered if the river was always this turbulent, and if the sky had been that dim thirty seconds ago. "Maybe you can learn to control it or something."

"I can control it!" said Betty. She took a deep breath and let it out. The sky cleared, and the river calmed. She put on a deep voice. "'It only takes one mistake.' That's what my dad always says. This is the first time I've left the palace in my entire life!"

No wonder she seemed so naive if she'd never been out... Wait, that didn't make any sense. "Hey, you said you've visited land before," said Simon.

Betty laughed and didn't make eye contact. "No I didn't."

Oh no. What if she wasn't who she said she was? What if she just wanted something from him? He wasn't important, but he had a lot of useful skills.

But how could everything be false when she'd been caught in a lie so easily? She didn't seem to know what to do with her eyes, and she hadn't even come up with a consistent story. Maybe this was the only thing that wasn't true.

Sometimes Simon hated that his useful skills included lying.

He said "You definitely did." He didn't want to offend her, but he also didn't like being lied to.

Betty fidgeted. "I just... I thought you wouldn't take me if I didn't look as worldly as you, okay?" She looked away.

"Worldly?" said Simon. He couldn't understand how someone like her was so worried about someone like him. He was just an hero boy, and she was a princess. She outranked him in every way.

Betty laughed nervously and shrugged.

They were definitely going uphill now, and Simon was having more and more trouble swimming against the current. Of course Betty and Gunter seemed to be fine. As a kid, Simon had always felt stupid for struggling so much while his family could swim anywhere they wanted. Penguins had evolved to swim, but knowing that hadn't helped much. He was a human, and at the time he'd thought humans hadn't evolved to do anything in particular. They were just the people who'd been around and doing things before anyone else was intelligent enough to form private investigation agencies and adopt babies from the woods.

"I'm gonna get out and walk," said Simon, when he didn't feel like he could swim much further.

Betty looked at him with confusion. "You're panting," she said. "Are you... tired?"

"Yeah," said Simon, suddenly self-conscious about his breathing. "Time to use these legs again." He climbed out. This time he did collapse when he reached the shore. But once he'd adjusted, walking up the mountain slope was much easier than swimming upriver.

Humans weren't completely unspecialised, he'd learned later. They were great at walking long distances, and not just in comparison to penguins. Fortunately for his brothers, after a couple of weeks he'd stopped bringing it up at every opportunity.

The mountain was nice now that Simon was out of the water. There was a bit of snow on the ground, but it wasn't deep. Pine trees grew almost up to the banks, and there was almost no wind.

The slope got easier, and the river emerged from the trees into a lake, with a waterfall at the opposite end, and a breathtaking view spread out to the east. They could see most of northern Uuu from up here. There were traces of ice and snow everywhere at this time of year, except for the desert on the horizon. The desert was hot even in midwinter.

Simon glanced at the lake and started walking again, but Gunter gestured him in.

"Gunter, this is where you were taking us?" said Simon, when he got back under the water.

"It's nice," said Betty. "It's really, uh, green." She turned onto her back and pointed towards the waterfall. "What's that over there? I feel a weird current."

"That's a waterfall," said Simon. "A waterfall is--"

"So that's what they feel like," Betty interrupted. She swam over to it and put her hand out.

"So, why don't you try looking above the surface?" said Gunter. He hadn't spoken for a while, Simon realised. It was strange. Usually he talked all the time, whether anyone was listening or not.

Betty looked up at the surface and frowned. "But it's full of air."

"Well, Simon and me can't normally breathe water, and it never stopped us," Gunter responded.

Simon nodded. She really hadn't been above the surface before.

Betty inhaled deeply and poked her head out of the water, then spluttered and slipped back in. "It's so bright!" She swam back above the surface.

Simon followed her. She was staring at the view with her cheeks puffed out. She turned to look at him, and tried to speak. Instead, water dribbled out of her mouth and made her gurgle. Annoyed, she went back under.

"What a view!" she said.

"Yeah, it's amazing!" said Simon. Especially for someone who'd never seen Uuu from above before. "Gunter, how did you find this place?"

Gunter shrugged, so Simon didn't press him further.

Betty took another breath, and pulled Simon up with her. She pointed at the desert and looked at him questioningly.

"That's the Desert of Doom," said Simon. "It was an ocean back before the Great Mushroom War." Once, they'd found a boat buried completely under the sand. The skeletons had been so well-preserved that he'd been afraid they were about to come to life and attack them. But they were just normal, human skeletons from the distant past.

Betty went under, came up again, and pointed at the icy area to the east. Unlike the rest of the view, it was a huge expanse of white, with no signs of water or vegetation.

"That's the Ice Kingdom," said Simon. "The guy who lives there is crazy, but... It's not exactly his fault." It was still very difficult to think of Finn-Ice as someone who'd once been a human boy like him, even after watching his videos, but he was trying to be more understanding.

He pointed at the tree fort, which was a slightly darker green speck in the white-green of the Grasslands, and said "That's where I live."

Betty nodded, sunk underwater, and beckoned Simon down. "Let's go there next!" She looked around. "I mean... If that's okay with you."

"Uh..." said Simon. He wanted to, but... "We don't live that close to a river." He rubbed his chin. "And even if we did, you couldn't really go inside..."

Betty looked in the direction of the view. "Then how do you get there?" Simon was about to answer, but she continued. "You just... walk?"

"Yeah," said Simon. "Sorry, Betty." He did want to show her his book collection, although he doubted it was anywhere near as exotic to her as the Ocean Kingdom's collection was to him.

"I think I can ma--" Betty began.

A sudden current hit Simon in the gut, knocking him towards the waterfall. A sharkman shot up to him. "Found you!"

"Me?" said Simon. He recognised the sharkmen that had been guarding the Ocean Palace, but what were they doing here? Could all this be a setup to lure him... someplace? No, that was stupid.

Before he could right himself, another sharkman slammed him against the bottom of the lake. "What did you do with the princess?"

Simon was trying to get his breath back to explain when Betty swam up behind the sharkmen and knocked them away with her magic. "Simon! Come on!"

The water on their side of the lake spilled over the shore and rushed downhill in a rough globule.

"Betty!" said Simon, trying to stay steady. "What's going on? Where's Gunter?"

Gunter swam out of Betty's hair, at about the size of a bean. He waved, and darted into Simon's hair.

Simon looked back at the rapidly retreating mountainside. "Are they following us?" He couldn't see much outside the water foaming around them.

"Nope!" said Betty, without looking. "Hold on!"

"To what?" said Simon. The ground was flying by dangerously quickly, and he tried to stay at the top of the globule, but the current kept pulling him down

Finally, they splashed into a river in the western Grasslands, and Betty let the globule dissolve.

Simon stared back the way they'd come. It looked like the area had been hit by a very narrow, localised rainstorm. "Why were those guys so mad?"

"Uh..." said Betty. She looked back as well, and laughed nervously. "I kinda didn't tell anyone I was leaving."

"What?!" said Simon.

Gunter propped himself on Simon's head, still tiny. He felt like he was lying on his stomach. Probably looking at Betty indignantly.

"I think they think you guys kidnapped me," said Betty. She laughed again, then scowled. "I used to wish someone would kidnap me."

"We gotta explain it to--" Simon began, then stopped. "You used to wish someone would kidnap you?"

"Yeah, when I was five," said Betty. "I get it now. If you want something exciting to happen, you gotta do it yourself. Listen... Simon. I... I'm not ready to go home yet. Dad can't just roll out the army and expect me to come back!"

Simon felt bad for her, but... "What else can we do?"

"I really think you should talk to them, Betty," said Gunter uncertainly. "Clear up the misunderstanding."

"We're sitting ducks here..." Betty murmured. "Oh, I know! Where did you say your house was, Simon?"

Simon pointed east. He knew where he was. The Grasslands were practically his backyard.

"Let's go!" said Betty. She raised her arms, and a wave lifted them up in the direction Simon had pointed. The tree fort zoomed towards them, but they weren't going downhill this time, and they seemed to be losing a lot of water. A few feet from the fort, the water pressure failed completely and dropped them on the grass.

Betty's eyes darted from side to side as she realised she was stranded out of the water. She spotted their pond and tried to pull herself towards it with her arms. Simon and Gunter grabbed her and dragged her the rest of the way.

Betty fell head-first into the pond, dove down, and laughed in exultation. "No rivers!" Her face seemed a bit pinker than usual.

"What were you gonna do if we didn't have a pond?" said Simon. It hadn't been visible from the mountain lake.

Betty turned upside down and picked bits of grass off her tail. "No pond?" She laughed again. "You land dwellers are weird."

Simon scanned the horizon. The trail of water leading to the pond was already fading, and he couldn't see any sign of the sharkmen yet. "What do we do now?"

"Maybe..." said Betty. She swam around the pond and held her hand above the surface. "Maybe I could live here! And if my dad tries to stop us, we'll, uh... we can... keep him away! With a giant robot!"

Gunter made a coughing noise that Simon couldn't interpret.

"Hmm... this pond is a little small," said Simon. He wondered whether she'd even be happy living away from the ocean, but she hadn't complained yet. "And what about your dad? What if he declares war on the whole Grasslands?" Gunter had apparently told the Ocean King that Simon was noble, so it was possible. He didn't want to be responsible for a war, especially when everything was just a misunderstanding.

"It's bigger than my tank," said Betty. She sank to the bottom and trailed her fingers in the mud. "I just wish we c--"

The mud moved upwards, and something boxy climbed out. "Papi! Your girlfriend found me after fifteen months, four days, nine hours, and twelve minutes! I am the ultimate hide and seek champion!"

Simon was too stunned to even address the girlfriend comment. He'd been wondering why he hadn't seen Necdr around lately. He thought he'd just wanted some time alone to figure out who he was and and what he wanted to do with his life and everything.

"Hello, Necdr," said Gunter.

"Hi... Necdr," said Betty uncertainly.

"There is no need to be shy, Papi's girlfriend!" said Necdr. He extended his claw hand. "I am pleased to meet you!"

Betty swam close to him. "Is that thing your robot son or something?" she whispered.

"Don't call him a thing," Simon whispered. "And, uh... yeah. It's kinda a long story..."

Gunter dove down from the surface. "Er... They're here. The army."

Simon exploded out of the water to see several giant bubbles of water on a hill a mile away. The Marauders were camped there, and he couldn't make out exactly what was going on, but it looked violent. Of course the Marauders could take care of themselves, but nobody should be hurting anyone, because it was all a huge misunderstanding.

He went back under. "I'm gonna turn myself in," he told Betty.

"No!" Betty yelled. She grabbed his vest. "The mersharks don't take prisoners. You'll be killed!"

That seemed like a bad way to run a police force, or whatever they were, but Simon didn't say so.

Betty put her head in her hands. "Maybe we can't be together," she said.

"Together?" said Simon. He didn't mind when Gunter tried to set them up, or Necdr got the wrong impression, but was she actually interested in him? Was he actually interested in her? He probably was, because he really, really wanted her to be interested in him.

"We're like the ocean and the sky," Betty continued.

"Sky?" said Simon.

"You breathe air, and I breathe water," said Betty. "Just like the ocean can never meet the sky, uh.... we can never date."

Simon frowned. "But I can't fly." He got what Betty was trying to say, but he didn't understand why she'd chosen that metaphor. "And besides, the sky starts where the ocean ends. The sky and ocean suck face like 24/7!"

Betty thought about that. "I guess that's true..." she said. "Maybe we just gotta look at it differently."

"Papi, the soldiers are getting closer," said Necdr. "Shall we work together to build a robotic exoskeleton as your girlfriend suggested?"

"You can do that?" said Simon, who was willing to try anything at this point.

Necdr spun in a circle on the bottom of the pond, kicking up clouds of mud. "Of course, Papi! I'll do anything to make you happy!"

"Betty!" Simon said. "I think I can turn myself in after all!"

"Simon, I was just spitballing about the giant robot," said Betty. "Do you really think...?

"If they can't hurt me, I'll have a chance to explain!" said Simon. "And they'll stop attacking the Grasslands, and you won't have to go back home!"

Necdr grabbed Simon with his pincer. "Come, Papi! Take us to the garbage dump!"

"See you in a bit, Betty," said Simon. He swam upwards with Necdr.

Betty wrinkled her forehead and waved.

 

Simon had never tried building a robot completely from scratch, and he was half expecting to fail, but Necdr was surprisingly good at robotics now. He'd even managed to build himself into the exoskeleton for added security. Simon's head went inside Necdr's microwave, and he felt awkward about it, but Necdr seemed to be enjoying himself.

"Look, Papi!" he said. "We are as one!"

"Yeah," said Simon. Controlling the robot was as simple as moving normally. They'd installed some neural mappers that Simon had picked up years ago a few miles below the surface of the Earth. All they needed was a bit of polish, and they were fine.

He wanted to go back into the pond and check on Betty, but this suit actively repelled water. He'd probably dry it up completely and kill her or something.

He knelt by the pond, and Betty came up from underneath. She had a lilypad on her head. She gurgled in surprise, then gave a thumbs up. Simon made the robot give her a thumbs up back.

He raised his eyes to the surrounding lands. The bubbles had stopped bothering the Marauders, but now they seemed to be spread out and searching for something. Probably him. He ran towards the closest one.

He felt like he could sprint all day in this suit and never get tired. Necdr had done a great job. If it wasn't so bulky and clumsy, he would have wanted to use it for all his adventures.

Simon slid to a stop in front of the water bubble, which was bigger than he'd thought. It was taller than the robot, and it held three sharkmen. "Hey!" he said.

"It's him!" said one of the sharkmen. Simon could hear him clearly, even through the surface of the water. "The kidnapping viscount!"

Viscount? "Listen, I didn't--" Simon began.

The bubble split into three as the sharkmen surrounded him. One rushed at him, unhinged his jaw, revealing rows of sharp teeth, and bit the robot's arm. Simon only felt a slight jarring sensation, but the sharkman fell back and clutched his face.

Necdr laughed. "You cannot hurt my Papi!"

"That's right!" said Simon. "This suit is--"

His arm moved on its own, coming down on the bubble of the sharkman who'd tried to bite him and demolishing it.

For a second, Simon didn't understand what had happened. "Necdr!" he said, as he realised. "What are you doing?" He couldn't override whatever Necdr decided to do, but Necdr seemed to be able to override him.

The sharkman crawled into another sharkman's bubble. It looked crowded in there with the two of them.

"I am defending you, Papi!" said Necdr. "Is this not what you wanted?"

"I didn't want you to fight!" said Simon. He should have told Necdr the plan back at the tree fort instead of assuming he knew what was going on. He'd been sitting at the bottom of a pond for more than a year. And he'd immediately assumed that Betty was Simon's girlfriend. Who assumed stuff like that? Maybe they could be, but... they weren't.

Against his will, he backhanded the bubble with the two sharkmen, launching them far away, and tried to smash the last sharkman's bubble.

The sharkman dodged, then grabbed his hand and pulled. The sharkman was hovering in the water bubble, so Simon didn't know what he was bracing himself on, but he was strong enough to drag the robot slightly across the grass.

"These mersharks want to hurt you and your girlfriend, Papi," said Necdr. "I will not let that happen." He raised the arm the sharkman was holding, and tossed him in the direction of the other two. "Goodbye."

"Necdr, I just want to--" Simon began.

A torrent of water poured from above, and formed into a mass of water containing the king of the ocean. He was less muscular than the sharkmen, but Simon didn't want to underestimate him. He was Betty's father, and Betty had torn open a building without even meaning to.

"...Talk to them," Simon finished. He addressed the Ocean King. "Listen! I didn't kidnap the princess!"

"My daughter has never left the castle in thirteen years!" said the Ocean King. "And then you arrived and stole her away!" He drew his hand back, and threw it forward. Water in the shape of a hand lunged at Simon's exoskeleton's throat, and disintegrated when it touched it.

"She wanted to see the land!" said Simon. He wished Betty was there to explain it. He was sure the Ocean King would listen to his own daughter. "She said she's tired of living in a tank!"

"Three," said Necdr.

"My daughter is perfectly content where she is!" said the Ocean King. He circled Simon slowly. "She doesn't need you and your unnecessary excitement in her life! I should never have listened to Gunter!"

"Two," said Necdr.

Simon wanted to keep trying to explain to the Ocean King, but it sounded like he still had to explain to Necdr. "Necdr, what are you counting down to?" Necdr had built so much of the robot himself that Simon didn't know all its capabilities. "I told you..."

"One," said Necdr.

Simon raised his arm involuntarily. He could feel something powering up inside the suit, and he couldn't stop it. After a moment of panic, he punched himself in the stomach with his free hand until there was a hole through it.

The something powered back down.

"Oops, I think our robotic exoskeleton is malfunctioning, Papi," said Necdr. "Let me fix that for you."

The suit powered up again, faster. Simon used his free arm to push his other arm down just as it shot out some sort of beam.

The beam hit the grass and crumbled it to dust. Simon knelt down and picked some of it up. It was strangely dry, even for dust. It reminded him of... Had Necdr somehow managed to install Bonnie's dehydrator ray from that morning in the robot? Simon was sure she'd taken it home with her.

Before he could figure it out, the suit began to spark, and Simon quickly ripped open the stomach hole and climbed out. None of this was helping. All he wanted was to stop hurting people.

"Aha!" said the Ocean King. He rolled his water bubble at Simon. Simon dodged, but the Ocean King was more agile in the bubble than he'd thought, and easily caught up to him. The bubble pushed him down until he was face down on the grass. He tried to move, but it was too heavy. He tried to breathe, but his water breathing potion had worn off some time ago. He couldn't move.

Simon struggled for what felt like a eternity. He needed to take a breath. His vision was getting dim around the edges, but the surface of the water was just a few inches in front of his face. He had to get to it. He had to breathe.

The weight lifted off him. Simon rolled onto his back and gasped for air until he felt slightly less like a piece of seaweed, then climbed to his feet to see the Ocean King's bubble being drawn slowly towards the tree fort. Betty was at the surface of the pond, making a pulling motion with her hands.

"Betty?" said Simon. He glanced at Necdr, who was struggling to detach himself from the sparking exoskeleton.

"Papi!" said Necdr. "You didn't drown after all!" He popped off the top of the robot and laughed in delight.

He was really going to have to explain things to Necdr later. It was Simon's own fault he'd got the wrong idea.

Simon ran towards the pond as Betty pulled her father's bubble into it. The bubble retained its shape even inside the pond, making it look like the pond was bulging out from its banks.

Simon stood awkwardly next to the pond. On the other side, Betty and her father were facing each other. Simon couldn't see the Ocean King's face, but Betty's eyes were narrowed to slits.

"Betty!" said the Ocean King. "Do you want to spend the rest of your life as a captive of this... human?"

"You can't drown him, dad!" said Betty. Simon could hear her clearly, and he wondered why. "I love him!"

They hadn't talked about love. Simon didn't even know what love was.

The Ocean King put his hand on his forehead and groaned. "You don't even know what love is. You're thirteen years old, Betty, and this human is putting ridiculous ideas in your head. When we get home, I'm taking away the good behaviour calendar. You're obviously not ready for it."

Betty opened her mouth angrily, then met Simon's eyes. He didn't know what she saw in them, but she composed herself, and said "How am I supposed to find out what love is if you never let me talk to any cute boys? I'm tired of being locked up, dad."

She thought Simon was cute? Did she think all the boys she met were cute? How many boys had she met? Did she also think girls were cute? Did her dad let her talk to cute girls? Simon didn't know if he thought girls were cute, but he thought Betty was cute. He could talk to whoever he wanted, and he still didn't really know what love was.

The Ocean King gestured at the Grasslands, which was covered in puddles and rivulets. It looked like it had been raining non-stop for a week. "You see what happens when you dart around unsupervised?"

"That was all you, dad!" Betty yelled. Clouds formed around the tree fort, then cleared as she calmed herself down. "I didn't do anything until you chased me. I can control my powers! That time in the library-- You never let me use my powers, so I didn't know. Let me st-- I mean, I'm not going home, dad. I'm staying here."

She looked at Simon again. Simon nodded his agreement. The more he heard about her home life, the more he was convinced that she needed to get out of hit.

"With him?" said the Ocean King. He looked around at Simon and narrowed his eyes. "How do I know he's not forcing you into this cohabitation? Did you see what he did to my mersharks?"

"He's not a bad guy," said Betty. "Why won't you believe that? It's me you're mad at! If I can't live with Simon, then... I'll live somewhere else! Somewhere away from the Ocean Kingdom! I can do it, dad! You know I can handle myself"

"You're thirteen," repeated the Ocean King. "You have a condition, and I obviously can't leave you alone for a second."

"Simon's been living on his own since he was--" Betty glanced at Simon.

"Twelve," said Simon. He wasn't living on his own. He had Gunter. Gunter had been much older than twelve in penguin years when their parents had died.

Gunter wasn't very responsible, though. Living away from your parents wasn't that hard in this day and age, once you were old enough to find your own food.

"I'll be fine, dad," said Betty. "If I flip out and destroy the land of Uuu, you were right and I'll come home and I'll stay in the tank forever! Just give me that chance."

The Ocean King looked between Betty and Simon for a while. "All right. But if I find out you're living with the human..."

Betty grinned. "Thanks, dad! I won't destroy anything else, I promise!"

"We'll see," said the Ocean King. He withdrew from the pond and rolled away. As he passed Simon, he muttered "I give her a week."

Betty spoke angrily when he was gone, but it came out distorted. Simon took a deep breath and stuck his head in the pond.

"I can't believe him!" said Betty again. "He still doesn't trust me!"

Simon gestured for her to come out of the pond so that he could reply. He wondered if they'd have to do this all the time. Water breathing potions were expensive. Then he wondered if there'd be an all the time.

"Where are you going to live?" he asked, and dunked his head underwater again.

"In the ocean, I guess," said Betty. "This pond water tastes... weird. It tastes like land plants and mud." She spat some of it out. Simon moved to the other side of the pond.

"Uh... do you need help getting there?" said Simon. He didn't want her to drain the pond and kill all the fish, and he doubted there was enough water in there to get her to the river anyway. "Should I call your dad?"

"No!" said Betty, almost before Simon dipped his head back under the water. "I'll figure something out."

"Maybe Gunter can carry you," Simon suggested, after a few moments' thought. Gunter had been really helpful all day. A lot more than Simon deserved after his behaviour that morning.

"Gunter?" said Betty. "Your tiny penguin?" She held her hands out to Gunter's normal height.

"He's my brother," said Simon. He didn't know what it was about human-talking animal relations that always made people assume the animal belonged to the human in some way. "And it's okay, he's magic. You saw."

 

They only had one pot big enough to fit Betty, and it was the pot they used for roasting giant gelatinous cubes. Luckily, it was clean. Betty had to curl up, and it looked uncomfortable, but it was the best they had. When they got there, Gunter tipped Betty into the river, Betty beckoned Simon in.

"Uh..." said Simon, as Betty watched him silently. "Are we dating now?" He couldn't think of a better way to ask. He wished he could.

Betty sank below the surface. "When I first saw you, I thought you were cool." She hugged him and added "But I figured you out. You're a dork."

She swam away without another word. Simon surfaced and breathed hard.

Gunter had already shrunk down to his normal size. "So, what did she say?"

"She called me a dork," said Simon.

Gunter winced. "Oooh. And you were getting along so well, too."

Simon stared downstream. "I think it was a compliment."

Chapter Text

The Year of the Sky Witch
May

It had been too long since Gunter had been to one of Prismo's parties. He'd had a date with Elbow Princess last time, and before that there'd been that incident with the floating emoticon and the hostage crisis... But he was here now, and he'd left the food table alone for long enough.

Gunter hopped onto the table and slid on his stomach until he hit his head on something that his nostrils told him was a bowl of cheese crackers. He reached in, and his flipper brushed someone's hand. "Oh, sorry."

He looked up, and stared. Of all the people he hadn't expected to see at one of Prismo's parties, he wouldn't have even listed O'Malley, who was also staring at him. "Never mind," he said. "I'm not sorry after all."

"What're you doing here?" said O'Malley. The bowl was disappointingly empty, but somehow O'Malley managed to scoop some crackers out of it, which he stuffed in his pockets.

"I'm a friend of the host's, actually," said Gunter. He tried scooping out some crackers of his own, but the bowl remained empty. "What are you doing here? Don't tell me you were invited." There was no way. Prismo's parties were so exclusive that Gunter didn't even take Simon to them.

"I was, 'actually'," said O'Malley, mimicking Gunter's voice. He waved one of Prismo's invitations in Gunter's face and put it away before Gunter could even point out that he had his thumb over the name.

Gunter narrowed his eyes at him. "All right, listen, we both know-- How are you doing that?"

O'Malley had scooped more crackers out of the bowl. For a second, he looked into the bowl in confusion. Then he shoved the crackers into his mouth. "There's a knack to it," he said, spraying Gunter with crumbs.

Gunter didn't know why he'd bothered asked O'Malley anything. He went over to the wall, where Prismo was drinking from a shadow plastic cup. "Prismo, we've got a party crasher, and he's eating all the cheese crackers."

Prismo couldn't face any direction other than left or right, but Gunter could tell he was looking at the table. "Oh, yeah, the guy from your brother's wish. He has Peppermint Butler's invitation." He took another sip from his cup. "He can stay. It's impressive he even got here."

They watched O'Malley peer at the bowl, jab his hand in, and pull out more crackers.

"He's exerting pressure on the reality layers where he's not present," said Prismo. "He and Peppermint Butler aren't, uh... c... s... You know when you know a concept but you don't know the word?"

"Oh, yes," said Gunter. "Hate that feeling, hate that feeling. Sorry, you said he was in Simon's wish?" Maybe Prismo was talking about Gerald, his other brother. "I think I'd remember that."

"Well, he was a human, but it was definitely him," Prismo responded. "I think he had a laser gun or something? I don't remember."

Gunter wished he'd paid more attention to Simon's wish when it had been going on. "A laser gun! What for?" He'd stupidly thought that it couldn't get any more ridiculous than grown-up Simon killing human Betty with the crown, if that was even what had happened.

"Uh... I think he tried to hold that redhead hostage?" said Prismo. "Betty, I think?"

Gunter burst out laughing. "Strange places, wish worlds." He wiped his eyes and sighed. "Imagine a wish world where you and I never met."

Prismo laughed. "Let's hope no one makes that wish."

Gunter laughed with him.

O'Malley walked up to them. "Excuse me. O'Malley, entrepreneur." He wagged his tail slightly.

Gunter rolled his eyes. Here he was in Prismo's time room, and he didn't even know that Prismo was an almighty, all-knowing being who'd won quite a bit of money in almighty, all-knowing poker tournaments.

"I was just wondering if you knew that the people in the Divine Quadruple G costume were taking selfies on your Lich statue over there," O'Malley continued.

"Oooh," said Gunter, before Prismo could reply. "That's not a statue. That is the real, actual, true Lich."

O'Malley looked around at the Lich, where Grob Gob Glob Grod really were taking selfies. It was probably Grob's idea. Prismo said she updated all her social media accounts twenty-three thousand times an hour, and Gunter believed it.

"I think you need your brother to teach you how to tell a convincing lie," said O'Malley. "If that was the real Lich, we'd all be turning each other inside out and using our veins as garrottes."

"No, Gunter's right, he's harmless," said Prismo. "The Lich's primary function is to cause mass death. And since he can't do that while he is trapped in my Time Room, he's stuck in a standstill, like a machine without a purpose."

O'Malley's expression didn't change, but Gunter could see the fur on the back of his neck raise. "And can I ask what the most supremely evil being of our time is doing in this room?"

"I trapped him there," said Gunter. He didn't want to go into detail. O'Malley didn't seem to know that Prismo was the Wishmaster, and Gunter wanted to keep it that way. Most people deserved to get what they wished for, but O'Malley was one of the exceptions. "Well, really it was Prismo."

"Hey, don't sell yourself short, Gunter," said Prismo. "I couldn't have done it without you." He addressed O'Malley. "Look, dude, if you don't want to be here, I can send you home any time you like."

O'Malley turned back to look at the Lich, swallowed, then said "You're sautéing my potatoes." He walked away.

Gunter said "Speaking of going home, I'd better get back." Simon had been really strange and quiet lately, and Gunter was getting worried about him, but he didn't want to say anything out loud where O'Malley could possibly overhear. Simon said he was over his problems with O'Malley, but Gunter still didn't want them in the same room.

"Okay, Gunter, see ya," said Prismo.

Gunter reappeared back at home. It was dark, even in the bedroom, which meant Simon wasn't home yet. Good.

He climbed the stairs, and jumped to find Simon sitting on his bed. He had his hands on his knees, he smelled of sulphur, and he seemed to be staring at nothing.

"Simon?" said Gunter hesitantly.

"Hey Gunter," said Simon.

Was that a normal "Hey Gunter", or an accusing "Hey Gunter"? Had Simon noticed that Gunter hadn't come in through the door? He was very smart.

Gunter decided that he should probably just come clean.

"Er, Simon, I have something to tell you," he began. "I've been spending a lot of time at Prismo's lately, and... and I just thought you should know that."

"Okay," said Simon. He stared down at his lap. "Gunter... My mom. Billy's ghost said she was still alive."

Living people didn't have ghosts, but now wasn't the time to point that out. "Your human mum?"

"She's in the Citadel," said Simon quietly.

"What's that?" said Gunter. It didn't sound like he was talking about any citadel they should know. "A... A fort?"

"It's a prison," said Simon.

"Oh..." said Gunter. Just Simon's luck. "Where is it?" He'd never heard of a citadel just called the Citadel, and he'd heard of most prisons in Uuu. A short criminal career and a longer heroic career did that for you.

"It's in another dimension," said Simon. "Only cosmic criminals get sent there."

Gunter didn't know what a cosmic criminal was, but being one sounded serious. "Do you think maybe she's a guard?"

"I don't think they use human guards," said Simon. "It's a cosmic prison."

They were both silent for a couple of minutes. Gunter had always been told he had a good imagination, but he couldn't imagine what Simon must be feeling, other than bad. It wasn't that Simon had never had parents before. He'd had very good parents. But he'd always been alone. As far as Gunter knew, the only other human Simon had ever met wasn't even from their reality.

Nobody in Uuu thought penguins were a dead species.

"Are you going to see her?" said Gunter at last.

"I can't," said Simon. "Nobody knows how to get there without committing a cosmic crime."

"Oh, of course," said Gunter. Whatever a cosmic criminal was, the Citadel people probably didn't want to risk anyone visiting them. "Although..."

Simon looked at him.

"If anyone knows how to get to the Citadel, it's be Prismo," said Gunter. "If we're lucky, he's still partying, you know, it's still early."

Simon swallowed. "I... okay. Let's do it."

Gunter went to pull Prismo's letter out, but hesitated. "Are you absolutely sure you want to do this?"

Simon nodded, but he didn't look very sure to Gunter.

"All right then," said Gunter. He pulled out the letter, then hesitated again.

"What?" said Simon, who'd already slung his bag over his shoulder. The strap was slightly charred.

"Well, when I was at the party, you see, I ran into an old... a friend of ours." Gunter rubbed his flippers together. "He didn't seem keen to leave. He may still be there."

Simon rubbed his chin. "Donny?"

"Oh, no, no," said Gunter. "Older."

"O'Malley?"

Gunter inclined his head.

Simon groaned. "Let's just get this over with."

Gunter read Prismo's letter to himself one more time, then pressed the signature. They appeared back in Prismo's time room.

The party seemed to be over now, but O'Malley was still there, taking selfies on the Lich. He looked up as they materialised. Gunter narrowed his eyes, pointed at his face, then pointed at O'Malley. O'Malley didn't acknowledge him, but he didn't come any closer, either.

On the other side of the room, Cosmic Owl was trying to convince Prismo to keep playing Card Wars with him.

Card Wars was fun with Prismo. If Prismo won, it was because he'd been dealt better cards. Not because he'd come up with some weird new strategy that was probably illegal.

Prismo waved. "Oh, hi guys."

The Cosmic Owl raised a wing. "You guys wanna play some Card Wars?"

Only if they played in teams and Gunter got to team up with Simon. "No, thanks. Actually we're looking to get to the Citadel."

"Whoa!" said Prismo. "You guys do not wanna go there. Seriously." He appeared a remote control and turned on the TV wall. "Check this out." Some kind of space building shaped like a cross appeared. "The Citadel is a nastasised prison. Only the worst of the worst end up there. Real stink faces. Those guys are the pits." As he spoke, images of strange monsters appeared, killing crowds of other monsters and destroying planets. "The armpits."

So that was what a cosmic criminal was. It was about what Gunter had thought. "All right, but..." He looked at Simon, not sure if Simon wanted to say why they were going.

"My mom's in there," said Simon.

There was a thump behind them as O'Malley jumped off the Lich and came closer. Gunter tried to ignore him.

"I'm sorry, guys," said Prismo, "but you can only get to the Citadel by committing a cosmic crime."

"Oh yeah?" said Gunter. "What kind of crime?" There was a lot he was prepared to do to help Simon. Simon had enough to worry about with having to commit a crime in front of the exact person who'd given him life-long issues with crime. "Download a quasar? From the Internet, I mean?"

The Cosmic Owl gathered up his cards and flew into the air. "Oh, uh, I just remembered I gotta go home. Gotta groom my feathers!" He flew out the door. "Goodbye! Goodbye!"

That didn't bode well. Cosmic Owl cared about everybody's problems, and for him to leave so abruptly...

"So, your mother's a cosmic criminal," said O'Malley, behind them. "I always suspected crime was in your blood, but darn." He shook his head, apparently impressed.

"Maybe she's a guard!" said Simon, with more emotion in his voice than Gunter had heard for days. "It doesn't even matter who your parents are! Life choices aren't encoded in DNA! Or RNA. Or MNA or ENA!"

"If your parents don't matter," said O'Malley, "why are you so set on seeing your mom?"

Simon didn't seem to know how to respond to that. Gunter didn't either, and he turned back to Prismo. "There's really no other way to get to the Citadel?"

Prismo sighed. "Listen. If you guys are serious about this, all you gotta do is find a certain sleeping old man and bring him here."

"That's it?" said Simon.

"Yep," Prismo said. "He's on one of those floating islands out there. It kind of looks like an upside-down duck."

"So all we do is bring this old man back here?" said Gunter. There must be some kind of esoteric cosmic law about where old men were allowed to sleep.

"That's all there is to it," said Prismo. "For now," he added quickly.

"Simon?" said Gunter.

Simon hesitated, then nodded.

"I'll go with them," said O'Malley. "Someone has to keep that boy from hurting himself."

"No!" said Simon, then jumped and stared at him. "What? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Dude," said Prismo. "I told you, I'm not letting you outside. It's dangerous out there. You could fall into the endless abyss. I'm not really supposed to let any singulars out there."

"I see you can make an exception for your boyfriend," said O'Malley.

Prismo laughed awkwardly and said "Whaaaat? No, I'm into ladies."

"It's true," said Gunter. It was like people thought he couldn't have any friends without being romantically involved with all of them. He was almost surprised that nobody had accused him of dating his brother yet.

"Look," said Prismo. "I know Gunter. He's not gonna do anything weird. I can't let just anyone out there."

Weird was Prismo's euphemism for things that could threaten the integrity of the space-time continuum and the continued existence of the multiverse. He was taking some kind of risk just by letting Gunter and Simon outside. But it was the only way to get to the citadel and see Simon's mother.

"Not just anyone, huh?" said O'Malley. He sighed grandly. "I understand."

Gunter narrowed his eyes at him.

"Yeah, sorry man," said Prismo. "Gunter, Simon, I got you guys gifts!"

A couple of pen lights materialised in front of them. Gunter grabbed his and turned it on in Simon's face.

Simon winced. "Ow!"

"Oops, sorry," said Gunter. He turned the light down, then shone it at Simon again. "Pew, pew!"

"Let's go find that old guy," was all Simon said in response.

Gunter turned off his light. "Right." He missed the old Simon. Was it just puberty, or something else? It couldn't always be puberty. Adults had problems too. Even children had problems.

They climbed up to one of the exits, and were about to go through when O'Malley scrambled up, pushed them out of the way, and tried to leave the room. "Ow!" He smacked into the space leading to the outside like it was made of stone and stumbled back, nearly falling off the ledge.

Simon gingerly stepped through the exit, and Gunter followed.

"Gosh-darn dealing magic fairy pukes," O'Malley mumbled, rubbing his nose.

"Oh, and one more thing, guys," said Prismo. "Don't wake him up."

Gunter turned back and saluted.

Simon jumped across to another piece of rubble outside. Gunter grew until he was big enough to jump the gaps as well.

Simon was scanning the area. There was a lot of rubble, and Gunter couldn't see one that looked like a duck yet.

"I wonder what happened here," said Simon. He shielded his eyes, although there was nothing like a sun to shield them from.

"What do you mean?" said Gunter.

"To smash up all this rubble," said Simon. "Looks like something horrible happened here."

Gunter shrugged. He didn't like to think about Prismo living in the middle of a shattered, floating ruin.

"Hey, I see it!" said Simon suddenly. He pointed. "Duck-shaped rock!"

Gunter looked. "Yeah, it's duck shaped, but... it's right side up."

"Gunter," Simon began.

The rock rotated.

"Oh, never mind, now it's upside-down," said Gunter. He launched himself forwards with a clone-a-pault, and Simon followed by jumping from rock to rock.

There was a small house on top of the rock, and Gunter tried to open it, but it was locked. He started to shrink so that he could get through the keyhole, then said "Hey, Simon. Why don't you have a go at this?"

Simon shrugged. He didn't look very enthusiastic about anything, even lockpicking.

"Okay, just, just thought I'd ask," said Gunter. He shrunk, squeezed through the keyhole, fell on the other side, and grew until he was tall enough to grab the handle. Luckily it was one of those door that only locked on one side, and it opened easily.

Simon shone his flashlight onto an old humanoid lying in a bed. The guy was mostly beard, and he seemed to be having a very refreshing nap.

Gunter inspected the bed, then spawned a clone. The clone slid under the bed, lay on his back, and expanded until he was carrying the bed on his stomach. The bed rocked a bit, and Gunter put his clone's arms around it to keep it steady.

The old man mumbled and turned over, and out of his mouth came some kind of hissing shadow Prismo. Out of panic, Gunter shone the flashlight at it, shredding with the light it until suddenly, it shattered. "Ooh!" So that was what they were for.

The man groaned again, and two more shadow Prismos flew out of his mouth. Gunter glanced at Simon, and cut up the one the left while Simon took the one on the right.

Killing these things was pretty straightforward, so Gunter watched Simon out of the corner of his eye. Simon was smiling and striking a silly pose with the pen light. At least adventuring still made him happy.

Once the shadows were gone, Gunter shrunk down, crawled under his clone on his belly, and grew until he was even bigger than the clone. Now he was lying on his stomach, with his bed-holding clone securely sunk into the blubber on his back. The other option was using a lot of small clones to carry the bed like ants, but Gunter didn't know if he could coordinate that many bodies to move smoothly enough not to wake the old man up.

Gunter faced the door, and realised that he was too big to get through. He cloned himself again and grew big enough to rip the house from its foundations. They both winced at the loud groaning noise, but the man just mumbled and let a few more shadow Prismos loose.

The way back was a lot harder than getting there. Gunter had to restrict himself to only sliding between rocks that were almost touching so he didn't fall off, or worse, drop the old man. Prismo hadn't been lying when he'd warned O'Malley about the abyss.

Gunter misjudged where the edge of the rock was and nearly fell off, severely jostling the old man and making him spit out more shadow Prismos.

"I wonder what these things are," said Simon, as they destroyed them. "Why do they look like Prismo?"

Gunter couldn't shrug in this position, so he created a clone to do it for him. Maybe killing the shadows was the cosmic crime they had to commit to get to the Citadel.

After too long, they found a path back to the time room. Prismo was pacing the room inside, and O'Malley was tapping on the opposite exit.

"Oh, hey!" said Prismo. "You're back."

"I don't know what we would have done without those pen lights you gave us," said Gunter. He shrank down and scooted out from under the old man's bed.

"Okay, what now?" said Simon.

Prismo stared at the old man for a long time. Gunter wondered if the man was Prismo's father. Prismo obviously wasn't telling them everything.

"Okay," said Prismo at last. "Wake him up."

"What?!" said Gunter.

"Oh," said Simon.

"Yeah..." said Prismo. "I just wanted one last look at myself."

Simon pushed his glasses up his nose. "This guy is you?"

Gunter climbed onto the head of the bed and stared down at the man. He couldn't say he saw the resemblance.

"That's right," said Prismo. "Prismo is nothing but the dream of a wrinkly old man." He extended his neck to look at the old man -- his corporeal form -- more closely. "Man, I've gotten a lot hairier. But also... balder?" He smiled. "Tell me how that makes any sense. I look like a big old hairy raisin."

Gunter didn't like this at all. "But if we wake him up, what'll happen to you?" He knew what happened to dreams when the dreamer woke up. Sometimes he still missed his ocelot wingman.

"Poof!" Prismo said. "I'm a goner. Thus ends mighty Prismo."

Gunter stared at him. "But..." One of his best friends was offering himself up to help his brother, and he didn't know what to do.

"Killing--" Prismo began, then looked at O'Malley, who was watching intently. Gunter hoped he wasn't planning to ruin everything somehow. "Killing a guy like me is a cosmic crime. Once I'm dead, the Guardian will show up, and take you to the Citadel."

Gunter looked at Simon.

Simon said "I don't know, Prismo... I don't feel right about doing this. I wanna see my mom and all, but I can't kill you. You seem like a nice guy, and you're one of Gunter's best friends!"

"Ah, don't worry," said Prismo. "As soon as my corporeal body falls asleep again, in a thousand years, I'll be back!"

He'd said "in a thousand years" more quietly than the rest of the sentence, so Gunter tried to ignore it. It was hard, though. "Prismo," he said. "Are you absolutely positive you want to do this?" There was still a chance he could back out.

"Hold on," said Prismo. "Let me take one last look around..." He looked around the room, which was empty except for the garbage from the party, Simon, Gunter, O'Malley, and, as always, the Lich. "Huh. Thought I'd own more stuff by now." He returned his gaze to Simon and Gunter. "Let's do it."

"Prismo," said Gunter, "I'm sorry, but this is a really, really bad idea." He glanced at Simon for help, but Simon's face was unreadable. He looked at O'Malley to make sure he wasn't planning anything, but he'd pulled the brim of his hat down, and his face was also unreadable.

"Psh," said Prismo. "What could go wrong?"

Something hit them from behind and sent them flying. For a second, Gunter thought it was O'Malley. Then O'Malley landed on top of him.

It was the Lich. The Lich was moving for the first time in over a year. He was heading for Prismo's corporeal form. Gunter was running towards the Lich, but then the Lich was shaking Prismo's body and saying "Wake up," and old man Prismo was opening his eyes.

"W-wait!" said Prismo. "I've changed my mind!"

He vanished.

"Prismo!" said Gunter. "It's okay, it's okay! I can put him back to sleep, don't worry! Listen, back when Simon was a kid, you could not make him sleep for--"

"What are you two doing?" yelled O'Malley, from the exit furthest from the Lich. "Run!"

Gunter couldn't run. He had to help Prismo become alive again. If that meant being around the Lich without any defences, then fine. Anyone who said otherwise was a coward.

He heard Prismo's voice. It was coming from old man Prismo. "Hello? Who are all you people? I'm done napping, does anyone know where my house is?"

The Lich lifted old man Prismo up to his face. Gunter clenched his beak. He wanted to do something. He didn't know what to do. He didn't even know what to say.

"I think I want to go back to bed," old man Prismo continued, a little nervously. "Do you know the way home?"

Gunter tried to shout, but it came out as a whisper. "No..."

"Who are you?" said old man Prismo hopefully. "Are you here to watch over me?"

The Lich breathed out a black mist. Old man Prismo inhaled it, gasped, and crumbled to dust.

 

"No!" yelled Gunter. He built a strongman body out of clones. "Lich! Do you know how dead you are?!"

A couple of months ago, Simon had been cursed with a new heart that allowed him to create a sword out of the blood from his wrist. He summoned it now, although he didn't know how close they could get to the Lich and its death mist. It seemed to have new abilities every time they saw it.

Why had the Lich killed the old man? It wanted to get to the Citadel, and Simon wished he'd seen it earlier, but there was no reason to kill the old man on top of waking him up. Prismo seemed like-- had seemed like-- a pretty nice guy, and he knew Gunter was very attached to him.

The Lich just laughed. Before Simon or Gunter could do anything, a portal opened behind it, and a giant, veiny crystalline humanoid appeared. It shot a beam of light from its head area, and covered the Lich with crystal from its feet up. The Lich laughed again, and abruptly stopped as the crystal engulfed its head.

Gunter reabsorbed his clones, but Simon jumped onto the crystal-covered Lich. That creature had to be a Guardian, there to take the Lich to the Citadel. He needed to follow it. His mom was there.

Gunter jumped onto the Lich after him and hung off by his flipper. Simon pulled him up.

"What the blazes are you doing over there?" yelled O'Malley from across the room. He had one leg out the exit, but for some reason he was hesitating.

"I've gotta find my mom," said Simon quietly, more to himself than O'Malley. Prismo wasn't going to have died in vain.

There seemed to be a strange membrane stretched across the portal that was preventing the Guardian from taking them through all the way through, but they were already half out, and it didn't look like it would hold for much longer. They were going to the Citadel, and they were going to see Simon's mom.

O'Malley ran across the room, took a running jump, and grabbed Simon's leg. "Do you have a death wish? Were you paying attention just now?" He tried to pull Simon back into the room.

Simon jerked back, causing O'Malley to lose his grip and grab onto the crystal. "Don't touch me."

The Guardian pulled the Lich through the portal and into space. There was something cross shaped and pink in the distance, and it was getting closer.

"Okay, fine," said O'Malley. He climbed on top of the Lich, then took some crackers out of his coat and ate them. He continued in the patient, explanatory tone that Simon hated. "But, son, you gotta realise you're not thinking clearly. I know you think you're some kind of hero, but you saw what happened to that old man. You can't meet your mom if you're dead."

"It's harmless" said Simon. Prismo hadn't mentioned that you got trapped in crystal before they took you to the Citadel. Maybe if he had, he'd still be alive. "If you're so scared of it, why are you riding it with us?"

O'Malley glanced around, suddenly looking afraid. "Psh," he said after a second. "Still better than the Breakfast Kingdom dungeons."

Simon became aware that Gunter hadn't said anything since the Guardian had appeared. "Gunter?" he said. "Are you okay?"

Gunter had his flippers over his face. "No, not really."

"I'm sorry," said Simon, who wasn't sure what else to say. Prismo had seemed nice, and no one ever expected to outlive immortals.

Gunter looked up at him. "It's not your fault," he said.

"I know," said Simon. He'd been getting better at assigning blame to the right people lately.

"You sure about that?" said O'Malley from behind them. "Seems to me if you hadn't shown up wanting to see your mom, he'd still be alive."

Simon just rolled his eyes. It seemed to him that Prismo would still be alive if the Lich hadn't decided to kill him for no reason.

"He's the Wishmaster," Gunter muttered, as the Citadel got larger in the distance. It seemed to have the same kinds of veins as the Guardians. "He can't just die, that's what everyone else does, you know?"

"Wishmaster?" said O'Malley. "He never said he was a Wishmaster."

Simon was glad for that.

"If he'd've told me, I would've wished for..." O'Malley stroked his chin. "Invisibility? No, that takes all the fun out of it. Unlimited food."

"How about enough money to retire," Simon muttered. There were people who couldn't live without stealing, and he felt bad for them, but O'Malley was not one of those people.

O'Malley stared at him. "Oh, I know. I should've wished you'd realise you'll always be a crook. Maybe we could go into business together, if I can find it in my heart to forgive the times you got me put away."

Simon's imagination chose that time to start working for the first time in weeks.

Gunter took a glance at Simon's face, grew almost to the size of the Lich and flicked O'Malley off the crystal. O'Malley fell towards the Citadel, missed, and began to loop back around.

"Thanks," said Simon.

"Wish I'd done that earlier," said Gunter, shrinking back to his normal size.

The Citadel was right below them now, so they jumped off. A second later, the Lich dematerialised from the Guardian's hand, and reappeared inside the crystal ahead of them. It look very secure, and Simon was almost glad that Prismo hadn't told them the whole story. Primso may have been dead, but at least the Lich was out of the way.

O'Malley sailed overhead, yelling, before falling below the horizon.

Simon crouched down and felt the pink crystal that the Citadel was made of. The texture was a bit like ice, but it wasn't cold. He stood and looked around. The Citadel was shaped like a three-dimensional cross, with six spears of crystal all pointing at the centre of the structure. The ends of each crystal nearest the centre were covered in smaller crystals, like shards of glass. Each crystal contained a prisoner, like the Lich.

There were a lot of strange monsters frozen in the crystals. There was some sort of robust jellyfish, a spiky ball that looked like a giant flu virus, and a worm creature with crocodile-like jaws and insect-like antennae. But nothing humanoid yet.

Maybe she wasn't there. Maybe she really was dead.

"Simon!" Gunter yelled from the lowest, downwards-pointing crystal. "Come and have a look at this big human boy lady!"

Simon leaped the gap to the crystal, realising halfway that it was too far down to land safely. Gunter rose up to catch him, and put him down in front of a crystal containing a clearly human woman.

The woman was wearing blue, futuristic-looking boots, and she had skin like his. He almost never saw skin like his, even in old movies. Usually they were pale, like Finn-Ice had been. Sometimes they were much darker.

But this human had medium skin, like his. She had a red headscarf and an empty utility belt, and she looked like him.

It had to be his mother. She really was a cosmic criminal.

Simon had to look away and inspect the ground for a while. It was pink. When he looked up again, the crystal was on black fire, and Gunter was blowing on it desperately.

"Gunter?" said Simon. "What did you do?"

"Nothing!" said Gunter. "I didn't do anything! It just, just melting!"

Simon looked around wildly until his eyes landed on the Lich above them. It was still inside the crystal, but the crystal had turned completely grey. "Breadballs!" Now he saw why the Lich had killed Prismo. It could break out of the crystal at any time. It had just wanted to get to the Citadel.

Some of the prisoners had already been freed from the melting crystal, and the black fire was turning them grey. Simon didn't know what it meant, but he suspected it was related to the Lich's mind-control abilities.

"Hey!"

It was a female voice. Simon whirled around to see the woman partially free from the crystal.

"Hey, kid!" said the woman. "A little help?"

"Oh, yeah!" said Simon. He got out his nunchucks, twirled them around while he inspected the crystal, and hit it where it looked weakest, freeing her.

O'Malley fell to the ground behind them. Simon knew he should check on him, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from his mother, who was giving him a strange look.

"What's the matter?" she said. "Something in my ea-- Oh my glob it's you."

For a fraction of a second, Simon thought she was talking to him, but of course she wasn't. Of course she was looking behind him.

"Petra?" said O'Malley. "What're you doing here?"

So she was surprised to see O'Malley, but not Simon. But maybe she wasn't surprised, because she'd already seen him. Maybe the crystal kept you conscious, like the Lich had apparently been.

Before Simon could think of anything to say, Petra said "Man, you got old." She laughed. "I never thought you'd end up here."

"I hitched a ride with my young protege," said O'Malley, indicating Simon. "He seems to think his mom's locked up somewhere in this place."

"I'm not your protege," Simon growled, then jumped as the ground shifted under his feet. It still felt like ice, but now it was more like slushy, melting ice.

Petra peered at Simon and wrinkled her nose. "You're a human, right? Sorry kid, but you're out of luck. I'm the only human here." She sniffed distractedly.

"Eh..." said Simon. So she really didn't recognise him. He'd only been a baby when she'd abandoned him.

Or whatever had happened.

Petra looked around. "So, where'd you park your star skimmer? I don't wanna be around when this place melts."

O'Malley said "We don't got one," and jumped onto an intact piece of crystal nearby. Above them, the melted crystal was pooling into a globe of liquid.

Petra snorted in frustration. "I can tell you trained this one, Mal."

"If he ever listened to me, maybe we wouldn't be trapped here now," O'Malley replied, and jumped into the melted crystal and swam upwards.

"He didn't train me!" Simon yelled, as Petra jumped into the pool of crystal.

He jumped after her, followed by Gunter.

"Mom, wait!" Simon tried to yell. She seemed to be a fairly weak swimmer, but she'd had a head start.

They surfaced at the top of the pool.

"Don't you--" Simon began. A Guardian fell into the pool, creating a huge wave that washed them onto a small, but apparently solid crystal island.

Simon jumped to his feet as soon as they hit land and looked around for the Lich. He couldn't see it, but he could see the reason the Guardian had fell. There was a battle going on. All the greyified prisoners were attacking the Guardians. It was hard to tell, but Simon was hoping that the Guardians were winning. He had to go help, but he needed a better understanding of the situation. And he didn't want to leave his mom.

"Simon," said Gunter. He looked a bit smaller than usual. He opened and closed his beak a couple of times, then just said "This is bad."

"It'll be okay," said Simon. Just as soon as they figured out what they could do about it. They could run away, probably taking the unmelted crystal chunk that some of the grey criminals had started swarming over, but what about the Guardians? And the Lich was still out there somewhere.

"Yeah, listen to, uh, Simon," said Petra. She'd been lying facedown where the wave had left her. She pushed herself up into a kneeling position and wiped her face. "When the last Guardian dies, the fighting stops."

The Guardians were definitely losing, Simon decided. "I gotta help them."

O'Malley made a loud groaning noise. "Could you drop the hero act for five Grod-darn minutes?"

"I am a hero," said Simon. "And I'm not your protege! I've beaten the Lich before, and I can do it again." He just wished he had a plan.

"See?" said O'Malley to Petra. "Never listens to me anymore." To Simon, he said "Be realistic. Your mom ain't even here."

"Yes she is!" said Simon, looking directly at Petra.

"Okay," said Petra. "I know what you're implying, but I do not remember having a son."

O'Malley looked between them, then burst out laughing. "You... You two are related! And you were calling me old."

A monster flew overhead, and they all ducked.

"I thought, quick hands, must be a human trait," O'Malley continued. "Likes to talk, questions every minor thing..."

Petra sighed. "You don't know as much about humans as you think."

"Sure, he didn't get your air of superiority," said O'Malley. "But he got your skill set, all right." To Simon, he said "See? You come from a long line of career criminals."

Simon wanted to say that ancestry didn't matter, but all he could think about was his mother being a criminal like O'Malley. She might have denied being his mother, but she didn't look inclined to deny being a criminal.

"You follow the Church of the Third Moon, then?" said Gunter to O'Malley.

"What?" said O'Malley.

"I've never met anyone who wasn't raised Adrestian who calls Glob the Divine Quadruple G," said Gunter. "Adrestianity is obviously in your blood."

"Maybe I'm not Adrestian like my folks were," O'Malley conceded. "But you don't see me infiltrating the 37th Dead World just to say hi. Besides, anyone can be Adrestian, but sneaky skills like these two's don't come around every day."

Petra sighed again and said "That's great, Mal, but he's not my son. Can you see me with a kid?"

"It's getting easier and easier," O'Malley responded, looking at Simon.

Simon couldn't deal with this, so he took another look around. Most of the fighting had died down, but it wasn't because the Guardians had restored order. As he watched, the last one in view slowly sank into the pink sea. Just before it went under, it fired wildly, directly at them. It narrowly missed Gunter, and hit Petra in the head.

Simon ran to her and cradled her head. The laser had taken out a neat quarter of her head. He could see the white of her skull and the pink and grey of her brain and the red of her skin. It was too red.

She moved her remaining eye to look at him. She was still alive, but was it possible to live for long when so much of your brain was missing?

He felt like he was floating outside himself. He'd come all this way to see her, and he'd killed her. A voice in his head reminded him that it was an accident that had nothing to do with him, and was more the Lich's fault for starting the battle, but he told it to shut up.

He realised he was breathing hard and shallow. He felt like crying, but he couldn't. Adventurers didn't cry.

Someone touched his shoulder. "Son."

It was O'Malley. Simon waited for him to rub it in that he'd got his own mother killed within minutes of meeting her.

Instead, he said "Even I know the story."

"What story?" Simon heard himself say.

"The guardian blood," said O'Malley. "You being you, you've researched the Citadel."

Simon had. They Guardians were supposed to use the white sap in their veins to keep the prisoners young. It was said to be a cure for any injury, and there was a lot of Guardian blood around after the battle, but this...

Petra squeezed his hand.

Simon put her down gently and stepped into the liquid. There was a big white glob of Guardian sap on a nearby island. He walked forwards slowly, and Gunter jumped in front of him, cloned himself, and offered him a flipper. Simon took it, and Gunter helped him swim to the island.

Simon grabbed some of the Guardian blood. It was surprisingly gooey, and it stuck to itself well. He held it above the water as Gunter towed him back to the main island.

Petra was still alive. Unsure of what else to do, Simon wiped as much of the goo as he could onto her head. It was hard to get off his hands, and a lot of it went on the ground.

He stood back and waited, trying to control his breathing. It wasn't working very well.

Petra's brain was beginning to grow back. First the root-like white bits, then the pink bits around the white bits. White bone closed over her brain, then skin, then hair. Her hair was a bit darker than Simon's, but about the same thickness.

Petra no longer looked limp. She sat up, and said "Thanks." She rubbed her head where her hair was exposed, and frowned. "I liked that hijab." She pulled it forwards so that her hair was covered again.

"Mom..." said Simon.

"How many times do I have to say it?" said Petra. "I don't remember having a son."

"What about a daughter?" said Simon. It wasn't out of the question to have been born a girl somehow.

"No," said Petra, sounding exasperated.

She started to say something else, but Gunter interrupted her. "Simon! It's him!"

"Who?" said Simon, looking around wildly.

The Lich loomed over the horizon. It burned what remained of Billy's skin off its bones. It was completely naked, and it had never looked scarier.

Simon turned to look at Petra. "What do you say we put our--" She was gone. Simon looked around in panic until he spotted her swimming away. O'Malley was with her, but that didn't surprise him. He and Gunter were just going to have to do th

"Fall."

Simon's legs collapsed, and he fell on his face. He felt like he'd been awake for months, but he couldn't sleep yet. He had a job to do. He had to stop the Lich.

He closed his eyes, and heard the Lich chuckle.

Simon managed to force his eyes open. He looked over at Gunter, lying motionless just out of reach.

"You are alone, child," said the Lich.

He was alone. He and Gunter should have run when they had the chance.

If they'd run, who would be left to stop the Lich?

"There is only darkness for you, and only death for your people." The Lich allowed Simon to see the freed prisoners swarming around the chunk of fallen Guardian. "These ancients are just the beginning."

His sword. He had to summon his blood sword. Maybe he could transform it into something else. A gauntlet like Billy's, or...

"I will command a great and terrible army."

Simon collected his thoughts well enough to push the blood from his wrist into a sword-like shape, but it was strange and mushy. Concentrating on what felt like every muscle below his neck, he raised himself to a kneeling position, and turned to face the Lich.

It wasn't over as long as Simon was alive.

"And we will sail to a billion worlds."

The sword was taking too much out of him. It was worse than standing or talking. The sword disintegrated, with his skin reabsorbing the blood, and he fell onto his side, smacking into the guardian sap.

The Lich approached him. "We will sail until every light has been extinguished."

He'd failed. He couldn't get his sword back. He could barely move. He really had been deluding himself all these years.

"You are strong, child."

The Lich was putting it politely. Simon wasn't strong so much as stubborn. All he was good at was finding new ways to circumvent the rules. Just like his mother. Just like his mentor.

"But I am beyond strength."

The Lich was very close now, and Simon wished it would just get it over with. He wished he had the courage to just fall asleep and let the Lich kill him. He was still struggling, as useless as it was.

His entire life had been leading up to his death here at the ruined Citadel, but he was still struggling. Why?

"I am the end." The Lich reached its hand towards him.

Simon scratched some of the Guardian goop up in his hand. The Lich just had to walk a bit closer, and he could throw it. Like so many of his fighting techniques, he'd learned about throwing dirt in an opponent's eyes from O'Malley. As always, he was doing what he'd been trained to do.

But proving O'Malley right was orders of magnitude less important than letting the Lich destroy all of existence.

"And I have come for you, Simon."

The Lich's hand got closer and closer.

Simon did what he'd been trained to do. The goo made a wet splat on the Lich's hand, far short of Simon's target. Simon wanted to jump up and do... something while the Lich was distracted, but instead he fell back and closed his eyes.

The Lich made a choked noise, and suddenly it was a lot easier for Simon to keep his eyes open.

It had a pale, chubby human hand where the goo had hit it, and the human was spreading. Muscles and blood vessels were climbing up the Lich's arm.

The Lich screamed.

"The healing properties!" said Simon. He could speak again. He could move without feeling like he'd eaten Bonnibel's entire arsenal. He gathered up more goo and threw it at the Lich's eyes, this time hitting dead on.

The muscles and skin took over its head, and spread to meet the skin coming from its arm. Soon the Lich was covered in skin, even its horns. It collapsed.

Simon remembered where he was. He looked around to see Petra and O'Malley swimming to the same chunk of crystal that the Lich had showed him. "Mom, wait up!"

She didn't seem to hear him. O'Malley reached the vein that was the only thing connecting the chunk to the remains of the Citadel, and started climbing up.

Gunter was just pretending to be asleep now. Simon could tell. And he didn't blame him, but they weren't finished yet. "Gunter, I'm going after my mom. Finish off the Lich!"

"Huh?" said Gunter. He stood up. "Simon, no, you don't have to!"

Simon had already dived into the pink water. Petra almost reached the vein already. She climbed up, and she was much faster at climbing than swimming. By the time Simon had reached the vein, she was already halfway up.

"Mom, wait for me!" said Simon.

She glanced down, and started climbing faster.

"I know you heard me!" Simon yelled. He pulled himself onto the vein.

She reached the top, and said something Simon couldn't hear. A centipede monster leaned down and began to chew through the vein.

Simon climbed faster, ignoring his protesting limbs.

Just as he reached the centipede creature, it chewed all the way through the vein and severed the chunk from the Citadel. Simon flailed forwards and managed to grab the other end in both hands, holding the part of the vein attached to the Citadel between his knees. "Don't ignore me!"

Keeping the chunk of crystal tethered to the Citadel was even harder than climbing so fast, but it was easier than staying awake in front of the Lich. He could manage for now. He hoped.

The other end began to slip out from between his knees. Something landed on his back. "It's all right, it's all right, I've got you," said Gunter, behind him. Simon glanced around to see green flippers tie his legs to the vein.

If Simon could just pull the vein back together, they could repair it with Gunter's rope and Petra wouldn't be able to leave. She'd have to answer their questions and admit that Simon was her son. She'd have to stick around like parents were supposed to.

There was a whispered discussion on the chunk. Then O'Malley leaned his head over the side. "For a self-proclaimed hero, you're awful eager to hang around with us lowlife criminals."

"Go junk yourself, O'Malley," said Simon.

"Fair enough," said O'Malley. He withdrew his head. There was more whispering. Simon could just about make out the words "Told you it wouldn't work."

Simon wasn't strong, but with nothing pulling the chunk of crystal away from the Citadel, he didn't need to be. It was just drifting, and now that his legs were secure, he just had to keep pulling until its momentum was negated. Once it started drifting back towards the Citadel, they could take care of the prisoners, and he could start questioning his mom about her origins and culture.

He kept pulling. It almost felt like it was getting easier already.

There was more quiet discussion from up on the chunk, and suddenly it lurched forwards. Simon couldn't see what was pulling it now, but it took all his strength just to keep the vein from falling out of his grasp.

This wasn't good. There was no way he could cancel this new force on his own.

He pushed ribbons of blood out of his wrists and wrapped them around his hands, until they were like gloves. Unbreakable gloves that gripped on their own and protected his fingers. That was better. He'd never got around to formally testing his blood's strength when it was under the control of the Dragonheart, but it hadn't failed him yet.

The crystal lurched again.

Simon knew he was holding back with his blood powers. It was technically possible to make nunchucks out of his blood, for example. But they'd still have to be attached to his wrists no matter what he did with them, and some instinct told him not to overextend himself. Blood had more important uses then making him stuff he could just buy.

If there was ever a good time to overextend himself, it was now. Simon took as deep a breath as he could manage in this position, and pushed from his chest. He didn't push with any particular shape in mind. He just wanted to do what he was currently doing, but harder.

Blood exploded out of him, blowing away his shirt, waistcoat and glasses. It was more blood than he could afford, and he knew it, but he needed it more outside his body. He could survive like this for long enough, and he was definitely pulling the crystal towards him again.

The chunk lurched one more time. Simon pushed even more blood out to guard his arms. His fingers slipped away from the other end of the tube, but the blood stayed in place. He was doing this. He just needed a little more blood to completely negate the crystal's new velocity.

There was a strange pressure on his wrists now. It felt like his blood was trying to pull out of him. Simon tried to ignore it. It was getting hard to concentrate with so little blood. He could barely remember why he was doing this, but giving up now was so unthinkable that he knew it was vital.

The pressure on his wrists became painful. Simon grit his teeth. He'd been in pain before. He could handle this. The pain slipped up his arms until it reached his shoulders.

It still wasn't enough. The big pink thing with his mom on it was still trying to get away from him. He pushed more blood out of his veins, and the painful tugging in his shoulders moved down to his chest and merged. It felt like his chest was bulging.

That didn't matter. All that mattered was keeping his grip.

Just a little more blood. He pushed a little more blood out of his chest.

There was a snap.

The pressure in his chest vanished.

Simon lost his grip on the tube and flew forward so hard that he slipped out of the rope holding him to the other end. He fell into the pink water, accompanied by curtains of blood.

As he hit the water, Simon realised that his heart was gone. There was a hole in his chest, but he couldn't tell if it was bleeding. He did know that he'd lost a lot of blood. He'd probably die if he didn't do something soon. He at least needed to swim upwards and take a breath.

His red blood was everywhere, but there was also a lot of white blood that hadn't come from him. It might help. Simon reached out to it, but he was too weak to swim.

He sank.

There was white blood below him. He twisted so that he hit it chest first, and it floated into the hole where his heart had been.

The white blood slid around inside him.

Gunter appeared with several green Gunters. They grabbed him and carried him to the surface.

Simon took deep rasping breaths and coughed until he felt better, while Gunter and the Gunters brought him to a crystal island in the sea. Simon sat on the side and fingered the hole in his chest, which was now full of white goo and... something solid, but squishy. Touching it made him gasp, but he didn't seem to be dying anymore. He felt fine, even though he'd just been...

What had he been doing?

He should remember. What had he been doing before the thing he couldn't remember? He couldn't remember that either. When he'd got out of bed today, he'd... He couldn't even remember what his bed looked like. At his last birthday... He'd recently turned sixteen, but nothing came to mind about the day itself.

Simon rolled his shoulders, trying to remember anything specific about anything. He knew his own name, and that he was a human, and he knew Gunter's name, and that he was a penguin and his brother. He didn't know why his brother was a penguin. The green clones were strange as well.

He didn't even know where he was. Space? Crystal space? Was this his home? He didn't think it was, but he had no idea what his real home looked like.

"Gunter," he said finally. "I don't remember anything."

"What do you mean?" said Gunter. He had a deep voice and an unusual accent. Simon had never heard it before, but it was very familiar to him.

"I don't remember anything," said Simon. "What was I doing?"

"Oh, er... you were chasing after..." Gunther began, then seemed to change his mind. "Are you sure?"

"Yes!" said Simon. He grabbed his temples. "Did... did something bad happen? Why don't I have a heart? Is this normal for me?"

"Your heart came out while you were trying to keep your mum from escaping through that hole up there," said Gunter hesitantly. He pointed up at a hole in space. On the other side of the hole was more space. "I don't know where it is now. You say you don't remember anything?"

It sounded so ridiculous that Simon didn't really believe it, but he also remembered that Gunter wouldn't joke about something like that. "Nothing."

"Ooh," said Gunter. He looked inside Simon's chest. "Oh, wait a second, you do have a heart!" He gently brushed aside some of the goo.

Simon looked down. "Is it supposed to be blue?" He knew it wasn't. The shape was strange too. It seemed too slim and tall, even from this perspective, and he didn't think hearts came to such a sharp point at the bottom. But it was the colour that scared him the most.

Gunter shrugged. "A heart's a heart. How do you feel?"

"Uh... alive, I guess," Simon responded, trying not to think about his weird heart. He felt clogged, but not like he was dying. "Did we do whatever we came here to do?" He wanted to go home and figure out who he was. Maybe some of his stuff would jog his memory, assuming he owned any stuff.

Gunter perked up. "Oh, I nearly forgot. You told me to finish off the Lich, but..." He ran behind some crystal and came back holding a huge chubby baby. "I didn't need to! Look, it's like he's a baby now! You healed him into a productive member of society!"

Simon didn't recognise the Lich like he'd recognised Gunter. It sounded dangerous, but this baby didn't look dangerous. It just looked cute. "I guess I did." He was sure Gunter would be able to find good parents for the kid.

"And I have a way home," continued Gunter. He pulled out a letter. It was signed with a P, and the P was glowing. "Hospital here we come!" He took Simon's hand, said "It'll be okay," and touched the glowing P.

Chapter Text

The Year of The Lich
September

Simone climbed the walls of the Monster Kingdom hall one-handed, with a bundle of cobwebs dangling from her free hand. With all the cracks and unevenness in the walls, it wasn't much harder than usual. She reached the rafters, and draped the cobwebs over them in a way that she hoped looked random.

"How's that?" she called down.

Marshall Lee was on the floor, patting paper mache concrete onto the walls. He looked up and gave her an okay sign.

He was holding a party tonight. Technically it was a ball, but he didn't seem to like calling it that, and king of the Monster Kingdom or not, Simone couldn't imagine him organising anything on the same page of the dictionary as a ball. They were going for pre-pre-post-post-post-apocalyptic for this one.

She started to climb down, then stopped abruptly. The floor was covered in tiny, green polar bears. They were miniature clones of her roommate, Hilda, and each of them were carrying a scrap of newspaper that looked like it was centuries old.

Of course it wasn't. As far as Simone knew, there were no newspapers from that period at all. Uuu had been splintered into tiny kingdoms that usually preferred all natural magic over the printing press, which had been seen as witchcraft. Also, she'd soaked the newspapers in orange juice, baked them, and ripped them up herself just a couple of hours ago.

"Thanks for helping me decorate, guys," said Marshall Lee. He was floating, so he didn't have to worry about stomping on Hilda.

"No problem," said Simone. She kept her grip on the wall, while Hilda looked for the perfect place to drop all her scraps. There were a few green bears scampering just under Simone's feet, and she didn't want to crush them. The clones were disposable, but Hilda still felt their pain.

Suddenly, all of Hilda's clones dropped the newspaper scraps at once, ran back into the centre, and began to combine back into her main body. Hilda liked to grow slowly when she reabsorbed tiny clones. She could grow and shrink any time she wanted, whether she was absorbing clones or not, but she said it looked cool. Simone couldn't argue with that.

Simone checked for stray clones, then jumped off the wall, making sure not to mess up the newspaper too badly.

Hilda stood in the middle of the room and stretched. At her normal size, she came up to about Simone's stomach. "Marshall, who's going to come to this ball?"

"Party," said Marshall Lee automatically. He gave the walls one last pat, and turned towards Simone and Hilda. "Oh, everyone in Uuu is invited."

"I know that, but who's going to be there?" said Hilda.

Probably everyone who knew about it. Marshall Lee acted like a loner, but he was one of the most powerful people in the land. Simone probably wouldn't have spoken to him so casually if she'd known who he was when they'd first met. Somehow, she'd managed to keep him from noticing how unimportant she was ever since.

"All the princes, if they know what's good for them," said Marshall Lee.

Simone was pretty sure that was a joke. He wasn't the kind of ruler who needed to threaten his neighbours.

Marshall floated towards them with a menacing sneer. "You two... right?"

"Yeah, of course!" said Simone, glancing at Hilda for confirmation. They wouldn't set up for a party and then not go, what would be the point of that? She didn't know why Marshall cared so much, though.

"Bubba for sure..." said Marshall Lee.

Hilda put her paws over her eyes. "Don't tell me he's catering again."

Last time had been such a mess. Simone had had to cut her hair again. She was never going to get it to floor length at this rate. It was only just back to shoulder length, even now.

Marshall laughed. "He's not allowed to bring food within a mile of the kingdom's borders."

Simone thought Bubba and Marshall were probably friends, but it was hard to tell by talking to them.

"And let's hope the Eternal Deathclan of Darkness Redshifted bothers to stop by this time," Marshall finished.

"Your clan?" said Simone. She'd only heard him mention it once or twice, but she knew he'd inherited the position of most senior member a few centuries ago.

"Yeah!" said Marshall. "Last time everyone was too busy rooting out vampire hunters in the Fire Kingdom." He rolled his eyes.

"Heheh, I hope they come this time," said Simone, half-hoping they wouldn't. Once Marshall remembered his real friends, what would happen to her? She felt terrible about it, but it was really nice to have friends.

But everything had to end.

Marshall scraped wax out of his ear, not seeming to notice Simone's discomfort. "Yasmin-- The elder-- she says they picked up a couple new recruits. I can't wait to meet them."

"Recruits?" said Simone. "Your clan makes people into vampires?" Marshall Lee had always seemed to be against vampirism. It wasn't fun, he said, though it did give him a steady stream of inspiration for his underground folk/rock albums, which he printed on vinyl.

Marshall Lee tossed a piece of raspberry-flavoured blood candy into his mouth and sucked out the red. "We're not supposed to," he said, with his mouth full of sugary dust. "It's more of a guideline."

Simone hesitated, and said "Have you ever broken that rule, Marshall?"

Marshall Lee looked at her for a second, then laughed. "You don't have to worry about that, Momo. I'm all talk."

Simone laughed as well, trying her best to cover up the way her stomach had just plummeted.

 

The Ice Kingdom wasn't much more than a giant pile of snow with mountains poking through. To get anywhere interesting, you had to go uphill. Hilda had spent her life in and out of the Ice Kingdom, but Simone was still getting used to walking on snow. She already would've fallen twice today if Hilda hadn't been there to grab onto.

She tried to focus on keeping her weight on the insides of her feet, and said "What kind of cat did she kidnap this time?" This mission was one of Hilda's. Simone's contacts hadn't given her anything useful for days.

Instead of replying, Hilda looked at her curiously. "What were you talking about earlier? Do you want to be a vampire?"

"No!" said Simone, but she wasn't a very good liar, and she knew it. "A little. I just wanna be in his stupid clan." She hadn't been able to stop thinking about it since they'd helped set up the party. Marshall Lee's clan had known him for so much longer than she had. She couldn't see how their friendship could stand up to that kind of history unless she joined as well.

"Oh, so you're in love with him," said Hilda, much more casually than she should have.

"No!" said Simone, truthfully this time. Hilda said some weird things sometimes. "Me and Marshall? No." She liked him, but not like that.

"Who are you in love with, then?" said Hilda, as they started up the icy road to the castle.

"Nobody," said Simone. She frowned as she thought, nearly losing her footing. "Yeah, nobody. I don't have to be in love with someone." She was thirteen. She had plenty of time to figure that stuff out later. She was still struggling to understand friendship.

"If you're not in love with him, why do you want to join the EDCoDR so much?" said Hilda. If it had been anyone else, Simone would have got defensive, but she knew Hilda just wanted to understand. "Aren't you already friends?"

"Yeah, but..." Simone didn't want to jinx herself by explaining that he was going to abandon her sooner or later. The later it happened, the better. "He's really cool, okay?" She wanted him to think she was cool as well, but there wasn't much chance of that with all the other, more interesting people he knew.

"And you're sure you're not in love with him?" said Hilda.

Simone looked at the ground. "Hm..."

They reached the ice castle, and Simone put Marshall Lee out of her mind for now. It wasn't easy.

"Simone, what's our plan of attack?" said Hilda, as they stopped outside the front door.

"Let's jump in and punch her," Simone suggested. Since Hilda had just started asking Simone questions about herself instead of talking about the mission, Princess Fionnice probably hadn't kidnapped a particularly magical cat this time. Sometimes the cat was more dangerous than Fionnice was, and Fionnice was fairly dangerous.

Simone peeked into the living area beyond the front door, but she couldn't see anything, other than the swords that lined the walls, and the corner of Fionnice's bed. They ran in, to find the room empty. There was no sign of a cat in the cage, or anywhere else, and there was no sign of Fionnice.

"Are you sure--" began Simone, then jumped back as a bolt of ice magic zapped at her from above.

Fionnice was on the ceiling, one hand pointing at them, and the other holding blobs of red meat out at a skinny tabby cat. The cat had its ears back, and it was swishing its tail. It was also floating on the ceiling.

"Hey!" said Fionnice, more irritated than threatened. "Not now, kids!"

"Fionnice, let that cat go! It doesn't want to be here!" Even Simone could read feline body language. It was pretty straightforward.

"I found her wandering the fields," snapped Fionnice. "She's homeless! Why're you always trying to sabotage my rescue centre, you bookworm?"

"It's not a rescue centre!" said Simone. "You're taking these cats from their owners. How can you not see that?" Fionnice was crazy, and didn't seem to know much about proper cat care. At least this cat didn't seem to be a talking one. Fionnice genuinely didn't seem to be able to tell the difference.

Simone realised that the cat was gone. She looked around for it, just in time to see it float out the window.

"Hey!" said Fionnice, following Simone's gaze. "Kitty, come back here!" She launched after it.

Simone threw a clone of Hilda at her, but missed. They ran to the window, and Simone leaned outside. Princess Fionnice was flying after the cat, but she didn't seem to be gaining. Apparently the cat could fly quickly when it needed to.

"Quick!" said Hilda. "Your grappling hook!"

"Right!" said Simone, and took out her grappling hook gun, which was her oldest and most treasured possession. She shot it, but the hook fell short. "Rats." Her aim was terrible today. Maybe she was distracted.

Hilda looked out the window, squinting. Polar bears didn't have great vision, and she claimed that glasses like Simone's wouldn't help. "Do you think it'll lose her?"

Simone shielded her eyes. "Maybe." There wasn't much they could do now. At least the cat was out of the castle, and if Fionnice wanted it, she'd have to bring it back here, where they could reach her.

Simone wondered if it was possible for the entire castle to float. It wouldn't keep them out for long, though. There were ways to get into the air even if you couldn't fly yourself.

"Let's go home," said Simone. She didn't want to miss Marshall Lee's party for a cat that could probably take care of itself.

 

Simone always took much less time than Hilda to get ready for parties. Unless her clothes were sweaty or covered in dragon bile or something, she just went in what she was wearing. She wasn't a slob, but she didn't see why it mattered how she looked, as long as she was relatively clean and neat.

Simone sat on the couch and read a book, while Hilda blow-dried her fur for the fourth time in the last half-hour. The book was about societal norms in Lumpy Space, and it was fairly interesting, but it was hard to focus at the moment. When she found herself reading the same sentence for the fifth time without absorbing any of it, she gave up and said "I've been thinking about this vampire thing..."

"So you are in love with him?" said Hilda hopefully.

"No..." said Simone. She hoped she wasn't, because she didn't want to kiss him, and that seemed to be a requirement for love. "I just wanna join his clan. If I dressed up as a vampire, maybe--"

Hilda dropped the hair-dryer, nearly on her foot. "I have just the thing! Wait here!"

Hilda climbed up the ladder to the bedroom they shared, while Simone sat there trying to process what had just happened. She couldn't say it was just a thought now. Hilda seemed to be just as enthusiastic about Simone's appearance as she was about her own. Simone didn't mind, when it was Hilda.

Hilda came back, followed by two clones, who were dragging the trunk she kept in the attic. She obviously didn't want to get her main body too mussed up before the party. Hilda opened the trunk, revealing clothes, brushes, and strange boxes and cases. "I knew you'd change your clothes eventually!"

Simone leaned back into the couch. Hilda almost never got this worked up.

Hilda pressed some unlabelled bottles into her hands. "Go on and take a shower. Use this as shampoo, this as conditioner, this as soap, oh, and rub this on your face."

Simone struggled to hold onto all the bottles at once. "Right." She was already clean, but there was obviously something important and fashionable in these bottles. She was glad she had a good memory.

When Simone got into the shower, she almost wondered if her memory was as good as she'd thought. The shampoo didn't foam, the conditioner didn't slide, and the soap didn't seem to be getting her any cleaner, although it smelled nice. She wiped the goo from the last bottle onto her face, and it did foam. It foamed so much that it was hard to keep it from going down the drain because she could rub it into her skin, but she did her best.

When she felt she'd rubbed enough goo onto herself, she turned off the shower, put her clothes back on and left the bathroom.

"Simone, what are you doing?" said Hilda when she saw her. "Your old clothes are dirty! Put on a robe!"

"There aren't any robes in there," Simone protested. There was one in her bedroom, but she didn't bother with them when she showered, and Hilda didn't need to wear anything when she came out of the bathroom. It was fine for animals to be naked, even talking ones.

Hilda thrust a dress at her. "Never mind, change into this vampire dress. If I'm right, it'll match your complexion perfectly."

The dress was a glittery red and black, which skinny shoulder straps. Simone couldn't see what was so vampiric about it, or what it had to do with her complexion, but Hilda was the expert.

Simone went back into the bathroom and changed into the dress. It fit her well, but she felt weird not wearing pants. How was she supposed to climb in this?

Vampires didn't have to climb things. They could float. She wasn't actually a vampire, though. Yet. Maybe she should get used to not having to wear clothes you could move around in.

Could vampires still eat real food? Simone thought she'd seen Marshall Lee eat real food, but she couldn't remember exactly. Was that one of the horrible consequences of vampirism that Marshall Lee had alluded to?

She came back out of the bathroom to find Hilda setting up a chair and table with several clones. "Sit down and I'll straighten your hair and put some makeup on you."

Simone sat, feeling dazed. Now that she really was dressing up as a vampire, she was worried that Marshall Lee would actually take her up on it. But wasn't it worth it to stay his friend?

She jumped when Hilda snapped part of her hair between two flat, hot pieces of plastic. Simone had seen that thing before, but she hadn't realised it was a hair straightener. Was that why Hilda always looked so weird after she ran her fur through it? Simone didn't think polar bear fur looked good straight, but Hilda seemed to disagree.

Apparently Hilda had more than one hair straightener, because there always seemed to be at least three versions of her straightening Simone's hair at any time. Simone tensed up whenever the straightener got too close to her scalp. She wasn't a fan of heat.

Hilda seemed to know what she was doing, and even with her attention divided between three bodies, she didn't burn Simone once.

"Can I see?" said Simone when she was finished. Her normally wavy hair felt lank, but not greasy. What she could see of it looked very different, but it was too close to focus on without her glasses.

"Not yet," said Hilda, rummaging through the box. "I haven't put any makeup on you yet."

"Makeup..." said Simone. She'd never worn it before. Wasn't she too young anyway, in human years? Maybe not now that she was in her teens.

"Stay still," Hilda warned, and rubbed a brush covered in medium brown powder over Simone's face. The brush was close in colour to her skin, and Simone wondered if that was the point. Or maybe it was supposed to be invisble, and it had other properties.

One of its properties was making her want to sneeze, but Simone was good at keeping still.

Either explanation needed the powder to match her skin, she decided. "Hilda, why do you have this?" Hilda had white fur and black skin. This powder wasn't anywhere close to white or black.

"Why wouldn't I have it?" said Hilda, without pausing her steady brushing of Simone's cheek.

"It's the same colour as my skin," said Simone. "I know it's not a coincidence!" She didn't trust coincidences.

"No it isn't!" Hilda protested. "It's a few shades paler than your skin tone. I kept your skin tone in that box." She gestured at one of the boxes still in the trunk.

"Why do you have... human skin powder?" asked Simone.

"Just wanted to be prepared," said Hilda.

Simone was about to respond when Hilda started brushing around her lips. Hilda was doing her a favour, so Simone decided that she should probably stop questioning every little thing.

Hilda spent a lot of time brushing slightly differently shaded powders onto Simone's skin. Then she put lipstick on Simone's lips, plucked and drew on her eyebrows, put something on her eyelashes to make them thicker, and rubbed dark stuff around her eyes.

"Done!" announced Hilda finally.

Simone immediately sneezed three times in a row, while Hilda went to find a mirror.

Hilda returned with a hand mirror. "One more thing," she said, pointing at Simone's face.

Simone leaned over Hilda's arm, trying to get a glimpse of herself. "What?"

"Your glasses," said Hilda.

Simone leaned back defensively. "I'm not getting contacts." Hilda had told Simone a few times that she'd look nicer without glasses. Simone didn't like or trust the idea of having things in her eyes.

"At least let me clean them," said Hilda.

Simone had cleaned her glasses on her shirt before they'd got home, but she handed them over anyway.

Hilda held them up to the light, then cleaned the glasses with a cloth. She didn't ask how Simone could see through them this time, to Simone's relief.

Simone took them back. "Thanks," she said. They were definitely a lot cleaner than they'd been, even though she'd been able to see fine before. What kept making them so dirty, anyway? Maybe everything was just really dusty, all the time?

Finally, Hilda let her see herself.

Simone saw a pale, tired looking girl with straight hair and sharply defined features. It took a few seconds of staring before she saw herself. "You're amazing, Hilda!"

Hilda didn't look satisfied. "Do you think we need to dye your hair? I've never seen a vampire with brown hair."

"This is fine," said Simone, who had seen vampires with all kinds of hair colours. She'd never met any of the Eternal Deathclan of Darkness Redshifted, only heard Marshall Lee talk about them, but she'd seen pictures, and being turned didn't seem to have an effect on their hair. There probably hadn't been any need to straighten her hair, either, but there'd been time for it. Dyeing her hair would have taken hours.

Simone had never seen a vampire with red hair, now that she thought about it. She guessed that made sense, and wondered if they drank from their hair, or if they just absorbed it as it grew.

She stood up, sore from all the time spent sitting still. She hoped this worked. Time was running out.

 

The party was as crowded as Marshall Lee's balls usually were. Simone could have believed that everyone in Uuu had got the invitation and decided to go, if she hadn't already seen the entire population of Uuu crammed into one room. She'd never imagined that so many people could exist at once until that incident.

It was dark, and the music was loud, as usual. In the dimness, the newspaper and cobwebs actually looked fairly convincing.

Simone thought she saw Bubba at one of the snack tables, and made a mental note to stay away from the food tonight. Bubba seemed like a nice person, but the way he seemed didn't fit with what he did when he cooked. He was very... creative with food.

Simone eventually found Marshall Lee at the other end of the room, chatting to a girl who looked a lot like Simone felt at the moment. They were both holding red erasers on toothpicks, so Simone assumed she was a vampire.

She waited. She didn't want to interrupt Marshall Lee's reunion with his clan-sister.

While she waited, she ran her fingers through her hair. It was so limp. She tried pulling a strand over her face, and accidentally inhaled some of it. She tried to hold in the urge to cough, but it was much trickier than with sneezing. She coughed so hard it brought tears to her eyes.

Marshall Lee and the girl looked around at her.

"Oh, hey," said Marshall. "You must be one of the new recruits. What's your name? You don't have to change it, you know."

Simone briefly considered going along with his mistake, but that wouldn't work with the other girl there. She was already looking at her strangely.

Besides, she wanted to be friends with Marshall, not imitate a stranger who already was.

"Marshall, it's me," she said. "Simone the Human."

Marshall Lee peered at her, then recoiled in shock. "It really is you! What did you do?"

"Hilda gave me a makeover," said Simone, wondering if she should clarify that she wasn't actually a vampire at the moment, or if Marshall had been able to tell when he'd recognised her.

Marshall didn't seem to know what to say. "Why?" he managed. He gestured for the girl he'd been talking to to give them a second, and waved Simone out of the hall.

Simone followed him to a small side room. She took a deep breath. "I want in your clan."

Marshall laughed nervously for nearly ten full seconds. "No you don't, Simone. Aren't you like, the last human in Uuu? You gotta stay that way. You know, for your people."

Simone shook her head. Marshall knew she was the last human, but she'd still give it up to have real friends. Sometimes it was lonely to be human.

Marshall Lee laughed again.

Simone waited for him to stop.

Finally, Marshall said "Simone, I'm flattered, but you don't want to be like me. I'm, I'm not a good role model."

"I don't want to be like you, Marshall," Simone began. "I just don't want you to get tired of m--" Something flew in through the window and scratched her hard on the cheek.

They both jumped backwards.

"It's the levitating cat!" said Simone, holding her cheek.

Marshall Lee half-smiled and said "What do you mean the?"

Before Simone could respond, Princess Fionnice flew through the window, screeching "Kitty! Kitty, come back!"

Simone grabbed the cat by its front legs, but it turned into a whirlwind of claws, cutting up her hands and her dress until she had to let go.

Fionnice flew in front of her, and said "Simone? Is that really you? You're a vampire now?" She whirled around and shot some ice at the cat, which was floating out the door, but missed and froze the door instead.

"Not ye-- I mean, quit kidnapping cats!" said Simone. She'd never needed to second-guess herself about fighting. Just everything else.

Marshall Lee cracked his knuckles. "I'll take care of her."

Simone grabbed his arm. "No! You can't keep beating up an old lady. You always break her bones."

"What?" said Fionnice, in mock surprise. "Old lady? Where? I don't see any old ladies." She seemed to have forgotten about the cat for now. If they distracted her for long enough, she might forget completely.

"What's the problem?" said Marshall Lee. "She heals."

"It's bad for your image," said Simone. She'd read a lot of old books about sexism and domestic violence, and she'd drawn the conclusion that it was best for men to avoid unnecessary violence against women until the sexism problem subsided. It was a fascinating topic, and it seemed to still be relevant. "I'm here, so let me do it."

"You can't fight me when I've already frozen your hands!" cackled Fionnice.

Simone looked down at her hands. They were completely normal and unfrozen. She opened her mouth to speak.

"Made you look!" said Fionnice, shooting at her.

Simone jumped out of the way, got her legs tangled in the dress, and hit the ground face first. The ice hit her in the lower thigh, freezing it and her knee.

Marshall Lee floated over to her. He had his eyes closed and his hands up. "Now can I fight her?"

"I can handle this, Marshall," said Simone. She got to her feet with difficulty. So she couldn't bend one of her legs. She still knew what she was doing.

She blocked the next blast with her frozen leg and backed away. Obviously she wasn't as agile as she was used to in this dress, so she couldn't rely on dodging. She had to finish this quickly, for Fionnice's sake as much as hers. Hilda had hinted at Fionnice having some kind of tragic backstory, but really nobody deserved what a party full of vampires could do to a person.

"Running away?" said Fionnice, advancing on her.

"No," said Simone. She suddenly lunged forwards on her good leg and punched Fionnice in the gut.

Fionnice doubled over, and Simone punched off her tiara. She normally kicked it off, because it looked cooler and wasn't much harder, but she didn't trust her footwork at the moment.

The tiara clattered past Marshall Lee, who still had his eyes closed, and into the corner. Fionnice and Simone both lunged for it, but Simone got there first. She pushed away Fionnice with her free hand, and held the tiara out of her reach.

Hilda ran in, followed by the vampire girl that Marshall Lee had been talking to. The vampire was holding the cat, which was looking at them cooly.

"Oh, good," said Hilda. "You beat her."

"Not yet!" said Fionnice, still straining to get her tiara and her powers back. "Gave that back, you little wannabe sociologist!"

"Simone, right?" said the vampire girl. "Midnight Zephyr. Thanks for finding Winter's Long Lament. I was getting worried about him."

Simone assumed that was the cat's name. "He's the one that found you," she said, her voice a bit strained from the effort of holding the tiara in the air. "I just stopped Fionnice from chasing him."

"Is it bad for Midnight's image if she hits Fionnice?" asked Marshall Lee. He just sounded curious, but Simone knew him well enough to know he was at least half serious.

"I took care of it!" Simone snapped, then remembered what they'd been talking about before the cat had shown up. "Uh... Midnight, is your cat a vampire?" She should have wondered why it could float.

"What do you think?" said Midnight, as though it was obvious.

It would be so easy for Simone to make such a crabby cat bite her. Just put her finger in its mouth. It wouldn't be fair to the animal. But she could do it. She could become a vampire.

Marshall seemed to know what she was thinking. "Simone... I'm not gonna get tired of you. You're like my little sister."

"I..." said Simone. She looked at the cat again, and back to Marshall. "I don't..."

That was what people did, wasn't it? They were friends with people for a while, and then the alpha friend moved on. That wasn't how it was in books or movies, but books and movies weren't real life.

Did people get tired of their little sisters? Simone had never had a family, so she had no idea. They didn't seem to have problems in books.

Simone took a deep breath, and let it out. "I believe you." She found that she really did.

Marshall Lee laughed. It sounded a bit forced. "Then quit acting like a loser and come dance with me."

Simone laughed as well, knowing it didn't sound any more realistic. "I guess... family doesn't just drop people like friends. Right?" She'd never wanted to drop him, but she wasn't the important friend.

"Friends don't drop people either, you dork," said Marshall Lee. "I think you need lessons. I can introduce you to a really cool guy who can tell you all about friendship, how about it?"

"You mean Prince Finn-Ice?" said Simone, who knew that really cool guy who was excellent. She didn't know why she hadn't asked for his help earlier.

"Yeah!" said Marshall Lee. "He's the coolest."

"So strong," said Hilda.

"So kind to dogs," said Midnight Zephyr, who was still there, and had listened to Simone and Marshall Lee's discussion silently and politely.

"What a heartthrob," said Fionnice, who'd given up on getting her tiara back a while ago and was sitting quietly in the corner.

Winter's Long Lament meowed appreciatively.

 

"He's the coolest bro I know," continued Finn-Ice in the falsetto he'd been using for Simone's voice. "Once we're done with the lessons, we should take double friendship lessons just to spend more time with him." He dropped the falsetto. "And everyone laughed and laughed, and they lived happily ever after." He looked at his captives over the top of his home-made book. "What do you think?"

"Uh..." said Simon. He was frozen in a very uncomfortable position, and Gunter wasn't much better off, so he didn't want to antagonise Finn-Ice. He was fine with fanfiction, and the story had been surprisingly good in places. But others...

Gunter started to speak, and then stopped.

"Well?" said Finn-Ice. "Come on guys, don't leave me hanging." He was smiling, but he'd started to narrow his eyes.

"I liked the friendship stuff," said Simon hesitantly. "And, uh... I'm glad you didn't pair girl me up with guy Marceline." The writing had been okay, and the drawings were probably better than what Simon could have done, but pairing him-- her-- with Marceline would've put this situation over the line into unethical torture.

Finn-Ice grinned, showing his sharp teeth. "Thanks, bro!"

"But..." said Simon. A lot of questions had occurred to him over the course of the story. Was Simone supposed to be him? Did Finn-Ice really think he was that lonely and obsessed? There'd been a part about girl-Finn-Ice being crazy for kidnapping cats, so did he know he was crazy after all? How many prefixes could you really add to the word apocalyptic before it became completely meaningless?

Finn-Ice stopped grinning.

Simon tried to think of a thing to ask about that wouldn't come across as a direct criticism. "Did Simone raise herself?" he said finally. "That's impossible." If she'd never had a family before, who had taken care of her when she was a baby? Did he just not know that humans had relatively long infancies?

"Huh?" said Finn-Ice. "No! Weren't you listening at all?" His hands glowed with ice magic.

"I was, I was!" said Simon quickly. "I just don't get how she never had a family."

Finn-Ice groaned, and said "Dude, she has a grappling hook. She was obviously raised by pirates."

Against his better judgement, and Gunter's, judging by the the way he was shaking his head, Simon began "What does a grappling hook have to do with--"

"It's a pirate thing!" Finn-Ice snapped.

Simon could feel the cold emanating off Finn-Ice's hands on his face, which was the only part of him that was unfrozen. "But pirates don't rea--"

It was the last thing he felt for a while.

Chapter Text

The Year of the Sky Witch
June

The tree fort still didn't feel like home to Simon. The fact that he lived in a tree with his penguin brother, a worm, and at least two robots didn't seem strange unless he really thought about it, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he was living someone else's life.

But here he was, doing the dishes with his penguin brother like it was completely normal.

Not that Gunter was completely alien to him. Simon had the sense that Gunter was loyal, anxious, spiritual, and afraid of responsibility, and the time they'd spent together confirmed it. Their parents felt familiar as well, although they'd been dead for years. They'd been adventurous and supportive, and he missed them.

His human mother was trickier. He'd only met her a few weeks ago, and from what Gunter had said, she'd wanted to get away from him so badly that not even Simon's magic heart could keep her there. It had been ripped out somehow, which was how he'd lost his memories. When Simon thought of his human mother, he just felt incredulous and mildly irritated.

Simon was about to check on his sense of Marceline, or Finn-Ice, but he couldn't resist. He thought about himself.

There was nothing there. There was always nothing. He had a sense of who Football was, who Peppermint Butler was, and who Lady Rainicorn was, but Simon was nobody to him. He knew that, but he couldn't stop trying to get a sense of himself. It was like poking a bruise and being surprised when it hurt.

"What are you thinking about, Simon?" said Gunter, who was washing with the help of several clones. Nobody knew why he could create clones of himself, but Gunter said it was because he was magic.

Simon thought he saw one of the clones standing motionless on the edge of the sink and staring at him, but when he looked again, the clone was busying himself with a grimy fork.

"Nothing," said Simon. Then he took a deep breath. He knew Gunter was worried about him. Maybe talking about it would help. "How can I be Simon if I don't remember nothing about being him?"

"Oh," said Gunter. "Well... You're Simon. Memories or no memories. You- You know it in your, you know, your heart melon."

Simon touched his chest. It had healed, for the most part, but it was very easy to pull apart for check-ups. "My heart's a new heart. How can it know who I am?" He had to keep himself from raising his voice, though he realised that Gunter wasn't upsetting him on purpose. "Besides, Be-- Bonnibel said my melon was normal. No memory blockers." Bonnibel was a scientist they knew who was made out of bubblegum. Simon remembered her being a bit ruthless, but mostly a good person. Betty was someone else. His girlfriend, probably.

Where did the forks go? Wasn't it the overhead cabinet? Yes, that was it. Just another memory he'd lost when he'd lost his heart.

Gunter scrubbed a plate vigorously. "You know what I think? I think that losing your heart never changed you before, and it's not going to start now."

"How do you-- I lost my heart before? Seriously?" said Simon. Now that he thought about it, it wasn't that surprising. Simon seemed like a careless person.

Gunter tapped his flipper on the sink thoughtfully. "Yeah. You've lost your heart about... three times now. Hm, that's more than I thought it was."

"But I never lost my memories before," said Simon, as he searched the for the cupboard the medium sized pots went in. Memories were supposed to be in the brain, weren't they? Why was this time different?

"No, this is definitely new," said Gunter.

Simon nodded, and tried to focus on drying. Talking was just making him angrier. People kept telling him he'd done all these bizarre things, and he couldn't remember any of them.

He'd been on a couple of adventures since he'd lost his memory, and he'd spent the whole time worried he'd do something wrong and expose himself. But he'd slain the anti-gorgon, the clones had been banished to the wasteland, and the rains had come back to the village just in time, and nobody had challenged his right to do anything, even call himself a hero.

He didn't feel like a hero. He didn't even feel like Simon. He was someone else, and he was beginning to regret even telling Gunter about it. Why couldn't his mom have just stuck around? They'd just rescued her from space jail. The least she could have done was be grateful. If it wasn't for her and that other guy, he'd still have his heart, and he'd still be Simon.

He finished drying a metal plate. Where did the metal plates go? Somewhere different to the porcelain plates, or was he just making that up? He opened the porcelain drawer, but he couldn't see any metal in the plate stack.

He muttered "Math this," slammed the drawer shut, and threw the plate to the ground.

Gunter jumped. The plate clattered across the floor.

"Sorry," said Simon. He rinsed the plate off and dried it again. Simon would have known where this thing went. Why couldn't he be Simon?

"Why don't you just take a break from drying for a while," suggested Gunter. "I think I can put the rest on the rack."

Simon nodded. He sat down on the couch and put his head in his hands. "Sorry," he said again. "I'm just -- ugh -- so mad about losing my-- my memories!" He'd been about to say something else.

Gunter sat next to him. "Oh, don't worry, Simon, I'm sure they'll come back eventually!" He patted him on the leg.

"Yeah..." Simon couldn't agree. His memories were still as inaccessible as they'd been weeks ago. They weren't coming back gradually, or at all, and he'd had enough. "I don't remember nothing about my mom, but that other guy..."

"O'Malley?" said Gunter, when Simon didn't continue.

"Yeah, right, the red guy," said Simon. That sounded right. "I hate him!" His feelings about his mother were fairly mild, but when he thought about the other guy -- not his human dad, just a non-human he and his human mom both knew -- all he felt was rage.

"I don't blame you," said Gunter.

"What did he do, anyway?" said Simon. "It ain't just about the Citadel, is it?" There was a vague, painful feeling about it that he couldn't grab onto.

For a second, he thought Gunter wasn't going to tell him. "Er... no. No, I suppose you should know. He taught you how to pick locks."

"Huh?" said Simon. "Lockpicking? What's so mind-destroying about that?" He'd picked the locks on the rainflower chests just last week. It was a useful thing to know.

"And... he used you to rob houses without telling you, and when you found out he told you everyone would hate you if you told anyone else," said Gunter hurriedly. "You were six."

"Oh," said Simon. Knowing that didn't make him hate O'Malley any more or less. "Man, that's gotta mess a kid up."

"It did," Gunter agreed.

"I don't know, maybe I'm not mad at mom because she didn't do anything," said Simon. Someone who'd manipulate a little kid so nastily was probably capable of anything. "It was that guy with the eyes! He made her leave m-- He made her run away!"

"I... don't think that how it happened," said Gunter slowly. "Besides, he's in space now. With some luck, we'll never see him again."

Simon opened his mouth to agree. Then he closed it and looked out the window, towards the sky. The only thing between him and space was that sky.

 

Simon muttered to himself and scribbled heavily over the calculations he'd made. He turned the paper over, looking for somewhere to start again, but he was out of room. Why was he making this so hard for himself?

He dropped the paper on the floor with the others and started on a fresh one. It had taken him hours, but he'd finally calculated the Earth's current mass, assuming that it was ten percent less than what was listed in the old human books. So if the rim of the crater made a perfect circle with a radius of...

"Hello!" Gunter entered the study with a bowl of tomato salad, which he held out to Simon. "Are you hungry?"

Simon realised he was starving. "Uh, yeah. Thanks." He put the salad on the table next to him, and put a spoonful in his mouth as he went over what he'd written step by step. He swallowed. "Aw, not again!" Five and seven did not make sixteen. He would have noticed that if he'd been paying attention.

He rewrote the numbers from the beginning, holding the pencil so hard it hurt.

"What are you doing, exactly?" said Gunter, looking sideways at the paper. "With all the numbers."

"This?" said Simon absently. "Preliminary astronautics. I mean, uh, space navigation." He was still trying to figure out how much of an effect the shape of the Earth was going to have on an orbiting spacecraft. "I'm gonna make a rocket to space and hunt down McManus!"

"You mean O'Malley?" said Gunter.

Simon nodded. Close enough.

"Well, if anyone can do it, you can," said Gunter, a little uncertainly.

"Space travel ain't all that h- argh!" Simon had been talking, and he'd written a 14 when he'd meant to write 41. He scribbled over the paper, scrunched it up, and threw it on the floor.

"What's the matter?" said Gunter. He picked up one of the unscrunched pieces of paper off the floor and read it to himself.

"I just can't get the numbers right," Simon said. "Watch! Gimme some numbers."

"Er..." said Gunter. "Any... any numbers?"

Simon nodded, trying not to get impatient. "Yeah, any numbers. Don't care what they are."

"All right then," said Gunter. "Er, five, nine, seventeen and... two."

Simon wrote down the numbers as quickly as he could. He glanced down. "Look, I wrote nine five seventeen two!" And the seventeen looked more like an eleven.

Gunter inspected the paper. "Oh, you did too. You know what that is, it's probably your dyslexia."

"What do you mean my..." Simon began. "I got dyslexia?" He should have realised the first time letters had started shifting on the page of his book. He'd just moved out of the sun and thought vaguely about using his tinted lenses if the problem kept up.

He was such an idiot.

"Oh, you didn't know," said Gunter, sounding like he was speaking more to himself than to Simon. "Why don't you talk to Football? She can help you with the numbers."

"I don't need any help!" Simon snapped, then reconsidered. If he wrote a program to do the arithmetic for him and ran it on Football, it would be kind of like using a sophisticated calculator. Calculators were allowed. "Sorry. I gotta stop being so mad all the time. Let's hope this works, huh?"

Gunter fidgeted. "What are you planning to do, once you're in space?"

"I'm gonna punch the guy so hard he'll lose his memories just like he took mine," said Simon. He wished he could picture it, but sometimes he couldn't even remember his own face.

"That's not like you," said Gunter.

Simon shrugged. What else was new.

 

Gunter had just put the tuna casserole in the oven when a bat flew up behind him. "Hello, Marceline," he said, without looking around.

Marceline sighed, and changed back into a humanoid. "This used to be more fun." She peered over the top of Gunter's head. "What are you making?"

"Just a casserole," said Gunter. "It's yellow -- you wouldn't like it." Marceline also didn't like fish much, even when it was red, which could sometimes be a problem when she came over.

"Where's Simon?" Marceline added. She looked around the room as though she thought Simon was hiding in it, something he hadn't done since he'd lost his memories.

"Oh, he's out in the desert." Gunter wasn't sure Simon had slept at all in the past couple of days. He'd be so glad when all of this was over. Maybe Simon would even smile again.

Marceline inspected the casserole through the oven door. "The Desert of Doom? I just gotta ask him why he requestioned so many gallons of jet fuel from my kingdom's museum. Boring stuff."

Simon hadn't mentioned doing that, but of course the ship would need fuel. "Oh, that's probably for his rocket," said Gunter. "He's trying to get into space, get revenge..."

"Does he want revenge on his mom for leaving him?" said Marceline. She sighed hugely. "I'm worried about him. He's been so down lately."

"You're not the only one," said Gunter. Simon hadn't been very happy even before they'd gone to the Citadel, but his lack of memory wasn't doing him any favours. "I think he'll be doing a lot better once he's got into space."

Marceline chuckled. "Yeah, space." She looked at Gunter's face. "You really think he's gonna do it? Rockets haven't even been reinvented yet."

"Simon says it's not that far," said Gunter, surprised that Marceline didn't think he could do it. As far as Gunter was concerned, if it needed you to be smart, Simon could do it. "He says there are a lot of places -- not in Uuu, obviously -- a lot of places that are further from the ocean than space."

Marceline looked up at the sky out the window. "You think he can really do this, and you're just sitting here making fish muck? He could get hurt!"

Gunter waved a flipper. "Oh, he knows what he's doing. He'll be fine."

"He's sixteen!" said Marceline. "Parental abandonment can mess you up, Gunter." She turned back into a bat and flew over Gunter's head, towards the window. "I'm gonna go check on him."

"Wait!" said Gunter. He turned off the oven and climbed out after her. "He needs his space!"

 

Simon had established a base in a relatively flat, skeleton-free part of the desert. He'd even dug up the sand to a depth of ten feet to make sure there wasn't anything important down there. Rocket flame was pretty destructive stuff.

Simon backed up a dune to get a good view of his creation. He'd started with a pile of scrap metal, some circuits and several drums of rocket fuel, and now he had an entire rocket. It was rougher on the outside than he wanted, but he couldn't make it any smoother without heavy machinery. He didn't even know where he'd learned to work metal this well.

The original plan had been to use ice, because it was easier to carve than metal and the Ice Kingdom wouldn't have missed it, but Simon had forgotten how hot rockets could get from air friction. He didn't want his engines to melt before they could get out of the atmosphere.

Most of the height of the rocket came from the fuel tanks. Getting even a small object to space required a lot of fuel, so much that he'd had to set up the rocket to drop the tanks once they were empty, so that the remaining fuel didn't have to go towards hauling them up. It was the same technique that humans had used to get into space in the 20th and 21st centuries.

There was a small, pointed cockpit at the top of the rocket, and an empty cylinder below it that Simon was thinking of using to store things in. He wouldn't be taking much on his first flight, but if he didn't find O'Malley straight away, he could leave the storage area in orbit and add more to it later, kind of like the International Space Station of olden times.

Hopefully, he'd only need to make one trip. He just had to get into orbit, and he'd work things out from there. The rocket had a parachute, so whatever happened, he could come back down afterwards.

He wondered what O'Malley looked like. He was red and white, wasn't he? Some of it was clothes, and some of it was... fur? He couldn't remember.

Simon took a deep breath, and climbed to the top of the rocket. He pulled himself into the cockpit, and Football waved at him from the control panel he'd built her into.

"Ready, Football?" said Simon. He was glad she was there. She had superhuman calculation abilities, even if she normally downplayed them, and she'd even promised to keep whatever happened up in space a secret if it needed to be.

Football squealed in delight, and said, "Simon, Simon, can I do the countdown?"

"Sure," said Simon. He sat in the pilot's seat and stared out the front window at the sky. He was really doing this.

And maybe afterwards he could sleep.

Football counted down from ten, laughing between numbers. Simon didn't mind. It was just the two of them, so the countdown wasn't vital. When Football reached zero, Simon turned on the engines. After a second of uncertainty, a force pressed him against his seat, and the rocket began to climb. The force he was feeling was acceleration. They were moving away from the Earth so quickly that it felt like gravity had increased several times.

He wanted to look outside, but instead he stared at Football's altitude display. They were too low to do any steering yet. It was more fuel efficient to lean the rocket over gradually as they climbed, but Simon was a bit concerned about the rocket's stability at this height. Once they were out of the atmosphere, then they could turn the rocket sideways. With enough horizontal force, Earth's gravity would still pull them down, but they'd be going so fast that they'd miss the planet completely. And then they'd be in orbit.

He climbed higher. The sky was getting darker, and the horizon was beginning to look curved. What he could see of Uuu was tiny against the blue of the ocean, and shrinking fast.

There was a jolt, and the high gravity vanished.

"The first fuel tank is empty, Simon," said Football, flashing a low battery sign on her screen for effect.

"Drop it," said Simon. This was going perfectly so far. No engine failures or any sign of them -- he'd been very clear to Football that she had to tell him if something looked like it might go wrong.

He heard the first stage of the rocket fall away, and engaged the engines of the second one, bringing back the feeling of heavy gravity. This stage didn't have as strong an engine as the last one, but they were out of the thickest part of the atmosphere, and they didn't need a whole lot more upwards force.

Simon tapped his fingers on the control panel as he watched their altitude. It still wasn't a good idea to try to tip the rocket over yet. Even at this height, the atmosphere would drag on the a rocket a little. He had to get at least a hundred miles up. Preferably higher.

There was a deafening bang from below, and Simon jumped. "Football, what was that?"

Football made an uncertain noise. "I think it came from the storeroom."

Simon tried to jump out of his chair, but the rocket was accelerating too quickly. He climbed out of his chair instead, and entered the hatch at the bottom of the cockpit. He'd come too far for anything to go wrong now. He wouldn't let it.

 

"Marceline, stop!" Gunter called. It was a little painful to belly slide on sand, but there was no river around here, and he couldn't keep up with Marceline's bat form any other way. He slid up a whale skeleton, took a breath to call out again, and inhaled the sand Marceline was kicking up with her wake.

When he could see again, they were coming up on Simon's scrap metal rocket, which Gunter was beginning to wish had been better camouflaged. For a split second, he could see something move at the very top, then there was nothing.

Marceline had to take a second to circle around the rocket and find the entrance, allowing Gunter to gain some ground. As Marceline aimed up at the cockpit door, Gunter shrunk himself, used a clone to pick himself up, and flung himself in her direction.

He hit her on the left wing and grew as quickly as he could to weigh her down. Before she could fall completely, Marceline turned back into a humanoid, and Gunter nearly lost his grip. She grabbed the storage door with her right hand, opened it and climbed in.

Gunter tried to pull her back out, but she slammed the door shut. "Gunter, let me go!" She grew claws and stabbed at him, trying to knock him off.

Gunter shrank down and climbed onto her back. "This is healthy!" he insisted. "You can't just interfere with the healing process like this!"

Below them, there was a roar, and something pulled them down. Gunter finally lost his grip and hit the floor painfully.

"He's really doing it," said Marceline. She crawled towards the ladder that led to the ceiling trap door.

"I told you so," said Gunter. He could feel the clone he'd left on the ground shrink away from them, amazingly quickly.

Marceline pulled herself to a standing position with the ladder. "There's still time to turn around."

"No!" Gunter grabbed her leg. "You'll set him back weeks!" He just wanted Simon to feel better. He also wanted to cook his casserole. He was trying out a new spice blend.

His clone fell out of range and disappeared with a sharp sting. But he could still feel the Earth rushing away from him.

Marceline hissed and feigned biting Gunter on the flipper. Gunter spawned some more clones, who all tackled her and managed to bring her down to the floor. She threw them off, and Gunter prepared to swarm her again. But he was having trouble concentrating on fighting with the Earth so far below. The further up they went, the more he felt like something was unfurling inside him.

Marceline seized on his hesitation and pounced on one of the clones, disembowling it.

"Argh!" said Gunter. Marceline didn't mess around when she went for the kill. He stood in front of the ladder and gathered his remaining clones behind his main body, which Marceline wouldn't dare attack with full strength.

"Get out of the way, Gunter," said Marceline. She headbutted him, and he flinched, but stayed where he was. "This is messed up. Revenge doesn't work. Take my word for it!"

"Football's with him," said Gunter. He clamped down on his clones, which for some reason, really wanted to grow. "He'll be fine."

The pressure inside the clones was too strong to resist. They expanded, briefly pressing Marceline and Gunter's main body against the walls, before exploding with a bang that made the rocket engines seem quiet.

Gunter collapsed backwards.

"Gunter?" said Marceline. She bent over him and checked his pulse.

"Oh no," Gunter mumbled. He tried to get up, and failed. Simon had to have heard that bang.

From his back, he had a good view of Simon angrily climbing into the storage area. Halfway down the ladder, he lost his grip in the high gravity and crashed to the floor.

Simon pushed himself up to his hands and knees. "Marceline! Gunter! What are you two doing in here?" He crawled over to Gunter and looked at him more closely. "Gunter? What's wrong?"

"Is it something I did?" said Marceline. She'd killed his clones before, although not as painfully, and he'd been fine.

"The planet falls away," mumbled Gunter. "The chrysalis blooms." He didn't know what that meant, but it was what he was thinking.

"The planet," said Simon. He tried to lift Gunter up, but he was too heavy. "You mean Earth?"

"I can't... hold together," said Gunter. He did know what that meant. Sort of.

He closed his eyes.

 

Simon shook Gunter gently, but it didn't look like he was going to wake up. His breathing was slow and deep, and his head seemed hot, and somehow stretched.

"The planet," said Simon again. What else could Gunter have meant but the Earth? The further they got away from the Earth, the sicker Gunter was getting.

He stared up at the ceiling of the storeroom. Did penguins do poorly in low gravity or something? That couldn't be it. They were still in high gravity, and they'd been in high gravity before. The air pressure was the same as always, so it couldn't be that, either. It had to be the physical distance from the Earth.

If he was sick at this height, how much sicker was he going to get?

"You have to turn this thing around, Simon," said Marceline. "You can't deal with your issues like this. It'll just make you madder!"

Simon pulled himself up the ladder. "Stay with him."

Marceline made a sarcastic noise as he climbed back into the cockpit.

The sky out there was really dark now. Simon scanned it, looking for... he didn't know what. Some sign of O'Malley? He didn't seem to be immediately above Uuu anywhere. That was one region of space eliminated.

One tiny, tiny area of Earth's sphere of influence, which was much bigger than the Earth itself. And the Earth's sphere of influence was tiny against the Solar system, which was the sphere of influence of a single star. There were more than two hundred billion stars in the Milky Way galaxy.

Two hundred billion was also the lower limit on how many galaxies there were in the universe. Space was really, really big, and O'Malley could be anywhere in it.

Simon looked up at the sky again. It was blank.

He thought about Gunter, unconscious in the storage room, and what Marceline had said.

What if O'Malley was just on the other side of the planet, and Simon did find and punch him, but Gunter died from being so far up? Would it be worth it? He couldn't even remember what kind of person O'Malley was. Maybe a fox?

Simon punched his palm with his other hand. It wasn't very satisfying.

He took a deep breath, let it out, and turned off the engines.

Like before, gravity abruptly went back to normal. But even though they weren't accelerating, they were still flying upwards, so quickly that even the mass of the entire Earth could only slow them down slightly. "Football, display the time until apogee," Simon said.

"What?" said Football.

"Until gravity brings us down," Simon corrected himself.

"Oh, do we have to come down already?" said Football. "Can't we keep going?"

"Gunter's sick," said Simon. Every second they spent climbing out of Earth's atmosphere was making him sicker.

"Stupid Gunter," Football mumbled. She flashed some numbers on her screen.

"Football!" said Simon. He still had no idea why Gunter and Marceline were in his rocket, but Gunter had promised not to interfere, so he must have had a good reason for stowing away. And now he was dying.

It would be a long time before gravity pulled them down on its own, so Simon slowly began to turn the ship upside down. The floor shifted smoothly below him, until it became the roof. When the nose of the rocket was pointing at the ground, Simon reached up to the control panel, which was above him now, and turned the engine back on. That should help cancel out their momentum.

Gravity began to lower. Simon drummed his fingers on the upside-down window, waiting for it to disappear completely, which would signal that they were starting to fall. What he really wanted to do was check on Gunter, but he had to be here to turn the engine off when they started falling. As much as he wanted to get down as quickly as possible, they had to slow down again before they hit the ground, if they wanted to survive the journey.

For now, the Earth didn't seem to be moving at all. It hung huge in the sky, dominated by the crater left by the war. Simon could see right inside it, but he couldn't make out any details. He had a vague memory of seeing food fly out of it once, but the image dissolved before he could grab onto it.

Now wasn't the time to worry about his memories.

When he could no longer feel the force of gravity, Simon turned off the engine, pushed off the front window, and managed to climb through the storage room door. "How's Gunter?"

Marceline was floating near the ladder, putting pressure on Gunter's head. "Not good. I think his brain's trying to come out." She made a face. "Have you ever seen anything like this?"

Simon shook his head, trying not think about Gunter's brain spilling out. "There's never been a penguin in space before." As far as he knew. Humans hadn't done much space stuff before the Mushroom War.

"Hmm..." said Marceline. "Yeah, that's true."

Simon held onto the ladder and tried to look at Gunter, whose chest was rising and falling very slowly. "He wouldn't be sick if it wasn't for me."

Marceline chuckled. "Simon, you haven't changed a bit. Gunter's the one who thought..." She gestured around. "All this was a good idea. There's no way he doesn't forgive you."

Gunter had been really supportive this whole time, it was true, but would he stay that way now that Simon's hang-ups had threatened his life?

He refused to consider that Gunter might never get the chance to be angry at him again.

Marceline broke into his thoughts. "Simon, quit it. If he's mad when he wakes up, I'll handle it. He only came in here to stop me from stopping you from getting revenge on your mom."

"My mom?" said Simon. Why would he want revenge on her? He was ninety percent sure she hadn't even done anything wrong.

"I'm glad you didn't go through with it," said Marceline. "Take it from me, it doesn't make you happier."

 

Gunter woke up from dreams of being crushed to find himself at home, in his drawer bed. He had a headache, but the Earth was only a few feet below him, like it was supposed to be. He groaned in relief and looked around the room.

Simon was sitting on his bed, reading some fantasy barbarian novel. He glanced up and smiled. "Gunter! You're awake! How do you feel?"

"Oh, I'm all right" said Gunter, who was more worried about Simon. "What about you, how do you feel?" Simon seemed calmer than he'd been for days. "Did you get your revenge after all?"

Simon shook his head. "Wait here, I'll get you some ice water." He climbed down the ladder to the kitchen.

Gunter wondered if Simon had got his memory back already. Ice water had always made Gunter feel more comfortable. Simon liked it as well, but he mostly seemed to enjoying chewing the ice, which hurt Gunter's beak.

Simon came back with a glass of ice water, which he gave to Gunter. "You getting sick was kinda a wakeup call about priorities and junk."

"Don't worry about me," said Gunter. He took a sip of water. It was wonderful and cold. "Just do whatever you need to do."

Simon sat on his bed and shrugged. "Gunter, I think you were right. It's not like me to hunt someone down."

"Er... when exactly did I say that?" said Gunter. That was absolutely like Simon. It was more or less what he'd been doing when he'd lost his memories.

Simon looked surprised. "You know. When I said I wanted to find O'Malley and punch him so hard he loses his memories."

"Oh," said Gunter. He vaguely remembered that. Everything that had happened before space seemed strangely grey. "No, I think what I meant was the punching. The punching, that wasn't like you." Simon wasn't much of a bare-handed fighter, unless he had no choice.

"Huh..." said Simon. "Well... who needs revenge anyway? Right?"

Gunter didn't really understand, but he nodded. "Let's just stay on Earth for now." He gulped the rest of the water, and crushed the ice in his beak until it was nothing.

Chapter Text

The Year of the Lich
August

Simon woke up to find that he'd kicked off his blanket again. That happened a lot in summer. He could never sleep without some sort of covering, even when the weather was warm. He didn't like being sweaty either, but sleeping without a blanket just didn't feel right.

He tried to roll over, out of the damp spot where he'd been lying, but he couldn't. That was strange. He gave up on that, and he tried to reach for the glasses on his bedside table. But he couldn't do that, either.

This wasn't normal. Suddenly completely awake, Simon tried as hard as he could to move. Nothing. He could only move his face. And his lungs, because he was still breathing. And he assumed the rest of his organs were working as well, because he felt fine, other than the sudden tightness in his chest.

Gunter was still asleep. Simon could tell because he was looking right at him. "Gunter!" he yelled. At least his voice still worked.

Gunter didn't react. Simon wanted to get up and cover the nostrils at the base of his beak, which usually worked. But he couldn't. "Gunter, wake up! Gunter!"

Gunter mumbled, then opened his eyes. "I don't have any more radishes..." he said.

The only part of Gunter that was moving was his face, but Simon hoped he was just overthinking things. "Gunter, I can't move."

"Well..." Gunter began. He frowned, and began again. "You just... And I can't move either."

Simon took a deep breath to stave off the panic. Sometimes adventures began the instant you woke up. That was just how adventuring was.

It wasn't working. He couldn't move, Gunter couldn't move, and Football wasn't scheduled to escape from her self-inflicted live burial until tomorrow. How had this happened? Was there anyone that hated them this much?

Simon became aware of a wooshing coming from out the window, but he wasn't looking in that direction. Gunter sort of was, but Simon was pretty sure he couldn't see outside, either.

Gunter grunted with effort, but he obviously couldn't turn his head any more than Simon could. "What is that?"

The wooshing came in the window and passed right by Simon's ear. "Hey guys!"

Simon knew that voice. There was only one person who sounded that much like a cartoon. "Finn-Ice? What did you do to us?" He should have known. Finn-Ice had been spying on them a lot lately. He seemed to think he was being stealthy about it, but he really wasn't.

"That's exactly what I'm talking about," said Finn-Ice. He reached his hand into Simon's field of vision and wagged his finger at him. "Rudeness."

"Ruden--" said Simon. "I'm being rude?!" He was really not in the mood for this. He hadn't even had breakfast.

Finn-Ice withdrew his hand, said nothing for a second, then said "Oh yeah, you can't move your head!" He floated into Simon's vision with his arms folded. "Like I was saying, nope. Not falling for it this time."

Gunter sighed. "What are you talking about? Why can't we move?"

"Oh, yeah," said Finn-Ice. "I'm doing you guys a royal favour! I've seen the way you act when I'm around. I can tell you're trying to impress me, and... dude, you are bad at it."

"You gotta be joking," said Simon, but he knew he wasn't. Finn-Ice's understanding of jokes didn't go much beyond puns.

"The only joke round here is your totally unbloobly friend-styles!" said Finn-Ice. "You're gonna be the worst minions in history if you don't shape up."

"Er..." said Gunter. "Then... we promise to shape up?"

Simon tried to nod, then said "Yeah, we're gonna do a lot better. Now unfreeze us."

Finn-Ice looked around. "Unfreeze you? What? I didn't freeze you. What are you talking about?"

Simon took a breath to doubt him.

"Oh yeah," said Finn-Ice. "I used this!" He held up a bottle labelled "freezing potion A".

"Freezing potion A?" said Simon. "Are there other types of freezing potions?" He knew now wasn't the time, but he was curious.

"What?" said Finn-Ice. He shrugged. "How should I know? Ron James is the potion nerd. He even made an antidote." He held up another, almost identical bottle labelled "unfreezing potion A". The labels were so similar that Simon hoped Finn-Ice wouldn't get them confused.

Of course he would. He was the biggest idiot in Uuu.

Finn-Ice put the bottles in his tunic and clapped his hands. "Okay, time for your first lesson." He picked Simon up effortlessly and added "Ever."

"Hey, put me down!" said Simon. The cold of Finn-Ice's artificial arm was even worse when there was no way to squirm against it.

Finn-Ice lay him on the couch downstairs, then flew back and studied him. "You sleep weird, Simon."

"It's comfortable," said Simon. It was nice to curl up under a blanket. Not so much on a couch, though.

"It looks nerdy," said Finn-Ice. He grabbed Simon by the hair and pulled him into a sitting position.

"Ow!" said Simon. "Hey!" At least he could see more from this angle. The room looked a little more cluttered than usual, but sometimes Gunter went on late night cooking binges, so that was probably what it was. Maybe. If they were lucky.

Finn-Ice flew back to the ladder. "Later, sleep nerd."

He came back a second later with Gunter, who he put next to Simon.

Simon and Gunter looked at each other. This was shaping up to be a bad day if they couldn't talk him down.

"Now--" began Finn-Ice, turning away from them. He gasped. "Hey! Where the dump is the blackboard? Jake! Jake, come here!"

Jake bounded out of the next room, wagging his tail.

"Don't give me that, Jake!" said Finn-Ice. "You were supposed to set up the blackboard! All you did was knock all this junk down! Bad dog!"

Simon tried his best to look around and see what Jake had done to his living room, but he couldn't. He was going to freak out if this kept up.

Finn-Ice pulled the blackboard into view. It had been completely erased of Simon's map of hypothetical postbellum wind patterns, and even of the little Bonnibel he'd doodled in the corner.

Simon had to stay calm.

"Don't mess with my blackboard, Finn-Ice!" he burst out.

Finn-Ice patted his tunic. "I know I put it some..." He pulled out the bottles of potion, put them on a high shelf out of the way, and kept searching through his pockets. Bits of soggy kibble splattered across the floor. "Oh bleep-blorp! I left the chalk at home!"

Simon nearly pointed out that there was plenty of chalk in the house, but remembered why Finn-Ice wanted it just in time. It was hard to concentrate when he was this close to a panic attack.

He held his tongue until Finn-Ice flew out the window, then screamed. "Butt freaking pimple on on the universe's... butt!"

"Feeling better?" said Gunter when he was finished.

"A little," Simon lied.

Jake looked up at the window Finn-Ice had left through, then jumped on the couch and pawed Simon on the legs. He looked up at Simon expectantly.

"Uh, sorry," said Simon. "I can't move!" He never really knew what to do around dogs. At least the kind that didn't talk. Talking dogs were like anyone else, mostly.

"I suppose we could wait it out..." Gunter suggested. "When he tells us whatever he thinks we need teaching, he'll let us go."

Jake started licking Simon's face, and Simon tried to lean away. "I guess so. But I don't wanna wait. He's gonna think this is okay. He already thinks it's okay!" It was times like these that Simon wondered why he'd ever felt even a bit sorry for that maniac. "I think I might know what to do..."

"What are..." Gunter began, then seemed to realise. "Oh, the astral beast? I dunno, Simon, it's, it's never worked before."

"I know," said Simon. He and Gunter both agreed that everyone was psychically connected to at least one creature from the astral plane, but neither of them had ever been able to summon their own. "But this time-- I always get distracted, right? I can't get distracted this time. I can't move!"

"Well... okay," said Gunter dubiously. "Worth a try."

Simon closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind. He'd never been good at that. He didn't understand how it was possible to just make yourself stop thinking. He was always thinking, and the thought of not doing it scared him a little.

Meditation wasn't working any more than usual. It was working less, because he kept worrying about what other parts of his house Finn-Ice and Jake had messed up. Instead, Simon imagined what the astral plane might look like. It didn't really have an appearance, from what he'd read, but a visual might help him focus, so he imagined being engulfed a swirly void. "Astral beast!" he imagined yelling. "Arise, astral beast!"

Nothing happened. This was usually the point where he gave up, but that wasn't an option this time.

 

Simon mumbled something that Gunter couldn't hear. Gunter did his best to point his eyes in Simon's direction, but he still couldn't really see what his brother was doing. He hoped it was something helpful.

He was probably going to be a while. Astral beasts were notoriously hard to summon. Either they were testing their summoner's worth, or they were just lazy, Gunter wasn't sure. Maybe it was both. Astral beasts seemed to have the right idea about how to live life.

Below him, Jake was wuffing. Gunter looked down as far as he could, and saw that he was standing with his front paws outstretched. "I can't play with you right at the moment," said Gunter. "Sorry about that. Not a good time. Frozen."

As Jake started to bark, Finn-Ice crashed through a closed window. "Hey guys, I got the chalk!" He held out a tiny stub of chalk that wasn't much longer than his fingernails.

"You... You're going to pay for the window, right?" said Gunter, although he suspected that he knew the answer.

Finn-Ice turned to the blackboard and started to draw a wobbly line, then paused. "Hey, wait a second! I don't even need this yet! Whoops!" He tossed the chalk out the window.

Gunter ground his beak.

Finn-Ice pulled a couple of bags of chips out of his tunic and threw them at the couch. "Oh yeah, I got you guys a healthy breakfast. Carb loaded and full of protein!"

Gunter eyed the chips. He was hungry, but he'd been brought up not to have junk food for breakfast. It wasn't a proper meal without at least a little fish.

"Aren't you gonna open them?" said Finn-Ice. "Come on guys, I had to go to the grocery kingdom to get these."

"Frozen!" said Gunter.

Finn-Ice folded his arms. "Playing the victim like always, Gunter." He brightened up. "Anyway, the first lesson will be walking in each other's shoes. Watch!" He pinned his hair under his crown so that it looped back up at shoulder height, then made himself an bow tie and shoulder bag out of ice. He tried to pull the legs of his pants down to match Simon's pants, but gave up after a few minutes.

Gunter watched him as he straightened up. His hair was far too thin to work like Simon's. He just looked like he had two white loops hanging down from either side of the crown.

"It's role reversal time!" announced Finn-Ice finally. He struck a pose. "I totally want to kiss you, Bonnibel, even though you're way older than me!"

Gunter wanted to check on Simon's reaction, but he still couldn't see his face. Maybe he was too far into the astral plane to have heard.

"Oh wowsers!" continued Finn-Ice. "I'm too weak to stop the monster hordes! It's time to save the day with my advanced nerdery!"

He approached Simon and stared down at him. "Simon? Isn't it weird meeting your clone? Simon?"

Simon didn't respond. He really was in the astral plane, and Gunter was beginning to feel very alone. But he appreciated that Simon wasn't around to see... whatever this was.

"Are you asleep?" said Finn-Ice. "Simon?" He moved closer. Out of the corner of his eye, Gunter could see him pick up Simon's wrist, then drop it. Then he moved into Gunter's sight, looking grave. "I'm sorry to tell you this, Gunter, but your brother is... dead."

"He's not dead!" said Gunter, suddenly worrying that Finn-Ice was right and that the astral plane had somehow killed him. "He's just asleep. Can't you tell the difference?"

Finn-Ice pried open one of Simon's eyes, let it close again, and said "Oh yeah. That too. Guess I have to dress as you." He began to pull his tunic up.

Gunter glanced down at what he could see of his body. Clothes weren't mandatory for penguins, but for humanoids... "Stop!"

"Huh?" said Finn-Ice, with his tunic over his head. "You don't have to be scared, Gunter. It's just me."

"No, I'm not-- I'm not scared," said Gunter quickly. "It's just that... er... My religion. It's against my religion to see a graven image of... of myself, you know. So you can't imitate me." Across from him was a picture of himself and Simon with their arms around one another's shoulders. Gunter tried not to look at it.

Finn-Ice dropped the hem of his tunic. "Oh! Gunter, you should have told me! Rule number forty-six of friendship: don't offend peeps. That's a freebie." He patted his ice shoulder bag. "I'm gonna have to stay as Simon for a little longer." He grinned. "Bro."

Gunter shuddered.

 

Simon was beginning to feel like he was dreaming, which he hoped was a good sign. He still could feel his physical body, but it seemed to be paralysed. He couldn't even open his eyes.

Wait, his body had been paralysed since he'd woken up. It was just his eyes that had changed. He really was asleep. And for once, he knew it.

It was exciting enough to wake himself up over. He'd been trying to lucid dream for a long, long time.

Simon forced himself to calm down and focus on the astral plane. Now that he was definitely asleep, maybe he could lucid dream up his beast. He concentrated on the idea of astral beasts one more time, but it still didn't seem to be doing anything.

He spun around a few times. His astral body was definitely not paralysed. It even seemed to be capable of getting dizzy.

A presence stirred. Simon didn't know if he was imagining it or not, but it felt like it was waiting. Maybe it wanted him to prove himself somehow, but there were no adventures in this weird swirly void. There was nowhere to hide here, and no puzzles to figure out.

He could keep a beat pretty well. Simon looked at his hands, and clapped them in a simple rhythm. This would have to do for now.

 

"Minons should always be aware of blah, and blah blah blah, and if they blah, they gotta blah, okay guys?" said Finn-Ice.

Gunter had given up even pretending to acknowledge what Finn-Ice was saying. He'd been rambling for more than three hours now. Gunter knew because he was directly facing the clock.

"When you're out blahing at blah, for the love of Glob, do not do whatever," Finn-Ice continued, with a finger raised.

Gunter wondered if Finn-Ice thought real lectures replaced important words with "blah". He also wondered if Finn-Ice had ever attended a real lecture, although to be fair, Gunter wouldn't have either if it hadn't been for Simon.

"Let's blahmonstrate with a diagram," said Finn-Ice. He turned to Simon's blackboard and made a writing gesture. "Hey..." He stared at the board for a while, then at his hand.

Surprisingly, Gunter wasn't hungry yet. Normally skipping breakfast gave him hunger pains, but he felt fine.

"My chalk escaped from the royal hand!" said Finn-Ice. He flew back out the window, and Gunter sighed.

"Simon," whispered Gunter, when Finn-Ice was gone. "Simon, how are you doing?"

Simon didn't respond. His chest rise and fell very slowly.

"Simon!" said Gunter, more loudly.

Simon wasn't waking up. He wasn't even mumbling anymore. Gunter didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Jake barked at them.

"I told you, mate, we can't move," said Gunter. "Er... listen. Do you think you can get the bottles for me?"

Jake walked over to the fridge and pawed at it.

"The... the bottles on the shelf," said Gunter. "To the right."

Jake looked left.

"My right," Gunter corrected himself. He was lucky Jake could understand English. A lot of non-talking dogs couldn't.

Jake looked straight at the bottles, as near as Gunter could tell.

"Yeah!" said Gunter. "Go, get those bottles!"

Jake walked over to Gunter, sniffed him, and slumped onto his side.

"What do you want?" said Gunter. "A tummy rub?"

Jake wuffed, and looked at Gunter expectantly.

"Listen, if you get the bottle, I'll give you a tummy rub," said Gunter.

Jake narrowed his eyes and wagged his tail slowly, still lying on his back.

"I genuinely cannot pat you unless you get those bottles," said Gunter, who was beginning to lose patience. Getting angry just made things worse when dealing with the Jakes.

He really missed being able to move.

Jake stared at him for a second, then stood back up and looked up at the shelf the bottles were on.

"Yes, go get them!" said Gunter, beginning to hope.

Jake ran towards the wall below the shelf at full speed.

"No, wait!" Gunter began.

There was a thunk, and Jake yelped. Gunter could hear the bottles falling, and he wished he could turn his head to look at what was going on. And preferably slide over and cushion the bottles before they smashed on the ground.

He didn't hear a smash. Jake walked into his vision, wagging his tail with both bottles jammed into his mouth.

Gunter let out a sigh of relief. "Good boy, Jake! Now put them--"

"Jake! Gunter! What are you two doing? Bonding Like Best Buds practice isn't until tomorrow!" Finn-Ice had returned. He floated into Gunter's field of vision, reached out a hand to pat Jake, then saw the bottles and jerked his hand back. "Jake, no! We don't help our minions escape from their mandatory behaviour seminars!" He chuckled and patted Jake on the head anyway. "You used your throwing disc skills, didn't you, boy? You're getting good at it. Anyway, you gots to go outside. Heel."

Jake followed Finn-Ice outside, pausing to give Gunter a disgusted, hurt look. Gunter felt vaguely ashamed.

 

At the end of the day, Gunter still didn't feel a pressing need to eat, but he was feeling sleepy. Meanwhile, Finn-Ice had degenerated to the point of just repeating the word "friendship" over and over now, and kept interrupting himself to yawn.

Finally, Finn-Ice gave up and said "Time for bed, guys! You got--" He yawned. "You got a big day ahead of you."

He grabbed Gunter, flew back up to the bedroom, and put him to bed, while Gunter comforted himself with the thought of getting some alone time. Maybe Simon would be back during the night, with the key to getting them out of this fever dream.

Finn-Ice came back with Simon, who was still unresponsive, picked Simon's silly leopard print blanket up off the floor, and tucked him under it. Gunter closed his eyes, waiting for Finn-Ice to leave the room.

Finn-Ice was taking his time. It sounded like he was dragging something.

Gunter opened his eyes to see Finn-Ice setting up a portable bed in the middle of the floor. "Please don't tell me you're sleeping up here." Gunter was less talking to Finn-Ice and more to Glob.

"Of course!" said Finn-Ice. "This isn't part of the lesson -- I just want to hang out with you guys." He leaped onto the bed stomach first and propped himself up with his ice hand. "And you know, set you a good example."

"Well..." said Gunter. "I don't think that will be necessary. We've have a long day. Look at Simon, he's exhausted!" Simon genuinely did look exhausted from where Gunter was lying. He hoped he was okay.

"Dude, what are you talking about?" said Finn-Ice. "His eyes are open. He's raring to go."

Simon's eyes were open at the moment, but that was why he looked so tied. Gunter had forgotten that most people didn't do that. "Yes, but he only does that when he's really tired." Humans were a weird species sometimes.

Finn-Ice got out of his bed, flew over across the room, and yelled "Simon! Are you tired?"

Simon moved his eyes a bit, but didn't otherwise react.

"Guess you're right," said Finn-Ice. "I'll leave you guys alone."

Gunter closed his eyes in relief.

"But dude, has it been hot lately, or is it just my imagination?" said Finn-Ice. "All my bod statues keep melting! You're a creature of ice, don't you think it's been hot, Gunter?"

Gunter opened his eyes again and glared.

 

Simon was getting very, very close. His astral beast was pleased with his impassioned song and dance routine, he knew it. He'd finally made a connection, and if he kept this up, the beast would be here by morning.

He hoped it was already night. It was hard to tell on the astral plane.

 

Gunter had hoped for a respite when Finn-Ice fell asleep, but he didn't get it. It turned out Finn-Ice talked in his sleep. Sometimes he scolded Jake, sometimes he just whimpered, and at least once, he held a completely lucid sounding conversation about learning to read.

At some point, Gunter fell asleep. He only knew he'd done it because he woke up to Finn-Ice making loud, annoying grunting and thumping noises. Gunter opened his eyes and strained his peripheral vision to see Finn-Ice doing jumping jacks next to the window. It seemed to still be dark outside, so Gunter hadn't been asleep for long.

He didn't say anything. He didn't want Finn-Ice to try to talk to him again. Simon still seemed to be asleep, but he'd closed his eyes again. It was encouraging to see things changing with him, as baffling as it was.

Finn-Ice did exercises until the sun rose, and for a while longer. At least he was dedicated. Gunter knew he couldn't get up so early just to work out, even if he had got a proper night's sleep. Finally, as the buzz of insects filled the air outside the window, Finn-Ice imitated an egg timer, then went downstairs.

"Gunter!" Simon hissed.

Gunter focused on him to see that his eyes were open and alert. "Simon! You're awake!"

"And my astral beast is coming!" said Simon. He looked around as well as he could.

Gunter couldn't see an astral beast anywhere either. "You saw it? What does it look like?"

"I don't know," said Simon. "It was kinda hard to see-- everything was all swirly. Maybe it's a dragon -- Not a real dragon, a mythological dragon."

Mythological dragons were sturdy animals with large wings and no neck pustles. Simon thought they looked a lot cooler than real dragons. "I'd like to see that," said Gunter.

A bee buzzed by his face, but thankfully, it didn't land on him.

"Uh... or maybe it's a giant salamander," said Simon. He tried to blow a bee away from his nose, and failed. "Man, a salamander would be so ferocious."

There were a lot of bees in here, Gunter realised. Bugs flew in here all the time in summer, but never this many. They were all the same kind too, fat bumblebees.

Simon followed the bees with his eyes. His face was beginning to fall. "I summoned bees, didn't I?"

"I think you did," said Gunter. The bees were flying around without any apparent aim, but they seemed thicker around Simon. "Congratulations!"

"Ugh, no," said Simon. He was definitely upset, despite what he'd accomplished. "They're harmless!"

"Couldn't they sting?" said Gunter. "No, that would kill them..."

"It doesn't kill them," said Simon, who had a bumblebee beard that didn't seem to be bothering him very much. "They just never do it unless you really bug them."

They were silent for a few seconds, as the buzzing filled the room.

"Maybe we could scare him," said Simon. "If we convince him they're gonna... No, then he won't wanna come near us." He sighed. "I can't believe I summoned a useless astral beast."

"No you didn't!" Gunter protested. "We'll find some use for them. It's not easy to do what you did, you know."

Simon blew out his cheeks. "We're gonna be trapped until Football gets home."

Gunter didn't think he could take another day of this, and that was just a best case scenario. Football wasn't good at keeping to a schedule. She could be under the ground for another week for all they knew.

And Simon was angry at himself again. Gunter never really knew what to do when he got like that. Slapping him definitely didn't work. He'd learned that when they were young. Hugging helped a little, but either way, he couldn't move. Out of desperation, he concentrated on Simon's astral beast and told them to comfort him instead.

"I'm sorry, Gunter," said Simon. "I really thought I could do this."

"You did!" said Gunter. He concentrated harder.

To his surprise, the bees split into two swarms and gently squeezed Simon between them.

Gunter stared at them. So did Simon.

 

Controlling the bees was surprisingly simple, now that they knew it was possible. Simon just had to think about what he wanted them to do, and they'd do it. The bees had got him and Gunter some trail mix from the emergency snack panel, and now they were carrying the two of them downstairs. Their tiny legs were pinching Simon's exposed skin a little, but it was still refreshing to be able to move at all.

They could hear Finn-Ice shuffling in the kitchen. Simon assumed he was feeding Jake, until they got close enough to see him holding onto the base of one of the priceless princess statues from the treasure room, with Jake trying to pull it away from him and slobbering all over the statue in the process.

"Hey!" said Simon. "That's ours!"

Finn-Ice dropped the statue and jerked around. "Simon! Gunter! Scary bees! What are you doing out of bed?"

"Would you just unfreeze us?" Gunter demanded.

"No!" said Finn-Ice. "You have another week of classes before I'm even gonna consider letting you take the final exam! Now go back to bed! I'm making us a royal sundae breakfast shake surprise!"

Simon thought about knocking off Finn-Ice's crown, and some bees immediately formed a whip and snapped the crown off his head.

"Your lessons are terrible!" Gunter burst out. "Why do you think you don't have any friends? You've got not idea what you're talking about!"

Finn-Ice almost tackled them, but the bees managed to dodge just in time.

"Gunter means that your lessons are real informative," Simon said quickly. He wondered exactly what Gunter had been through, and felt bad about leaving him to suffer on his own. "We just don't need 'em. Our way works fine."

Finn-Ice sat on the floor, looking confused. Then he jumped up and said "I'll unfreeze you on one condition: tell me how you're doing that!"

"Sure thing," said Simon. "After you unfreeze us." If they were lucky, Finn-Ice would forget to even ask afterwards.

Simon had the bees take them one of the bottles. He inspected the label to make sure it was the right one, then gave it to Finn-Ice. The bees weren't good at opening bottles, despite their other talents.

Finn-Ice opened the bottle, shrugged, and sprayed it on them.

Abruptly, Simon and Gunter crashed to the floor, still unable to move. The bees fell around them. Simon still felt a connection to them on the astral plane, but they didn't seem to be able to move at all. Just like them.

Confused, Finn-Ice pointed the bottle at himself.

"Don't!" said Simon.

Finn-Ice sprayed it on himself, and fell down. "What the... Oh yeah!"

"Oh yeah?" Simon snapped. Now they were even more trapped than before, because this idiot didn't label his bottles properly.

"They both had freezing potion in them," said Finn-Ice. "You know, to confuse thieves."

"Then where's the unfreezing potion?" Gunter demanded.

Finn-Ice screwed up his face in thought. Then he brightened. "Oh yeah. I never bought any."

Jake came over to sniff them.

"Jake?" said Finn-Ice. "Sweetie? Can you go to wizard city and buy us some unfreezing potion, uh... C?"

"A," said Simon. "Unfreezing potion A."

Jake bared his teeth, growled, and lay down and closed his eyes.

After a second, Finn-Ice said "Uh... Take your time, buddy."

Chapter Text

The Year of the Sky Witch
June

Simon didn't think he'd ever get used to people touching his heart. Doctor Princess pressed a little harder with her stethoscope, and he tried not to lean back in his chair. The stronger the pressure, the harder it was to breathe.

Simon didn't know a lot about himself, but he did remember that he'd been having heart problems since he was twelve. It seemed like he couldn't hold onto the same heart for more than a year at a time anymore, though this was the first time his old heart had taken his memories, too. He didn't know why that was, but these days it was hard to care.

Doctor Princess pulled the stethoscope out of him and wiped it with a cloth. "Well, Simon, the good news is that your heart is working fine."

Simon looked down at the hole in his chest. He could see his blue, slim heart beating steadily. There wasn't anything outwardly wrong with it, as far as he could see, but its appearance was never going to stop frightening him. Humans weren't supposed to be able to see their hearts, and if they ever did, the hearts were supposed to be red and vaguely rotund. This one was shaped more like a lizard's. "Oh."

"But..." Doctor Princess continued, a little reluctantly. She pushed her glasses up her nose. "Your blood work came back, and there's still a lot of excess goo in there. You should be passing it out -- There's nothing wrong with your kidneys -- but you're not."

"Are you sure?" said Simon. The healing goo from the Citadel had grown his heart back for him, and over the next few days, it had dissipated. He knew because he couldn't see it anymore when he looked down at his chest hole.

"Well... no," said Doctor Princess. "This stuff is medically unprecedented. All I know is, foreign objects in a human's bloodstream are always bad news."

Simon had been asking whether she was sure the goo was still in his bloodstream, but it didn't matter that much.

"So, how are you feeling?" said Doctor Princess.

"Uh... okay, I guess," said Simon, as he pressed his chest back together. He wasn't tired or sick or in pain or anything, unless there was something else he'd forgotten. Having a cursed dragon heart ripped out of his chest and something else regrown in its place didn't seem to be causing any symptoms at all, other than the memory problems.

Doctor Princess pushed her glasses up again. "No, not physically. I mean emotionally. How are you feeling?"

"Oh," said Simon. That was different. "Nothing." He'd meant to mention his lack of emotion earlier, but he'd never got around to it.

Doctor Princess frowned, like that was the wrong answer. "You're feeling totally okay? Really?"

"No," said Simon. "Nothing. I used to feel mad, but now I..." He trailed off and shrugged.

"That's very bad, Simon," said Doctor Princess, although she didn't look surprised at all. "You can't go around not feeling anything. You know the heart is the seat of a person's essence. You gotta do something to get it pumping. It does more than just pump blood through the blood vessels of the circulatory system and provide the body with oxygen and nutrients."

Simon shrugged again. He'd tried the standard happiness induction procedures, but nothing was interesting to have an impact, even things he was supposed to enjoy.

Doctor Princess hesitated. "Simon... I don't want to pry, but I heard you were gonna meet up with your GF today. Is it true you haven't seen her since you got back?"

"I saw her once." It was right after he'd returned to Uuu, but she hadn't been able to stay long. Not long enough for him to know how he was supposed to feel about her. Betty was his girlfriend, right? Shouldn't he have missed her up until now? Shouldn't he be looking forward to seeing her again?

Doctor Princess smiled in relief. "That's great! Romance-- intimacy, it's great at stimulating your heart juices. You guys need to make the most of your time together." She winked. "Doctor's orders."

"Okay," said Simon, trying to figure out how he was supposed to do that. Unless Betty conveniently had the same problem as him now, kissing was too exciting for her. She always lost control of her powers. He was willing to do whatever he needed to get better, but he wasn't sure this was possible.

 

Simon walked down a narrow path through the forest. It smelled of pine needles and salt, and every twist in the path was familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. It happened so often that it wasn't strange anymore, but it would always be dreamlike.

Nothing was strange, but nothing was normal. It just existed, like him, and sometimes he felt like he'd rather not exist. There wasn't a lot of point to it. There wasn't a lot of point to anything.

A few days ago, Simon had got a letter from his pen pal, Finn the Human. The letter had referenced some "biz" that Finn had been writing to get his mind off of, but mostly, it had been about trivial things. Simon still couldn't remember Finn, but the letter had jogged his memory about something else: Simon had started writing his own letter to Finn the day before he'd left for the Citadel.

He'd fished it out and read it, and soon wished he hadn't. The whole thing was about people and places that Simon couldn't remember and didn't care about. It wasn't about Finn the Human's reality either. He was talking about Monster Kingdom law enforcement issues and robot dogs and weddings, and he had very complex opinions about all of them.

It was like someone else had written it. Probably because someone else had. It was another reminder that there was a real Simon, and he wasn't it. It almost made him want to cry, but that wasn't what Simon would have done.

If it was possible to fade out of existence and be replaced with the teenager hero everyone kept expecting him to be, Simon would have done it, but for now, all he could do was keep pretending.

Simon squeezed past a bush that had nearly grown across the path, and cut open his palm on a thorn, jarring him back to reality. Whatever his feelings were about existing, he existed, and he had to act like it.

To distract himself from the pain, he started singing, and immediately stopped. Judging by his voice, singing was one of the things Simon wouldn't do. This forest was inhabited. He didn't to punish everybody who lived here because he was a little clumsy and melancholy.

He turned off the path, towards a cliff overlooking a bay. Betty had lived here before she'd returned to the Ocean Kingdom, and she was the one who'd decided to meet here. She knew the ocean better than he did. Also, she still had her memory.

There was a rope hanging down the side of the cliff. Simon climbed down it, which was difficult with his injured hand, and hummed tentatively. His humming voice wasn't much better than his singing voice. He dropped into the water, and Betty popped out in front of him, with an inch or two of water clinging to her skin like a bodysuit. "Simon! Great to see you again!"

Simon smiled, because she might think something was wrong if he didn't. "Betty!" He'd felt something when she'd visited him in the hospital earlier, but now, as usual, he felt nothing.

Betty immediately started swimming east. "Quick, Simon, this way! How are you holding up? It must be real weird without your memory."

Simon couldn't shrug while swimming. "I'm okay. Some things are familiar. How's it been with you?" He didn't really want to talk about himself. If he did, she might worry about him. She might suspect that he wasn't Simon anymore, and hadn't been for weeks.

"Oh, fine," said Betty, less enthusiastically than before. "I've been busy all day with this new community centre for the trench farmers-- I delegated it down to Curly."

Simon didn't ask who Curly was. She seemed to expect him to know.

"I mean, it's not boring," Betty continued. "They want a thulu to open it. I've never even seen a thulu! But I miss the good old days. Ya know, having time?"

Simon nodded. He could do that while swimming. He didn't remember the good old days, but he trusted Betty's assessment of them.

Betty shook her head. "I'm the one who usurped my dad, and I got a responsibility to my subjects. I got a job to do."

Simon noticed he hadn't said anything for a while, so he said "Yeah."

Betty laughed and said "I'm being dumb, I didn't mean to talk about myself so much. What about you? My spies-- I mean, I haven't heard any news. A-about you."

Simon tried to think of something interesting. Then he tried to think of something that might be interesting to someone who could feel things. "I went into space a couple weeks ago. Gunter got sick, but he's okay now."

Simon's feet touched sand, and he looked ahead to see that they were nearing a beach. As usual, it was vaguely familiar, but not familiar enough. Simon made a mental note of how to get home from here, then looked back at Betty

"I'm not spying on you," said Betty. She rose out of the water as the ground sloped up. Her water covering stayed completely smooth, and Simon felt that she'd come a long way with her powers, though he couldn't remember why. "I-- I am spying on you, but I spy on everyone. The Ocean Kingdom spies on everyone. It's the only way to survive!"

"Okay," said Simon. That made sense. Most spying was just basic information gathering. It was good to know what was going on outside your borders. His waistcoat was waterlogged, and the more he left the water, the more it sagged.

Betty suddenly looked at him. "Simon, you went into space? That's totally squoogy!"

"I didn't get very far," said Simon. Anybody could throw a rocket into the air and have it come back down, but he'd never got a chance to get into orbit. "Gunter got sick," he repeated.

Betty chuckled and said "You mean he got space sick? Like getting seasick?" They were completely out of the water now, and she was propelling herself completely with her magic. She didn't even seem to be out of breath.

"Penguins don't get seasick," said Simon. Neither did mermaids, so he didn't know Betty had brought it up. "It was a brain problem. I guess penguins can't be too far from the Earth."

Betty frowned. "That doesn't make sense, Simon. I know penguin anatomy. If you were okay, Gunter should have been too."

"Maybe it's his powers," said Simon, who was already bored of discussing it. Gunter was okay now, and that was what mattered. "Marceline said his clones exploded first."

There was a yellow butterfly fluttering around his hand. He tried to wave it away, but it kept coming back.

"I'm gonna ask him if--" said Betty. She stopped abruptly. "It's one of those things he doesn't wanna talk about, right?"

"Yeah," said Simon, still waving his arm around. Gunter hadn't even wanted to get a checkup after he'd woken up, but Simon had insisted. He was terrified that there was something still wrong with Gunter and his swollen brain, as much as he could be terrified anymore.

Betty laughed and said "Whoever said queens had to know tact never met me."

Simon didn't agree, but he felt he was expected to laugh as well, so he did.

The butterfly nearly landed on his hand. "Stop that," said Simon, because waving didn't seem to be working.

"Oh!" said the butterfly. It seemed it was a talking butterfly. She was a talking butterfly. It seemed to be a she. "I'm sorry! It's just... th-that cut on your hand?" She had a necklace of spiky gems that hung down further than her legs. Maybe that was why her flying seemed so erratic.

"This one?" He held his hand out palm up.

"What happened to the blood?" said the butterfly. She tried to land on the cut, but Simon pulled his hand away reflexively.

"Do you think I sound like that to Gunter?" said Betty. She seemed weirded out. People with feelings had a low tolerance for strange questions.

Simon inspected his hand. The cut still hurt, but there was no blood anymore. That happened when you went swimming. "I guess the ocean washed it away. Why?"

"It's just--" said the butterfly. "I didn't know what I tasted on that thorn but I think it was your blood and it's the tastiest thing I've ever had in my life. Um... c-can I have some more?"

"No," said Simon, who was beginning to intellectually understand Betty's reaction. You didn't go up to strangers and ask to drink their blood. Even if you were a vampire or something. Not that there were any blood drinking vampires anymore.

The butterfly laughed nervously. "Oh, yeah, g-- right, I guess you're using it. Sorry. Uh... it's Zephyr, by the way."

"Simon," said Simon.

"I'm Betty," said Betty. "You know, I have something way better for butterflies than human blood. Wait here!"

She sped back to the beach before Simon could say anything.

Zephyr hovered nearby awkwardly. "Is she your girlfriend?"

"Yeah," said Simon.

Zephyr seemed to brighten up. "That's so cute! How long have you been dating?"

Simon had memorised some important facts about his relationship before he'd come out today. "Two years." Closer to two and a half, but whatever.

"You must love each other a lot," said Zephyr. She turned to face the ocean. There was no sign of Betty yet.

"Actually..." said Simon, then thought better of continuing.

"Actually what?" said Zephyr. She flew around quickly, looking distressed. "What's wrong? Are you fighting? Please tell me you're not fighting. She looked so happ-- reliev-- Happy and relieved!"

"We're not fighting," said Simon. "I lost my memory. I can't feel nothing, and I... I don't think I love her anymore." He regretted saying it as soon as it was out of his mouth, but there wasn't anything he could do about it now. Now a stranger knew something that he should probably have kept to himself. That was just how it went. "Don't tell her."

"That's horrible!" said Zephyr. "You're not-- not thinking of breaking up with her, right? Right?"

"Uh..." said Simon. He hadn't thought of that, but it was a good idea. Betty needed someone who actually felt something for her. It was selfish of him to keep pretending he was the person she'd got together with.

Zephyr darted in front of his face. "You can't break up with her. I-- I forbid it! You just need to start f-feeling things again."

"By kissing her?" said Simon, remembering what Doctor Princess had said.

"Yeah!" said Zephyr. "L-- kissing! You just need some time with a lady to make you feel better!"

"A lady?" Simon murmured. He couldn't remember anything about himself, but Gunter didn't seem to discriminate based on gender. "I'd love to kiss her," he lied, "but her powers will go nuts." Them kissing was dangerous to anyone nearby, and possibly the world, he didn't remember exactly. They couldn't just do it spontaneously. He thought they might have nearly died the first time they'd kissed, or something like that.

There was more splashing than usual from the ocean. Betty had returned, with a bottle of something pale yellow. "Try this! It's jellyfish syrup!"

She opened the bottle, but Zephyr hesitated. "Jellyfish? I had jellyfish once, and it-- I-- It was gross."

Betty laughed. "It's not made from real jellyfish! That's just what it's called."

Zephyr landed on the bottle cautiously, and took a sip with her proboscis. "This is... really good! It's so sweet!" She hesitated, then took another sip. "Simon's blood has more body."

"That's because it's gotta stay in his body," said Betty, as she offered the bottle to Simon.

Simon winced, for some inexplicable reason, then took the bottle. He took a sip. Zephyr was right. It was very sweet. "What is it made of, Bets?" He didn't care, but it seemed to be the appropriate place to show an interest.

He realised that he'd shortened her name, and hoped that it was something Simon would have done.

Betty didn't seem to react to the name he'd called her. She shrugged. "Sweetsting and rubbermeal, I think. Uh, that's a kind of coral and algae."

Zephyr suddenly fluttered between them and said "Simon was just telling me that you two can't even kiss. That's terrible!"

Betty scowled. "I guess so."

"Yeah," said Simon, so she wouldn't think he didn't care. "The doctor told me being... intimate would make me feel better." He didn't really want to be intimate with anyone, but he didn't really want anything.

"You know what you have to do, don't you?" said Zephyr.

"No," said Simon.

"No," said Betty.

Zephyr landed on Simon's nose. "If you ever want to get well, you gotta make out with a whole bunch of ladies! High class ladies if you can! P-princesses! You can do it! Just pretend they're her!" She indicated Betty.

"What if they don't wanna kiss me?" said Simon. Kissing was a two way street. And there was something wrong with the idea of Simon getting with lots of princesses. Something existentially unnerving.

Betty laughed. "Simon, all the princesses wanna kiss you. Remember when you made the cover of BoysenBerry?"

BoysenBerry was a magazine aimed at teenage girls. It was based in the Wildberry Kingdom, and it had subscribers all over Uuu. Simon knew all that, but he couldn't remember ever appearing in it. "No." He was also completely certain that at least Breakfast Princess and Laurel Princess did not want to kiss him at all. He hadn't kept a tally, but he doubted they were the only ones. And what about all the ones who were too old for him? Uuu was lousy with princesses.

Betty blushed. "Oh, yeah."

If it was really was possible. It was more or less what Doctor Princess had suggested. "Can I kiss princes as well? Do they gotta be ladies?"

Zephyr stopped flying for a second. "Sure! If you know the-- if you can find any."

Simon could only think of a couple of princes, and at least one of them was too old. Betty hadn't mentioned him being on the cover of any teen boy magazines, but if there were any princes who wanted to kiss him, he didn't see any reason why it wouldn't work just as well as kissing a princess.

 

Simon had no idea where to get started with meeting ladies. You couldn't just go up to someone and ask to kiss them. That much he understood. He believed Betty when she said that a lot of princesses wanted to kiss Simon, but that didn't mean they wanted to kiss the person he was now.

That was why Zephyr was helping him. He was very grateful to her, or he felt like he should be. He hoped drinking his blood hadn't bound her to him in some way. He should probably look into at that some point.

Zephyr had got both of them an invitation to Helix Princess's cave party. Helix Princess had a very clean, presentable cave with plaster white walls. It would have almost looked like the inside of a house if it hadn't been for the boulders piled everywhere. The boulders were also plaster white.

The party was packed with guests in a bizarre variety of primordial shapes. At the back of the cave, a boom box was playing some modern spins on ancient classics, and there was a table covered with snacks near the entrance.

Simon found Helix Princess chatting with some friends. "Um... hi." He was no good at this flirting thing.

"Oh, hi, Simon," said Helix Princess. She sounded like they'd met before. Maybe he'd saved her from something. Princessing got really dangerous, didn't it? "Glad you could make it." She poured the last of her drink down her spiral, where it bubbled into nothingness.

Zephyr flew up to Simon's ear and whispered. "Helix flirts with pointless trivia."

Whoever Simon was, he knew a lot of that. "Hey, Helix Princess, did you know that mud scamps can live for over two hundred years?"

Helix Princess turned to face him properly, her front spiral lighting up. "Yeah, but did you know that oak trees are more closely related to roses than pine trees?"

Simon wasn't sure that was strictly true for some of the more magical hybrids. "Eight hundred years ago, there were more humans in Uuu than wizards." It was strange to think about that now.

"In Lumpy Space, a surgeon is legally required to be present at every divorce," said Helix Princess.

They were facing each other directly now. Simon didn't really know how trivia could be flirtatious, but Helix Princess seemed into it.

"Wait," said Helix Princess, and turned away.

"What is it?" said Simon. Maybe Betty's list of princesses that wanted to kiss Simon was wrong or out of date somewhere.

"What about your girlfriend?" said Helix Princess. Her spirals span around urgently. "Did you know that the gnome people die from an aneurysm if they find out their partner is cheating on them?"

"I'm not cheating on her!" said Simon, almost raising his voice. "Uh, listen, she gave me permission to kiss lots of princesses to help me with my--" He gave up trying to explain and just indicated himself.

Helix Princess narrowed the top of her spiral. "Oh, like your brother? Then it's okay..."

It seemed like he'd assuaged her worries. "Thanks."

They went back to exchanging trivia, until it was just the two of them outside the cave, watching the sun set green over the badlands.

"Deer are the only ungulates capable of shaping their--" Simon began.

Helix Princess cut him off with a quick kiss on the mouth.

Simon still didn't feel anything, but he copied her flustered reaction to pretend he did. "Th-thanks," he said again.

 

Over the next few days, Simon kissed Space Angel Princess, Lizard Princess, and Tall Princess. Nothing seemed to have changed yet, although he'd told Betty he was feeling a bit better. Queens had more important things to worry about than their drama queen boyfriends.

Now he was heading home with Swamp Princess, the leader of a race of shy, muddy moss people. Swamp Princess seemed like a nice guy, if a little quiet.

Swamp Princess put his wet, slimy arm around Simon's shoulder. "Simon, you're a great listener. I can't believe I never spoke to you before!"

Simon shrugged. "Everybody needs someone to talk to." Swamp Princess was bottling up a lot of family issues, and Simon was considering keep in touch after they kissed.

Gunter greeted them at the door. "Good to see you, er...?"

"Gunter, this is Swamp Princess," said Simon. "Swamp Princess, this is my brother, Gunter." Simon could occupy himself for hours figuring out the best ways to respond to Swamp Princess's many problems, but he couldn't keep himself from losing interest in introductions halfway through a sentence.

"Hello," said Gunter to Swamp Princess. To Simon, he said "Simon, can I speak with you for a second?"

"Sure," said Simon, following him into the kitchen. Was there something else wrong with Gunter's brain? Lately Simon had been getting worried every time Gunter went up a hill.

Gunter lowered his voice. "Simon, are you absolutely, completely certain that this is helping?"

"That what's helping?" said Simon, although he knew what Gunter meant. But maybe if he didn't talk about it, Gunter would stop being so observant and give up.

Gunter gestured at Simon's face frantically.

"What?" said Simon, remembering at the last moment to add an annoyed inflection to his voice.

"You know what I'm talking about!" said Gunter quietly.

Simon didn't know how to respond, so he remained silent.

"You don't seem any better than before," said Gunter. "If you want my opinion, I don't think all this kissing is helping at all."

Simon shrugged. "Gotta give it time." If kissing didn't help, what would? This was what his doctor had suggested, and it was what he was going to do. "Gotta wait for the kissing juice to kick in."

"I think the, er, kissing juice is supposed to work right away," said Gunter. "Th-that's always been my experience."

Gunter being so uncertain made Simon uncertain. Gunter was the expert on romance. But he'd never been an expert on what to do when you didn't feel things. "It'll be fine. I got a weird heart, remember? I just gotta kiss more royalty. I'll be better soon."

He climbed back down the ladder to the front room and Swamp Princess.

 

Crab Princess was holding a party at the beach, and as usual, Simon had heard about it from Zephyr. Zephyr had been doing so much reconnaissance for Simon's sake.

Unless she was just using him to get into all these exclusive parties. Well, that couldn't last forever. Once people figured out that he wasn't Simon, she'd longer have any reason to stick around.

As they walked to the beach, Zephyr said "Uh... Are you sure I can't ha-have any blood?"

"No," said Simon. "Zephyr, are you just hanging around me because you want my blood?" He hadn't though of that one

"No!" said Zephyr. "I mean,y- yeah, your blood is amazing, and I'd do anything to get another taste, but no, I just want you and Betty and-- to stay together!"

Simon accepted that, and kept walking.

"Yeah, it's weird," continued Zephyr, like Simon had spoken, "but... I had a break-- a bad breakup once, and you're so happy together, and I don't want it to happen to you."

"Oh," said Simon. "Thanks. I'm sorry to hear that."

Zephyr tapped her necklace with one of her front legs. "They gave me this necklace."

Simon had never seen her without it. "I'll bet it was hard on you." He sounded insincere even to himself, but over the past few days, he'd found that just showing interest worked more often than not, even if the interest wasn't up to his standards. Swamp Princess had claimed he was feeling a lot better since they'd spoken about his problems, though maybe that was just kissing juice.

They emerged onto the beach, where the party had already started. Crab Princess was dancing with a few other princesses near the water, but she stopped when she saw Simon.

"Hi, Simon!" she said, as she sidled up to him. "Are you still broken up with your girlfriend?"

"We never broke up," said Simon. People kept making that assumption. He didn't really care, but he thought Betty might. "She gave me permission to kiss all these people."

"Oh, yeah," said Crab Princess. "Whatever you say." She winked one of her stalk eyes.

The sky was beginning to cloud over. Simon hoped it wouldn't rain. That would spoil the whole party.

Simon was getting good at conversationalism. Using the poor weather as a springboard, he managed to keep a discussion about Crab Princess's interests going for half an hour, and when that petered out, he showed her a few magic tricks he'd been working on.

His phone beeped as he was shuffling a deck of cards. "Hang on a second." It'd be easier to hide what he was really doing if it looked like his attention was on his phone.

The text was from Lumpy Space Princess, inviting him to her place in the woods after he was done with Crab Princess. That was weird. He thought he'd just seen her here a minute ago. He looked around and spotted her by the snack table. She noticed him looking and blew him a kiss.

"Uh, anyway..." said Simon. He reached down and pulled a the ten of clubs out of the sand. "Was this your card?"

"No, I--" began Crab Princess.

Simon held up a hand, and pulled the three of hearts out of the sand. "How about now?" Before Crab Princess could answer, he pulled the card she really had picked, the three of clubs, out of his hair.

"Oh, I get it!" said Crab Princess. "I get it! Are you sure you're not a wizard?"

"It's a trick," said Simon. "I can't tell you how it works. It would ruin the illusion." Magic tricks were almost cheating, but he didn't think they'd work on people who weren't on Betty's list of people who already wanted to kiss him.

Zephyr put on some romantic music. That was Simon's cue. He held out out his arm, and Crab Princess took it. She put her claw on his shoulder, and he put his hand at the bottom of her thorax. The slow dance should finish what the magic tricks had started, if he understood romance correctly.

 

After the party, Simon walked Crab Princess down the beach. Her home was just past the intertidal zone, close to shore.

"Thanks for tonight," said Crab Princess. "I'd invite you in, but..."

"I'm out of water breathing potion," said Simon, who didn't really want to go inside Crab Princess's house. It felt like crossing a line.

They kissed. Thunder rolled.

Crab Princess went home, and her house sunk under the water. Simon walked along the beach and stared out to sea. Maybe he should have been more honest with Gunter. But he'd sunk so much time into princess kissing. He couldn't give up on it now.

"Hey."

Simon jumped, and looked around to see Betty, with her head poking out of the water. "Hi, Betty."

"I was kinda... watching the party," Betty admitted. "I didn't wanna make things awkward, but..." She shrugged. "You and Crab Princess looked pretty happy, huh?"

Simon shrugged as well. He could tell that she was jealous, but he felt the same indifference towards everyone he'd kissed, Betty included. "Not really. Do you want me to keep doing this?" He was trying to save her some upset, not create more.

Betty blushed. "Huh? Yeah! Yeah, of course! How are you feeling?"

"Okay, I guess," said Simon, only remembering that he was lying when the sentence was over. Lying was easier than telling the truth. "I'm gonna meet LSP in the woods later."

Betty gave a forced laugh and said "She's been crushing on you since forever, dude. Listen, I want you to get better, so go kiss her."

"Okay," said Simon. If Betty could pretend she was okay with him kissing Lumpy Space Princess, maybe it was time for him to start pretending as well.

 

Zephyr accompanied Simon back through the woods. As soon as they entered the trees, the wind died down, and the sky cleared.

The weather was almost definitely Betty's doing. Simon couldn't keep doing this, no matter how much she said she was fine. Not everyone was okay with their partners having other partners. Gunter was, but he always said that the other way was just as normal and healthy. After tonight, Simon had to either pretend he was better, or just break up with her.

He opened his mouth to ask Zephyr what she thought, and closed his mouth when he realised he already knew her answer. Stay together at all costs. Maybe she was right about that.

Simon began to hear some strange footsteps. He'd been hearing footsteps the whole time, of course. A lot of people lived in forests, and that wasn't even counting the animals who didn't talk. Forests were like cities for some kinds of talking animal, and this forest probably had a higher sapient population than even the Monster Kingdom.

These footsteps were heavier than most, and there was a slight clanking feel to them. He stopped, and put a hand on his nunchucks.

Zephyr landed on his shoulder. "What's wrong?"

Simon indicated the direction he'd heard the footsteps.

"That's just an accident golem," said Zephyr, sounding confused. "You can just-- you can fly out-- Oh!"

Simon tried to motion for her to lower her voice, but it was too late. The golem came crashing through the trees.

Accident golems were walking masses of crushing cogs and sharp debris that personified industrial accidents. In that sense, they were more manifestations than golems, but the name had stuck. They usually appeared around the sites of old factories, looking for more people to draw into their cores. Once you were caught by one, it was very difficult to get loose without losing at least one limb.

This golem was fairly small, only a bit taller than Simon, but a lot more muscular. Seeing them, it grinned and revved up its core.

Simon backed away. "Hey... why don't you go woodchip some boulders?" Once accident golems crushed anything in their cores, living or not, they broke down and dissipated. They were easy to deal with from a distance, but deadly up close.

Zephyr didn't seem to realise how deadly they could be, because she was fluttering directly in front of it. "I've never seen one up close la-- before."

"Zephyr," said Simon. He remembered to raise his voice. "I mean, Zephyr! Get out of there!" Without taking his eyes off it, he reached down and picked a long stick up off the ground. it felt sturdy enough to do the trick.

Zephyr weaved in front of the golem, which was trying to swat her. "Simon, calm down. I can--" The golem managed a lucky hit and she went flying.

"Zephyr!" said Simon. He dropped the stick and ran to her. The golem lurched after him.

He found Zephyr fluttering weakly on a leaf. He picked her up and put her on his shoulder. "Can you hold on?"

"Yeah," said Zephyr. "Sorry."

The golem was getting a bit too close. Simon tried to turn around and jump backwards at the same time, and got his sleeve caught on its skin. "Uh-oh." He tried to yank his arm away, but it was stuck, and getting drawn in deeper.

This was fine, his other arm was still free. Simon reached around to his nunchucks, but the golem seemed to see what he was doing and grabbed at his hand.

Simon jerked his hand out of the way just in time, but his other sleeve caught on the golem's hand, trapping both his arms. His legs were still free, but there was nothing he could do that wouldn't get them stuck as well. The ability of an accident golem to trap anything that touched it was thought by some scholars to be magic, but it had never been proven. Mostly because nobody was volunteering to touch them.

"Simon!" said Zephyr. He could just about see her clinging to his shoulder, waving her antennae around. "What's wrong?"

"I can't move my arms," said Simon. He tried kicking some dirt into the golem, but it didn't seem to affect it much. Dirt was too soft to do much damage. "It's okay."

"It is?" said Zephyr.

"Yeah," said Simon. "Just gotta wait for the core to pull my arm in. It'll break when it hits bone." Maybe if he lost his arm, people would stop expecting him to be an adventurer, and it'd be easier to break up with Betty. There were upsides to this situation. He was pretty sure his penpal only had one arm now, and he seemed to be doing all right.

"That's not okay!" said Zephyr. She flew up to Simon's arm and tried to pull his sleeve out of the golem, but she couldn't do anything more to get it out than Simon had. "Isn't there anything else you can do?"

Simon felt around his shirt for anything he could use to jam the core. He was resigned to this, but he'd prefer it not to happen. Losing a limb to an accident golem could be very painful.

He still had his nunchucks, but he couldn't reach them from this angle. His bag was an option, but the side he wore it on was twisted away from the golem. There was nothing useful in reach. "Nope. Gotta use my bones. You might wanna get back, if you can fly."

"Where you always th-this... morbid?" Zephyr demanded.

Simon tried one more time to pull his sleeve out of the golem, but it was hopeless. He could already feel the breeze from the outer layer of the golem against his skin. He wasn't going to have two arms for much longer.

Zephyr let out a grunt of effort. Her necklace arced in front of her, straight into the core.

The golem shuddered. It kept on churning for a second, then all its moving parts caught at once, and it collapsed into bits.

Simon stumbled backwards as his arms were freed. He rubbed them. "Zephyr..."

Zephyr flew back and forth over the ground where the golem had been, but there wasn't anything to find. Anything that entered the core was always completely destroyed

"Zephyr, you didn't have to do that," said Simon. "It was okay. I didn't mind."

Zephyr flew away.

Simon kept walking. Lumpy Space Princess was expecting him.

LSP moved around a lot, but Simon knew where her current camp was. She sent out a lot of mass texts, and for some reason, he was in her contacts, or address book, or whatever phones had.

Lumpy Space Princess was pacing outside her tent when he found her campsite. "Simon!" she said. "I was beginning you think you weren't coming." For some reason, she was wearing a paper bag as a dress.

"Hi," said Simon. He wasn't sure what to do now. He didn't remember her, but he knew her, and she seemed mainly interested in boys and kissing. Not whatever you were supposed to do before kissing. "Uh..." He put on something close to a charming smirk. "Hey, what do you get when you cross a wrestling match with a summer camp?"

"Ugh, I don't care, let's just get to the point," said Lumpy Space Princess. She grabbed him by the collar.

He wrapped his arms around her. They pecked each other on the lips.

That wasn't as time-consuming as Simon had thought. Basically like kissing any of the other princesses, but without having to do anything romantic beforehand.

He turned to go.

"What?" said Lumpy Space Princess. "Where are you going, Simon?"

Simon looked back. "We kissed." Did she want him to do the romantic stuff after kissing? He was okay to do things backwards if that was what she wanted.

"Oh no," said Lumpy Space Princess. "I didn't wait this long for some spring flurry."

"What do you mean?" said Simon. Was she saying his kissing was too cold? Too light? "All the other princesses were--"

"Forget about them, Simon," said Lumpy Space Princess. She beckoned him back. He put his arms around her again. "It's time for the Lumpy blizzard."

It began to rain.

 

Later, Simon lay on LSP's spare mattress. What had happened wasn't completely unfamiliar to him, but he thought he'd probably felt something last time. He didn't know why anyone would keep doing this if it didn't feel like anything. It had gone on forever. The underside of his tongue hurt, and he could still taste her spit.

It had stopped raining a while ago, and he was beginning to dry out. It was a humid night, but it was warm as well.

Lumpy Space Princess was obviously experienced at kissing. And touching. There'd been some of that as well. But even she hadn't been able to bring his emotions back.

Simon sat up, then stood. This wasn't working. He was getting all these princess's hopes up, and Betty's hopes up, for nothing. And Zephyr had lost that necklace she'd loved, all for nothing.

He wanted to cry. He'd been wanting to cry for a week. But he couldn't, because...

Because why?

Because that wasn't something Simon would do. He could hold in his tears, so he did.

Forget Simon. He'd forgotten Simon, and it was time for everyone else do it as well. If he wanted to cry, he could cry. He was done taking orders from a ghost.

He relaxed, and a tear began to crawl down his face.

Before it could reach his chin, something fluttered onto his face and sucked it up.

Was it Zephyr? Simon almost didn't want to ask, but the thought broke through the last of his self-control, and he cried harder.

Someone came up and hugged him. The someone was even wetter than he was. She was holding nunchucks in her free hand. They were dark grey and pale green.

Simon put his arms around her and cried. Crying was draining, but it was also making him feel better. Why had he waited so long to do it? He was never listening to Simon again.

"I'm sorry, Betty," he said.

"No, I'm sorry," said Betty, still holding him. "I came out to here to tell you the truth-- I don't want you to kiss other girls."

"I'm sorry," said Simon again. He'd seen that, and he'd continued to do it. He blinked the remaining tears out of his eyes and looked for the nunchucks, but they'd vanished.

Betty shook her head.

"I'm sorry for running off," said Zephyr suddenly. She'd landed on Simon's shoulder. He hadn't noticed. "And, uh... I'm sorry for drinking your tears. They were like your blood for a-- for a while."

"I'm sorry about your necklace," said Simon.

Zephyr fluttered her wings. "I'm sorry I got caught in up you-- in your relationship. I think... I did the right thing when we-- When I broke up with them."

"Well," said Lumpy Space Princess, who had woken up while Simon was distracted, "I'm sorry for being such an excellent kisser."

Simon chuckled slightly. "I'm sorry for..." He couldn't think of anything else to apologise for, although he was sure he'd done a lot of things wrong. "Guys, even if I never remember whatever happened at the Citadel..."

He trailed off as he realised he remembered exactly what had happened at the Citadel, very clearly. He remembered everything, from early childhood to last week. "My mom ditched me to hang out with O'Malley!" He'd come all that way, and she'd turned out to be a criminal who didn't care about or even remember him. At least he'd pacified the Lich again.

He wiped his face, which didn't do much. He really could remember everything, and he could feel everything, like his emotions had spent this whole time waiting for him to get his memory back, so they could hit him at once. He was happy, sad, angry, and scared, all at the same time.

"Simon," said Lumpy Space Princess, "did you get your memory back?"

Simon laughed. "Yeah!" For the first time in weeks, he couldn't feel the legacy of a stranger hovering over his shoulder.

Lumpy Space Princess pointed at her mouth. "All right! I knew these lips were magic!"

"Whatever," said Betty.

Simon realised he'd been Simon this whole time, and felt silly.

Chapter Text

The Year of the Flood
September

The treasure room needed rearranging, but Simon was having trouble with the scrolls. At first he'd thought he was alphabetising them, but then he'd put "pins" before "boots", so obviously he was organising them by rhyme. But what kind of order was flood-elephant-blood? And it was so dark. He could barely see what he was doing.

Simon picked up two scrolls about fire magic, trying to remember how to put one inside the other, but it was too late. The huge, ghostly snake woman grabbed him from behind.

Simon struggled. "Let go! Let me go!" He pulled at her tiny arms, but they were stronger than they looked. "Let me go!" he yelled. "Let me go!" He tried elbowing her, but it was like there was nothing even there. "P-please, just let me go!"

Something slapped Simon in the face, and he opened his eyes. He really was in the treasure room, but the scrolls had been strewn across the room. Gunter was standing in front of him at face-slapping height, and the ghost was nowhere to be seen. "Was...?" Simon began.

"Yes," said Gunter. He shrank down to his normal size. "Again."

"I'm sorry, Gunter," said Simon. He ran his hands over his face. He'd been having nightmares for as long as he could remember, but these particular ones were new. The sleepwalking, sleep destroying things, and sleep waking up his brother were also new. The dreams always ended with the ghost woman grabbing him until even Gunter couldn't sleep through his yelling.

"You kept saying "Let me go, let me go," said Gunter conversationally. "It's not a-- not a dream demon, is it?"

Simon shook his head. Gunter wouldn't have been able to wake him up so easily if it had been. He felt awful about not telling Gunter sooner and making him worry. It was just that thinking about the dreams made him dizzy. He'd been hoping they'd go away, but that was beginning to look unlikely. "It's the green ghost lady-- The one from the spooky house."

Simon had first seen the ghost lady during a complicated haunted house/murder mystery prank. He'd known that Gunter would know that he knew that Gunter knew that he knew that Gunter knew that the murders were staged, but somehow, Gunter had managed to figure out that Simon knew that as well.

Afterwards, Gunter had been happy to explain what he'd done in great detail, but didn't seem to know anything about the ghost lady. He'd thought that Simon was still trying to prank him, which Simon guessed he'd deserved.

"Hey, come on, Simon, that was a serious question," said Gunter, sounding hurt.

"I keep telling you, she's real!" said Simon, although he felt more like apologising for making Gunter think he'd joke about this. "And now she keeps showing up in my nightmares!"

Gunter looked at him carefully. "You really are serious, aren't you?"

"Yes!" said Simon. "I'm sorry, Gunter. I tried to tell you. I should have tried harder. Sorry."

"You know, you're doing that thing again," said Gunter. "You know, the-- apologising for things that aren't your fault."

Simon tried to focus. He was so tired, and he felt so bad. "Yeah, you're right..." He'd been trying to be better about that lately. And even at his worst, he didn't normally feel guilty every time anyone spoke to him. It was hard to be sensible when he was tired, and when he felt so bad about... something. How terrible he was? No, he wasn't terrible. He knew that now. "Maybe it's..."

He tried to think what he'd done wrong lately, but it just made him dizzier. He thought about his dream, and his vision began to blur. He pressed his hands to his temples, trying to keep himself focused. The guilt was the key. He'd had problems with guilt for a long time, but it was like someone had taken those problems and amplified them until they were his entire personality.

"It's what?" said Gunter after a while.

Simon shook his head. "Sorry. I mean, uh... I feel like I'm repressing something." And his mind was very invested in keeping it repressed. He wanted to bash his head against the wall, but he knew from experience that it didn't help much.

Gunter made a snapping movement with his flipper. He didn't have any fingers to snap, but he liked to make the motion. "You know what? I-I've got it! Wait here, I have just the thing."

He climbed up the ladder to the rest of the house.

"What is it?" Simon called after him. "Hey! At least leave a clone!"

It didn't look like Gunter was going to explain himself until he got back, so Simon passed the time tidying up the treasure room. It reminded him just enough of his dream to be unsettling, but organising was much easier awake than asleep. He'd just finished ordering the scrolls -- by rhyme, he always arranged them by rhyme -- when Gunter came back down with Football.

"Good morning!" said Football cheerfully. "Who's ready for a nightmare cure?"

"Hey, Football," said Simon. He glanced at Gunter. "I'm not really in the mood for Prob--"

"Oh, it's not a game," said Gunter. "It's a, it's a past life regression simulator. I think you've been afflicted with ghost guilt."

Simon sat down on his treasure counting chair. "For real? From a past life?" He'd heard about that happening, but it depended on some pretty specific circumstances. "You think my essence is trying to atone for something?"

"Can't hurt to try," said Gunter, as he climbed onto Simon's lap. "Lady Rainicorn swears by it. She says she used to be a mammoth on Earth, and the mammoth was really angry about one of Wildberry Princess's past-- Well, I can tell you about that later. Give it go."

Football opened the program, which looked a lot like a game to Simon. There was a series of concentric, shrinking hexagons, some with random white lines on them. He reached for the controls. "Do I dodge the lines?"

"Hm?" said Gunter, who had one flipper over his eyes. "No, just focus on it."

Simon focused on it, until he felt like he was going through a strangely coloured, hexagonal tunnel. There was something at the end, and it wasn't a light. "It's gotta be my past lives," he said aloud.

"You-- You can see them?" Gunter sounded excited, but also far away. Simon didn't want to look away from the screen to see if Gunter had uncovered his eyes.

"Yeah..." said Simon. They were all laid out in front of him, from beginning to end. "I was a comet." He'd seen references to sentient comets in some books, but he'd assumed they were metaphors. "And a bee. And... That's either irradiated stardust on ice or gum on crystals." It was something pink and gooey on something blue and crystalline. That was all he could figure out.

"Simon, the ghost lady," said Gunter.

"Oh, yeah," said Simon. It didn't seem as unsettling to think about her in this tunnel. "Uh... I see her. She's not green, or giant, or scary... but it's her, I swear." He'd look at the other past lives another day.

"You're sure?" said Gunter.

She looked nothing like the ghost Simon had seen, but there was no doubt about it. "Yeah, her name's Josefa." Simon normally had to stop and think about words with the breathy j, but this one came out as easily as his name. "She's riding some kinda giant blue bird."

Josefa was a humanoid with pale indigo skin, a patch over her left eye, and an empty bandoleer over her shoulder. Her clothes were all ripped, and Simon caught the memory that it made her look cool. He disagreed.

She was riding through somewhere that resembled western Uuu, but... rawer. There were more ruins and vehicles, they weren't sunk as deeply into the ground, and some of them were practically intact by modern standards.

Josefa didn't know how far in the past she was, of course. To her, it was still the present. But Simon estimated that nowhere in Uuu had looked like this for five hundred years. And with all the decay, it clearly wasn't less than a hundred years after the Great Mushroom War. So, this memory had happened somewhere between five hundred and nine hundred years ago. He'd be able to narrow it further when he got more data.

Josefa kept riding, oblivious to the archaeological playground she was missing out on. She did seem to understand the Mushroom War as more of a disastrous cataclysm than as the historical event that most people in the present saw it as, but that didn't mean she cared about it any more than they did. She was preoccupied by her next "job", which sounded worryingly illegal to Simon. But had law even been reinvented in this time period? He couldn't direct her thoughts, just see them, and she wasn't thinking about what her jobs actually entailed.

Simon was beginning to get the impression that her friend was some sort of non-avian dinosaur, although he couldn't figure out what a dinosaur would be doing in relatively modern times. He'd read books and seen plays that depicted ancient humans and dinosaurs living together, but that was because writers didn't know how time worked. Wasn't it?

The dinosaur reached a steep hill, topped by the house Simon had first seen the ghost lady. It looked almost new, and there was no sign of the other mountains, or the winding bridge path that Simon had had to take to get there. Uuu really had changed a lot over the centuries.

The dinosaur made a birdlike chirping noise as Josefa got off it. It sounded a bit like a question, although if it was, Josefa couldn't understand it. She did understand that it sounded concerned, though. "It's fine. I come here all the time. You know I'll be fine." She ruffled the feathers on the top of the dinosaur's head. The dinosaur licked her hand.

Josefa was more worried than she let on. This house was the headquarters of the Clematis Chappies, the most influential gang in this part of the world. Simon noticed that she didn't seem to know the name Uuu. There were some uses of that name in contemporary records, but maybe it wouldn't become widespread until later.

Simon had read about the Clematis Chappies. They'd been very powerful for a relatively brief period of history, then they'd fallen apart. The history books were divided on why. The accepted story was internal discord, but some historians claimed it was sabotage. Both theories fit the available evidence, and Simon was a little excited to get more eyewitness information on it.

The Clematis Chappies seemed to be doing well for the moment. The tweed suited doorman looked Josefa over for a second, then let her into a much less spooky version of the foyer than Simon remembered.

Josefa walked through the rooms, looking straight ahead. Chappies were standing everywhere, talking, holding glasses of grape juice, and playing ping pong. All of them watched her out of the corner of their eyes.

They'd got bigger since Josefa had been here last. She'd already had to give up working for some of their rivals, as going against Clematis interests got more and more dangerous. They didn't let women into their gang, but they were going to ask her for an exclusive contract sooner or later, and she didn't know if she could refuse.

It was weird to be in the mind of someone who felt threatened by a group like the Clematis Chappies. Simon had never felt anything more for them than mild interest in their aesthetic. They were criminals, but they were unusually stylish ones.

Josefa reached the dean's office without being challenged. She knocked on the door.

"Josefa?" said the dean, from the other side. "Come in."

Josefa entered the office, which was filled with haphazard piles of old furniture. It was a very disrespectful way to store antiques, Simon thought. The dean, an overweight green man, sat at a desk on top of another desk, scribbling nonsense with a feather pen. Simon did admire their style, but he felt that they could have done it with more historical accuracy. The feather pen was the least of their problems.

"You got a job for me?" said Josefa.

"That's right," said the dean. "I need you to obtain a small item."

Josefa shrugged. She'd expected that. "You name it, I can steal it."

Simon wanted to clench her fists, but he wasn't in control of the memory. She really was a thief by trade. Wonderful. Simon didn't really believe the superstition that your past lives dictated your destiny, but he'd never encountered much proof either way. Was it really too much to ask for one version of himself not to be embroiled in some kind of criminal underworld?

In some ways, he was glad he'd never have to fight her. Simon kept his stealth skills sharp, but he was getting the impression that Josefa didn't do much else.

The dean pretended to ignore her, and went back to scribbling. After a couple of minutes, he looked up. "Oh, yes, I didn't tell you your target."

Josefa waited.

"You know the new gang up the river?" said the dean. "They have a magical red ring. Bring it here."

Josefa nodded.

"And Josefa..." added the dean. "Don't you think it's time for a loyalty discount?"

"I get full rates or I don't work at all," said Josefa.

Maybe this was where she died. She wasn't sure if he'd accept her refusal, and she was deliberately looking straight ahead, so it was hard to tell if there was anything behind her.

"You'll get full rates," said the dean mildly. "But... don't donk this up." He touched her lightly on the chest with his feather pen and traced one of the rips in her shirt with the razor sharp nub.

Josefa knew a threat when she heard it. She wasn't worried, though. She never donked up her jobs.

 

There was only one gang up the river. They were a very new group, but apparently very confident. Most gangs used a shack or a ruin as their first headquarters, but these people had already begun construction on an walled city. Though most gangs weren't made up of vicious, terrible monsters. There were rumours that their leader was a demon, while other people claimed that it was a vampire. Josefa didn't believe that at all. Nobody had even seen a vampire for decades

Simon was pretty sure Josefa was talking about the Monster Kingdom. It was the right time period, but they'd never been a gang, unless there'd been a serious, Uuu-wide censorship campaign. And then another to cover up the first one. She was probably just misinformed.

It seemed like Josefa thought any organised group was a gang, which did make some sense for this point in history. Kingdoms wouldn't become widespread for a few more centuries, and society had to restart somewhere.

Josefa spent the ride upriver considering her plan of attack. The first thing she'd have to do would be to gain their trust. She had no idea what the city layout or gang politics were like, and the quickest way to find out was to see for herself.

She needed to look like a victim. Either they'd show compassion and underestimate her, or they'd sense weakness and underestimate her. Either way, she'd have the upper hand.

Simon kept seeing familiar features and landforms out of the corner of his-- of Josefa's eye, but not in any of the things she could see clearly. Not the trees, not the animals, not even the rocks or the buried cars. Past Uuu was really beginning to creep him out.

The city walls became visible through the trees, which were strangely green and leafy for being so close to the Monster Kingdom. Josefa bent over the river and splashed herself with mud. She did the same with the dinosaur, which squawked in protest.

"It's only for a little while," Josefa whispered, then let out a piercing scream and collapsed. She waited, with her head pressed into the scrubby grass that grew on the riverbank, and her neck twisted uncomfortably.

Someone very close by said "Oh man, another one?" Josefa stopped herself from jumping just in time. How had they got this close without her noticing?

Simon wanted to jump as well. That was Marceline's voice. It made sense for the creator of the Monster Kingdom to be around the newly created Monster Kingdom, but it wasn't helping his feelings of déjà vu.

Marceline lifted Josefa up, and the dinosaur began to grumble-growl.

"Hey, I'm not gonna hurt her," said Marceline softly. "I'm just taking her someplace safe. Come on, it's not far."

Marceline began to move. Josefa realised from her motion that she was floating, not walking. No wonder she hadn't heard her approach.

Eventually, Marceline put Josefa down on something soft. She pretended to be unconscious for a while longer, then opened her eyes groggily.

She was lying on a bed, facing the wall of a tent. She rolled over, and jerked in surprise. Marceline was sitting on the other side of the tent, staring straight at her. Josefa, who'd never seen her before, was surprised by how normal and non-monstrous she looked. She was probably low on the monster totem pole.

"Good, you're awake," said Marceline.

Josefa pretended to still be sleepy, hoping that this creature didn't mean she preferred her victims conscious. "What...?"

"I found you down by the river. What happened out there?" said Marceline. She was wearing something on her hand, but it was hard to see at this distance.

Josefa began to sit up, then fell back down as though the effort made her head hurt. "The Clematis Chappies. They took all my stuff!" She didn't actually have stuff. She didn't need stuff to do her job.

Marceline came closer. She was definitely wearing a ring on her hand, with obvious power stored in it. The ability to see stored power was a lost art, and Simon wished he could tell how Josefa was doing it. "Those guys again? Ugh, when are they gonna stop terrorising everyone?"

Josefa could take the ring off her hand right now, but if this person had it, Josefa had been completely wrong about the woman being low ranking. Maybe she was even the vampire or demon she'd heard about. It was better to wait. "But... aren't you doing the same thing? Aren't you with the monsters?"

Josefa didn't feel much guilt about the idea of taking what wasn't hers, which was fairly normal for thieves, but Simon couldn't figure out why she'd changed her mind so strongly in the present. Could his own guilt problems be exacerbating it? Nobody really understood the interactions between past self and present identity.

"What?" said Marceline. "No! I mean, yeah, I'm with the monsters, but..." She had a way of saying things like she was just about to laugh, even if what she said wasn't funny. Josefa kind of liked it.

Josefa sat up again, more slowly so not to aggravate her imaginary headache. "Aren't you a gang? You're all..." She didn't want say anything insulting. "Intimidating."

"Yeah, trust me, a lot of the people around here are more scared of you than you are of them," said Marceline, like she'd said it a lot before. "It's more of 'I watch your back, you watch mine' deal. We don't wanna hurt anyone or take things that don't belong to us. It's more like... a family. A kingdom," she corrected herself.

What was she doing, trying to revive the ancient nation states? People had tried. It hadn't worked.

Simon was a little startled to feel Josefa think of things that only happened a few centuries ago as ancient. They were ancient to him, so it felt like they should be recent for her.

The other thing Marceline had said began to sink in. "You think families are supposed to watch your back?" Josefa said, not having to feign her confusion for once. Just being related to someone didn't mean you had to be responsible for them.

Marceline made a face. "What? Yeah, of course."

If everyone here was as naive as this person, the job was going to be a piece of cake. "If my parents had wasted time trying to protect me, I'd never make it as an adventurer. They even erased my memories when they were done." Other than the part about being an adventurer, that was true. Josefa only lied when she had to. You never knew what random scrap of contradictory information your mark might know

"They did what?" said Marceline, who looked the way Simon felt. Josefa hadn't been thinking about her childhood, so what she'd said had come as much of a surprise to him as it had to Marceline. His own parents hadn't been a hundred percent perfect, but they'd managed to train him as an adventurer while still making him feel loved, even when he hadn't felt loveable. If he'd lost all that... what would be the point of helping people?

Of course Josefa didn't help people at all, but Simon was a hundred percent certain that you could be a successful thief and still remember your childhood.

Josefa shrugged. "You gotta have some kinda edge to survive these days. They just didn't wanna slow me down with attachments." She assumed. She couldn't actually remember.

"That's messed up," said Marceline. "No offence to your parents, but they're huge jerks."

Josefa shrugged again. Her parents had done the right thing, but she didn't care if people insulted them. That was the genius of the memory taking thing.

"Hey, can you walk?" said Marceline. "I'm gonna show you something."

Josefa pretended to test her legs. "I think so..."

The dinosaur was waiting outside the tent. When it saw Josefa, it squawked and headbutted her affectionately.

"I'm okay," she told it. "I think."

"That thing's really attached to you, huh?" said Marceline.

Josefa scritched it on the head. "We have more of a business relationship."

The dinosaur chirped. The chirp didn't mean anything.

Josefa looked around. There wasn't much to see. A lot of scaffolding and dirt piles, and not many buildings. They were near the centre of the area enclosed by the walls, on what was either the largest pile of dirt, or a small hill. The hill was ringed by a green river of toxic waste, which bothered Simon, but not Josefa. Below them, the headquarters seethed with activity. Maybe they were right to be so ambitious. Most gangs didn't reach these numbers even at their heights.

Marceline pointed down at a large, green-skinned person with bolts coming out of his neck. He was pushing a cart of rocks around. "That's Cayden. He'd be dead-- more dead if we'd waited another day to get him out of that village."

Josefa felt that if he'd nearly died, then he obviously wasn't skilled enough to keep on living, or unliving, or whatever. That was how life and unlife was.

Marceline pointed at a couple of completely bandaged humanoids, who were sitting together on a dirt pile, apparently taking a break. "And those two-- I could talk all day about those two. You have no idea how flammable those bandages are. I used to be like you; I thought feelings were dumb. These last few decades have been a wild ride."

Josefa had thought Marceline was younger than her, but apparently not. Undead were always hard to place. "Hm..." She didn't want to sound too sceptical, but she also didn't want to act too convinced of this fairy tale power of friendship story.

Simon agreed with what Marceline was saying, but he couldn't see the present Marceline actually saying it. He'd noticed she was more open and friendly in this memory, and he'd assumed it was because she was younger. But from what she was saying, she'd started off cynical, become more optimistic, then gone back to her present-day cynicism. He wondered what had happened, and hoped it wasn't something Josefa had done.

"Why don't you stick around a while and see?" said Marceline. "Come on, if I was gonna hurt you, I would have already done it."

That was probably true. Josefa nodded. "It's not like I have anywhere else to be."

 

Josefa spent a few nights helping cover over the toxic river. The monsters were surprisingly friendly, once Marceline told them that she was there to help. There was a sense of community that reminded Josefa of some of the more peaceful gangs she'd been around, except that they were willing to extend that community feeling to her. It was weird, but she wasn't complaining. Whatever got her closer to her target.

Simon experienced the passing days as a few minutes, although he didn't know why. Maybe this part wasn't important to the memory.

Josefa seemed deeply concerned by what Marceline had said about her parents. Parents pushed their children, they didn't help them, right? That was how her parents had raised her, and she'd turned out all right.

She'd asked Marceline about her own parents once. Marceline had just said her mother wasn't around. And something vague about how she wasn't going to ignore what her mom had taught her any more. She'd been completely quiet on her father, if she even had one.

Simon had met Marceline's dad, but he didn't know much about her mom. She'd been a human, and she was probably dead. That was all Simon knew.

As Josefa spent the nights building and the days sleeping, Simon wondered where all this was leading. There was a sense of impending doom pervading the memory, so it wasn't anywhere good. But he still hadn't figured out what exactly was going to happen. Maybe she was going to defect, and the Clematis Chappies would kill her for it? That was a depressing thought. She'd finally see the value of cooperation, but then she'd die anyway.

The memory slowed down as Marceline and Josefa walked across the kingdom walls, which were a lot higher than they'd been a few days ago. The monsters worked much harder than Josefa had thought.

There were seven mystical golden seals along the wall, pointing in the seven cardinal directions. Marceline stopped at the southern one and and pressed the ring into the circular depression at the centre. Red power flared out, covering the entire southern part of the kingdom.

"That's what that thing does?" said Josefa. No wonder the Clematis Chappies wanted it so much. With this, they could pick and choose who they let near the mansion. Base raids would be a thing of the past.

"Yeah, it was a birthday present," said Marceline. "Come on, let's do the rest."

They moved along the wall, protecting the western and nightwards parts of the kingdom in the same way as the south. When they came to the north seal, Marceline gave the ring to Josefa. "Here. You try."

On the outside, Josefa just looked taken by surprise, but on the inside, she'd frozen up completely. She had what she'd come for. She could just run off with it right now, the job would be done, and she wouldn't have to hear any more about Marceline's weird moral code. She'd probably even prove Marceline wrong.

But this wasn't how she operated. She didn't steal things where their owners could see her. Even if she could outrun an angry vampire, which she probably couldn't, anonymity was her biggest asset. Openly cheating such a big name in the monster community would definitely get her description publicised.

She couldn't debate with herself forever. A little hesitation was natural, but any longer would look suspicious. Josefa smiled gratefully at Marceline and pressed the ring into the western seal. Power flowed through her entire body, into the seal. For a second, she was the power, covering the entire north. Then she was herself again, with her heart beating like she'd just outrun the entire Equine Alliance.

By the time she was finished, she'd made up her mind. She'd steal the ring the next time Marceline went to sleep.

Simon mentally groaned. How could she still want to steal from Marceline? Josefa didn't seem like a particularly bad person, and she definitely wasn't nasty or mean spirited, but she still wanted to take things that didn't belong to her to benefit a group of horrible criminals. It was like she lived in some completely different version of reality where it really was every being for themselves.

Marceline also let Josefa active the antiheavenswise seal, which she did while surreptitiously checking the ring's weight and power. After the kingdom was secure, they went down to the fledgling castle town, and got some coffee from Lenny's stall. Lenny was a friendly group mind made up of three intertwined snakes. They'd always dreamed of being able to sell home-roasted Martian coffee, and Josefa was happy for them.

She sipped her coffee, trying not to look preoccupied. She'd need to be awake at noon, which she hadn't been for a few days. Marceline was semi-nocturnal, so Josefa had become semi-nocturnal as well. If the weather held, even if Marceline did wake up, she'd have to chase her through direct sunlight.

Josefa hoped Marceline wouldn't wake up. Apparently the sun was very painful for her.

"Thanks for helping with the protections, Josefa," said Marceline. "Listen. I've been thinking."

Josefa took another sip. "Yeah?" She'd been thinking that she shouldn't trust random strangers from outside the kingdom? She'd been thinking that attachments just got you hurt?

"How much do you like travelling all the time?" said Marceline. "Like, really like it?"

Josefa shrugged. "It's okay." She'd always been travelling, for as long as she could remember. It was safer than staying in one place.

"Why don't you stay here?" said Marceline. "I mean... At least as your home base."

"Here?" said Josefa. She didn't understand. "Why are you offering me this? I'm not even a monster."

She wasn't sure what she was, because of the amnesia, but she knew she wasn't a monster.

Marceline flushed. "Because you're my friend, you ding dong! You're not a monster, but you still got a raw deal."

Josefa's chest tightened. She downed the rest of her coffee, burning her throat a little, and said "I gotta go. I-- I left the oven on the gas heater."

She couldn't think of a plausible lie, and that was almost as scary as Marceline's offer.

Marceline had to be able to tell that Josefa was flustered, but she just said, "Uh, cool. Let me know, okay?"

 

Josefa raced back to her tent. There was no value in getting attached to people. She'd always known that. Otherwise removing her memories wouldn't have helped, and it had obviously helped. People couldn't really like other people enough to want to be around them. Josefa liked Marceline and wanted to be around her, but she'd never admit to it. She was so much weaker than she'd thought.

So why didn't she think of Marceline as weak? Marceline wasn't weak. You couldn't be hopelessly naive and still be able to organise so many people on such a large scale. You couldn't be naive and still so respected. There had to be something she was missing.

Josefa leaned back on her bedroll and took a few deep breaths. She had two choices. Either she could go against her code of honour and defect to the Monster Kingdom. Or she could go against her conscience and stick to the job.

If she defected, it would only be temporary. They'd find out sooner or later who she really was, and she'd be alone again. And there was the Clematis Chappies to deal with. She remembered that quill pen pressing against her chest, and swallowed.

And even in the best case scenario, if she managed to escape them and the Monster Kingdom, her reputation would be ruined. It would be nearly impossible to get jobs once word got around that she joined up with her targets. Her entire life would be for nothing. What did you even do when your life's work had been nullified?

"Talk to Marceline," Simon tried to say. All she had to do was talk it out. Marceline liked her enough to offer her a place to stay, so chances were good that she'd be willing to help, despite Josefa's betrayal. Simon thought as hard as he could at her, but she didn't hear. This was a memory, not time travel. This had all been decided centuries ago.

Josefa never once thought about talking to Marceline. She knew her only chance was to steal the ring now, before she got sucked so far in that she couldn't get out again. By afternoon, she'd be long gone.

 

The sun was high in the sky when Josefa made her move. To Simon, it seemed almost unnaturally high. The Earth's axis was somewhere between its present location and what it had been before the war, and he wondered if Josefa had noticed that it was shifting.

If she had, she wasn't thinking about it. She was thinking about how this was going to be tricky, with people around at all hours. There wasn't really a time when most people were asleep, like there was in other settlements. If she'd had a choice, Josefa would still have preferred to do this at night, but Marceline never slept at night, and she never took the ring off at all.

Josefa told the dinosaur to be ready for a quick getaway, then crept to a low wall near the palace. Marceline slept in the basement, out of the sun, though they were constructing an actual bedroom for her higher up. Josefa had never been to the basement before, and maybe she should have waited until the bedroom was available, but there was no time. She had to do this today.

The first thing she needed to do was get past the gargoyles guarding the entrance, but they wouldn't be a problem. This time last month they'd still been a dumb lump of haunted stone. Even Josefa had more memories than they did.

Josefa rose up from behind the wall. The gargoyle guards weren't yet great at their job, but they weren't completely stupid. They pointed their spears at her. "Who goes there?" said their leader.

Josefa held up her hands. "It's just me, guys. Josefa." If she was especially lucky, they'd never put together that her entering the basement was connected to the theft of the ring.

They lowered their spears. "You're up early," said one of the ones at the back.

Josefa shrugged. "I missed seeing the sun." She realised it was true as she said it. She needed to work more nights if she was even getting attached to the sun. "But I swear I saw the sky lights last night. They were really bright!"

She remembered the aurora as she spoke, and Simon was interested to see that it was just a faint green glow in the northern sky. He felt a bit sorry for the people in this time period. All this crime and anarchy, and they didn't even have pretty lights in the sky to take their minds off it. At least the winters weren't so cold.

"Oh, that's what it was?" said the leader gargoyle, as Josefa put her hand on the door they were guarding. "I thought it was a radiation storm."

Josefa opened the door. "Radiation storms are black." If he'd thought it was a storm, why hadn't he warned anyone? There were a lot of kinks to work out of this guard system.

All three gargoyles seemed relieved. "So I'm not growing an extra leg," said the one who hadn't spoken yet.

"Well, take care," said Josefa, entering the door to the basement. "See you guys later."

They waved as she closed the door behind her. She was never going to see them again, unless she donked this up. Which she wouldn't, although she half wanted to.

Inside, a tunnel sloped sharply downwards. The only light was from the cracks in the door, and a soft glow coming from further down.

The tunnel widened into a cave, which wasn't what Josefa had expected. It wasn't what Simon had expected, either. The modern Monster Kingdom basement was cave-like, but it was a normal room, with flat walls and a ceiling.

The light was coming from the toxic river, which flowed down from the ceiling on one side and disappeared into the ground on the other. Josefa hadn't realised it extended this far underground. There was tar dripping off the ceiling in some spots, which was the only sign Simon had seen so far of the Monster Kingdom's extensive tar lakes.

On one side of the room, far away from the river of toxic waste, was Marceline, in a tar-splattered bed. She was snoring and facing away from the entrance. Josefa could only just make out her shape against the dark wall.

Josefa crept towards the bed, making sure to avoid the tarry spots. She might have been nervous, but Simon couldn't tell over his own nervousness. He'd done this once, except not in a cave, and not knowingly. He felt like he was going to throw up.

He had to concentrate on the present, which was technically the distant past. There was no point having a flashback inside another flashback. Besides, Josefa knew exactly what she was doing. Nobody was manipulating her into this. It was her own choice.

Simon wondered if Josefa had ever made a choice in her life, or if she really understood what choice was.

Now Josefa was thinking about how unusually nervous she was, so it couldn't all be Simon. She put it out of her mind, and reached the bed. Marceline was definitely asleep, with both hands under the covers. Josefa carefully pulled the covers back to reveal the ring on her finger. So it was true. She even slept in it.

Very carefully, Josefa pulled the ring off Marceline's finger. She was ready to stop and dive under the bed if Marceline stirred, but she seemed to be sleeping heavily.

The ring came loose. Power exploded through Josefa's hand, and she jumped back, clutching the ring in her fist.

Marceline's eyes had snapped opened the second the ring had come off her finger. Josefa would never get away with jumping under the bed now.

Marceline hissed and lunged at Josefa, transforming into something with tentacles and teeth as she did it.

Josefa twisted her body out of the way and ran for the exit. Marceline was faster than her, and she could see in the dark. Josefa couldn't run, and she couldn't hide. She changed course for the toxic river. It was a long shot, but running towards toxic waste at full vampire speed was suicide. She'd have to slow down, maybe buying Josefa enough time to reach the outdoors.

Josefa jumped over the river as Marceline got back into lunging range, then ducked. Marceline sailed over her, but recovered quickly. She lifted her head, and for a second, they were face to face.

"Josefa?" said Marceline.

Josefa realised she was hesitating, and took a hasty step to the side. Her boot kicked some fleshy part of Marceline she hadn't noticed before, and before she could stop herself, she stumbled back into the river. Marceline grabbed for her, but Josefa instinctively twisted away, and was engulfed in burning green.

 

She knew she was dead. It was more disappointing than scary. Everything her parents had done for her had barely even begun to pay off. She'd completely wasted her excellent head start in this life. She wasn't going to get the same advantages in the next one.

Eventually, Josefa realised that she hadn't arrived in any of the Dead Worlds. It seemed that the river had mutated her into something with a brain, which was relatively rare. If she was really lucky, she still had all her other major organs as well, but she suspected she'd exhausted her luck for this life.

Still, there was no point staying in here. She swam up for a long time, then crawled out onto the surface, blinking in the fading sunlight. She seemed to have two eyes again. She'd nearly forgotten what depth perception was like.

She also noticed that her childhood memories were back, and that she knew the real reason her parents had taken them.

Oh well. It was too late to do anything about it now.

She crawled, not really knowing where she was going. She was long and green, like the river, and she was still holding the ring. Above her, the sky lights were also green.

She was on top of a hill now. There was a sapling. She leaned up against it and died.

 

Simon opened his eyes, suddenly stiff from sitting in the chair so long. Had he been asleep? He'd been so immersed in the memory that he hadn't noticed.

Gunter was asleep on his lap. Simon had intended to describe the entire memory to him as it happened, but it seemed past life regression didn't work that way

Simon shook him gently. "Hey, Gunter."

Gunter yawned, then opened his eyes. "Oh, Simon. You're awake. Did it work? Do-- Do you feel better?"

"Almost," said Simon. He knew exactly what he had to do. Or Josefa knew. He wasn't sure. "I gotta stand up."

Gunter climbed onto the armrest without argument, and Simon got up and dialled Marceline's number on the treasure room phone. He usually made sure she wasn't hiding in his house first, but for once, he didn't care if she made fun of him.

After a few rings, she picked up. "Simon?" Marceline sounded tired. "It's the middle of the day."

Simon glanced out the window. It was. He'd been asleep for longer than he'd thought. "Sorry, Marceline, but I had to call you right away. I gotta make it up to you."

"Make what up to me?" said Marceline. "What are you apologising for now, Simon?" She sounded half amused, half annoyed.

Simon didn't know how she'd react when he reminded her of Josefa, so he said "Come over. I'll show you."

Marceline was silent for a second, then said "This better be good. I'll be there in a second."

They said their goodbyes, and Simon waited.

"So it's something to do with Marceline," said Gunter.

"I took something of hers," said Simon. He wanted to go into detail, but the guilt was almost physically painful. "She needs it back."

"Well, you haven't found them yet," said Gunter, sounding confused. "By the way, did you tell her--"

"No, not that," said Simon, trying not to wonder if he was destined to steal from Marceline in every life he lived. "Way earlier."

A leech crawled under the door and reformed itself into Marceline. "Okay, Simon, what's this about?"

Simon walked over to where he kept the scrolls and tugged at the boards on the wall.

"Simon!" said Gunter. "Are-- Are you sure you're feeling better?"

Simon didn't stop pulling. "I'm feeling great!"

The board came away, and he widened the space until he could reach inside the wall.

The green ghost lady was in there, with the ring in her hand.

Simon took it from her. "Thanks," he said.

She smiled at him, and she wasn't huge and scary anymore. She looked exactly like she had before she'd fallen into the river.

"Who are you talking to?" said Marceline.

Simon gave her the ring. It was covered in dust now, but the red of the gem was still obvious.

Marceline blew on it. "Simon, this is..."

"It's yours," said Simon. "I stole it because I didn't know any better. I'm sorry." Josefa had stolen it, but she deserved to make a direct apology, even if it was through him.

Marceline studied the ring. "This ring was stolen way, way before you were born. I thought it was gone forever."

"I know," said Simon. "I brought it up here, and... then I died."

Marceline looked past him, into the wall. The only thing there now was a skeleton. "Josefa," she murmured. Louder, she said, "You're her reincarnation? Man, I shoulda known."

Her tone was light, but Simon could only think that they were both untrustworthy and fatally confused, and that Marceline had seen the real him at last.

"You're nearly as dorky as she was," Marceline continued.

She didn't seem as angry as Simon had thought she'd be. "B-- She betrayed you. She had so much time to change, and..."

"Simon," said Marceline. "She got three days. That's practically nothing. People don't change overnight. Trust me on this."

Simon hesitated. "You're not mad?"

"I was mad," said Marceline, as she put the ring back on her finger. "After you spend a couple hundred years wondering what was going through her head, you start to figure things out. I'm just glad you brought it back in the end."

Simon checked on his emotions, and realised that his guilt had gone. At least, his ghost guilt had gone, and that was all he could ask for.

"I wish I knew what you two were talking about," said Gunter, who hadn't moved from the armrest.

Chapter Text

The Year of the Sky Witch
July

Gunter slid up and down the Grasslands, flying over the tops of the hills as he crested them. Simon held onto his back as well as he could.

"What's the hurry?" said Simon again. Gunter had stopped in the middle of a dungeon crawl to say that they needed to go to Picnic Valley right away, but he hadn't explained why yet.

"I-- I forgot," said Gunter, between gasps for air. "It's their party today!"

"Whose?" said Simon. If it was some kind of romantic thing, that was one thing that they didn't usually do together. They'd tried a double date with Wildberry Princess and the Demon Cat once, but it had not worked out well. The Demon Cat was one of Gunter's closest partners, and the father of Gunter's children, but he still gave Simon the creeps.

"Them--" Gunter took a deep breath. "Karl, Andy, Gunter Jr, Pudding, and Morty! They're one year old today!"

Gunter's children. Simon's nieces and nephews. "Today?" said Simon. Gunter hadn't mentioned anything about a party. He rarely talked about his kids, now that Simon thought about it. Sometimes Simon almost forgot they existed. He wished he'd had time to get presents for them.

Gunter and the Demon Cat had five kids. Two of them, Karl and Pudding, took more after Gunter in looks, while Morty and Gunter Jr took more after the Demon Cat. Andy was a griffin-like combination of them both. They seemed nice, from what Simon had seen of them.

They got to Picnic Valley to find the Demon Cat napping, as usual. Gunter Jr was floating nearby, playing a recorder. She was pretty good at it, Simon thought. Better than he'd been when he'd tried it as a kid. Andy and Karl were casting divinatory knucklebones on a blanket, and Pudding was playing with his phone. Morty was sitting in a chair, expressionless.

Simon hopped off, and Gunter shrunk back down to normal size. "I..." said Gunter, as he caught his breath. "I... tried to call." He was looking at Pudding.

Pudding glanced at him, then at his phone. "Oh, this thing doesn't take calls."

The Demon Cat opened his eyes, and stretched leisurely. "Greetings, Gunther. Greetings, Samon. I foresaw that you would be late."

"Yeah, dad, but you said twenty minutes," Gunter Jr complained. "It's been like four hours!"

"Four hours?" Simon repeated. "Gunter..." How could he almost forget his own kids' birthday?

Andy put on a forced-looking smile. "So, mum, where's your famous cooking?"

Gunter laughed nervously. "I, er, I already ate it. And presents... Yeah. I forgot to get you any presents." He laughed again.

"Gunter!" said Simon. In his mind's eye he could see his mother swimming away from him. He knew this wasn't about him, but he couldn't help it.

None of the kids looked pleased, not even Andy. Morty used his tongue lure to eat himself and vanish.

Andy recovered, and said "Isn't it great that she showed up, guys? Yay mum!"

"Er... that's my girl." Gunter wasn't using his powers at the moment, but he still seemed smaller than usual.

Morty reappeared. "Ba," he said, addressing Gunter. "We have business to discuss."

"Y-yeah?" said Gunter.

Morty held up a piece of paper. "This is the deed to your treehouse."

Simon stepped forward to examine it. "There's a deed?" The deed consisted of a picture of the treehouse, and some cursive writing that he was pretty sure was the way Bonnibel wrote when she wanted to look like she had good handwriting.

"Naturally," said Morty. "I purchased it off of Bonnibel Bubblegum in exchange for a eukaryote-compatible 3D printer."

"Wow, Mort," said Pudding, who'd gone back to his phone. "You gotta steal pop's house too?"

Morty gave him an annoyed look, and grabbed Simon and Gunter with his tongue lure.

"Whoa!" said Simon, who was having trouble keeping up with what was going on. His nephew owned their house now, or something? Was he going to give it back? He had no idea. He barely knew his nephew.

They emerged back into reality next to the tree house. There was a sign on the door: "Suites available. Enquire outwardly."

Simon frowned at it, then at Morty. "Hey, you can't just rent out our house. We live here!"

"Correction, you lived here," said Morty impatiently. "The deed is mine now, but I'm willing to rent you a suite at a discounted rate."

Simon and Gunter looked at each other. Gunter's eyes were wide, and his feathers were fluffed. Simon wished he'd say something. Maybe lay down a fatherly ultimatum.

"Now," said Morty. "There's the matter of your finances."

Gunter finally spoke. "Aren't... We're rich, aren't we? Front room full of treasure?"

"Y... Oh, wait," said Simon "We spent it all, remember?" He'd been interested in economics lately, and he liked to frame what they'd done as a way to get the economy flowing rather than hoarding their wealth. But really they'd had more stuff than they could keep in the tree fort.

"You spent it," said Morty. He opened the door, and they entered the mostly empty treasure room. Even most of the artefacts were gone, either to museums or to more appropriate places in the tree fort. Simon had always been a pack rat, but lately he'd been trying to keep less of his stuff in a giant pile.

Gunter looked under a pile of priceless, unsellable novelty mugs. "Aha!" He held out some bent nails. "Here! Solid iron... nails. I think you'll find them to be adequate compensation."

Morty took the nails, inspected them, and put them in his suit . "Just as I thought." He pointed at the ladder up to the living room. "I'll accept these... objects as a deposit for that apartment."

"The living room?" said Simon. All his stuff was in his bedroom. He didn't blame Morty for being upset about the birthday party, but... Simon knew Gunter. Gunter wasn't a bad person, like his mom was. There was a reasonable explanation. Maybe Simon's amnesia was contagious.

"The ladder," said Morty. "Your new apartment is this ladder."

"Okay," said Simon. If Gunter wasn't going to say anything, Simon was going to have to speak for him, before things got out of hand. "Morty. Gunter's really sorry he forgot your birthday, and he's gonna make it up to you. You don't need to take our house."

"Birthday?" said Morty. "Oh, yes. They did force me to take hours out of my busy day for no benefit. That's not what this is about. This is just business."

"B--" Simon began.

There was a knock on the door.

"Ah," said Morty. "That must be the prospective buyers. Please, make yourselves comfortable in your new apartment while I show the buyers around."

Simon had expected a couple of people, but there was a flood, from forest creatures and mudscamps to princesses. "Man... I didn't know housing was this bad."

 

Simon had a lot of experience with getting comfortable on ladders, but he'd never tried to sleep on one. Normally it would have been good that one rung dug into the back of his neck, another dug into the small of his back, and that his legs dangled free. It was the kind of thing that kept him alert on stakeouts. But he had enough trouble sleeping in his own bed, with all his own blankets. He'd been lying on this ladder for hours, and he still wasn't even slightly sleepy.

Gunter had shrunk himself down small enough to lie on a single rung, although he didn't seem comfortable either. "You all right, Simon? I-I'm seriously sorry about all this."

"It's okay," said Simon. He was getting better at controlling his temper, he thought. "You just gotta get your biz with Morty worked out. I can deal with it."

He put his hand on his journal in his bag to reassure himself it was still there. Earlier, it had been sitting on top his bed, and therefore had technically belonged to the elk that had bought that part of Simon's room. Simon had found this out when the elk had told him that he was sure Simon's mom loved him deep down, and that they'd work it out eventually. It had taken a lot of self-control to just grab the journal back without doing anything else.

Then Morty had arrived and scolded Simon for trespassing in his own bedroom. But he'd got the journal back.

What was with Morty? He was being a real... He was being a jerk. Simon was pretty sure that what he was doing wasn't even legal, but Morty was only a year old. He probably didn't know any better. Simon didn't want to have to punch a one-year-old, so all they could do was ride this out.

Maybe his nephew needed money? But then how would he be able to afford the 3D printer he'd got Bonnibel? Those things weren't cheap. If it wasn't that, or spite about Gunter being late to his birthday, what could it be? Maybe he was some sort of housing bandit, who took houses from the rich and gave them to the poor? But he'd given everyone such tiny spaces to live in. A true housing bandit would at least let each tenant have their own bathroom.

It had been a while since Simon had slept down here. He was sure it was noisier than unusual, and not all of it was the snoring from the people below. There were the distinct sounds of clashing swords and screams from the nightly battle with the creatures that lived in the walls, which was always louder down here than up in the bedroom, but there was something else he couldn't identify.

There was some creaking, and... Was that normal? It was normal for trees to creak. The tree fort always creaked.

It wasn't normal for any of the treasure room windows to slowly slide open, like one of them was right now. Simon squinted, trying to will his eyes to adjust better. His night vision wasn't great, at least without potions. That and his lack of waterbreathing ability made it frustrating to be a human sometimes.

A shadow slipped through the window. It was humanoid, but Simon couldn't see anything more than that. "Gunter," he whispered.

Gunter climbed up to the rung behind Simon's neck. "What is it?"

Simon pointed at the shadow, which was climbing across the bumpy area where the wall joined the ceiling. He'd been hoping the intruder would try the ladder, but they seemed to know to avoid it. Maybe they did have good night vision.

The intruder disappeared into the upper room, and Simon and Gunter climbed up after them.

There were even more people squeezed into the kitchen and living room, and a couple still had lamps on. The intruder stuck to the shadows, but Simon could see that they were wearing a brown coat and hat, and it made his stomach drop. The intruder crept towards a corner, where a long shape was sleeping on the floor with a bag loosely tied to their wrist.

Suddenly unconcerned about potential mixups, Simon said "Hey!"

The intruder turned around. "You? What are you doing here?"

It was O'Malley, just as Simon had hoped it wasn't. He swallowed. How did this keep happening? "I live here."

O'Malley's target sat up and rummaged through their bag. They seemed mostly humanoid, with limbs so impossibly long that Simon felt a little nauseous.

"Hang on," said Gunter. "Weren't you in space?"

"I suppose it's too much to ask that you moved in to case the place--" said O'Malley.

Simon glanced at O'Malley's target, who was calling the police. Good. They just needed to stall for a little while. "This is our house, O'Malley. Gunter's son-- We've lived here forever!"

O'Malley glanced around. He obviously saw what the humanoid was doing, but didn't seem overly concerned. "Well, irregardless, new tenants are easy marks. They might not have all their valuables, but they don't have security, neither."

Why would they need to know something like that? "Gunter's right, you should be in space," said Simon. "When did--"

There were flashing red and blue lights outside, like the ones the Monster Kingdom gargoyles liked to spin around to pretend they were on a cop show. Simon relaxed. Maybe, this time, O'Malley wouldn't be able to escape.

 

Simon punched the wall of their cell. "This is balderdash!" He shook his hand out. "Ow."

"Yes, I know," said Gunter.

Simon had already said that a few times tongiht, mostly to the gargoyle guards as they'd taken him and Gunter away, but he was too angry to be creative. "And what are you smirking at?" he asked O'Malley, who'd been put in the same cell. "Did you plan on winding up here tonight?"

"You know, I almost ain't mad," said O'Malley. "The police are beginning to see through you, huh?"

"The police are--" Simon stopped himself before he could outright call the Monster Kingdom's law enforcement stupid. They got the job done. Sometimes. "Thorough. Look, it's just a misunderstanding. Queen Marceline is gonna sort it out when she gets back." He grinned as he remembered the last time O'Malley had met Marceline.

O'Malley smirked again. "Sure, son, whatever helps you sleep at night." If he was worried, he was hiding it well.

Simon leaned against the wall. He was beginning to feel a little better, despite the company. Surely Morty would have proved whatever point he was trying to prove by now. If not, Simon had a couple of backup plans.

"What I still don't understand is how you got back from space," Gunter said to O'Malley.

"You're still talking about that?" said O'Malley. "Space travel don't agree with me. So I came back." He shrugged.

Just... came back? How was that possible? The distances involved were enormous. "Were you really in low Earth orbit?" Simon didn't really want to talk to O'Malley, but he was very curious about space. And his mother, if she was back in Uuu as well. He wasn't sure he wanted her to be.

O'Malley shook his head. "I don't speak spaceman. All I know is, we were somewhere outside the universe. Your mom tried to explain it -- she's a lot like you, you know."

Simon found that he didn't want to talk about his mom, at least not with O'Malley. "You were in another universe?"

"What does it matter?" said O'Malley. "I'm back now, and it's a good thing. You haven't learned a thing, have you? You still don't get how people like us are supposed to live."

Simon took a deep breath. He didn't know how he was still letting O'Malley get under his skin. He was sixteen. He should be more grown up by now. "People can live however they want. Nobody should have to do crimes to live. The world doesn't work that way!"

"And yet your nephew stole your house," said O'Malley. "Completely legally and above board."

"What are you talking about?" said Simon. "That's not legal! It's..." He wasn't sure what it was, but it was wrong, so it obviously wasn't legal. Right wasn't always legal, but wrong was always illegal.

"Actually..." said Gunter reluctantly. "You know, I've been thinking."

Simon looked at him, relieved to have an excuse to stop talking to O'Malley. "Thinking what, Gunter?" he said, when Gunter didn't continue.

"Well, back at the beginning of time..." Gunter began. "Er, after the dinosaurs, you know, when people arrived, they didn't have the law yet. The strong ones took what they wanted, and they left all the worst things for everyone else. Then, once they had everything they wanted, then they invented the laws."

"So, what are you saying?" said Simon, who didn't like this theory. "Lawful is inherently unfair?"

Gunter looked around, apparently distracted. "Well, some people are born with less... stuff than others," he said slowly. "Er, money, I mean. And it's against to law to just have equal money. The law always favours the ones who've already got everything."

Simon frowned. "Sorry, Gunter, but that's dumb."

"Guess denial runs in the family, huh?" said O'Malley.

Simon ignored him. "I mean, yeah, I get where you're coming from. But come on. Not everyone is a selfish butt. As long as there's good people--"

O'Malley interrupted him by laughing loudly. "You still believe in good people? You really do got a lot to learn."

Simon nearly protested that he was a good person, but that would have sounded conceited. "What about Billy, or--"

"Billy never got nothing done when he retired," said O'Malley. "He didn't know how to make life fair, and neither do you. Unless you wanna prove me wrong right now?"

Simon opened his mouth, but he couldn't think of anything to say. "No, okay? I don't know how. But there's gotta be some kinda--"

A couple of gargoyle guards opened the the door. "You two, your bail's paid."

Simon jumped up in relief. Marceline must have returned early.

He and Gunter were leaving the police station when they ran into Morty, who gave them a piece of paper. For a split second, Simon thought it was the deed, but it was too white and rectangular, and it had too many numbers on it. "What's this?" he said. "A bill?"

"For your bail," said Morty. "You can pay it back when you have money."

Simon snatched it, and said "Okay! I can buy the fort back. You butt."

Gunter looked up at him. "Simon, you don't have to do that."

"It's okay, Gunter," said Simon. "Enough is enough. Morty, I can't get the money straight away, but gimme a few days."

"You?" said Morty. "Hm. That's sweet, but you don't know how much these things cost. You'd do better to spend your money on candy and video games."

"Don't treat me like a little kid!" Simon snapped. "I just gotta hit Autumn Leaf Pile Dungeon, Green Tea Dungeon, Solid Gold Dungeon... that should be enough. I sell artefacts to museums and libraries and junk." He usually prioritised more scientifically interesting artefacts over valuable ones, but the library would pay a lot for all the romance novels Solid Gold Dungeon was rumoured to hold. And there'd been a lot of demand for human bumper stickers in museums lately.

"You have a job?" said Morty. He looked at Gunter.

"Uh, I never thought of it like that," said Simon, a little nervously. His job was helping people. Helping people not be victimised by people who were stronger than them, which, if Gunter's theory was correct, he needed to step up on. "It's more like a hobby."

Morty rubbed a paw over the back of his head. "All right. If you can pay, I'll sell to you, and only you. If ba wants it back, they'll have to pay the same sum."

Before Simon could figure out how that would work, Gunter said "You know, I'll also be collecting the, er... things. I'm an adventurer too."

"Adventurer is not a profession," said Morty. "Ba, does Uncle Simon pay you a salary?"

"A salary?" said Gunter. "Of, of course not. What would he need to do that for?"

"You need a job, ba," said Morty. "There's no other way out of this. You can't mooch off your little brother for the rest of your life."

"He's not mooching off of me!" said Simon. He almost wanted Morty to go back to treating him like he was helpless.

"If Uncle Simon is the sole buyer, he'll have to be the sole occupant," said Morty. "I won't sell under any other circumstances."

Simon was pretty sure property law didn't work like that, but he'd never been an expert. He needed to do some study, soon.

 

Simon rubbed his face, trying one more time to force the sentence he was reading into his mind. He'd been so fired up last night that it would have been hard to sleep in his bed. He'd got almost no sleep on the ladder.

There were plenty of books on law here at the library, although none concerned the Grasslands. He'd assumed that Grasslands law was similar to kingdom law, but kingdom law didn't really seem to exist as a unified entity. For some reason, renting was only permitted in the Breakfast Kingdom if the tenant and landlord went together as a breakfast. Muesli and orange juice was fine, but muesli and bacon were completely wrong. And the Jungle Kingdom had an odd prohibition on letting adults live in a home owned by one of their relatives, unless both parties were rafflesia people. You couldn't really put any of it together into a general set of Uuu-wide property law.

Gunter had tried to help with the reading, but he was just as tired as Simon was, and he didn't enjoy studying as much. At the moment, he'd given up and made a flipbook of a giant squid monster, swimming across the page. "Simon, you really really don't have to use your own money for me," he said suddenly. "Here's an idea, why don't you you just buy it back for yourself? Don't worry about me, I can find somewhere else to live. Maybe Gerald needs some help keeping mum and dad's things safe, I don't know..."

Gunter had always been a little reserved about his problems, but he usually wasn't this self-sacrificing. "What's wrong, Gunter?" said Simon, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice. "Morty messed with both of us."

Gunter shrugged, which was his signal that he didn't want to answer any questions. "What I still don't understand is why he's doing this. Maybe... Do you think it could be a tax write-off?"

"Uh, doesn't he live in the forest?" said Simon, who sometimes looked in on what his nieces and nephews were doing. "You don't pay tax in the forest, it's like the Grasslands."

"We don't?" said Gunter. "Er, you know me, never been good with money..."

"You gotta live in a kingdom if--" began Simon. Something occurred to him. "Gunter! Can you get me a couple more books? Legal records from now to the Great Mushroom War. New laws, new rulers, that kinda biz."

Gunter nodded, split himself up, and ran at the shelves. A couple of his clones ran right into them, and stumbled backwards. He really was tired.

It wasn't Gunter's best day for fetching books, but there were a few useful tomes between the gangster era legal dramas and the fantasy genealogies. Simon pulled them open, faster and more harshly than he intended to. He had to be gentle to books. Where would he be now if his predecessors had been too rough with them? He read down the lines almost faster than he could comprehend them, but what he was looking for wasn't there, and it hadn't been there for a thousand years.

He closed the books carefully, took a deep, calming breath, and said "The Grasslands have no laws!"

He was speaking too loud, and he looked around for Turtle Princess, who never missed a chance to shush him. He wanted to keep his library card for more than a month for once.

There didn't seem to be anyone around, but Simon lowered his voice anyway. "Gunter, there's no property law in the Grasslands. There's no governing authority in the Grasslands. It's an anarchy."

Gunter frowned. "An anarchy? You mean people running around, setting fire to things?"

Simon shook his head. "It's kinda like... What you were talking about last night! Everyone pretends like there's laws, but there aren't any. There's no law enforcement... The gargoyle guards shouldn't even have authority in the Grasslands. We could make laws that really are fair for everyone!"

He'd raised his voice again, but Turtle Princess still wasn't there to shush him. He hoped she was all right.

"Simon, why don't we focus on getting our house back first?" said Gunter.

"Oh, yeah, right," said Simon. "Yeah, so, the deed doesn't mean anything. It's just a piece of paper. We gotta tell Morty."

 

Morty was on the boat balcony when they got home. Simon wasn't sure they could get up there without being arrested again, so he jumped on Gunter's back, and Gunter grew to the size of the tree fort.

"Morty, we--" began Simon, then noticed that there was someone with them. "Turtle Princess? This where you've been?"

"Oh, hi Simon," said Turtle Princess. "I always wanted my own apartment. Mr The Penguin-Demon says he has the perfect place."

"This guy might not be on the level," said Simon. How bad was housing around here? He'd never realised how lucky they were to have the tree fort, not even when Bonnibel had kicked them out.

"He's not!" said Gunter. "Morty, we, we know the truth now. That deed is worthless. You've got no right to sell our house to all these... squatters!"

Morty didn't look worried, although he did seem a little confused. "Shouldn't you looking for a job?"

"Your uncle figured it all out," said Gunter. "We don't have property law. You are pulling a con on us, mister."

Morty's tail swished. "Who do you take me for? Junior? Would you be willing to back that claim up in a court of law?"

"W-what law?" Simon yelled. "There is no law! That's the flipping point! Get outta our house!"

"I doubt you two could afford a lawyer with your current funds," said Morty. "I'm a trained lawyer myself, of course. You don't have much hope in that regard."

Simon spluttered as he tried to think of a response. It was like trying to argue with someone who insisted that the sky was green.

"You should probably be doing the job you claimed to have last night," said Morty. "And you, ba, should be looking for a job of your own. I'm busy with a client."

He indicated Turtle Princess, and Turtle Princess waved at him.

"You--" Simon began, when Gunter abruptly shrank down to normal size, and Simon had to jump back to avoid squishing him.

"It's no use, Simon," said Gunter. "He's, he's not going to listen to us."

Simon took a deep breath. "Yeah, you're right." He had another idea, but he didn't like it. Why couldn't Morty just act like a reasonable person? Or even an evil person. Simon knew how to fight evil people.

"Well, I didn't want to have to do this..." said Gunter, as though to himself.

"I hear that, it's kinda-- wait." Simon had realised that he and Gunter were probably not thinking the same thing. "What's your idea?"

"I don't suppose we could rob a bank..." said Gunter. "Er, that's not my idea, that's just me thinking."

"I don't think he wants money," said Simon. "Gunter, I think he wants you to get a job."

Gunter considered. "Well, I don't want to do that. Er... I suppose I have to... you know..."

Simon was losing patience again. "Gunter, I don't know. What are you talking about?"

"Just... Just something," said Gunter, looking at his flippers.

Simon didn't want to press him, because he didn't want Gunter to press him about what he was going to do.

 

Morty's house was situated in a beautiful, secluded clearing in the forest. It was two stories tall, and the inside smelled like lavender. He'd obviously been rich even before he'd taken their house.

Simon's bag felt unusually heavy on his shoulder. He really didn't want to ring the doorbell. Neither did Gunter, by the looks of things. He was standing even further away from the house than Simon was, holding a mysterious box to his chest. Morty was visible through a second storey window, reading, but it didn't seem like he was going to look up any time soon.

Eventually, Simon walked up to the front door and rang the doorbell. Morty glanced out the window, and teleported downstairs to greet them. "Oh, hello Uncle Simon." He looked past Simon at Gunter. "Ba." He looked back at Simon. "Do you have the money already?"

Simon shook his head, and reached into his bag. "This is what I have." He pulled out the deed to the tree fort, in a plastic sleeve. His bag ate loose pieces of paper for breakfast.

Morty inspected it. "A photocopy of the deed."

"It's the real deed, Morty," said Simon, who really did not want to be having this conversation.

Morty swished his tail. "Don't be ridiculous. I locked it in my wall safe as soon as a I got it."

Simon swallowed. He was glad that they weren't in public. "Yeah. I know. I... I stole it today." He continued before Morty could say anything. "It's not illegal, 'cause there are no laws! It's immoral, just like how you're being a butt about our house! Do you get it now?"

Morty teleported away, was gone for a few seconds, them came back, looking startled. "It is gone! What did you do?"

Simon looked at the ground. "I already told you what I did." If he'd been able to think of anything else that could convince him, he would have done it.

You broke into my house," said Morty, very calmly. "You invaded our-- my privacy, and you-- you think have the moral high ground."

Simon had seen pictures of Morty's wife and daughter on his living room mantelpiece, but if Morty wasn't ready to tell Gunter that he was already a grandparent, Simon wouldn't either. "Me? What about you? You let a herd of total strangers live in our house and use our stuff! That's mad immoral. Even if we did have laws, you gotta think about ethics. Lawful isn't the same as good!"

Morty arched his back in irritation. "You don't get it. Do you know what it's like to have a parent who lives in a tree and spends their days living like a child?"

Simon turned around to look at Gunter. He was sure Gunter would have something to say to that, but just looked away, with his flippers around the box.

"What's wrong with living in a tree?" said Simon, when Gunter didn't say anything.

Morty ignored the question. "I thought if I could just encourage them to get a job, everything--"

"That's what this is all about?" said an incredulous voice from above them.

That couldn't be O'Malley again. Simon refused to believe it. He didn't know if he was worried about what O'Malley might have overheard, or just annoyed that he kept popping up everywhere.

O'Malley poked his head out of an upper window, then jumped to the ground. "How is he supposed to know what you want out of him when you don't tell him? You gotta communicate!"

Now Simon refused to believe that he was actually agreeing with O'Malley on something. They could have avoided all of this if Morty had just explained that he wanted Gunter to have a job for some reason. Then they could have explained that Morty had a very restrictive view of what adulthood was, and everything would have been fine.

Morty was looking at O'Malley in puzzlement. He looked up at the window O'Malley had jumped out at. "The burglar...?"

"Never mind about that," said O'Malley, like he hadn't just being trying to rob him. "Now, for example, when I tell Simon here what he should be doing, I always make sure to be clear: He's a natural crook."

"Hey, wait a second," said Simon. That was more like it. He guessed he should arrest O'Malley, or beat him up, or something, but he also really wanted Morty to admit that he was doing the wrong thing. At this point, getting O'Malley to admit that he was doing the wrong thing seemed unlikely.

O'Malley turned his gaze on Simon, and Simon wished he hadn't said anything. "You know, I think it's starting to sink in. Robbing your own nephew to prove some asinine point-- didn't your parents raise you better than that?"

Simon looked away. He hated it when O'Malley acted like he was proud of him. No matter how much he reminded himself that O'Malley was just playing mind games, it still worked.

Gunter said "Er..."

Simon had almost forgotten that Gunter was there.

"Er, Morty," said Gunter. "I, I know you don't need me around, and you're better off when I'm not here, and I might as well just bury myself in desert, but, I, er, here. I made you something."

He gave Morty the box.

"Ba..." said Morty. He opened it, revealing a piece of wood with a sharp point.

"It's a calligraphy pen," Gunter explained. "You, you can use it for your, you know, legal stuff."

O'Malley was trying to slip away, so Simon grabbed him by the arm. Not this time.

Morty took the pen from the box, and tried to use it on a notepad near the door, but it didn't seem to work.

"Oh, you might need some ink," said Gunter. "All I did was paint a piece of wood."

Morty sighed. "Maybe the burglar is right." He looked at Simon. "You can keep the deed. I won't press charges."

Simon started to say that pressing charges wouldn't make sense, and O'Malley stepped on his foot and broke out of his grip. Simon grabbed for him again, and O'Malley attacked him with a chop, barely missing Simon's wrist.

Morty took a step towards Gunter. "Ba... I'm better off when you are here." He closed the door.

O'Malley dodged out of Simon's reach and headed for the trees. Simon started after him, then glanced at Gunter, who was looking very forlorn and confused.

Gunter was more important than chasing someone who kept sabotaging his own robberies to lecture people. There'd be other opportunities to stop O'Malley.

Simon touched Gunter on the shoulder.

"He was just being polite, you know," said Gunter.

His voice was flat. Simon had always suspected that Gunter missed his kids, but he hadn't realised that Gunter thought they didn't even want him. Simon had to figure out a way to convince him that wasn't true. He couldn't stand to see his brother unhappy.

"Come on," said Simon. "Let's go kick everyone out of our house and into someplace nicer."

Chapter Text

The Year of Lost Souls
August

Simon grit his teeth and pulled himself another inch up the sheer cliff. He paused and glanced upwards, trying to figure out where his next handhold would have to be.

Gunter leaned over from his perch on Simon's head and rapped his brother's temples with his flippers. "Come on, come on, what's the hold up?"

"If you wanna climb this cliff, Gunter, go ahead," said Simon in a strained voice, as he dug his foot into another small depression. Gunter had claimed he was too tired to shrink himself down, and Simon's neck was getting really sore.

"Hm..." said Gunter. "No, no, I don't think so. I carried you up the last cliff, isn't that enough for you?"

"You used your powers," said Simon, as though Gunter couldn't remember something he'd done ten minutes ago.

"Yes I did," said Gunter, sounding satisfied.

Despite his complaints, Simon was enjoying the challenge. They needed to do this more often. There was also supposed to be some loot somewhere around here, but that was just a bonus.

Finally, Simon dragged himself over the top of the cliff, and Gunter hopped off his head.

"Well," said Gunter. "Here we are." He produced the ancient treasure map that had lead them to this location. "The loot should be right around..." He pointed vaguely at a large, flat rock at the top of a grassy slope. "There, I suppose. Do you think the treasure could be a rock?"

"It's not a rock, Gunter," said Simon, lifting it out of the way with some effort. "It's under the... Oh." Under the rock was a pile of smaller rocks. Simon dug through them fruitlessly. "Huh. I guess it is a rock."

Gunter looked at the map again. "Well, that's the last time I buy from the Quarry Kingdom discount bin."

Simon pushed the large rock back in place and lay on the slope below. "Ah, it's nice up here. Don't you think, Gunter?"

Gunter lay down next to him. "Yeah, yeah it is. At least this map was good for something."

Simon studied the view before him. Uuu looked nicest from above in spring, but summer was pretty as well. The mountains were blanketed in lush green forests, some of which were still moving as nomad season wrapped up. Even the Ice Kingdom looked less forbidding than usual, although Simon had proved last year that it wasn't really affected by the seasons.

He looked left, at the nearby ruins of an elevated highway. "Hey... Doesn't Bonnibel live somewhere around here?"

Gunter looked around nervously. "Hm? I think so. She... she still scares me, to be brutally honest with you."

Simon knew Bonnibel was dangerous, but he still thought about her a lot since they'd met a few months ago. She had taken their house, but she'd given it back once she'd seen how much it meant to them. So she couldn't be truly bad, especially for a mad scientist. "I wanna get to know her," he said aloud. She seemed like a cool person to hang out with, if hanging out was something she did.

Gunter stood up and walked onto Simon's chest. "Simon, don't. You've got no idea what you're messing with!"

"Maybe we should find out what we're messing with," said Simon. "Maybe... Maybe she needs a lab assistant." You couldn't do science on your own, he didn't think.

"Oh no," said Gunter. He leaned over so that he was right in Simon's face. "O-Oh no you don't. You can't!"

Simon sat up, knocking Gunter to the ground. "Don't be so ableist, Gunter." He'd never really understood what that word meant, but Gunter didn't either, so it could mean whatever he wanted it to mean. "I'll bet she's really nice when you get to know her." She'd made a mistake, but that didn't make her a bad person. She was really smart, too.

"You- You trust people too easily, Simon," said Gunter. "Just trust me on this, okay? Er..." He twiddled his flippers. "Wait, hang on, that's not right."

"I'm not a little kid anymore," said Simon, who was on the verge of getting offended. "I'm twelve! I'm a good judge of people now! Remember the sad ogre?"

Gunter paced back and forth. "Simon, you cannot go through with this. She'll... She'll turn you into candy and eat you! Or mind control you-- She is going to experiment on you!"

Simon started down a steep slope towards Bonnibel's cave. "No she won't. She's good."

"She will!" said Gunter, hurrying after him.

"No she won't," Simon replied.

"Yes she will!"

They continued arguing all the way to Bonnibel's cave. Simon had half expected it to look the way it had when he and Gunter had redecorated earlier, but Bonnibel had built a whole house next to the underground river. It was very... architectural. It looked like it belonged in one of those Victorian horror stories Simon had been reading. Lots of arches and complicated swirly bits.

He was beginning to feel nervous, but he couldn't back down now. He'd look like an idiot. Gunter would make fun of him for weeks.

Gathering his courage like he was going into a dungeon, Simon raised a hand to use the large, iron, donut-shaped knocker, and several small Gunter clones jumped on it and weighed it down.

"Gunter!" said Simon, annoyed enough to forget his nervousness. "Stop that! She's not gonna enslave me or turn me into to candy. Just relax!"

Gunter ground his beak, before taking a deep breath and saying "Okay. All right, all right. I'll just, er, go do something. Else."

The clones jumped off Simon's arm and marched back into Gunter's main body. Simon looked at Gunter. Gunter waved.

"Sure," said Simon, who wasn't fooled. "Uh, have fun, Gunts."

Instead of leaving through the entrance, Gunter dove into the river. Simon considered waiting for him to come up for air, but if Bonnibel had already seen him, he'd look stupid waiting outside on his own like that.

So he knocked on the door. Nothing happened, and Simon wondered if she'd heard it. She probably had. Unless she was standing right behind the door, she would need some time to let him in. He knew the laws of physics. Broadly.

As he debated whether it had been long enough to try knocking again, the door opened to reveal Bonnibel, looking a little confused, but otherwise exactly like Simon remembered: Labcoated, bespectacled, pink, and pretty.

Bonnibel squinted at him. "You're... Simon, right?"

She remembered him. "That's me," said Simon, and laughed nervously. "I'm Simon the Human Boy. Uh..."

No, this was all wrong. He wasn't playing it cool, he was just embarrassing himself. He slowed down a little and deepened his voice. "D-- Need a lab assistant?" That was better. He'd stuttered, but at least he'd explained why he was there, and his voice hadn't cracked.

Bonnibel frowned in confusion. "I'm n..." She hesitated and looked at him more closely. "Actually, sure. As long as you promise me one thing."

Simon swallowed. He'd half expected her to laugh in his face. "What is it?"

"My work can get a little life-threatening," said Bonnibel. "If you're gonna be my lab assistant, you gotta promise you'll trust me. Just do what I say first, ask questions later."

Simon stared at her. He didn't make promises lightly, and he'd learned his lesson about breaking them, even when they didn't seem to matter anymore. She was basically asking him to obey her unquestionably, and he still didn't know if she was even a good guy.

But he didn't want her to think he was some little kid who couldn't understand that science was hard. He was a good judge of character, and he didn't think she'd order him to do something truly immoral.

"Okay," said Simon at last. "I promise I'll do whatever you say as your lab assistant." That last part was important. This way, if she tried to order him to do something that had nothing to do with science, he could refuse without breaking his promise. And mad scientists could only hurt people with the results of their experiments, not the experiments themselves. Right?

"Okay, good enough," said Bonnibel. "Why don't you come in?"

Simon hoped he hadn't just made a huge mistake. He followed her inside, into a pretty normal looking front room with a couple of couches and a coffee table. There was a strong smell of disinfectant coming from the right, and a frighteningly organic scent coming from the left.

To Simon's relief, Bonnibel headed right, into what looked like a hospital hallway, complete with flickering lights and linoleum flooring. Bonnibel took a few twists and turns, and they emerged into some kind of operating theatre, where a peppermint in a suit was tending to someone strapped onto the operating table

"Peppermint Butler, this is Simon," said Bonnibel. "He's gonna be helping out today."

Peppermint Butler looked Simon up and down, and hissed.

Simon swallowed. He'd forgotten that you could do science on people. About to inspect the person on the table, he noticed something green moving at the edges of his vision. He looked around, but all he saw was empty hallway. Maybe it was a Gunter clone, but Simon hoped not. He was nearly a teenager. He didn't need his brother to look after him anymore.

"Actually, you arrived just in time, Simon," said Bonnibel. She gestured at the person on the operating table. "This is Arm Headears."

Simon took a closer look. It was a humanoid, maybe from the Monster Kingdom, she had an arm sticking out of her head, and she was definitely strapped down. Her ears seemed normal, from what Simon could see. "O... okay." He decided not to ask why she had to be restrained, in case it counted as breaking his promise.

Bonnibel snapped on some rubber gloves. "Okay lab assistant, hand me my scalpel." She motioned at the table to the right to the operating table, which had one tray of tools, and one empty tray.

Simon took the scalpel from the tray, stared at it, and moved his arm towards Bonnibel, letting go when she grabbed onto the handle. Maybe Arm Headears just needed a shave? With a scalpel? Even though she had no hair at all that he could see? He'd once met a family of caecilians who'd needed to shave their skin every so often, so maybe...

Bonnibel closed one eye, held the scalpel above her patient, and cut a line down the chest and stomach, while Armhead Ears twitched violently.

Simon looked away, into Peppermint Butler's angry glare. He looked away from that, into the tray. He could name some of the things in there -- forceps, scissors, saws -- but some were a complete mystery. He'd thought he'd completed his surgery picture book collection years ago, but apparently not.

"Retractor," said Bonnibel.

Simon knew what that was. He took a strip of metal with a bend on the end, and gave it to Bonnibel. He couldn't bear to watch. He wasn't squeamish, he just... He couldn't bear to acknowledge what he was participating in.

"Okay, now hand me my forceps," said Bonnibel. "The big ones."

Simon gave them to her, trying not to wonder what she was using them for. Was she removing something? Like organs? Putting something in?

Just as he thought that, Bonnibel handed him an ordinary, dry brick.

"Huh?" said Simon, without looking at her. "What is-- Uh, what do I do with this?" He'd nearly broken his promise already. Only ask questions if you don't know what to do. That was the rule he'd decided on,

"You can just put it in the tray," said Bonnibel.

Simon did, more sure than ever that he was doing the wrong thing. He was a terrible judge of character, and he was abetting something horrible. Maybe he was just destined to be a villain, no matter how much he wanted to be a hero.

While Simon tried to breathe slower and think of a way this could possibly be okay, Bonnibel gave him a rolled-up newspaper dated a few days ago, some twigs, and a miniature spoon. Simon tried to look at he to see where she was getting them, but couldn't force himself to move his head in that direction. It made sense for her to be removing them from this monster's body, and a quick peek implied that she was, but then why were they so clean and pristine? And why would they be there in the first place? Had Bonnibel put them in there before Simon had arrived?

That wasn't normal or healthy, and Simon didn't know what he'd expected. Had he thought she'd just be tipping different coloured liquids into test tubes? That was regular science stuff, and Bonnibel was a mad scientist.

Simon swallowed, and clenched his fists. He could worry about what he was complicit in later, when he had time. He forced himself to look over at Bonnibel to tell her that he was going to have to stop her. Somehow. On her home turf, where she was probably hiding more of her fighting gadgets. His word wasn't going to be worth anything after today, but it was that or completely giving up on being a hero.

Trying to ignore his tightening throat, Simon turned to see Bonnibel pressing the wound on Arm Headears' chest together. She didn't seem to need to stitch her up. Maybe she used magic.

"Hey," she said to Simon, "loosen those straps, will you?"

Simon glanced in confusion at the tray of stuff, and undid the straps keeping Arm Headears' limbs down. As he did, she began to stir.

"You're awake!" said Bonnibel. "How are you feeling?"

Arm Headears sat up. "I feel a lot better!" She had a very growly voice. "Thanks, you're a lifesaver!"

Bonnibel gave her some candy and said "Try not to go too crazy on the phasing powers from now on."

Arm Headears nodded, then glanced at Simon and pointed at him with all three hands. "Simon the Human!"

"Uh... Hey," said Simon. It still weirded him out when people seemed to know him.

Simon kept his eyes on the tray as Arm Headears left the room.

"Something on your mind, Simon?" said Bonnibel pleasantly.

"I just..." Simon began. Maybe it really hadn't been what it had looked like? Maybe he should have looked at what Bonnibel was doing instead of worrying about what might be happening. His dad had always said he thought too much. "Why was she strapped down?" Since they weren't currently doing science, it was probably okay to ask.

"Oh, that was for her safety," said Bonnibel. "She has these horrible muscle twitches when she's anaesthetised -- She listed it on her consent form."

"Huh," said Simon. He had to admit, there was a lot he could still learn about medicine. Maybe that was why he was doing this.

Peppermint Butler entered the room, carrying a tray with a teapot, a jug of milk, and a few teacups. "Tea?" he said to Bonnibel. He turned to Simon and said "Tea?" in a much angrier voice.

Bonnibel giggled, and motioned to Simon follow them out of the room. Simon did reluctantly. He couldn't resist that laugh, although Peppermint Butler was beginning to worry him. Was he jealous that Bonnibel was giving Simon so much attention? Planning something?

They drank the tea in the front room, and it was so bizarre to be doing that right after helping perform surgery. He'd had tea with his parents directly after helping them seal a demonic association of strange matter back into the space between space, more than once in fact, but that wasn't as weird. It was just normal, kiddy stuff.

His parents had drunk a lot of tea. They'd favoured a type cultivated in the Ocean Kingdom, because of course they would have drunk something that always tasted slightly of seaweed.

He missed them.

Bonnibel drained her cup and said "Okay, Pep But. We just have a couple more tests to do."

Peppermint Butler sighed, put down his cup, and said "Let's just get this over with."

They started to leave the room, then Bonnibel turned to look at Simon, who was still seated. "Hey, Simon! Why don't you come with us?"

Simon picked up his cup and followed reluctantly. What kind of tests was she doing on him? Had she turned him into candy some time before now, and was testing to see how well the change had taken? Peppermint Butler was a jerk, but nobody deserved that. Unless she was controlling him to be a jerk?

He shouldn't be thinking like this. The operation had turned out to be okay. And the tea wasn't bad. But...

They entered a completely bare room with cracked stone walls. Bonnibel pulled out a remote control with a giant satellite dish on it and typed a long sequence on its buttons.

Peppermint Butler immediately did a complicated dance, and Bonnibel took notes on a clipboard. "Stack recursion... Okay..."

"Did you just mind control him?" said Simon, almost successfully keeping the tremor out of his voice.

Bonnibel looked around at him. "Huh? Yeah."

At the same time, Peppermint Butler said "Yep!", which was impressive because Simon hadn't seen Bonnibel even touch the buttons this time.

Bonnibel offered the remote to Simon. "Do you wanna try? I still need to do a little idiot testing... I mean beta testing on the inputs."

Simon took it like it was diseased. None of the buttons were labelled, and he didn't know what Bonnibel was expecting him to do. Maybe he was supposed to press random buttons and see if Peppermint Butler... died.

Maybe this wasn't what it looked like. Maybe they were just pranking him. Maybe... Maybe this was okay somehow.

Simon closed his eyes and pressed a couple of buttons. There was a thump, and he opened them to see Peppermint Butler twitching on the floor.

Simon dropped the remote and backed away. Gunter had been right all along. Simon had had no idea what he'd been agreeing to, and it was far too late to change his mind.

Bonnibel caught the remote before it hit the ground. "Uh... Maybe you're not ready for that yet."

Behind her, Simon noticed a few clones of Gunter charging her, but when Bonnibel turned to see what he was looking at, they shrank out of existence. It would have been funny if Simon hadn't actually been in real danger.

Bonnibel pocketed the remote and said "Why don't I show you how to make candy life? It's to die for." She laughed. "I guess I'm overselling it a little, but I think you'd enjoy it."

Simon looked back at where he'd last seen the clones. She mind controlled people, there was no doubt about that, and nobody said anything was to die for if they weren't dropping dark hints. That was chapter one of the adventurer's handbook.

The first thing she'd done had turned out okay. Maybe this would be the tiebreaker. Maybe she wasn't actually planning to kill him, or convert him into candy.

He followed Bonnibel down the stairs. There was no such thing as a tiebreaker in evil. Even if you did good things, it didn't cancel out the bad things. If you did bad things, you were a bad person. That was how it worked.

But she was going to be alone with him. And she kept talking to him. She was so cool. Even if she was evil.

No. You couldn't be both cool and evil. If she was evil, she was not cool.

Bonnibel led him downstairs, into a room with a blackboard, a cauldron, and bottles of various substances that Simon couldn't identify. There was an overpowering smell of sugar. "I make it right here. It's one of my favourite hobbies. Well, more like a vocation. Candy life is far superior to the others."

"Why do you say that? Bonnibel?" Simon managed. He'd said her name. He hoped she didn't mind.

Bonnibel looked at her hand, laughed, and said "I guess I'm biased. But I hope you enjoy it as much as me."

As Bonnibel locked the door, Simon went over the possibilities in his mind. Maybe she was being completely honest and she did just want to share her interests with him. Or maybe she was dropping hints that she was going to transform and possibly eat him like Gunter had warned. Or maybe she was coming on to him, but that one was pretty unlikely. He'd be flattered, but it was unlikely. So far, the second possibility was at the top.

Bonnibel started writing complex equations on the blackboard. Simon couldn't read any of them, and he wished he'd studied higher math like he'd been meaning to lately. He had trouble with keeping the numbers consistent, but the principles were fascinating. He was definitely going to do some research if he got out of this. Maybe it would impress Bonnibel, too.

Bonnibel looked around, still writing flawlessly with one hand. "Okay, Simon, go fill the cauldron with water from the faucet."

Simon grabbed the cauldron and began pulling it to the wall. Just water? Water wasn't very sciencey. Maybe it was a distraction. Maybe she was trying to tire him out so he wouldn't be able to resist later. The cauldron was pretty light, despite being almost as big as he was, but that was only because it was empty. He didn't know if he'd be able to budge it once it was full.

"Oh, don't fill it up all the way," said Bonnibel suddenly. "Just half."

"Uh, yeah, sure thing," said Simon. She'd read his thoughts somehow, and now she was trying to confuse him. He had to keep a clear head, but it was already hard, especially with the stench of sugar everywhere. She'd probably released something into the air. Pheromones or something. Candy pheromones.

Simon stared into the cauldron has he filled it up. It wasn't big enough to fit an adult humanoid. It was big enough to fit a preteen, like him. He imagined that his distorted reflection in the water was his future self, looking up at him from the bottom of the cauldron. He had to get out of here. Now. He had to get out of here. Now. He had to get out of here. Now. He had--

"Okay, that's good," said Bonnibel, who was suddenly behind him.

Simon jumped, and turned the faucet off. He kept his hand on it, felt its coolness, and tried to slow his breathing. "Sh-should I put it back where it was?" Panicking was not going to help. It never did, but he wasn't in immediate danger yet. There was plenty of time to calm himself down, he hoped.

"Yeah, but you might need a little help," said Bonnibel, taking one handle of the cauldron.

She was surprisingly strong. Either Simon was even weaker than he'd thought, or Bonnibel worked out in her spare time. If she had any between her philanthropy and her mind control experiments. How was he going to fight her when she made her move? He was getting weaker and more confused every second.

When they got it back to the centre of the room, Bonnibel said "Now for the magic." She laughed and added "Metaphorically, I mean. This baby is all pure science. The mixture needs to be continuously stirred, so I'm gonna ask you to do that while I pour."

"Okay," said Simon, very quietly. If there was any time to break his promise, it was now, before she could create her potion and enact her scheme. He was feeling a little better, and she didn't seem to have her guard up yet. It was the perfect time to push her in, take the key, and run away.

But he couldn't bring himself to do it. Maybe this really wasn't what it looked like. If she wasn't really planning to turn him into candy, attacking her would make him look crazy, and probably offend her so much that she never wanted to see him again. He watched a lot of sitcoms, so he knew how relationships worked. He had to wait until she did something unambiguous.

He swirled the water around with a stirrer, trying to think of a good way to stall and figure out how evil she was.

"A little slower, okay?" said Bonnibel.

"Right," said Simon. If he concentrated on stirring at the right speed, maybe his mind would clear itself.

As he stirred, Bonnibel poured in liquids that she identified as food acids, colourings, flavourings, and high fructose corn syrup. The liquid turned blue, and began to thicken. Simon was really beginning to feel it in his shoulders.

Time was running out, and stirring wasn't helping at all. He had to say something, if only to get her to tip her hand. He didn't know what it would be like to be candy, but the only upside he knew of, assuming she wasn't planning to just eat him, was having an excuse to be around her. And if all this was over, he'd never have to worry about being turned into candy again. Could candy even feel fear?

"Okay, now let it sit for a while," said Bonnibel, breaking into Simon's thoughts.

Simon shook his head, then said "Yeah," so she wouldn't think he was refusing. This was going to be over soon one way or another, and he wanted it to be the way where he kept his autonomy.

"This is the absolute best part," said Bonnibel, sounding excited. "Watch closely, Simon."

The mixture did seem to be solidifying. It was shrinking away from the sides a little.

"Look real close up," said Bonnibel. "Maybe bend over the cauldron."

Simon had been expecting that. Now was the time to hit her with a sneak attack. If he couldn't get the key to the door before she recovered, maybe he could break it down instead. He'd never been good at that, and picking the lock would take too long, but maybe the adrenaline...

He was taking too long to decide, and he didn't want to look like a promise breaker who assumed the worst of everyone. He bent over the cauldron, and tensed his body. She'd have to work hard to get him off balance enough to push him in now. Although she was definitely stronger than him.

If he survived the first push, it wouldn't look rude to doubt her anymore, and his promise would be void somehow. He'd be fine, assuming she hadn't done this enough times to know what he was trying.

The mixture shrank away even more, then formed into a ball, grew arms and legs, and opened its eyes.

Simon yelled in surprise and pulled away.

Bonnibel didn't seem to mind. She reached into the cauldron and pulled the new candy lifeform out. "Aw, isn't he cute?"

"How-- How do you know it's a he?" said Simon. His mind realised that he wasn't in danger, but nobody had told his body yet. He felt stupid for what he'd nearly done, but mostly, he felt amped up and tired, like the time he'd got into his mom's stash of energy drinks.

Bonnibel looked down at the blue hard candy in her arms, and said "I don't know. I just have a sense for that biz. His name is Bobbly. Wanna help me teach him to walk and talk?"

What Simon really wanted was a nap, but he said "Yeah, sure!"

 

Bobbly was smart enough, but he didn't seem to understand the concept of putting one foot in the front of the other. And no matter what they did, they couldn't get him to speak. Eventually they taught him rap and ballet instead, which Bonnibel said was the usual backup option.

She was surprisingly gentle with Bobbly, and Simon was beginning to think that he'd been right about her all along. Had she ever lied to him at all? He couldn't remember her lying even once, which was encouraging. Honesty was one of the things that shifted you towards the good end of the alignment scale.

It was probably Gunter's fault, he thought as he corrected Bobbly's foot positions. He was going to make so much fun of Gunter once they met back up. Nothing Gunter had said had come true, except for maybe the mind control, and Bonnibel had been as honest about that as everything else. She really was on the side of good. Or at least more good than evil.

Bonnibel had to leave the room for a while, leaving Simon to train Bobbly with tongue twisters he could barely pronounce himself. When she came back, she said "Okay, I'm done with the mind control tests on Peppermint Butler, so now you gotta help me remove the chip."

Simon followed her out, holding Bobbly in his arms. "Wait-- Remove? You're gonna take it out?"

"Yeah, it'd be kinda weird if I didn't," said Bonnibel, as they entered another operating theatre, where Peppermint Butler was waiting with a huge machine covered in blinking lights. "It's right there on his contract."

"Contract?" said Simon. He put Bobbly down on the floor, trusting him to behave himself. Bonnibel wasn't just good, she was lawful good, and that was the most good you could possibly be. She just kept getting cooler.

"Yeah, man, I had a lawyer look it over," said Peppermint Butler, in a much more cheerful voice than he'd used on Simon before. When Simon looked at him, he said "I-I mean." He folded his arms and glared. "Yeah. Man. I had a lawyer look it over." He pretended to spit in the corner, to Bobbly's apparent concern.

"I think you blew your cover, Peps," said Bonnibel, sounding amused.

Now Simon understood, or thought he did. "All that hostile biz was just a front?" So that was why Bonnibel hadn't seemed worried.

Peppermint Butler held a scowl for almost ten seconds before giving up. "Okay, yeah, we were just messing with you."

"It was all some kind of test!" said Simon, who'd lost the last of his misgivings for the moment. He punched his palm. "Of course!" He hoped he'd passed it.

"Actually that's just him," said Bonnibel, while Peppermint Butler nodded his entire body. "He pranks everyone. But you have been a great lab assistant so far. You're pretty good with your hands, you know."

The most fiddly thing Simon could remember doing today was pressing some buttons, but he glowed from the compliment. "So, uh... You always get permission before you..." he said, so that he wouldn't look conceited about his dexterity.

"I never knock people out without their consent!" said Bonnibel, sounding offended. "Sorry, I should have told you up front."

Peppermint Butler had a very fake sounding coughing fit.

Bonnibel glared at him. "Okay, fine, I never knock people I like out without their consent."

Peppermint Butler practically hacked up a lung.

"I don't knock out people I like with the intent of operating on them," said Bonnibel, sounding exasperated.

"Uh, that's cool," said Simon, before Peppermint Butler could disagree with that as well. "Um, mad... ethical." Since she was good, she probably meant that she didn't ask for evil people, and it was okay not to ask evil people. Maybe. As long as you didn't kill them while you were operating on them.

"Hey, let's get this thing out of me already!" said Peppermint Butler, hopping onto the operating table.

"Right," said Bonnibel. "Simon, you can help me set up."

Simon finally relaxed, and helped Bonnibel hook Peppermint Butler up to the blinking light machine, which turned out to be life support, and give him some kind of sugary slurry that sent him to sleep. While they did that, and Bobbly practised his freestyling, Bonnibel told Simon a little more about her current areas of study. She seemed fascinated by Uuu's climate, which had more artificial elements than Simon had realised.

"But swamps can occur at any latitude, right?" Simon was saying.

"Yeah, but--" Bonnibel snapped Peppermint Butler in half vertically, with a sickening crack, "in terms of evaporation, the eastern swamp should practically be a desert. At least in winter."

Simon took a step back and reminded himself that Bonnibel was on the side of good. He searched for something to say that wouldn't make him look weird or squeamish. Right. They were talking about swamps. "Man, that place is cold in--"

The lights went off.

"What in the--?" said Bonnibel. She tapped the life support machine, which had completely stopped blinking. "The power's gone out! The whole structural integratity of his glucomatrix is gonna be compromised!"

"Is-- Is he--" Simon began, trying to ignore the feeling that this was all his fault as usual.

"He's still alive," said Bonnibel. "I can fix it, but it's gonna be--"

"Attention evil scientists!"

That was Gunter's voice, from somewhere outside. Or voices. He was talking slightly out of sync with himself because he thought it was intimidating. Even out of sync, he could be very loud when he had a lot of clones.

"I have you surrounded!" Gunter continued.

Simon looked out the window to see a wall of large clones completely surrounding the the house. "Gunter, what are you doing?"

"Nothing to say?" said Gunter, who didn't seem to have seen him. "How about letting my brother go? How about that?"

"Gunter, I'm fine!" said Simon, although he obviously couldn't hear him. Behind him, Bonnibel was working on fixing the life support, and Simon didn't want to get in the way. He didn't want to finish the job Gunter had started.

"Nothing to say?" said Gunter. "Are-- Are you even there? Oh, wait, wait, you're inside aren't you. Hang on, I'm coming in."

Good. Now Simon could explain things. It was sweet of Gunter to set off what he guess was an electro-magic pulse just to help him out, but he was doing more harm than good.

Gunter invaded the house in a series of loud rumblings. Simon glanced at Bonnibel, but she was focused on repairing the machine. A second later, countless Gunters broke down the door and poured into the room. "Found you!" said the clone in front. "Simon! Simon, are you okay?"

Simon stepped forward. "Gunter, I'm fine! Bonnibel's good! They need--" He pointed at Peppermint Butler. "If she doesn't fix that machine, he's gonna die!"

Some of the clones looked where he was pointing, but most of them kept their eyes on Simon. "Oh Gob. She's-- She's already mind controlled you!"

"I'm--" Simon began, and some of the clones tackled him to the ground.

"This is for your own good, Simon!" yelled the clone closest to him, right into his ear.

Simon fought to get them off him, as the rest of the clones jumped at Bonnibel, knocking her away from the machine. They didn't seem to have seen Bobbly, who was hiding under the operating table. Simon hoped this experience wouldn't scar him too much.

"Hey!" said Bonnibel. "Get off of me! Simon wasn't kidding, you know!"

"Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you?" said Gunter. "You'd like time to fix that-- that death ray thing. No, I know what it is! It's a mind control ray! That's how you got to him!"

"Gunter, it's life support," said Simon. "Everything's fine!" Or it had been.

Gunter swung around a clone to stare directly into Simon's eyes. "Simon, Simon, it's me! Your brother! Do... do you remember?"

"I-- Nga!" Simon tried to push some of the clones off his chest, but ended up with more climbing onto him. "I know, Gunter! I know who you are, and I am not mind controlled!"

Most of the clones were still clinging to Bonnibel, and time was running out. Simon's mind raced. Gunter was pretty much unstoppable when he wanted to be, but maybe...

"Ugh, the real Simon must be in there somewhere!" Gunter said. He slapped Simon's face lightly. "Wake up!"

"I am the real Simon, Gunter!" said Simon. "Why aren't you getting it?" But he knew why. Gunter could be very stubborn when he thought someone he liked was in danger. It was usually easier to just play along, but usually there weren't lives on the line.

Outfighting Gunter wasn't an option when he was this motivated, so Simon was going to have to outsmart him. That was always an option, no matter how many clones he had. Gunter may have made himself stronger and better at multitasking, but cloning himself never seemed to make him any smarter. He definitely wasn't stupid, but... Sometimes Simon doubted his common sense.

In fact, the harder he had to think, the more trouble he had with keeping track of his clones. Simon had an idea.

"Do I...?" he said, trying to look as confused as he could. "Have we... met?"

Gunter widened all his eyes. "Simon? Do... You remember me?"

Simon shook his head as well as he could with four or five clones sitting on it. "N... I... You gotta jog my memory. Please, G-- uh, Mr Penguin."

"Yes!" said Gunter, his voices overlapping. "Yes, I-- I can do that! I'm your brother! Gunter! You have two brothers, don't you remember?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Simon saw Bonnibel knock one clone off her, only for three more to jump on where the first had been. "G...Gun... ter?" he said, like he'd never heard the name before. "Did we... grow up together?"

"Yes, yes, of course we did!" said Gunter. He sounded relieved. "Our parents are-- were-- Their names were Godric and Inga, and they ran a detective agency. Remember? Gerald and me-- we're twins. Do you remember Gerald? Big, scruffy, no powers?"

Simon tried to shrug his shoulders. It was a shame Gerald hadn't wanted to adventure with them, but you couldn't force people to do things they weren't interested in.

The clones fighting Bonnibel were definitely beginning to slow down. Simon thought he saw her punch one out of existence, which only happened when Gunter was really distracted.

Gunter went on. "And, then, not long after we were born, mum and dad found you in the woods. You were asleep. Under a leaf. Remember?"

Simon didn't, but that was nothing new. He was pretty sure his earliest memory involved Gunter thinking Simon must be old enough to swim by now. It wasn't a good memory.

"Dad, great guy, dad, he tried to give you some baby food." Gunter chuckled. "But you spat it out."

Simon did remember spending his early childhood thinking it was strange not to want to eat your parents' vomit. Turned out it was penguins who were strange.

"You never did like penguin food very much," Gunter continued. "Remember? Do you remember? In fact, by the time you were seven, you were so sick of fish for you tried to cook your own dinner."

"What kind of food was it, Gu-- Uh, guy?" said Simon, glancing over at Bonnibel again.

"Oh, now that's easy," said Gunter. "Fried rice. You burnt it! And you, you ate it all anyway. You always were stubborn."

"Hm," said Simon. "Why did I think I could do that?" He needed to keep Gunter thinking hard.

To Simon's surprise, Gunter said "Oh, I remember that, actually! You said, you said you already knew how to build a hut out of matchsticks, so how hard could it be to cook?"

"Okay, but what colour shirt was I wearing?" said Simon, after a second.

Gunter made a few considering noises, as his other clones went completely still. Bonnibel stood up and went over to the machine. Simon tried to look at Peppermint Butler, but he was up on the operating table, and Simon had no idea what it looked like when candy people died.

"I'm... I'm sorry, Simon, I can't remember that," said Gunter eventually. "Bl... Blue? Checkered?"

"It's okay," said Simon. Now he just had to keep Gunter's attention away from Bonnibel long enough for her to fix the machine, if it wasn't already too late. "How about you tell me something else?"

"Hm," said Gunter. "Oh! Oh, I know something you probably will remember. When you were five you used to wet--"

"No!" said Simon hurriedly. "Uh, I mean, I already remember that!" Gunter obviously couldn't be trusted to bring up memories it was okay for Bonnibel to overhear. "What I wanna know is, uh... My interests!" Or was that too open-ended to be truly difficult?

"Well," said Gunter, who didn't seem to have picked up on Simon's embarrassment, "you really like to read. I mean really, really, really, really, really..." It went on for a while.

Bonnibel was working quickly, and some of the lights had already come back on her machine. Simon decided Gunter was probably not going to stop any time soon, so he interrupted, feigning happy surprise. "I remember that! I do like books!"

Encouraged, Gunter continued. "And you like to hide, everywhere, and you're really good at solving puzzles, and finishing adventures, and..." Every one of the clones started tearing up. "And you're the best human brother anyone could ever have and I am so proud we're related."

"I think I remember everything now!" said Simon, partly because Bonnibel seemed to have finished her repairs, but mostly to stop Gunter from getting more emotional over a dirty trick.

All of Gunter's clones hugged him. "Simon! You're, you're back! I thought I'd never see you again." He still sounded a little like he was crying.

Simon laughed nervously, which was difficult with the weight on his chest. He could feel some post-adventure guilt coming on. Why did he always have to do such underhanded things to make things right? How many more people was he going to hurt before he learned the proper way to adventure? "Thanks, bro. Come on, let's get out of here."

Gunter glanced around at Bonnibel, who put her hands up in feigned surrender. She was tending to Peppermint Butler, who at least seemed to be breathing. "Let's."

 

Simon visited Bonnibel a few hours later, after making Gunter a you-were-right casserole lunch and waiting until he fell asleep.

Bonnibel let him in when he knocked on the door, but he couldn't read her expression. She just looked cheerful, as she often seemed to.

"Bonnibel, I'm so sorry about Gunter," Simon burst out. "I really messed everything all up for you. Peppermint Butler nearly died, and... Gunter attacked you, and..." He was just terrible. He needed to accept that. "I'll do whatever you need to make it up to you."

"Simon, it's fine," said Bonnibel, still smiling. "Peppermint Butler knew the risks when he signed up."

Peppermint Butler peeked out from behind her. "Besides, Death owes me a couple favours. It's no big deal."

They were both so forgiving that it made Simon a little suspicious. "Uh, thanks," he said. Maybe he should stop being so paranoid all the time. Maybe they were just that nice.

"Wanna help me rearrange some guy's sense of taste with his sense of sight?" continued Bonnibel.

"Yeah, sure!" said Simon. He'd had fun earlier, when he hadn't been fearing for his life. "Heheh, Gunter thought you were gonna put some kinda chip in my brain."

"In your brain?" said Bonnibel. She snorted. "That's a waste of time. I just put one in your ear. You know, for tracking."

Simon slapped his left ear in shock. "What?! When? Take it out!" He slapped his right ear in case it was in that one instead.

"Aw, but..." Bonnibel began. "Okay, fine. After the experiment. Spoilsport."

 

Later, after Simon left, Bonnibel said "I wish he'd let me leave in that tracking chip." There was nothing wrong with keeping an eye on promising new subjects.

"Do you think he's worth it?" said Peppermint Butler, who was chopping up sticks of sulphur with a kitchen knife.

"Yeah," said Bonnibel. "He's got steady hands, and I think we can stop him if he goes rogue." Associating with kids was always a gamble, but Simon obviously had a crush on her, which combined with his Marceline-esque moral compass should make him easy enough to manipulate.

And it had been such a long time since she'd worked with a human. Their brains were getting harder and harder to come by. Maybe one day he'd let her examine his.

Chapter Text

The Year of the Sky Witch
August

Simon and Football had covered the tree fort in streamers and balloons for Gunter's birthday. They'd also covered Gunter with streamers, because he said it cheered him up, and keeping Gunter cheered up was important these days.

Gunter had been so subdued and withdrawn lately that Simon had ended up digging up a depression checklist out of an old psychology textbook and diagnosing him it. They'd had a lot of long, heartfelt conversations about feelings since then, and they seemed to be working, at least a little.

Simon hoped the discussions were working, because he was beginning to think that Gunter thought Simon was a little depressed himself, and there was no need to worry him about that. Simon was fine. He'd had his memories back for months, what else did he have to complain about?

Anyway, today was Gunter's day. "Ready?" said Simon.

"Ready," said Gunter, who was standing on the table, in front of the cake. Simon had added a little vial of something he'd found in a bakery dungeon to this one. If the finished product tasted anything like the teaspoon of batter he'd tried earlier, he really thought Gunter would like it.

"Go!" said Football, throwing her arms in the air.

Simon hurriedly clicked his stopwatch, and Gunter shrunk himself into a swarm of ant-sized clones, rushed the cake and devoured it. Simon clicked the stopwatch again. "3.43 seconds," he said. "Nice one, Gunter!" It didn't seem to be quite his best, but Simon would have to calculate Gunter's grams eaten per second to know for sure.

Gunter reassembled in the centre of the table, with a natural-looking smile in his eyes. "Simon, w-what was it you put in there, exactly? I was about to break my record, you know, very distracting."

"I'm gonna have to add more of it slow you down," said Simon. If he ever found any more. Or maybe he could analyse what was left and learn how to brew it himself. He was getting interested in cooking again.

Gunter patted his stomach. "Well, at this rate, you won't have to. I-I'm getting on in years."

"You look fine, Gunter," said Simon truthfully. He couldn't calculate penguin years in his head, but to him Gunter looked about the same now as he had ten years ago. Maybe he'd gained some weight, but that was all.

Gunter laughed. "Oh, Simon, you and your tact."

"Gunter, do you have any stories from when you were a cute baby hatchling?" said Football.

"Football!" said Simon. Football meant well, but that was just going to make Gunter feel even older.

"Well... I don't really remember, exactly..." said Gunter carefully. "I suppose I could tell some cute baby stories about Simon..."

"Uh, it's your birthday, Gunter, not mine," said Simon. Sometimes Gunter got this weird compulsion to talk about everything embarrassing Simon had ever done. Anyway, Football had already heard them all, as far as Simon was aware.

"Oh!" said Gunter. "Actually, actually I do have one! It was a day a lot like today..."

Simon waited for a few seconds. Gunter didn't say anything else. "Gunter...?" he said.

Gunter silently held up a flipper.

After a minute or two, Simon started wiping down the table. Then he went on to sweeping the confetti off the floor. Football climbed onto Gunter's head and waved her hand in front of his eyes.

It was eleven minutes before Gunter spoke again. At last, he said "And they never did."

Simon put down the dustpan and straightened up. "Huh? Never did what?"

"Tell me!" said Gunter, grinning.

Simon frowned thoughtfully. There were clearly a few more heartfelt talks in their future.

 

Godric the Penguin usually liked to practice with his grappling hook whenever he fried up some fish, but it was getting complicated now he had an egg to take care of. Maybe he should skip the grappling hook stuff just this once so he could focus on the egg and the fish, but he was a creature of habit.

He jumped down from the rafters, warmed the egg with his body heat, and flipped the fish over to check the underside. "Hm... I'd say that's just about done." He glanced at the egg. "Nervous about the hotplate, eh? Don't worry, we won't be trying to cook you." He laughed and slapped the egg lightly.

He flipped his lunch onto a plate and left the kitchen, holding the egg under his free arm.

A horrible smell assaulted his nostrils as soon as he opened the dining room door. Inga was working on her latest batch of surströmming. As much as he liked fish, Godric could not figure out what she saw in letting it ferment like that. A rotten fish was a wasted fish, although Godric knew better than to call it rotten in front of his wife.

Inga looked up from her lunch, and said "You sure you're all right to keep that egg? I can take it for a while if you like."

Godric shook his head and sat down. "Out of the question. You laid it, now it's my responsibility." You couldn't let the mother do all the egg work. That was unpenguinly. And rude, too.

That smell was really distracting, although it wasn't quite ruining Godric's lunch. "Inga? Do you think our chick will have the stomach for this stuff?"

"Well, I hope not," said Inga, with her mouth full. "That'll be more for me."

Godric shook his head and kept eating.

He finished off his bream, and said "Time to look for some cases, don't you think?"

Inga hesitated, swallowed the last of her rotten fish, then said "Why don't I take care of the cases for a while, dear? You have an egg to worry about."

"You don't have to make allowances for me," said Godric, tapping on the egg. "I'm just as agile with or without this little ball and chain."

"It's the ball and chain I'm worried about," Inga admitted. "We wouldn't want to get it in harm's way and trigger a premature hatching."

"Hm... no, but..." said Godric. Premature chicks were usually born sick, and they didn't want their child to have to go through that. "Don't worry about a thing. I'll guard our chick with my life."

"No use being reckless about it," said Inga, "but I suppose we do need to keep the money coming in." She sighed, and glanced at the living room, which was still half buried under a huge pile of mud and branches.

"Now more than ever," Godric agreed. If everything went well, this wouldn't be the last egg he'd have to carry around, but for now they could barely afford one chick, let alone two.

Inga slid to the tickertype machine in the corner and inspected the printouts. "Hm... Pink teenager abducting cattle and bringing them back wrong? That's far too dangerous for eggs."

Godric had to agree, though it sounded pretty intruiging.

"Nightly storms off north coast, suspected supernatural origin?" continued Inga.

"Let's take a look at that one," said Godric, who was itching to show their chick how supernatural detective work was done.

"Why don't we leave the ocean stuff until they've hatched, darling?" said Inga. She went on to the next entry. "Woman's cider goes missing in bucolic countryside where nothing ever happens! Perfect!"

Godric mumbled to himself about how they might as well leave the egg at home if they were going to do that. But a job was a job.

 

The missing cider belonged to Tree Trunks, a tiny elephant who brewed it from home-grown apples out in the normal woods. She believed that a "monster" was responsible for stealing it, but Inga and Godric had talked it over in the car, and they'd agreed that if it was a monster, it was the normal type from the nearby kingdom. She lived sort of close to the spooky woods, but not close enough for a supernatural explanation to be likely.

They first thing they saw when they pulled up at the house was a seal man running away with what was clearly a mug of cider.

"Hey!" said Inga. "Stop right there!" It looked like they'd found their monster without having to do any work. That was disappointing, but at least their egg was still safe.

"Stop, in the name of small business!" yelled Godric. He slid on his belly with the egg held over his head in both wings.

Inga slid after her husband. "You stop, too!" Apparently she'd relaxed too soon.

The thief took a hard right, and Godric leaned in the same direction, holding the egg to the right to increase his momentum.

"Still think it's too dangerous?" he called back.

"We use our hands for that, dear!" said Inga, as she put a flipper on the ground to follow the turn, and also to show Godric how it was supposed to be done.

Godric rammed into the thief beak-first, knocking him over and spilling the cider all over the ground.

"No!" said the thief. He sifted through the apple-scented dirt desperately. "No! What have you done?"

"You're under citizen's arrest on suspicion of petty theft," said Inga, as she caught up. "You're the cider stealing "monster", aren't you?"

"No, it belongs to my wife!" the thief insisted. "I can prove it! Just ask her!"

Godric and Inga looked at each other. In Inga's opinion, that just made him more suspicious. "All right," said Inga, "let's talk to your wife and clear everything up."

The thief gulped, and followed them back to Tree Trunks's door, still holding the empty jug.

Inga hammered on the door with a flipper. After a second, Tree Trunks opened it a crack. "Yes?" She smelled like apple juice and cheap perfume.

"Hello, ma'am, we're Godric and Inga of Godric and Inga Investigations, this is our chick--" Inga pointed at the egg, which Godric was carrying traditional-style on his feet-- "and we've taken on your cider case. We found this man--" the thief seemed to be trying to hide behind them, so Godric pulled him to the front-- "absconding with a jug of cider. He claims that he's your husband."

"Oh, Wyatt..." said Tree Trunks. "If you want more cider, you can always just ask."

"But I want all your cider!" said Wyatt, the seal man. "Don't you understand? You could never make enough to--" He glanced around. "Uh, the monster made me do it! I'm innocent!"

"Nice try," said Godric. "The only monster here is your thirst for your wife's cider."

The old refreshments dispute. They saw it all the time in their line of work. Tree Trunks and Wyatt's marriage was in trouble.

"Oh, there really is a monster," said Tree Trunks. "It's slimy, and it lives in the forest giving everyone hayfever. It's really very scary. Nobody can smell all the hot window sill pies anymore."

Wyatt stopped trying to hide behind Godric and said "See! I told you! There is a monster, and it tricked me into stealing your cider!"

"Wyatt, just stop," said Tree Trunks.

"Hm..." said Godric. "The townsfolk would be grateful to be rid of an allergy monster, wouldn't you say?"

"Well, I suppose so--" began Tree Trunks.

"Unfortunately, they'll have to put up with it until someone else comes along," Inga interrupted sharply. "We have a sensitive little egg to take care of."

"Oh, don't be such a wet blanket," said Godric, and slid off before Inga could respond.

"Let us know if your husband gives you any more trouble," said Inga, before setting off after her own husband.

She caught up as they entered the forest. "Do you really think this is a good idea, Godric?" said Inga. "Monster hunting can get hairy."

"We can't shelter our child forev--" Godric began.

Green slime rained on them from above, and Godric dissolved into sneezes.

Inga felt fine, although a little disgusted, so she helped him brush the slime off his feathers, and most importantly, off the egg. "What is this stuff?"

"The monster, I presume," said Godric weakly. His eyes were so full of tears that it didn't look like he could see through them.

"Well, it doesn't seem to work on me, so you wait here while I find out where all this is coming from," said Inga. She grabbed the nearest tree branch and began to pull herself up.

Godric wiped his nose. "Be careful."

Inga took a deep breath, and coughed a little. It was probably the leftover slime pollen in the air. At least it wasn't making her sneeze. Her immune system was better than Godric's, she guessed.

There were patches of slime all over this tree, which made climbing difficult. She was still moving pretty quickly, until she reached for a clean branch and found it suddenly slimy. Her flipper slipped off, and, startled, she fell to the ground.

Godric helped her up. "Inga! Are you all right?" He sneezed a few more times.

"I was sure--" Inga began.

Something large and green rose up between them, pushing them apart and knocking the egg from Godric's grasp. Godric glanced between Inga and the egg, unable to decide who to go after.

"I'll be fine!" said Inga. "Take care of our chick!" She produced a mace and advanced on the monster, which didn't seem to be anything more than a pile of slime.

The monster hesitated, and changed shape with a disgusting slurp, into a penguin about Inga's height, holding something vaguely mace shaped. Inga took an involuntary step back, then yelled and swung her own mace at the thing's head.

It dodged, barely, so she swung again. If it thought it could intimidate her with mimicry, it was in for a nasty surprise.

Before she could complete the swing, something rammed into her from behind. She flailed forwards, and the monster grew a horrifying, green-tooth filled chest-mouth. Inga pulled back, but not fast enough to stop it from engulfing her head and biting down.

"Inga!" Godric said from somewhere far away. "I should have stayed with you!"

"Don't be stupid," said Inga, as blackness closed in.

 

Inga insisted on calling her dinner a last meal. Godric wished she wouldn't be so dramatic. And that she'd chosen anything other than more surströmming. He'd thought they'd run out earlier, but she must have been saving this can for a special occasion. For once, he couldn't really blame her for inflicting it on him twice in one day.

Inga swallowed her last mouthful and sat back. "There. All finished. Now to turn into a slimy allergy monster forever. That's the way it works."

Godric put down the book he'd been studying. "Well, hate to disappoint, but that's not going to happen, because I'm going to go out and get a sample of this slime monster, inject it into myself, and extract the antibodies produced by my healthy body, saving your good looks." He took a breath. "Standard procedure."

Inga opened her beak to say something flippant, then clutched her head and groaned. There was a small lump peaking out from under her feathers, and it almost looked green. "Hurry."

"I'm hurrying, don't you worry about a thing!" said Godric. He put the egg in an egg carrier and strapped it to his back. No more messing around with trying to hold it on his feet. This was important.

He entered the weapon room and racked his brain for what he could afford to take. Every second he spent deciding was another second he might have a slime monster for a wife. Which would have been fine, because he loved her no matter what, but she didn't want to be one, so he needed to hurry. Besides, they didn't know whether it was a mental transformation as well. Neither of them had ever heard of anything like this.

After what felt like far too long, Godric decided on the crossbow with the diamond-tipped bolts, the two-handed broadsword, and the telescoping baton. He wanted to take the tragicomic nunchucks, but there was no more room, so the baton would have to do as a bludgeoning weapon.

"Come on, egg," he said. "We're going out to save your mum. I'd hate for you to never meet her. Seeing as it's sort of... all my fault."

 

Godric arrived back at the sneeze tree with his antihistamine spray at the ready, but the slime was nowhere to be seen. He climbed the tree with some difficulty, with the egg on his back and the weapons on his belt, expecting to be attacked any second, but the slime seemed to have disappeared completely.

Maybe it had just moved to a different tree. Godric shimmied onto on an outlying branch and tried to spot any sign of the green slime in the canopy, which was difficult in the middle of summer. All that caught his eye was the parliament of owls on the next branch arguing about foreign policy. Nothing useful there.

He was scanning what little he could see of the ground below when he sneezed, just once. "Follow the sneezes," he whispered, and jumped down.

He'd been facing east when he'd sneezed, so he headed east. After a few feet, he stopped and looked around until he sneezed again. It wasn't pleasant, using his nose as a dowsing rod, but it seemed to be working. He was deep in the forest when he had to stop to have a particularly violent sneezing fit. He wiped his eyes, sprayed some antihistamine at his nose, and looked up to see a pile of slime right in front of him.

Godric yelled and jumped back, then hurried upwind, hoping that would help with the sneezing. "I'm wise to all of your tricks now," he told it, brandishing his sword. "Give me some slime and I just might let you live." It was important to project confidence against silent mystery monsters.

The slime changed shape to match Godric, complete with weapons and egg. He'd been expecting that, so he put away the sword, drew the crossbow, and was about to fire when the slime started dividing into more copies of Godric. He twitched in surprise, and the crossbow shot went wide.

"It's some sort of mitosis attack!" said Godric. He thought he'd seen two monsters right before Inga had been bitten, but when he'd looked again, it was gone. "It won't stop me!" He fired again, but the bolt went right through the closest monster. He ran for the bolt to collect the slime off if it, and several of the monsters tackled him onto his side. "Oi!" said Godric. "Careful with the egg there!"

He shuffled around underneath the monsters, but it was hard to do without jostling the egg too much. The slime was making his eyes and nose itch, but at least he wasn't sneezing anymore. Maybe they could control it?

He was surrounded by the slime he needed, but even if he could reach the test tube he was carrying, he'd never be able to wriggle out from under all these monsters. Well, there was always negotiation to fall back on. "Er. I don't think we've been introduced, have we? I'm Godric the Penguin, and... do you have any kids of your own?"

The monsters didn't react at all.

"I don't quite yet, but..." He chuckled and tried to gesture at the egg. "The wife and I are new parents, and we're interested in... you know... being around to raise our kid. You know how it is."

The monsters were still and silent.

"We've been planning th--" began Godric, and all the monsters suddenly stiffened. Had he got through to them? "We've been planning this for a long time," he repeated. "And it's hard to be a parent when one's a slime monster-- no offence meant to you of course-- and one's immobile in the untamed woods."

The monsters were starting to shrink, and the pressure was beginning to lessen. Godric could reach the test tube in his belt now, so he skimmed a sample of the slime, then checked on the egg. Thankfully, it was undamaged, although it seemed to be wriggling a little inside. How long had it been doing that?

Godric got to his feet. "Thanks for understanding!" he said, and ran away as fast as he could. He'd got the slime. Inga was going to be okay. As long as he wasn't too late.

 

Inga didn't know what was going to happen first: her impending slime monsterification, or her head splitting open. She'd caught herself fantasising about taking the drill sword in the weapon room to her skull more than once.

She staggered over to the coffee table and tried to to take her temperature again, but her flippers were shaking too badly. The thermometer slipped out of her grasp and clattered onto the floor.

Oh well. She knew what it would have said. 40 degrees Celsius, just like every other time she'd checked. Her head felt like it was about to explode, but at least she didn't have a fever.

The pressure in her head was still intensifying. Inga stumbled over to the door, barely noticing that she'd stepped on the thermometer and smashed it. She needed some fresh air. That always helped when she was sick.

"It's all working," she murmured, for some reason. Her sickness was making her strangely satisfied about her headache. It was diabolical. "I thought I'd never be..."

Inga collapsed, and slowly pushed herself back up. "Godric?" she mumbled. He'd found the leftovers-- the slime monster. She didn't know how she knew that, but she did. It was holding him so he couldn't interfere, and it didn't care if it crushed the egg in the process.

"Be careful!" she said, but she could tell that he was. He probably could have got free with some effort, but he obviously didn't want to endanger their egg.

How could the pain still be getting worse? It was almost ready, and she didn't need the failsafe anymore. Nothing would interfere now.

Godric vanished, and Inga stumbled outside. She didn't want to die or turn into slime in this warm, stuffy room.

The air outside was cooler, but she barely felt it. Every part of her mind not taken up with pain was worrying about Godric and their egg. She wished she could still tell what was going on, but the clones had been dismissed for good. Whatever that meant.

Inga leaned against one of the cursed monuments in the garden, but she couldn't stop herself from slipping down little by little. She had to stay upright. It was really important that she not disturb the... What?

She'd slipped halfway to the ground when Godric finally arrived, with an empty test tube and a slightly cracked egg.

For a second, the shock nearly banished the pain. "Godric," she managed to say. "What did you do to..." She pointed at the egg.

Godric glanced around, and said "Nothing! It was our child! Inga, I think the egg is about to hatch!"

"I think my head is about to hatch," groaned Inga.

"Not to worry, I have--" said Godric, and poked a syringe into the test tube. He looked at the still empty syringe, frowned, and looked at the test tube more closely. "What-- What happened to the slime?" He felt around with the tip of his wing. "It was there before! I'm certain of it!"

It was gone because it had been abandoned, and Inga wanted to tell him that, but she couldn't focus well enough to speak anymore.

The pain swelled one more time, and didn't stop until it erupted out of her head. Suddenly exhausted, Inga took a sharp breath, and looked down to see a baby penguin on the ground in front of her. The chick looked up at her, said "Hello!" in a surprisingly adult voice, and fell asleep.

The egg had hatched without her noticing, and somehow the hatchling had walked towards her, and learned to speak...

Inga raised her eyes to where the egg had been. It was still there. A piece of shell fell off it, and a tiny grey flipper poked experimentally out of the hole.

 

For once, both the kids were asleep at the same time. If Inga and Godric were lucky, they'd stay that way for a hour or two, and let their parents rest.

They'd taken them down to the beach, a nice, homey spot covered in pebbles. The chicks seemed to like it, although it was hard to tell. They wouldn't even be talking for a couple more weeks.

"I meant to say, dear, I like your new hat," said Godric.

Inga tipped it. She liked it too. "It's a lot better than those wigs we were looking at. Wigs just don't suit me." She was a bird. Wigs were for dogs, or horses, or other mammals. She needed something to cover up her new head scar and stop people asking uncomfortable questions, and hats worked fine.

Inga rubbed the top of her head under her hat, and added "I think we'll adopt next time." And she'd thought laying eggs was painful.

"No argument there," said Godric. He bent over the pram that the chicks were sleeping in, and added "Er... Do you think it's... safe to keep them so close together? We never figured out what Gunter was."

"We know exactly what they are," said Inga. "They're our chick." She thought she'd seen Gunter make a copy of themself that was the same unsettling green as the monster, but she might have imagined it, like she'd imagined Gunter talking to her at their birth.

Or maybe the monster had passed down some of its powers. That was a good thing if either of them wanted to follow in their parents' footsteps.

"You know we can't treat the two of them differently," Inga continued. "They can't help how they were born." Their parenting classes had covered what to expect if your child was exposed to horrible forces beyond your comprehension. The important thing was not to fear them, no matter what. Kids could tell when their parents were scared of them, and it wasn't good for their development.

Godric exhaled, and said "You're right, of course. Gunter, Gerald... They're our twin babies. In fact, why don't we never tell them they're different."

Inga nodded. "No need to upset them." She remembered the way she'd felt after she'd been bitten, like a plan was coming together, and decided that Godric didn't have to know about that, either. She'd probably imagined the whole thing. No need to upset him.

Chapter Text

The Year of the Comet
June

The room on Stakeout Way so cramped that Simon couldn't stand up without ducking his head. Like most of the upper rooms around here, there was no door, only a window that looked out onto the street. Simon and Gunter were squashed up between the front and back walls, wearing headsets and staring at the monster tavern opposite. At least, Simon was staring. Gunter was looking at the ceiling and tossing a small clone of himself from flipper to flipper.

Outside, it had started to snow, which was strange because it was the middle of summer. But they'd have time to look into the weather later. The Angel Kids were back out of kid jail, and according to Simon's contact in the monster underworld, they'd gone right back to their usual hobby.

So far, all Simon and Gunter had observed was that the Angel Kids had a lot of miniature cocktail sausages, which they were currently giving out to the underprivileged. Simon assumed it was a misdirection tactic, but maybe he was being uncharitable. Maybe they did care about their community when they weren't robbing it blind.

Gunter fumbled his clone and dropped it on the floor. "Ow. Do you think it's time to let down our guard yet?"

"No, Gunter," said Simon. "They're up to something." The Angel Kids were the biggest juvenile repeat offenders in the Monster Kingdom. They didn't know that the guards were on to them again, Simon hoped. They always pretended they were reformed, but nothing seemed to get through to them. It was getting depressing.

A cloud spirit who didn't even live in the area swooped out of the sky and stole the last sausage. Simon readjusted his headset and listened intently.

Mark, the lion-faced spokesman of the Angel Kids, was asking the monster tavern proprietor, a batbug, if it was okay if they set up a white elephant sale nearby.

"As long as you don't sell real white elephants!" the proprietor laughed, and went back inside.

The four kids set up a table like they'd done it a hundred times, which they probably had, and set out some painted rocks on top. They also added a sign large enough to be read from the other side of the street: "ROCKS: $100". It looked like Madison and Bobby would be the vendors today, with Mark as a buyer, and Ralph as a bystander.

Gunter leaned forwards. "Aw, that's adorable."

"Careful, Gunter," said Simon. "It's a trap."

"Well, I think you're being too hard on these little, er... seraphim," said Gunter.

"Cherubim," Simon muttered, without taking his eyes off the table. He would have been worried the Angel Kids might see him if they looked up, but they were too busy staring at the tavern, and at the nearby five-way intersection waiting for a mark to appear. "They got the four wings with eyes. Seraphim have the six wings and the flaming biz." He gestured vaguely in Gunter's direction.

They weren't really cherubim, or even technically angels, since they weren't in service to any glob, but they looked kind of similar, and that was close enough for most people.

There was sudden movement. The kingdom's gravedigger, Soldier Ant, was coming down the street, whistling to herself through her mandibles. It was time for the show to start.

Mark slammed his hands on the counter and said "Lady, you can't be seriously asking a hundred dollars for this junk!"

Madison shrugged. "If you don't wanna buy, mister, then move along."

Mark rummaged theatrically in his pockets. "I'll give you a fifty for it, and that's my final offer."

"We're trying to make a profit here," said Madison, "so move along."

Simon thought their script was a little on the repetitive side, but the acting was fairly convincing. Gunter mostly looked mystified, although he at least seemed to be paying attention.

Mark stomped away, and bumped very deliberately into Soldier Ant. "Oh! I'm sorry." He lowered his voice, and Simon turned up the gain on the microphone. "Those guys are selling a genuine magical rock talisman for a hundred, like idiots."

"A genuine what?" said Soldier Ant, at normal volume.

Mark flapped his flight wings in feigned agitation. "Shh! Keep your voice down. Hey ma'am, how much money are you carrying?"

"Uh..." Soldier Ant rifled through the bag she kept on her knee. "Oh yeah, my entire life savings. That way nobody can take it while I'm not around," she added in a conspiratorial whisper.

Mark grinned widely for a second, but Soldier Ant didn't seem to notice. "That talisman is worth, uh... ten thousand... times your entire life savings! I'd buy it myself, but I only have a fifty." He pretended to get an idea. "I know! If you lend me the difference, I can buy it and we can split the profits!" He handed Soldier Ant a card. "I'm an expert dealer in genuine magical rock talismans."

Simon couldn't see the card from where he was sitting, but he knew what it said, more or less. The Angel Kids used fake business cards so often in their scams that they practically had them trademarked. In fact, Madison had once tried to reinvent trademarks just so they could register them. The cards looked pretty professional for what they were.

Soldier Ant started to pull out her money, but then she hesitated. "How do I know you're not going to just take my money and run?" Mark started to speak, but she interrupted him. "You've gotta be careful these days. Wait here, I'll to buy it myself."

She marched up to the table, put some money down, and said "Give me the rock that other guy was looking at."

Madison pulled the rocks away from her. "Price's gone up. Why do you guys want this stupid rock so much? Is there something special about it? We just found it on the ground out in the spooky woods."

"No!" said Soldier Ant quickly. "No, just a normal rock, how much do you want for it?"

Madison whispered to the Bobby, then said "Make us an offer."

Soldier Ant barely hesitated before throwing what appeared to be her entire life savings on the table.

Bobby snatched it up before she could change her mind, and Madison gave her the rock, saying "Here's your dumb rock. Pleasure doing business with you."

Simon had seen enough. He picked up his walkie talkie and said "It's time," hoping he sounded as cool as he felt.

Nearly thirty gargoyle guards jumped out of their hiding places and converged on the monster tavern. That was probably enough to handle four young kids, if they remembered their training, but Simon didn't want to take any chances with Soldier Ant's entire life savings. He and Gunter jumped out of the window and swung to the ground.

The Angel Kids dropped the money, hurriedly packed their stuff, and half climbed, half flew up the side of the tavern, while two gargoyle guards bumped into each other nearby. A few other guards were already lifting into the air themselves.

Simon reached the other side of the street and climbed onto the roof of another house, trying to judge the kids' route. It looked like they were heading for the Colonial Mound district. Probably hoping to lose their pursuers in the tunnels.

The rooftop route to the Colonial Mound district was circuitous if you couldn't fly, and a little slippery in this weather, but Simon and Gunter knew enough tricks to keep up, barely. The gargoyles could fly, but they were still falling behind. If they could just reach the kids before they entered the tunnels...

Bobby glanced around, saw Simon and Gunter hot on their trail, and hurried his friends over the top of the closest mound, obscuring them from view. Simon leaped forward, grabbed the mound with his fingertips, and pulled himself up just in time to see the kids disappear down a boxy mound to the left.

"Gunter!" said Simon, as he rubbed his shoulder. It ached even when he wasn't putting any weight on it, and he hoped it wasn't sprained again. "They went into the Wood mound!" It wasn't one of their prepared escape routes. They'd probably panicked.

"Aye aye, brother!" said Gunter, and climbed gingerly to the ground.

Simon jumped into the Wood mound to flush the kids out, using a square of cloth as a makeshift parachute. He hit the mound floor hard and took off running after the kids through the tunnels, dodging the inhabitants of the mound and apologising as he did.

He'd hoped that the Angel Kids would take a wrong turn, and he'd be able to trap them in a dead end, but unfortunately they seemed to know where they were going. As they reached the bottom of the mound, they each took a hard turn upwards and disappeared from sight. This was the only other exit to this mound, a metal chute with a square of cloudy sky visible at the time. It was supposed to be impassable if you couldn't fly. But the walls of the chute were so close together that pressure walking up was almost easier.

Simon put some chalk on his hands and scrambled up to the top, to find Gunter and three of his clones holding each of the kids in the penguin equivalent of a bear hug. "Nice job, Gunts." He turned to the kids. "Busted. You guys are going back to kid jail."

The kids groaned. "We always have to go to kid jail!" Bobby complained.

"It's not fair!" said Madison.

Simon said "If you don't wanna go to kid jail, you gotta... stop committing crimes." Telling them that never worked, though. They acted liked the guards were the unreasonable ones for not letting them do whatever they wanted. "Gunter? Scare 'em straight." Gunter had been a criminal once, although he'd got out before there'd been any real consequences.

Gunter released the kids and absorbed his clones. "Okay. Kids. Now I know you think it's "fun" and "funny" and "lucrative" to sell those worthless rocks at your comically inflated prices, but I'm here to tell you that it's wrong. And, er, bad. You could hurt someone, you know. And..." He paused for effect. "It might just be someone you like. That you hurt."

Mark shrugged, and said "That's the risks of the job, penguin."

"We're not gonna hurt people we like," Madison put in. "We're not idiots."

Gunter hesitated. "You can really do that?" He put his flipper to his beak. "Don't... don't hurt people you like..."

"Uh, Gunter, I got it from here," said Simon. That had backfired, but Gunter usually did the right thing once he'd had time to think about it. "You can take a break."

Gunter let the kids go, reabsorbed his clones, and wandered off, muttering "Just what are good and evil, anyway...?"

"Okay, kids," said Simon. "I'm taking you in." He rolled his sleeves up over his shoulders for effect.

"Why do we always have to get taken in?" said Mark. "We never learned nothing from kid jail."

That thought had occurred to Simon, but he didn't know what else to do about them. Maybe one day, the message would sink it at last. "That's the l--"

"Aw, don't bother trying to convince him," Ralph interrupted. "His parents stuck around his whole life. He never had to live on the street."

"I don't got time to tell you kids my whole backstory," said Simon, who mostly just didn't want to think about his parents, "but maybe you better not assume, huh?"

"See!" said Ralph. "Backstory! I don't even know what that means. He's probably seen snow."

Confused, Simon indicated the air around him. "B-- It's snowing right now!" There was no way they didn't know what snow was, but he didn't know what they were trying to pull on him. You could never trust anything that came from a con artist, even ones as young as these.

The kids stared upwards in wonderment. "That's snow?" said Mark.

"It's beautiful!" said Madison. She stuck out her tongue to catch a snowflake.

Okay, they wanted him to underestimate their intelligence. But he already knew they weren't stupid. They were actually really smart kids, but they wouldn't stop stealing and lying, no matter what anyone did.

"Simon lives in a nature tree," said Bobby sadly. "We don't even know what a nature is. Okay, Mr The Human. Take us to kid jail." He held out his wrists as though he thought Simon was carrying handcuffs.

They seemed to want him to take him out into the wilderness. Maybe they were looking for new marks? That made sense. Law enforcement in the forest was pretty spotty compared to the city.

And maybe he would. He'd let them think he wasn't on to them, until they made their move. Then he'd bust them again, and they'd realise that confidence tricks wouldn't get you everywhere in life.

Maybe they'd even enjoy themselves out there.

"Hang on a second," he said, and pulled out his walkie-talkie. "Hey, Marceline. I think these kids just need a nature walk. I'm gonna take them into the spooky woods, okay?"

Marceline's voice came faintly through the speaker. "What? The Angel Kids? Do you really think you can trust them out there, Simon?"

"No, of course not!" said Simon in a cheerful tone, as though she'd asked if it was too dangerous.

Marceline was silent for a second. "Oh, I see what you're doing. Go ahead, but I'm gonna have the guards on call, okay?"

"Good idea," said Simon. "I think they're gonna learn a lot. Everyone deserves a chance." He meant that last part.

 

It took a couple of hours to get the kids ready and in appropriate clothes. It was colder outside than in the Monster Kingdom, but Bobby's mom had arranged hats, scarves, and gloves for all four of them. She was nice, but in a lot of denial about her son's delinquent tendencies.

As soon as they got out of the walls, Bobby pointed at a rotten log and said "Guys, check that out! It's alive!"

Simon tried to figure out if his excitement was genuine. Maybe it didn't matter.

Madison started swinging on a branch, while Ralph and Mark built a snowman, with rocks for eyes and a mouth, and a business card for a nose.

Bobby collected some maggots and pill bugs, and they went for a walk. Simon narrated what they were seeing, and the kids feigned interest and excitement. Simon kept an eye out for anything they might try to use to distract him.

For a while, it was nice. Even though he knew they were faking it, he liked having some kids to teach. It made him feel like he was contributing, which was stupid because he'd saved the world at least four times by now.

They came to a river, and walked along the bank for a little way. At this time of year, the river should have been placid, but the water was moving surprisingly fast. All the rivers around here were doing it, and it seemed to be related to the cold weather, although rapid flowing rivers were more of a spring thing than a winter thing.

Simon pointed out a fallen tree up that spanned the river up ahead. "That's Fallen Tree Crossing." It didn't actually have a name, but it made him sound more authoritative. "Me and Gunter-- Uh, Gunter and I knocked it down a couple years ago, so we could cross the river."

"What kind of tree is it?" said Ralph, sounding interested.

"It's an Quercus mortuus," said Simon. "A Living Death Oak. They're like other oaks, except they have no leaves and all their cells are dead." If they were going to try to scam him, they'd have to put up with listening to him talk about interesting things. He didn't miss the kids whispering to each other, though. "I think they photosynthesise -- turn light to energy -- with magic, or maybe they--"

"Can we try it?" Mark interrupted. "Can we try the bridge?"

Simon stared at the bridge. It was a little slippery, and the river below was fast and probably freezing. On the other hand, they all had wings and good reflexes. "Okay," he said. "But make sure not to fall in the river. It's real dangerous. I mean, really dangerous. If you slip, get airborne before you hit the water, okay"

"Yeah, okay, sure," said Mark, who didn't sound like he was listening. He climbed onto the tree trunk.

"I mean it, Mark!" said Simon. "It's really dangerous."

Mark looked him in the eye. "I'll be careful."

He turned away and started walking across the river, with his arms and both sets of wings outstretched, while his friends cheered him on.

Halfway across, Mark started to wobble theatrically. He hadn't slipped, Simon had been watching. Was he trying to distract Simon? Here? He couldn't be that stupid, could he?

Mark finished wobbling, and fell off. Simon lunged forwards, missed his wings by inches, and watched helplessly as Mark hit the water and went under.

"Stay there and don't move!" Simon snapped at the other three, and ran downstream. Mark was coughing and beating the water frantically, but he didn't seem to be able to keep his head above the surface for more than a second. If the river was as cold as Simon thought, he'd probably gasped as he'd gone under, and now he couldn't breathe for long enough to get rid of the water he'd inhaled.

Simon caught up, took a rope from his bag, and threw the end at Mark. "Quickly! Grab this!"

Still flailing, Mark slapped at the rope without managing to close his fingers around it. He started to yell something, then went under again.

Mark's fingers were already too stiff to hold his weight. This wasn't going to work, and Simon didn't know if he was angrier at Mark for disregarding his warnings, or himself for expecting the kids to listen to him.

There was no time to put on a wetsuit, and Simon knew better than to jump in unprotected in this weather. He kept pace with the river and stared ahead, while also watching Mark and trying not to trip over anything. There. There was a branch that hung over directly over the river. He sprinted to it and jumped on, noticing out of the corner of his eye that Mark had almost stopped struggling.

Simon reached down and managed to grab Mark by his curly blond hair, and then by the jacket collar. The branch began to groan under him, and he yanked Mark out of the water and shimmied back to shore.

Mark was cold, and he wasn't breathing. Carefully, Simon carried him down from the tree and laid him on the ground, tilting his head to the side so that the water ran out of his mouth and nose. It was a good thing Mark wasn't exactly a cherub, and only had one face, because Simon had never learned how to perform quadfacial first aid.

Even though he wasn't breathing, Mark was definitely still alive. Sealing off the airways was one of the first thing the body did to stop inhaled water from entering the lungs, and it was usually reversible. Usually. Simon leaned over and breathed twice into Mark's mouth. Mark's chest didn't move, so Simon waited a few seconds, and tried again.

He was about to try a third time when Mark started coughing. Simon laughed in relief and looked through his bag for the spare clothes he'd packed the kids.

Now that Mark wasn't in immediate danger, Simon had time to think about what had just happened. What was wrong with these kids? What was wrong with him? He'd been expecting them to try something to distract him, but he'd expected something... something harmless and safe. The kids acted so cynical that it was easy to forget how young and naive they were, but that wasn't an excuse. The kids should have listened to him, but he should never have put them in danger.

Mark began to come around as Simon changed him into some dry clothes. Simon had to keep reminding himself to be gentle, no matter how angry he was at him. This might have been completely preventable, but that didn't make cold water any less dangerous.

He carried Mark back up the river to the others. Mark tried to say something, but it came out as a croak.

Back at the bridge, the other kids had set up their table, complete with pile of rocks they'd apparently just picked up off the ground. There were some foxes clustered around the table, wearing red summer coats that looked strange against the white snow.

"Hey!" Simon yelled.

The kids turned around, showing him well-practised innocent expressions. A few business cards slipped out of Ralph's jacket.

"Don't give me--" Simon cut himself off and glanced at the foxes, who were also looking at him. "Guys, it's a scam," he said, with forced calm. "The rocks are worthless."

"Aw..." muttered one of the foxes. "Come on guys, let's take our masonry business elsewhere."

Simon checked Mark's pulse as the foxes walked away. It was strengthening, so he put him down. "What were you thinking? I figured you were gonna try to distract me with... I don't know, an interesting plant or... something! I told you the river was dangerous! Mark could have died!"

"Huh?" said Ralph. He poked Mark gently. "It's just water. Water never hurt nobody."

"Water hurts lots of people," said Simon, briefly thinking of Betty. "Especially cold water! You ever heard of cold water shock? When you fall--"

"Wait, wait, wait," said Madison, packing away the table. "You knew we were conning you this whole time?"

"Huh?" said Simon distractedly. "Yeah, it was kinda obvious." That didn't matter anymore. What mattered was the kids' recklessness, and his inability to see it coming.

"You scammed us!" said Bobby, sounding impressed.

"You're even worse than we are!" said Ralph.

"What?" said Simon, shocked out of his anger a little. "No! No, I was just trying to teach you a lesson about..." What had he been trying to teach them? That he was smart enough not to fall for their tricks? Obviously he wasn't.

"You gotta teach us your ways!" said Bobby.

"Yeah," said Mark weakly. "You really know what you're talking about."

"Are you guys even listening to me?" said Simon. "Don't go around jumping into rivers at this time of year-- uh, in the cold. It jangles up your breathing, and your hands and feet get--"

"Yeah, yeah," said Bobby. "It's just water. Tell us how you figured us out!"

Simon pressed his hands to his temples in frustration, then said "Okay. Think of it this way. You gotta pick your marks. Right?"

"Yeah, everyone knows that," said Ralph.

Simon tried to think of what he was trying to say in terms of a scam. It wasn't easy. "Well, think of the river as a person-- a sucker. You can get whatever you want out of it if you know what you're doing, but you gotta understand how it ticks first. Or you're just gonna get hurt."

"Ooooooh," said all the kids in unison.

"It really was boneheaded of me to fall in there," said Mark. He stood up unsteadily.

Simon couldn't believe that had worked. He would have thought they were still messing with him if he'd ever seen these look of genuine surprise and interest on their faces before. "Mark, you gotta rest. Your body took a real pummelling."

Mark ignored him. "Fellas, let's hold off on scamming cold rivers until we figure out what they're really thinkng."

Simon sighed. "Fine, the river, uh, stole your body heat, and your body's working overtime to make back the loss. Overworked employees make mistakes, right? You're not the only one who knows the best time to pull off a scam. Don't give... disease... the opportunity."

"Why didn't you say so in the first place?" said Mark, and quickly sat back down.

"We better build a fire," said Simon. He glanced up, and was a little startled to see the sun still high in the sky. He kept forgetting it was June. Well, even though they didn't need the light, Mark still needed to stay warm. "Uh, to give Mark's body the hint."

He reached into his bag and pulled out his fire starting kit, which consisted of a curved piece of metal and a black rock. "Now, this is flint and steel. You can use it to make fire." It occurred to him that teaching a group of juvenile delinquents how to start fires might not have been his best idea, but it was too late now. Besides, they probably already knew a few ways to do that already.

"Where are the matches?" said Ralph. He got up close. "Don't you need-- You know how to pull one over on fire?"

Simon hesitated for a second, then said "Yeah." Actually, although he did carry matches, using them around anything flammable made him nervous. He'd do it if he had to, but he felt more comfortable with something that didn't burst into flame so easily. "First we need some tinder. That's what we call stuff to start a fire so it doesn't catch on what we're gonna use it for. We need something small, like pine needles, because, uh..." Because tinder needed as a high surface area as possible to help the fire spread, but he didn't know how to phrase it in a way they'd understand.

"So they're packed in tight and there's nowhere to run to!" said Bobby suddenly.

"Yeah!" said Simon. "It's kinda like that." He'd explain more when he figured out how.

Madison, Ralph and Bobby dug in the snow, and gave Simon the pine needles they'd found underneath. Simon brushed the snow off them and said "These'll do fine." They were a little damp, but that was okay. He dug the snow on the ground away with his fingers, until the grass was exposed. "Gotta get rid of the snow so it doesn't try anything funny."

He put the tinder they'd gathered onto the ground, and bashed the flint against the steel, creating a small spark. The spark fell onto the pine needles, and Simon blew on it gently, hoping that it would catch first try. The pine needles started to smoke slightly, and soon burst into flame.

All four kids looked at him like he'd just transformed a mouse into an elephant. "You made it stronger by blowing on it!" said Madison. "How'd you pull that off?"

"Okay," said Simon, "so, fire actually likes air. Can't live without it, in fact. But it can't stand too much at a time. That's why you gotta blow gently. Lull it into a false sense of security." That didn't make sense, but he didn't want the kids to think that oxygen was bad for fire, because that wasn't true at all. "That reminds me, we gotta keep the fire going, but we can't put too much wood on at once. Don't wanna suffocate it, right?"

"Can we look at your flint and steel?" said Madison, holding out her hands.

"Sure," said Simon, after a second. "But don't try starting any more fires, and don't get any sparks on your skin. Remember what I said about picking your marks."

He gave them the flint and steel, and watched as they tried to strike it like he had. Maybe they'd actually absorbed what he'd told them. Maybe he should try teaching them other things. They might have been lying about not knowing what snow was, but he still doubted they got out of the city often. A camping trip might be good for them.

Simon walked just out of earshot, and called Marceline on the crystal phone.

"Simon!" said Marceline. She sounded a little concerned. "What's going on? How's your nature walk?"

"It's going great," said Simon softly. "I think I got their number. They're starting to listen to me."

"You actually got through to them?" said Marceline. "That's a first. Keep up the good work. And try not to go mad with power, okay?"

Simon felt a sudden chill that had nothing to do with the weather, but he forced a laugh. "Dang, there go my plans for world domination." He'd forgotten how sensitive kids could be at that age. You could really hurt them if you weren't careful; he knew that better than most people. But he was being careful. Besides, it wasn't like he was lying to them about anything. He just wanted to help.

Or maybe he wanted to show off.

Simon forced himself to stop worrying, and explained his plans. Marceline laughed, and abruptly hung up. That was a little concerning, but it wasn't unusual. Marceline wasn't in town very often, and it seemed like every crisis waited for her to come back before it happened. She'd call him back if she needed to.

Mark was standing up again, and he seemed healthier. Bobby had had the flint and steel back for a while, and none of the other kids seemed interested in it anymore. It was time to find something to eat.

"Now, berries can be secretive," said Simon, leading the kids away from the campfire. "Some of them are edible, some aren't, and the edible ones ain't talking. But they're dumb, too. You can always tell which ones are edible by looking."

"Do they have a big 'eat me' sign on them?" said Bobby, as he and the others inspected the closest bush.

"Nah, they're not that stupid," Simon responded. He picked one of the berries. "See those green spots? Grey with green spots means zombieberries. Undead food. The living gotta leave 'em alone."

"I'm hungry," Madison complained. "Make them think they're safe for us, Mr Simon."

"Why go to all that effort?" said Simon, who wasn't sure what tricking a poisonous berry into thinking it wasn't poisonous might entail. Zombieberries were entirely made of poisonous compounds, unless you were already dead.

He wasn't a mister, and Simon was his first name, but he didn't know how to feel about what Madison had called him. It made him feel kind of important. Almost like a real teacher.

He walked to the next bush over, and picked out a berry that absorbed light so completely that it looked like a black oval. "This is a darknessberry. They're safe for all peeps to eat." To demonstrate, he put it in his mouth. It tasted like entropy.

"Let's go, guys!" said Mark. He flew into the air, although the bush wasn't much taller than he was. "Pick 'em off the branch when they're not looking!"

After that, Simon taught them how to scam some drinking water from the river that had almost killed Mark, and then how to trick the snow into keeping them warm with an igloo. They really seemed to be having genuine fun, as long as they thought everything was some sort of wilderness racket.

By the time they completed the igloo, the sun was finally beginning to go down. Bobby sat inside for a while, climbed out, and said "Hey, Mr Simon! It was warm in here! How did you make snow think it was warm?"

They'd been asking him questions like this all day. It was great, and figuring out answers they'd listen to was almost automatic. "Snow is cold, right? It don't want our body heat, but the heat's gotta go somewhere. You can't just destroy it. So it sticks around inside the igloo."

Bobby especially was hanging on to Simon's every word. Simon knew because he kept asking questions, especially about other aspects of things that Simon had explained already. Was this what teachers felt like when they got students who actually listened to what they said?

He was going to have to do something about bedclothes soon. He hadn't expected to be camping overnight when he'd packed. Maybe they could weave some leaves into sleeping bags. Or maybe they'd had enough wilderness survival stuff for tonight. He was sure he had some things in his bag that could double as sleep clothes, if they didn't want to sleep in their jackets.

Simon stepped back and leaned against a tree, watching the kids crawl in and out of the igloo, and gingerly feed the fire with sticks. This morning, when he'd set up the bust, he would have thought this was impossible. You could broaden anyone's horizons if your approach was right. He was so proud of them.

Maybe he should tell them that, if they didn't think he was being sentimental. Simon tried to lean away from the tree, and stumbled as it held his back in place.

Oh no.

He screamed to alert the kids, and struggled against the tree's grip. It was no use. He'd been leaning against it for too long. These things weren't even that dangerous if you caught them early, and usually he wouldn't lean on any tree in the spooky woods without at least checking it first. He'd got so caught up in pretending he was invincible that he'd started to believe it himself.

The kids abandoned what they were doing, and flew over to him. "What's going on, Mr Simon?" said Mark. "What's wrong with that tree?"

"It's trying to eat me!" said Simon. They'd never listen to him now, not when he'd made such a basic mistake. "Hit it and it'll get confused and it'll let me go!" He was probably supposed to couch it in con artist language, but he was too busy panicking and berating himself to think of any. They were bright kids. They'd work it out, wouldn't they?

"Hit it?" said Mark.

"Like, violently?" said Madison. "We can't do that! It's against our code!"

"We're not going back to the old days," said Ralph. "We made a pact: Non-violent cons only."

"It's not a con!" Simon shouted. He pushed his head forward as far as he could to keep it from being sucked into the tree. Most of his body was already inside. "It's a monster! Sometimes you gotta solve problems with pu--" The tree engulfed him completely.

Simon had read about what trees had inside their trunks. There were tiny vessels called xylem, which carried water, and phloem, which carried tree blood. Or maybe they were types of cell. Or both. He'd memorised the words, but not the definitions.

He'd also read about what the inside of a tree trunk looked like to a victim of a carnivorous broadleaf. There was no light, but they saw green. It turned out that was true. There was no air, but they smelled fresh-cut grass. That was true too.

And he couldn't move.

Simon knew he should be scared, but all he could do was wonder what had happened to the xylem and phloem. There was no grass inside tree trunks. Grass and trees were two completely different types of plant. Trees contained wood. And wood was made from cellulose, hemicellulose, and lig... something.

His exposed skin was starting to fuse with the tree now. Once that process was completed, his mind would be next. And then...

The tree spat him back out into the forest. Simon collapsed on the ground, then stood, not bothering to pretend to be composed. The Angel Kids were clustered around the tree, and Ralph still had a fist raised. "Thanks, kids. I thought..."

"I told you he'd be disappointed," Madison whispered to the others.

"Disappointed?" said Simon. "Wha? You saved my life." He would still have technically been alive if the tree had finished with him, but it really wasn't the same thing.

"Yeah, but we failed the test!" said Mark. He stared at the ground. "We used violence..."

"I still say he was gonna say puns," Bobby muttered.

"Then how come yours didn't work?" said Ralph. He hit the tree again for good measure."

"Because they weren't good enough," said Bobby, like they'd already had this conversation. "If you guys had listened to me, we'd be going home with an A plus plus!"

"It wasn't a test!" said Simon. Even if it had been, it wouldn't have involved puns. "I was really..." Maybe this had been a bad idea. Maybe he'd just been having so much fun being a teacher to for a while that he hadn't thought about what the kids were really learning. Not everything was a scam, no matter how much it helped to pretend it was. "Listen. This whole time... I haven't been teaching you to con nature. We've just been camping."

He was probably making a mistake, telling them this early. It was going to undo everything he'd taught them. He should have waited longer to tell them the truth. He...

He was lying to a group of children who looked up to him, for selfish reasons that he was covering up by claiming that he was teaching them things. He was the worst person in the world.

The kids hadn't said anything yet. They just looked shocked. Simon didn't know if they'd ever forgive him, or if he even deserved forgiveness.

"Wow!" said Ralph eventually. "You conned us again!"

"You really are the master!" said Madison.

"No!" said Simon. "I'm the worst!" They were right, though. He had definitely scammed them. They didn't seem to mind, which made him feel a little better, but it probably just hadn't sunk in yet. "See?" he added, trying to sound self-assured. "You don't have to scam people to have fun. You're all smart, curious kids, and I think if you stopped trying to trick people, you wouldn't have to. Uh, trick them, because they'd just start giving you stuff all on their own."

The kids looked at him blankly.

"I can't wait to find out where he's going with this," Mark said to Bobby.

"I mean it," said Simon, but he didn't press the issue. They'd get out of the con artist habit sooner or later. Maybe it was asking too much for it to happen in an afternoon.

 

Simon waited for Marceline by the schoolhouse, rubbing his eyes. He'd got a little sleep last night, but mostly he'd been wide awake and hating himself. He'd eventually concluded that tricking some kids into going camping wasn't really equivalent to tricking a kid into committing burglary, but it was still a bit sketchy.

Sometimes he wondered if he'd ever stop obsessing over stupid things from his childhood. Hadn't it been long enough by now?

Marceline arrived, yawning. It looked like snow again today, but she had a parasol to block out any sun that did decide to come out. "Morning Simon. Wow, you look how I feel. Were the kids that hard to handle?"

Simon shook his head and indicated the schoolhouse, which he'd opened up at the kids' request, although it was summer. "Take a look through the window."

Marceline did. "Wow. Is that Ralph reading a book?"

Simon looked into the window as well. Ralph looked smug, but he was definitely reading. Madison was building a circuit, something Simon definitely didn't remember teaching her. Bobby was nearby, balancing chemical equations on the blackboard.

The only kid who might not have been doing something educational was Mark. He was mousing around on a computer, but they couldn't see what was on the screen from this angle. He'd been looking up academic journals when Simon had left. Maybe he still was, but even if he'd figured out how to get onto Football's well-meaning infinite games archive, three out of four was still pretty good.

"They think they're playing the long con," said Simon. "Uh... at least they're learning."

Marceline moved away from the window. "How could they possibly think learning things is a scam?"

They'd explained things to Simon when they'd asked to be let into the schoolhouse. "Okay, the scam is that all the grownups think they're doing it because they've turned over a new leaf. When actually, they're really doing it because it's interesting." They'd asked him for feedback. He'd told them that a con you ended up learning something from was never wasted, which was true, apart from the con part.

Marceline laughed. "Simon, you're a miracle worker. That reminds me, I think you need to talk to Gunter."

"Sure," said Simon. "What's the matter with him?"

Marceline pointed at the edge of the spooky woods, where Gunter was standing and staring at a rock in his flippers. "I think his philosophy bones got a little bent out of shape again."

"Simon!" said Gunter, when they approached. "I've done it-- I have figured it out. Listen to this! There's no difference between good things and bad things! Everything's relative!"

"No it's not," said Simon. "Good things is reducing the amount of pain in the world and bad things is increasing it." Gunter could be as impressionable as wet clay sometimes, no matter how much he tried to deny it.

Gunter looked at the rock again. "Oh yeah..."

Chapter Text

Year of the Sky Witch
September

Simon came to the bank of a river in a burning forest. The smoke was so thick that he could barely see in front of his face, but he could feel the heat, and hear the crackling of the flames. Ash rained continually from the sky and settled onto his hair and clothes. The only visible signs of the fire were some glowing patches on the closest tree and a few blurry points of light further through the smoke, but Simon knew the situation was serious.

A comet emerged from the trees, nudged him, and flew away downriver, its tail flowing out behind it like a tadpole's.

"Huh," said Simon. "It's that catalyst comet again. That's weird. I guess I'm still psychically drawn to it." A couple of weeks ago it had pulled his soul into the astral plane, and all the way to Mars, so that made sense.

Things had been getting really metaphysical lately. Maybe Simon was the agent of change that the comet was supposed to herald? Probably not, he'd been here for sixteen years already, and the only special or unique thing about him was his species. But why were they so connected?

"You know, comets don't work like that," said a calm voice from behind the tree. It sounded like his own voice. Not the way his voice sounded on recordings, but the way his voice sounded to him. His mental voice.

Simon stepped carefully around the tree to find a baby. The baby was cowering on the ground with his hands over his head, and he looked a lot like Simon.

"Found you," said Simon, and scooped up his baby self before the flames could reach them. "C'mon, we better follow that comet."

The comet wasn't difficult to track, even through all the smoke. It was bright and blue, and it seemed to be following the river. Finding a clear path was harder, but as long as Simon balanced on the very edge of the bank, he could move forward without brushing up against the trees much.

"Comet tails don't really point away from the direction of motion," said baby Simon, like he was teaching Simon an interesting fact. "They actually point away from the sun."

"It's a dream," said Simon. And he had a feeling catalyst comets didn't work like normal ones anyway.

"I'm still here," baby Simon said. "Don't drop me."

"I'll try," said Simon. He was glad things were finally beginning to make sense.

Just then, the smoke cleared, and they emerged onto a dark beach. The comet flew upwards, then plunged into the ocean, sinking underneath with barely a ripple. There was an explosion, and a bright flash of light. The comet had arrived.

"Oh," said Simon. "Now what are we supposed to do?"

"Wake up, we're here," said baby Simon.

Simon looked around. The forest was still behind them, but it seemed to have extinguished itself. "Are you sure?"

"I'm always sure," said baby Simon.

"I don't know h--" Simon began, and woke up.

He was so dry. His skin was chapped, and his mouth was a desert. He was standing up, his muscles ached, and he was nowhere near home and his bed. He was near a beach, although it wasn't the same one as in his dream. It looked like he was somewhere on the outskirts of the ventlands, in the south of Uuu.

He'd been sleepwalking. Maybe for days. His subconscious was trying to tell him something, maybe about his infancy. Maybe about when... No, it wasn't a memory. It was too surreal. Even without the comet and being in two places at once, forest fires were much hotter than that, and they didn't usually sound like fireplaces.

Besides, whatever had happened to him before his parents had found him, it was something to do with lava, wasn't it? Otherwise why would floating in a volcano have made Billy appear in the sky and tell him about his mom?

Now that he thought about it, that connection probably wasn't as clear-cut as it had seemed at the time.

Up ahead was a small beachside town, dominated by the smoking wreck of a boxy spaceship. Simon wondered for a second if the comet had knocked it out of the sky, before realising that there'd probably been no comet, and that the ship had been the impact he'd felt. Which meant his dream made even less sense than he'd thought.

Simon stopped walking, noticed how exhausted and dizzy he was, and dug through his bag for some water. He didn't have any. He didn't have any food, either. Whatever force had made him sleepwalk out here hadn't bothered to make him sleeppack first.

"Hey," said a voice.

Simon looked up to see a vulture gliding above him, looking down at him with a hopeful expression.

"Hey, why don't you lie down and give up?" said the vulture. "I've been following you for two whole days-- do me a solid, would you?"

"Heh, no," said Simon. That would be a really stupid way to die. "I'm gonna check out that town down there."

"Aw, come on!" said the vulture, without coming any closer. "Be nice!"

Vultures were no danger to the living, so Simon ignored him.

The village was small in number of buildings, and even smaller in building size. It didn't seem to be doing very well at the moment, either. It was fall, but the outlying fields looked like they'd only been tilled recently. There was a dock with a lot of fishing boats, but it was the middle of the day, and there were none out on the ocean. The only sign of prosperity was a larger, apparently solar-powered boat, which was also docked.

Simon spotted a well and stumbled towards it. He dunked the bucket in, grabbed it with both hands, and gulped the water down until he felt slightly more alive.

He realised two things at the same time. Someone probably owned that well, and he needed to at least pay them for the water. And there was nobody around. It wasn't just the boats. The town was completely deserted. Simon narrowed his eyes and looked at the spaceship. What was it, an alien invasion? Had something horrible happened to whoever normally lived in this town? Simon had never dealt with aliens before, except for the normal Martian kind. Oh yeah, and the ones from the Citadel.

He hoped the escaped prisoners from the Citadel hadn't decided to invade. From what Prismo had said, they'd been locked up for very good reasons. Sometimes he wondered if his mom was safe with them, although O'Malley had obviously survived. Most of the time, he tried not to think about it.

Simon took out his nunchucks and crept close to the spaceship. There was a whole section of hull that had been ripped away on the side facing the ocean, and now that he was closer, he could faintly hear talking. It sounded like a crowd.

He pressed himself against the wall, edged towards the hole in the hull, and peeked around.

As he did, someone clearly said "Hey, hey, we need to put this to a vote. Everyone who thinks we should plant corn, raise your hands."

Simon jerked backwards before he could take anything in. That was his mom-- That was Petra. Wasn't it? Or was he imagining things? He had just been thinking about her. Again.

"Okay. Everyone who thinks we should plant potatoes, raise your hands."

It sounded exactly like her. But Simon had only met her once. Or more than once, probably, but only once that he remembered. He steeled himself, and stepped inside.

It looked like a meeting. There was a crowd of small, white people, all facing away from him. Some of them had their arm stubs raised, but not as many as Simon would have hoped if they were voting on whether to plant potatoes. It was a little late in the season for potatoes, but it was late for corn too, and potatoes were much better.

Potatoes weren't the important thing here, but Simon greatly preferred thinking about them over moving his eyes towards the podium on the other side of the room, where all the villagers were looking. He'd caught a glimpse of a humanoid in blue. She was wearing something on her head, and her skin was the same colour as his. Maybe if he didn't look directly at her, it wouldn't be who he thought it was.

"Okay. Everyone who thinks we should pla... Oh, h-hey, kiddo!"

Simon noticed that he'd forgotten to find somewhere to hide, and was standing frozen in the entranceway, completely exposed.

The crowd turned to stare at him.

"Hhhh," said Simon. He'd meant to say that he hoped he wasn't interrupting anything important, but he'd forgotten how mouths worked. He steeled himself, and entered the room, looking straight at his mother. It was definitely her. She was just standing there, in this room, in Uuu, like everything was totally normal and reasonable and okay.

Petra gave him a nervous smile. "Great to see you again. You're looking very... uh, alive."

Simon walked stiffly up to the podium. "Y.... You didn't seem too upset about that when you ripped out my flipping heart!" Good, his voice was working again. He probably shouldn't be making accusations like that in front of a whole village of strangers, but they deserved to know the kind of person they were dealing with.

Petra smiled again. "You got a flair for the dramatic, huh?"

"What-- no!" said Simon. Did she think it was a figure of speech? He hadn't been that upset. Well, maybe a little. "I mean, you literally ripped my heart out of my chest! Didn't you see all the blood?" He glanced down, and clutched his chest self-consciously. "Uh, but it-- it grew back."

"In that case, I better get back to the meeting," said Petra. "I'm helping these fine people--" She indicated the villagers-- "transition to a more prosperous economic model."

"We're helping her build a boat," said a villager. "She said she had to pay us back somehow."

"I'm gonna take a nice round the world cruise," said Petra.

Simon frowned. "To look for other humans?" So she'd just got here, and she was leaving again. He wasn't surprised. Really.

"What?" said Petra. "No! There's more to the world than just humans, kiddo. Hey, wanna help me out here? You like helping people, right?"

"How do you know that?" said Simon. She was right, though. He did want to help the villagers, especially with some kind of criminal here claiming she had their best interests at heart. Isolated towns like this could be really vulnerable. "Okay, fine, I'll help."

"Great!" said Petra. "Lemme introduce you. Simon, these are the villagers. Villagers, this is Simon Petrikov, my son."

"Hi!" said a red-nosed villager in the front row.

"Salutations," said a green-nosed villager towards the back.

"I thought his name was Simon the Human," said a purple-nosed villager on the edge of the crowd.

Simon barely heard any of them. Had she really just called him... She'd stopped denying it? She hadn't asked him if she could change up her lies before she'd announced them to everyone. And that surname? Was it hers? Was it his? Did he have a human name? As well as a normal name? How many names did he have?

"Okay," Petra continued, "I'm thinking we can phase out boats entirely, since you're not gonna need seafood anymore, and you blue nose guys can swim really well. That should save you--"

Simon finally found his voice again. "Petro... Petrikov." It sounded weird on his lips. "Is that a matronymic?" Did it mean "Petra's son"? It sounded Russian or something, and Simon had never even considered that his ancestors might be from that part of the world. That was what happened when all your reference materials were a thousand years out of date.

Petra scowled for a second. "If only. My parents thought they were real funny."

"Your parents?" said Simon. "You're my parents, a-and you stopped lying about it!" He imagined a line of ancestors stretching back to the dawn of humanity, or even further, to the dawn of time. For the first time, he felt like there was something connected his life to the rest of the world.

"Focus, kiddo," said Petra impatiently. "We have a job to do."

Simon hesitated, then nodded. He could ask her everything later, when they weren't in front of a murmuring crowd who probably just wanted to get on with their meeting.

Assuming she didn't change her mind and run away again before he got the chance.

 

Simon bit his tongue for the rest of the meeting. Trying to focus on last minute crop planting while he had so many questions was like trying to add a hundred numbers together without making a single mistake. But he did his best, for the sake of the villagers who had nothing to do with this mess.

By the end of the meeting, they'd drawn up some professional-looking documents about planting schedules and harvesting duties, and even some tentative trade plans. Simon had to agree that farming would give the villagers more leisure time, and more opportunity to specialise, but he couldn't help feeling uneasy, like he was missing something.

"Hey," he said to one of the villagers, who had a yellow nose. "What are you guys gonna eat while the crops grow in, if you can't fish?"

The villager shrugged. "It's gonna be a little tight." He glanced at Petra, who was deep in conversation with the head of the fisherfolk's union. "We just wanna let her do something nice for us, cause she thinks she owes us."

"Uh, doesn't she?" said Simon.

"We just wanna help out," said the villager. "Doing something nice for someone is its own reward, don't you think?"

Simon often felt that way, so he thought he understood. At least they didn't think she was some kind of saviour.

 

That evening, the villagers held a seafood feast to thank Petra for all her help. It seemed a little short-sighted to Simon, but they'd assured him that it would probably all work out.

The food was good. Not Ocean Kingdom-level good, but tasty and varied. Or maybe Simon was just hungry. He hadn't eaten for days, probably. He hoped his dream had lasted for less than a week, because he'd read that eating too much could be fatal if you'd stopped for that long.

He was determined to stick around until Petra left and he was sure the villagers would be okay. Getting some answers would be nice as well, but he was mostly concerned about the village. If they were this helpful, they must have done this before, but...

His mind had begun to clear at last. It was time to get started. He glanced across the table at Petra, who was toying with an empty oyster shell.

"Hey, Petra," he said carefully. "If I'm really your son, why didn't you say so at the Citadel?" She wasn't busy now. There was nothing else she could say that would deter him.

Petra dropped the shell, and sighed. "Listen, Simon, I swear I was telling the truth back then. I just... kept some things back. I had my reasons for playing dumb."

"You lied to me," said Simon. He felt sick. He'd been holding out hope that she really hadn't realised who he was, despite him repeatedly telling her. Maybe she'd been under some kind of enchantment. But no. She was just a liar.

"Hey, I meant what I said!" said Petra.

Simon had gone over her exact words many times since he'd got his memory back. Maybe too many times. "Yeah, you said you don't remember remember having a son. You didn't say you didn't have a son." Lying by omission was still lying.

Petra grinned. "Yeah, that's it! Mal picked up on that too."

And she'd picked up the trick of acting proud of him at inappropriate moments, apparently. "You had amnesia," said Simon. He'd considered a lot of possibilities, and that was the most likely. "But you didn't forget you had a son!" He was trying not to raise his voice or get upset, but it was difficult.

"I still have amnesia," Petra corrected him. "I just remembered a couple things since then. And yeah, I put two and two together and figured I'd had a kid and forgotten about it. Sorry."

Simon folded his arms. He knew a lot about apologising, and she wasn't even trying to sound sincere.

"Really!" said Petra. "I'm sorry. I just... I put a lot of effort into forgetting. I didn't need reminders... following me around. Asking questions."

Simon swallowed. "Having a kid hurt that much, huh?" He'd told himself that he didn't care whether his human mother wanted him or not, because the parents he'd grown up with had been loving enough for any lonely human orphan. But he did care.

"You got it backwards, kiddo," Petra mumbled, so quietly that Simon suspected she hadn't meant for him to hear it. More loudly, she said "You ever heard of a mental vault? You gotta build them yourself. It's hard. They're fragile. Reminders can make the whole thing collapse."

"Finn has a vault..." said Simon. If Finn's vault was a fragile, self-induced thing, he'd never mentioned it. He just seemed to be really good at forgetting things. Sometimes Simon envied him. "Alternate Universe Finn," he corrected himself. "I mean, I guess the Finn in this universe has one too, but his mind is all clouded with magic junk, and--"

"You have a friend from an alternate universe?" said Petra. She sounded genuinely surprised.

"I don't know many humans in this universe, okay?" said Simon. Maybe he'd know more if she hadn't abandoned him somewhere where humans had gone extinct.

"At least you're meeting other humans," Petra murmured. She stood. "Come on, let's take a tour of this place. Maybe you'll get some inspiration."

"Uh, for what?" said Simon, but he stood as well. It was getting difficult to sit still. He was on the edge of finally maybe getting some answers. She'd already sort of explained why she'd done what she had at the Citadel, even if her reasoning was really, really stupid.

"Look," said Petra, as they walked past tiny houses and tinier vet clinics. "If you're that messed up over it, I am sorry I left you. But the truth is, you dodged a bullet. You're not gonna like what you find if you keep digging."

"Can you at least tell me why you left?" said Simon. He already didn't like what he was finding, but it was better than not knowing. In his experience, knowing something was always better than not knowing it, even when the truth was horrible.

"I don't remember," said Petra quickly, then sighed. "Okay, it's coming back to me. I didn't leave you behind on purpose. I mean, probably." She looked up at the sky, and wrinkled her nose. "It was something to do with... smoke?"

That sounded like it might even be true. "Huh," said Simon. "I'm afraid of fire..." He could handle being around it better since he'd taken that volcano bath, but fire still made him nervous. It could kill him if he wasn't careful. He knew that very well.

"Afraid, huh?" said Petra, not very sympathetically. "How afraid?" Without waiting for Simon to respond, she added "There's only one way to find out!", pulled some kind of blunt laser gun out of her belt, and pointed it at him.

Simon jerked back. "Hey! What is that?" Whatever it was, just being near it made his skull tingle, like it was doing something to his brain. He'd never liked the idea of someone messing with his mind. Since he'd learned about the Ice King, he'd hated it.

"It's just a scan, calm down," said Petra. She inspected the back of the scanner gun, stroking it with a finger like she was scrolling through a list. "Huh. You're a mess, Simon. I'm seeing a lot of cerebral scarring here."

Bonnibel had never said anything about scars on his brain, and Simon trusted her opinion more than he trusted Petra's. "I'm a mess?" He didn't disagree, but that didn't mean she could say it. She didn't even know him.

"Maybe you weren't better off..." Petra murmured. Simon slowed down to try to see what she was looking at, but she covered the screen with her hand. "Congenital, congenital... Oh, lucky you!"

"What?" said Simon. "What are you talking about? Let me see that!" If something was congenital, it meant it was inborn, like a birth defect. How detailed was that scan? Was his entire brain represented on that gun? She wasn't letting him see the screen, and he didn't want to snatch it out of her hands unless he had to. That was rude.

Petra read some more to herself, frowned, started to say something, and then widened her eyes. "Hey. Hey. When I leave, wanna come with me?"

"W-what?" said Simon. "Why?" If she was trying to keep him off-balance, it was working.

"I just remembered something," said Petra. She grinned and put her gun away. "If you come along, I'll tell you what it was."

Simon stopped walking. "What? Like... forever?"

Petra didn't stop, but she looked at him over her shoulder. "A while. Come on, you might like it outside of Uuu." She adopted a sing-song tone. "I'll answer all your questions..."

She was walking towards the dock. Did she want to leave now? Tonight? Simon ran after her.

"I have to protect Uuu," said Simon, when he'd caught up. "I can't just leave!" But even after everything she'd done, the offer was tempting, and he hated himself for it. "How do I know you're not just gonna run away again?"

Petra looked uncomfortable. "I was hasty, okay? I didn't wanna remember... losing you." She sounded almost sincere, until she ruined it by adding "Come on, it was months ago!"

"What about Gunter?" said Simon. He didn't think he wanted to leave Uuu at all, at least not like this, but he definitely didn't want to leave without his brother.

Petra considered, then said "Let's just make it a family thing, okay?" She sat on the end of the dock, in front of the big boat Simon had seen earlier.

Simon sat next to her. "He's my brother!" He was more family than she was.

Petra looked taken back. "Seriously? Mal said the same thing, but I figured he was pulling my leg."

"Yes!" said Simon. Did she not understand how adoption worked? He had a family already, and they didn't need to be in the same taxonomic class to be his family.

"But he's a mutant!" said Petra, lowering her voice halfway through like she was afraid of being overheard.

"He's magic," said Simon. Calling him a mutant made him sound like a monster from one of those wildly inaccurate pre-war novels about the apocalypse.

"Same thing," said Petra. "Magically mutated." There were a couple of villagers walking hand in hand nearby, and she waited for them to pass out of earshot, then lowered her voice further. "This place is crawling with mutants. Weird monsters, barely human... things, talking animals..."

Petra's definition of mutant seemed to include everybody in Uuu. "But you're helping them," said Simon. "And what about O'Malley-- Aren't you friends with him?" He would have preferred it if she hadn't been, but what she was saying didn't gel with her actions at all.

Petra sighed. "Simon, there's a difference trading with mutants, and thinking you're one of them. And Mal-- He's a jerk, but he's pretty sharp for a dog. His human side is dominant for sure."

If this was what it was like to be human, Simon preferred to think of himself as a "mutant". "Petra-- He doesn't even have a human side! Talking animals didn't come from humans!" There were a lot of people that were directly related to humans, but the various groups of talking animals had just suddenly started wearing clothes and having opposable thumbs all of a sudden, without any human ancestry at all.

Petra kicked her legs against the side of the dock. "Even heard of lateral sapience transfer?"

"Yeah," said Simon, "but that's just a theory." And a pretty obscure one. The accepted explanation was that sapience was just what happened when the background magic got high enough.

"Maybe around here," said Petra. "Listen. I'll take you to the humans-- our people. Don't you want that?"

"So they are across the ocean..." said Simon. That was what he'd thought growing up, but being around Petra had given him the impression that she was actually from space. Maybe the humans lived across the ocean in a place with a space program.

"Not necessarily," said Petra. She thumped the boat. "It's a versatile ship."

Simon stood up. "Why can't you just give me a straight answer?" He wanted to scream at her, but he didn't think it would help.

Petra stayed seated. "I get why you're upset, but I can't tell you anything else until we're at sea."

"Why not?" Why would she tell him to stop "digging", and then turn around and hold the things he wanted to know for ransom? She was so disgustingly manipulative.

Not that that was a surprise. She was related to Simon, after all.

"Okay, I'll tell you one thing," said Petra. She held up a finger. "Just one. Consider it a freebie."

"I am not paying fo--"

"I'm beginning to remember what it was like when you were born," Petra interrupted. "You do wanna hear about that, right?"

"Y-- I-- Of course I wanna!" Simon yelled. He sat back down. He knew he was about to be disappointed, but he still wanted to hear what she had to say. Just in case.

"You were born on a volcano," said Petra. "Or... in an old steel mill. Uh, maybe it was a steel mill on a volcano. I don't remember. There was magma, and lava, and hot stuff, and... something about eagles. Hey, maybe that's why you're scared of fire!"

Simon bit his tongue before he could note that he'd never been scared of eagles. If he said anything, she might use it as an reason to change the subject.

Petra hesitated for a second, then said "Uh... You kept wandering off when my back was turned. But that's not how we got separated. Probably. We didn't have any picture books, but you liked it when I read to you out of technical manuals. That's it."

"That's it?" said Simon. All he'd learned was that he'd probably spent his infancy somewhere hot. His penguin family could have told him the rest, and had. "But where did you come from? Why did you come to Uuu? Hey, are you from Uuu? Were you even in Uuu when I was born? What about..." He had to say it. He'd been trying to put it out of his mind, out of fear of... He didn't even know. Maybe he thought he was pushing his luck. But it usually took two humans to make a baby. "What about my dad?"

Petra stiffened. "That information is restricted. You have reached the end of your free trial. To continue, please--"

"You got no reason not to tell me," Simon interrupted. "This is kinda important!" It sounded like something bad had happened with Simon's other parent, and Petra obviously didn't want to talk about it, but she'd lost her not-wanting-to-talk-about it privileges when she'd repressed her son's entire existence.

Petra took a breath, and let it out slowly. "That wasn't the deal, kiddo. I can't tell you anything else until we're out of Uuu."

"You won't tell me, because you're trying to bribe me!" said Simon. "I'm not an idiot, okay? What did you remember? Why is it so important all of a sudden?" Something told him to be grateful that she wanted him around at all, but he ignored it. His inner voices were usually wrong anyway.

"I feel bad," said Petra lightly. "I wanna make it up to you. Look at you-- There's so much you don't know!"

Simon knew a lot. Maybe he didn't know why his parents had had a baby in Uuu and then abandoned it, but he didn't like being treated like he was naive. He was sixteen, not six.

"Uuu is your home," said Petra, and took a breath to say something else.

Simon interrupted her. "Yeah. It is." At least she understood that much.

"And I know leaving home can be hard," said Petra loudly. "But humans aren't meant to be alone. Listen, look at it this way. You can either live in ignorance with the mutants, or you can come with me, and learn the truth."

Simon stood up. "You don't care how I live, Petra."

"Sure I do!" said Petra.

At the same time, Simon said "And by the way, I'm just fine living in ignorance with the mutants. They're my friends, and they don't have to pretend to care about me!"

"Hey, slow down, kiddo," said Petra.

"I don't know what you really want from me, and you know what? I don't want to know," Simon lied. "If you're not gonna be straight with me, I'm not gonna help you! You never did nothing for me! You were never even around!" He was being unfair now, but he didn't care. "And you think insulting my friends and my family is gonna make me like you more? I've met people who try to pull that "I'm the only one you can trust" bullhonky, and they're never the good guys. I don't know if you noticed, but I fight the bad guys. I don't make deals with them."

Petra waited a few seconds, then said "So... you'll sleep on it?"

Simon yelled in frustration, turned, and stomped away. He doubted there were any beds his size in this village, but he knew he'd be comfortable anywhere she wasn't.

 

Simon woke up because someone tiny was trying to shake him by the arm. He sat up, and a couple of blades of grass fell off his face. He was even sorer than he'd been yesterday, and he hoped nothing action-packed happened today.

He couldn't remember falling asleep. He'd thought he'd be awake all night, wondering if he'd said the right thing and if Petra had really been telling the truth. Maybe the thing she'd remembered was that she really did love him, and that she cared about what happened to him. That hadn't occurred to him at the time, but it had occurred to him over and over while curled up on the hard ground, trying to sleep.

The villager who'd been shaking him jumped onto Simon's shoulder. "Hey, I'm hungry. What time do the crops grow in?"

"What time?" said Simon. "Uh..." He rubbed his face. The ground was uncomfortable, and he didn't have a blanket, and yet all he wanted was to go back to sleep. "What do you mean, what time?"

"Is it gonna be in time for breakfast?" said the villager. She rubbed her stomach, which seemed wider than the night before. "I'm getting hungry."

"Don't you have any other food-- Was that all your food yesterday?!" Simon had eaten so much of that food himself. He'd been starving, but that was no excuse.

"Yeah, because we have crops now," said the villager. "We don't need all that old seafood."

"I-It takes months to grow crops," said Simon. "Didn't she tell you that?" Had Petra just destroyed an entire town? Or they'd destroyed themselves, because they were in control of how their town developed. But they'd still have food if Petra hadn't crashed here and tried to "help". And it wasn't their fault if they'd trusted her.

The villager shrugged. "I can't remember. I was thinking about video games."

"I'm gonna go sort this out," Simon said.

He stood up and looked back at the docks, shielding his eyes against the rising sun. The boat was still there. She hadn't left yet. That was good. He'd get another chance to yell at her.

He ran for the boat.

"Good morning, sleepyhead!" Petra called from the deck.

Simon stopped on the dock and looked up at her. "They're out of food!"

"Who, the villagers?" said Petra. She looked concerned for a second, but she replaced it with a smile. "Ah, but they changed something. Isn't that enough?"

"No!" Simon yelled. "Because they have no food!" He wasn't certain if the one villager he'd spoken to had all the facts about the food situation, but the fact Petra didn't seem worried was enough to sustain his anger.

"All I'm hearing is that they finally broke out of their musty old seafood traditions," said Petra. "Rules are made to be broken, you know! They'll be fine."

Rules were not made to be broken. They were made for a lot of reasons, and not all of them were good ones, but there was no point making a rule just for it to be broken. Simon frowned as he tried to figure out the best way to explain how much he disagreed with her life philosophy. He'd just settled on asking if she was going to erase her memory of this as well when she spoke again.

"Are you coming, or not?" Her voice was perfectly casual. So was her face. She was leaning so far over the rail it looked like she was going to overbalance, but Simon didn't know her well enough to tell if that meant anything or not.

"Goodbye, mom," said Simon. He turned to go, and the writing on the boat caught his eye, tempting him to look back. That hadn't been there last night. It looked like a name. What if she'd named the boat after something that really mattered to her, like her partner or her homeland? What if she'd named it after him? Would that be enough to change his mind?

It wouldn't. Nothing would be enough.

"Simon, please," said Petra. She sounded sincere now. "It would mean a lot-- everything to me."

"Have a bon voyage," said Simon, without turning around. He walked away.

The villager on his shoulder shielded her eyes and looked back. "Hey, she's still there. I don't think she's gonna leave for a while. You don't have to say goodbye yet."

"I know," said Simon. "Uh, okay, we're gonna need to do something about the food situation, but I think I..."

He already regretted his decision, but you couldn't do everything she'd done and still expect trust and forgiveness. If he'd left with her, he would have regretted it even more. He still didn't know if she'd abandoned him on purpose, but even if she hadn't, she'd already more than proved that she didn't deserve a son.

"You think what?" said the villager.

"Uh..." Simon tried to recapture his train of thought. He could obsess later. He had hero stuff to take care of. "I think I know where we are, and there's a couple towns we can trade with to keep all you guys fed if it comes to that-- Do you have a town hall?"

The villager glanced at the sky. "We did until the the spaceship crushed it."

"Okay, let's gather everyone in the spaceship," said Simon. Even if the villager was mistaken, and he didn't think she was, it would be good to make sure everyone was on the same page. "It might be tough for a while, but I think you can bounce back."

Chapter Text

The Year of the Dog
June

 

It seemed like there was nothing in the cave but a disappointing pile of boulders, until Gunter discovered a gap in the rocks just big enough for him and Simon to squeeze through. They'd been up since dawn exploring uncharted tunnels, and all they'd found were dead ends, empty except for maybe a skeleton or two. But Simon had a good feeling about this one. He was sure he could feel a breeze coming from up ahead.

"Hey, Gunter," said Simon, who was walking in a stoop to keep from banging his head on the roof of the tunnel. "Did you know this area has been used to hide artefacts of power since questing records began?" Questing records didn't go back very far, but not many places had been so consistent for so long.

"Oh yeah?" Gunter didn't sound like he had many more tunnels in him after this. "Is that why there's all this loot in them?"

"Yeah!" said Simon. "There are tiny passageways and caves all through these mountains. Perfect loot hidey holes."

Gunter stifled a yawn. "And... And what about the owners? Don't they ever come back?"

"Uh..." said Simon. He'd never thought about that. "Huh." Why had he never thought about that? "Could be that the loot guardi--" They turned a corner, and the tunnel opened up into an underground chamber. "Hello! I knew there was something down here!"

The cave was so tall that the ceiling receded into darkness, and there were stalagmites growing from the floor as big as the tree fort. Right in front of them, there was a stepped platform with a sculpture of a lamb at its top.

They'd finally found some treasure.

"And just when I was thinking about going home, too," said Gunter.

Simon approached the platform on tiptoe, keeping a lookout for loot guardians. "What do you think it is?" The lamb was pale grey all over, and looked like it was made out of something smooth and shiny, like porcelain. It had a nose, a mouth, and a single glowing, red jewel in place of eyes. It was creepy, out of place, and almost definitely magical.

"Hmm..." said Gunter. "Dunno. But, you know, it'll make a nice centrepiece for the dinner table." He hung back. "Er... Do you think we should touch it, though? It's a bit... a bit iconoclastic, don't you think?"

Simon stopped walking, and stared up at the lamb. There was definitely something unnerving about its eyeless face. He couldn't see anything unambiguously dangerous about it, but adventurers weren't supposed to ignore gut feelings like this. "Yeah, you're right." He considered explaining what iconoclasm actually meant, and decided against it for now. He got Gunter's drift. "Don't wanna upset the lamb globs."

He was still going to take it, though. Simon took a jacket from his bag and climbed the steps, muttering theories to himself. "Lambs... Lambs represent purity and innocence. Might be a rite of--" He stepped on one of his jacket sleeves, stumbled forwards, and tripped over the final step. "Wowsers!" He threw out his hands to catch himself, and brushed the lamb with the tips of his fingers.

There was a blinding flash of light, and Simon fell forward for what felt like far too long. Then he was on his back, at the bottom of the pedestal. All around him, strange creatures started chittering, and there was an unpleasant, organic smell he couldn't identify.

What had he unleashed?

For a second, Simon just stared at the ceiling. The light had got really red all of a sudden, and there were bright objects darting in and out of his field of vision. He was a little scared of what he'd see once they came into focus.

"Simon?" Gunter was yelling from the top of the pedestal. "Simon! What happened?"

Simon sat up. "It's okay, Gunter. I just tripped." His pride was hurt, and also his knees, but he was fine. "I-- whoa mama!" He'd recovered enough to comprehend what he was seeing. The cave was filled with brightly coloured monsters, in every possible shape. There were snake-like monsters, humanoids, completely round things, and monsters that looked like they'd been designed out of the rejected part of other monsters. Most of them were a single, bright colour, and all of them were semi-transparent and glowing.

Simon felt a horrible, slimy sensation on his hand, and looked down to see a little purple one-leg thing with an hourglass figure climbing up it. He jumped up and shook his hand violently, throwing it off. He'd been hoping for a second that all this was in his head, but apparently not.

Gunter was beginning to sound panicky. "Simon! Where-- Where did you go? Yell out--" He gasped, picked up Simon's jacket, and began to wrap the lamb in it.

"Gunter?" Simon climbed back up the stairs, weaving to avoid the monsters. "Are you messing with me? Tell me you see this stuff too. Tell me-- Aah!"

The lamb's face had changed. Now it had Simon's face, with his eyes closed like he was asleep. Simon looked away from it.

Gunter finished wrapping up the lamb, and turned to face Simon without seeming to see him. He sighed, looked down at the lamb, and said "You used to trip all the time."

"No I didn't!" said Simon, although it was obvious that Gunter couldn't hear him. He'd just been distracted, that was all. He would have been fine if there hadn't been a step in the way. "Come on, Gunts. Look at me."

Gunter headed back to the entrance of the cave, walking through some of the monsters on the way. Simon went to touch him on the flipper, and his hand went through him.

"O... kay," said Simon. "I'm invisible and incorporeal. And these weird monsters... Maybe..." He didn't want to say it out loud, but maybe he hadn't unleashed the monsters by touching the lamb, like he'd first assumed. Gunter obviously couldn't see or feel them, so who was to say they hadn't been there the entire time? Maybe they were all that was left of the last people to touched the lamb. Maybe... Maybe if he kept thinking like this he'd start screaming and never stop.

Simon took a deep breath, and followed Gunter out of the cave, back to the tunnel. He didn't have to duck this time. He just passed through the rock, in total darkness. He almost wished he could control this ability, although not very hard. The Good Dungeons Guide generally discouraged phasing when there were other options available.

Maybe it was a distance thing, and he'd pop back into reality when he got far enough away from the lamb. Or maybe his proximity to the lamb was all that was keeping him alive and psychically coherent. He had no idea what was going on, and until he got some clue, experimenting was too dangerous.

Outside the cave, the air was filled with monsters. There was a small round flying thing with human fingers extending from it in all directions, a houseplant-shaped monster that dripped slime from its branches instead of having leaves, and a huge creature that looked a bit like a quilt cover blocking out the entire southern sky.

"Oh... Oh, dang." Simon probably hadn't unleashed the monsters, and they weren't only confined to the cave. Why hadn't anybody warned him about this? He vaguely remembered reading a few papers on the subject, but they hadn't seem particularly likely at the time. Something about magical subfrequencies of existence or something? He couldn't remember.

"I gotta remember," he said aloud. "It could be really important. Maybe it was chakra-based..." Speaking aloud helped get his thoughts in order even better than writing them down did, and it wasn't like anyone could hear him right now. He might as well take advantage of it.

By the time they got back to the tree fort, all Simon had managed to remember was that there were multiple planes of existence, and that it was possible to travel between them somehow. Nothing very useful to his situation.

While Gunter tried to explain what had happened to Football, Simon climbed up to his room and searched his book piles for anything that even remotely resembled something that might help him.

"Not here... Where is it? Oh, here we go!" Simon reached for a book titled "Meditations on the Irrational Planes". His hand went through it. "Aw, come on! I can't even study?" He raised his voice, although he knew it was pointless. "Gunter! I think this book is important! You gotta come read it for me! I don't think it has a glossary, but if you keep the Emanationist's Companion nearby, all of the jargonicised words should be in there!"

As long as he couldn't see Gunter ignoring him, Simon could pretend that he that he had heard, and was just taking his time to respond.

Actually, no. That didn't work at all. He was alone, and he knew it, no matter how much he pretended otherwise. Simon sank down onto the edge of his bed and put his head in his hands.

There was a slimy tickle on the back of his neck. He slapped at it, but it didn't stop. Simon looked around to see his bed... moving? No, it wasn't moving. It was covered with a layer of tentacle starfish, in all colours, wriggling around and crawling over each other. Every so often, one would fall off with a wet splat, and starting shimmying its way back up one of the legs.

"Ugh!" Simon jumped back and halfway across the room, rubbing his torso frantically with both hands. Was his bed always like this? He slept there. He slept there almost every night. "I can't stay like this. I gotta figure out a way..."

A line of Gunter clones came upstairs, and Simon trailed off. Each of them marched through Simon, opened his wardrobe, and took out some clothes.

Simon followed them downstairs. "You better not be auditing my outfits, Gunter!" Their dad had looked through his clothes for damage or wrinkles every so often, but Simon was old enough to take care of his own clothes now.

Downstairs, Football took one of Simon's shirts from a Gunter and threw it on the lamb. Gunter followed it up with a pair of pants and a waistcoat.

"Uh..." said Simon. "I don't need a change of clothes yet, bro." He was more concerned about food. He was already getting a little hungry, and all he had in his bag was a half-full packet of jerky. He wondered if the light monsters were edible. It was possible that they were sapient, but even if they weren't, he really didn't want to eat them.

An untied bowtie landed on the lamb, and Gunter and Football watched it expectantly.

"Nothing," said Gunter, after a few seconds. He sighed.

Simon doubted they'd been transferred to whatever plane of existence he was on now, but he reached for them anyway, thinking that they might be useful as a buffer between him and the monsters.

His hand closed on air. The lamb definitely didn't seem to work on inanimate objects.

"Maybe," said Football, "Simon wants to stay in the lamb more because you dressed the lamb like him. Maybe we should dress the lamb different to Simon."

"Football, you're a genius!" said Gunter. He produced some more clones that streamed upstairs. "Now, what do you suppose Simon hates the most?"

"I'm not inside the lamb, Gunter," said Simon. "Or, uh, maybe I am? Maybe my essence is trapped inside the lamb... Oh, geez!" A flying monster with comically small wings was divebombing him. Simon waved his hands around. "Hey! Go bother someone else! Someone who can't see you!"

He was pretty sure the monster just laughed at him, but it was hard to tell.

Simon glanced at Gunter and Football, who were arguing about whether Simon loved or hated rainbow coloured things.

"Eh, they're not very dapper," said Simon. He liked a lot of things that he wouldn't necessarily want to wear. You had to think about what made you look neat and professional, and what drew too much attention to what you were wearing. Rainbows might be okay in small amounts, but it was easy to overdo them. "Now pastel rainbows... Maybe. Might still be a little flashy..."

Neither of them acknowledged him.

"If you really wanna make me uncomfortable, try some dirty tank tops maybe," Simon continued. "Uh... ripped jeans? Sneakers can-- Gah!" A horse-sized cylinder monster had phased through the wall and nearly knocked him over.

He needed some air. Simon pushed the monster away, and ran through the wall and onto thin air. "Oh-- Clamballs!" He'd been aiming for a branch that jutted out of the fort at floor level, but he'd missed it by nearly a foot.

Simon grabbed for anything to stop himself from falling, and caught hold of the edge of the floor, through the wall. "Okay... Better not think too hard about that one." He pushed off the trunk of the tree, and swung himself onto the branch. Once he'd got his footing, he stared at the part of the wall where he'd been hanging, then knocked on it. It seemed solid.

Simon stretched out on the branch and closed his eyes. There were monsters out here, of course, but it wasn't nearly as crowded. It still stank, but if he kept his eyes closed and pretended the monsters' chattering was a passing flock of flying mice, it was almost like they didn't exist.

Simon opened his eyes. "Gunter and Football can't help me. I can't help me! I'm gonna starve to death and nobody's ever gonna know! They're gonna keep trying to save me, and I'll be dead-- No, I gotta stay positive. I worry too much. I don't worry too much! If we can't solve this, I'm gonna die of starvation! I'm gonna starve! Oh glob, maybe I better not talk to myself so much. It's kinda making things worse."

He took a deep breath, and tried to relax. He wasn't going to die. Gunter was going to get him out of the lamb, or Simon was going to defeat the god of trapping people inside lambs, or the effect was going to wear off, and they were going to have a delicious dinner.

It was a nice afternoon. The sun was warm, and there were a few people around, mostly real-world monsters and woodland creatures. Close by, Prince Finn-Ice was sitting on a log, looking contemplative.

It was good to see other people, even if he couldn't talk to them. Even if they were his enemies. But what if he never spoke again, and he forgot how to speak?

"Oh what if I forget how to speak?" Simon repeated aloud, to reassure himself that it hadn't happened yet. "Okay. I can still talk. Talk talk talk. What's the point if no one can hear me?"

Finn-Ice jumped up from his seat and flew right at him. "No one?! Oh no! No one's ever gonna hear you talk too much about junk no one cares about! This is horrible! You'll never beat the bad guys now!"

Simon did not need this right now. "Are you making--" A jolt of excitement ran through him. "Hey! You can hear me?" He looked over his shoulder in case he was talking to someone behind him.

"You just said nobody can hear you, dude," said Finn-Ice. "I'm somebody! I-I think."

"Nobody else has been able to see or hear me!" said Simon. It was comforting be able to talk to someone. Even if it was the craziest guy in Uuu.

Finn-Ice looked at him closely, then said, "Then maybe you better get out of the Spirit Realm."

"The Spirit Realm!" said Simon. That was what it was called. He was sure he remembered reading those words somewhere. "That's the problem, I'm stuck-- and why can you see me?"

Finn-Ice shrugged. "Maybe it's because I'm so smart. Oh yeah, and the wizard eyes."

"Oh, right!" said Simon. Finn-Ice had mentioned being able to see what most people couldn't before, but Simon had forgotten. Or maybe he hadn't really believed that he was capable of any kind of second sight, even though Finn-Ice had obviously seen the Lich when nobody else had.

"Well, see ya," said Finn-Ice, and began to fly away.

"Wait!" Simon yelled. He couldn't be alone again. "Do you know anything else about the Spirit Realm? Do you have any books on it?" Finn-Ice had a quite a few books. Heavy ones, too. Simon was pretty sure he kept them around to look smart. Or possibly for powerlifting.

Finn-Ice grinned. "Yeah boy! I have books! I have... so many books." He rubbed his chin. "Books. Let's have a sleepover! I call top bunk!"

"Uh... Maybe just a visit," said Simon. He did not want to have to sleep like this. After seeing his bed, he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to sleep again. "I just gotta do some research."

 

Three weird, gross heads threw themselves at Simon as soon as he entered the castle. He staggered backwards, plunging his hands deep into their yellow, mucus-like bodies to pull them off him. "What the heck are these?"

"Oh, those are just Dead One heads," said Finn-Ice. "They're always climbing on you." He waggled his eyebrows. "I think they liiiiiike you."

"What's a Dead-- ugh!" Simon kicked one that was trying to climb back up his leg, and it flew into the wall. Another got stepped on by a much larger monster. He felt a little bad, but not much. "Hey, help me out here!"

"I never run from a tussle!" said Finn-Ice. "But I can't. I can't touch them." He sounded genuinely sorry. "Oh yeah, but I can do this!" He waved his hand through Simon's torso. "I'm a spooky ghost!" He gasped. "A snowst!"

Simon stepped back. "Stop that." He felt like Finn-Ice's hand should tickle, but it didn't feel like anything. Nothing in the material plane felt like anything, unless he concentrated. "Are you gonna tell me what they are?"

"Snowst," repeated Finn-Ice.

Simon didn't dignify that with a response.

"Okay, whatever," said Finn-Ice. "The heads are from the Dead One. They always follow you around when you come to visit. They're like weird, gross Simon puppies! That's all I know. Hey, wanna pet my puppies? Jake! Here boy!"

"I can't touch them," said Simon, as one of the Jakes ran up, tail wagging. "Remember?"

Finn-Ice was trying to hype Jake up about Simon's presence, but it wasn't really working. "You wanna play with Simon, boy? He's our best bro! You wanna play with our best bro?"

Jake kept looking over where Finn-Ice was looking, getting excited, then looking confused. Eventually, he wandered away.

"Fine!" Finn-Ice called after him. "Be that way!"

"Just show me where your books are," said Simon. The heads seemed to be regrouping, and he didn't want to stick around for round two.

He tried not to think about these weird heads climbing on him whenever he entered the castle. It was like his bed all over again. What had he ever done to them?

"Who needs dumb old books when you have me?" Finn-Ice demanded. "I thought we were friends!"

Simon had to stay on Finn-Ice's good side for at least as long as it took to learn how to get out of here. But talking to him could be so frustrating sometimes. "Because I need to find out how to get out of the Spirit Realm," he said carefully.

He reminded himself that Finn-Ice's memory had probably been better before the crown. He wasn't being frustrating on purpose. Simon had to remember that, whenever he wanted to snap at him.

"Oh, that?" said Finn-Ice. "That's turbo-simple! All you gotta do is sm..."

A small, two-headed monster vomited loudly from both heads, and Finn-Ice trailed off. Simon held his nose. He'd just realised what he'd been smelling this whole time.

"S-mop up all that monster business!" said Finn-Ice, pointing at whatever it was the monster had left behind. He cleared his throat. "To escape from the Spirit Realm, you must cleanse the castle of spirit residue."

"You just want me to clean up in here," said Simon. It was a really clumsy lie, but he almost wasn't annoyed. He couldn't imagine what it must be like to see these things all the time.

Finn-Ice stroked his chin. "Uh... The Dead One! The Dead One drew you into the Spirit Realm to challenge you to single combat! It's your destiny... to throw the Dead One... into the Spirit Hole in my basement and stop it leaving any more heads around here! Your destiny!"

"They bother you too, huh?" said Simon. He could understand that. "Just tell me what I really gotta do to get out of here, okay?"

"What?!" Finn-Ice screeched. "You don't trust me? Me, your best friend in all of Uuu?" He raised his hands and called magic into them.

Simon tried not to react. He might not be able to touch anything, but at least he was safe from erratic ice wizard attacks. "I... I don't really think we're best friends."

"Yes we are!" said Finn-Ice. He shot some magic through Simon, where it froze a passing Jake.

"What's my favourite food?" said Simon.

Finn-Ice lowered his hands. "Green! No, meatloaf!"

"Spicy hashbrowns!" said Simon. Of course Finn-Ice wouldn't know that. "Meatloaf is your favourite food."

Finn-Ice beamed. "You know my favourite food! Then it's settled. You believe me forever."

They'd reached the point of talking in circles. "Okay, here's the deal," said Simon. "I'll clean the spirit residue out of your castle. I'm an adventurer, and I help people. And I'll throw the Dead One into the Spirit Hole." Whatever either of those things were. "But then you gotta tell me how to escape."

"Rhombus!" said Finn-Ice. "Let's do it!"

"Do you promise?" said Simon. Finn-Ice was temperamental, but he rarely broke a promise once he'd made it.

"Royal promise?" said Finn-Ice dubiously.

That really wasn't necessary. "Just regular promise," said Simon.

Finn-Ice raised his flesh hand, said "I regular promise I will show you how to get out of the Spirit Realm after you do my spirit housework." He grinned. "All the other wizards laughed at me when I stocked up on spirit cleaning supplies, but who's the funny guy now?"

 

Simon managed to talk Finn-Ice into only having him clean the inhabited areas of the castle. He didn't know how far this place extended underground, and he wasn't sure Finn-Ice did, either. He'd explored a lot looking for new entry points, but the place got pretty dangerous below a certain point. Even if being in Spirit Realm made it completely safe, cleaning up down there could take weeks. Or even years.

There was still a lot of castle to clean, but that wasn't the problem. It was nothing compared to the chocolate fudge ice cream incident last year. Finn-Ice spent the entire time standing around yelling things like "lift with your legs!" and criticising Simon's mopping skills, then blaming the criticisms on Jake, who wasn't even there. But that wasn't the problem either.

The problem was the Dead One heads. Simon had never heard of the Dead One before, and even now the only sign of it was the heads, but they seemed to be multiplying. Luckily, they weren't so slimy that they left a trail on the floor, or Simon would never be finished. They just charged him, fell on him from above, and stood behind him so that he tripped when he tried to back up.

"Okay," said Simon, after the fifth time he'd stumbled back into a whole nest of heads. "You guys have forced my hand!"

He held the mop like a staff, then reconsidered, leaned it against the wall, and drew his sword. He preferred to fight with nunchucks, but a slicing weapon would probably be more effective here. Even relatively cohesive slime monsters tended to absorb bashing damage, in his experience. The nunchuck chain might have worked, if he could get it around them, but his chances weren't great with enemies this small.

Simon had been on the fence about picking up the sword from Betty for today's expedition, but now he was glad he had. The sword was his; she'd given it to him as a gift a while ago; but it was at its sharpest when it had been recently soaked in seawater. So she kept it at her place most of the time.

"Neat sword!" said Finn-Ice, leaning in with his hands. "What is it? Made of bone? Where did you get it?"

"I've told you like five times," said Simon, as he made a few practice swings. It was made from the bone of the Drowned God, and Finn-Ice knew it.

"I know, but I wanna hear about it again!" said Finn-Ice. "It's mad romantic!"

Simon didn't know why Finn-Ice cared so much about his love life, but he did know that the heads had started keeping their distance. "Yeah, that's right," said Simon. "You know what this means."

Keeping the sword in his off-hand, he picked up the mop again and started work on the latest puddle of mysterious monster liquid. After a second, all the heads tackled him at once. Simon yelled, fell over, clutched at his face, and flailed around with his sword until he felt the weight start to drop off. Once he could see again, he cut the heads into pieces until they vanished, thankfully without leaving a mess behind.

Finn-Ice shook his head. "Sloppy swordwork. It's like it's a bonesaw, not a bonesword." He laughed.

Simon knew he was a little out of practice at fencing, but he was more of a nunchuck fighter, and he'd been busy lately. He'd catch up when he had the time.

The heads kept coming one by one as Simon cleaned up, but they never swarmed him again. Maybe it took a while for the Dead One to recreate them.

Finally, he threw his mop down, then picked it up again. He still had to take it back to the spiritual laundry room. "Okay," he said. "Okay. I'm done. Just show me where the Dead One is, and then you can tell me how to get back to the material plane."

"I was gonna ask you to do the second sub-basement, but I don't have a second sub-basement," said Finn-Ice, then laughed as though he'd said something hilarious.

Simon didn't get it. It wasn't even a pun. "The Dead One," he repeated. "Where is it?"

Finn-Ice shrugged. "Don't look at me. Somewhere around here, I guess."

Simon was about to respond when another head waddled towards him. Simon drew his sword, sliced it up, and looked the way it had come. "I'm just gonna follow the heads."

The heads led him to a basement in the uninhabited part of the castle. Simon had snooped in there at least once. Three of Finn-Ice's shark monster constructs had ambushed him, and he'd had to leave quickly, but he was sure it was the same place.

Or at least it occupied the same space as that basement. Where Simon remembered a solid floor, there was the flat tops of spires that extended downwards into smoke so thick that Simon couldn't see the bottom. One of the platforms had a large hole in it with a boulder hovering above it. From the look of the hole, the boulder had erupted out of it from beneath.

The monsters were thick down here.

"Algebraic!" said Finn-Ice, when they got down there. "This is where the spirit hole is! See that giant floating rock? Just toss the Dead One down there and plug up the hole!"

Simon nodded. "So which one of these is it?" He hoped it wasn't the giant velvet worm currently crawling across the ceiling. Or any of the giant monsters, really.

Finn-Ice frowned. "Is what?"

"The Dead One!" Simon yelled.

Finn-Ice scanned the monsters around them, then said "Beats me."

Simon sighed. He was going to be really annoyed if there was no Dead One, outside of Finn-Ice's imagination. He'd been pretty on the mark so far, though. "I guess I keep following the heads."

He spotted a head a few spires over, and headed towards it. He was so focused on it that when the smoke parted to reveal yet another new monster, he jumped and drew his sword. This one was a small red quadruped with very long legs and a segmented body, like an ant's. One of its legs was missing, and it had no face, just a small hole. It looked a little like the god that his sword had been made from, but grosser.

"Hey," said Simon, although he knew it wouldn't respond. "Have you seen the--"

As he spoke, the monster began to regurgitate something, and Simon was glad he hadn't volunteered to clean up this place as well.

"Okay, but..." Simon trailed off when he recognised what it had thrown up. It was one of the heads. "You're the Dead One?" It had been built up so much, and the heads had caused him so much trouble, that the real thing was a bit of a disappointment.

The Dead One vomited up another head, and made a scolding noise at him.

Simon drew his sword. "Uh... Then you're gonna need to get into that spirit hole over there." He pointed through the smoke in the general direction of the hole.

All three heads jumped at his face, temporarily blinding him.

"Ugh!" yelled Simon. He started to peel them off one-handed, and something tugged on his sword arm. When his vision cleared, he found the Dead One right next to him, with the blade of his sword halfway into its facehole.

"Hey!" he yelled, yanking it back. "That's mine! I mean, I guess it belonged to the Drowned God before the ocean people... Wait a second." The Dead One was bright red and dripping with goo, but it was also spindly and insect-like. And it was missing a leg. "You're the Drowned God?" No, it couldn't be. The stories didn't match at all.

Although... Simon looked around for the heads. He couldn't see any, but they were sort of like the rodent servants the Drowned God was supposed to have used. Except a little more seal-looking. If he squinted. Globs often had multiple aspects for multiple contexts, and maybe the Drowned God's death had... corrupted it somehow? Or it had always been like this, and it was the stories that had been corrupted.

Or maybe the Spirit Realm was just were globs went when they died. Simon would have to research this later.

The Dead One made some more noises, and lunged face-first for the sword.

Simon yanked the sword out of its reach. "I'm sorry, but you can't have this."

He really was sorry. He'd never been bothered about using an artefact made out of bone before, but he'd never been faced with the previous owner before. According to legend, the Drowned God had completely destroyed a great land kingdom before being forced into the ocean, but was it really right to keep its limb even so?

He sheathed his sword. Whether that was right or not, he was certain it wasn't right to attack someone with their own--

What felt like a hundred heads all jumped him out the smoke and knocked him down.

"Aw!" Simon tried to yell. "Gross!"

If he stood around thinking about ethics all day, he'd never be able to keep his promise and go home. He was going to hate himself if he was wrong, but for now, all he could do was attack.

By the time he'd got free of every single head, the Dead One was long gone. Simon glanced around, and spotted a head on a pillar just visible through the fog. He ran towards it, and caught a glimpse of the Dead One limping away in an upright, human posture, using a pile of heads in place of its missing leg.

"Oh. That's convenient." If Simon hadn't become hopelessly turned around, the Dead One was heading straight for the spirit hole. He'd just sneak up on it, push it in, and get back to figuring out if he'd done the right thing.

He crept towards the Dead One, which was moving surprisingly quickly for a biped with a missing leg and the world's grossest crutch. But not quickly enough.

One of the heads looked at him, and wonked a warning. The Dead One's head twisted around to look at Simon.

"Oh, glob dangit," said Simon, and tackled it.

He knew his angle was wrong, and he wasn't surprised when he missed the hole completely, and they went rolling around to the right. The Dead One tried to poke him in the eye, and Simon grabbed it by the arm and flung it into the hole. His hand dipped into the portal with it, and came out unharmed.

Simon looked up at the rock he was supposed to plug up the hole with, then down at the portal. "Wonder what's through there..." It wasn't the time, but if he didn't look now, he didn't know when he'd get another chance.

He lay on his stomach, held his breath, and poked his head through the hole.

"What in the--" It was the cave where they'd found the lamb. There were the same gigantic stalagmites, the same pedestal, and even, as far as he could tell, the same monsters. "How?"

He saw the Dead One lying near the pedestal, and the Dead One saw him. Hastily, Simon got to his feet and plugged up the hole with the rock. It was a little heavier than he'd expected, but he could shift it when he threw his weight on it.

He really needed to read up on this place. He couldn't figure out how any of it worked, and that was beginning to bother him almost as much as the monsters. He headed for the door. "Okay, Finn-Ice, I'm ready to--"

Finn-Ice wasn't there.

"Finn-Ice? Finn?" Just calling him Finn sounded weird, but Simon was trying to make an effort to use his real, human name at least sometimes.

Had Finn-Ice even seen Simon get rid of the Dead One? If not, how would Simon ever prove it? There was no guarantee that The Dead One would stay in the cave for long enough for Simon to show Finn-Ice. It could be anywhere by now.

He'd have to add that to the list of things to worry about later. He just wanted to get out of here before all the things that were bothering him teamed up and crushed him.

He found Finn-Ice in his weight room, doing clean and jerks with his tunic off. Finn-Ice looked his way, and grinned. "Hey, Simon! When did you get here, Si-Si?" He lifted his weight above his head, then put it down gently.

Simon opened his mouth.

Before he could say anything, Finn-Ice said "Are you here to unrescue my puppies?! I'm gonna beat you this time, just you wait and see!"

"No!" said Simon. "You said you-- You kidnapped another dog?" When had he had the time? Simon had only been in that basement for ten minutes. Unless time worked differently in the Spirit Realm, which wouldn't surprise him.

"I did?" said Finn-Ice. "Aw, the little guy's gonna be so lonely! What am I doing up here?"

Obviously he didn't remember their last conversation. Simon had been so worried about everything else that he'd forgotten to worry about this. "You didn't. But you said--"

Finn-Ice lunged at him. "What?! Then why did you tell me I did?" He'd closed his ice hand around Simon's throat and was shaking it, but didn't seem to notice that he wasn't holding anything. "You're lying to me! I thought we were friends!" He looked at his hand, made a face, and said "Hey, Simon, what are you doing in the Spirit Realm?"

"I touched a magic lamb and if you don't get me out right now I'm gonna haunt you forever!" Simon yelled.

"Aw, but then I'll never beat you!" said Finn-Ice. He rubbed his chin. "Okay, you gotta smash the porcelain lamb. And by you, I mean me, because you can't touch anything. 'Cause you're in the Spirit Realm."

"Oooh," said Simon. He'd thought that would either kill him, or sever his link to the real world. Although he wasn't feeling very linked to the real world right at the moment. "Let's go."

 

Finn-Ice set a brisk pace on the way to the tree fort, mostly to get Simon to break down and admit that he was jealous of Finn-Ice for being able to fly. It didn't work, though. Simon didn't even seem that out of breath for being such a wimpy beanpole. He spent the entire trip asking for more details about how breaking the lamb would free him. And when Finn-Ice called him a nerd for thinking so hard about that stuff, Simon started coming up with his own theories.

"The lamb has my face on it," said Simon. "I think it must have trapped my essence when I touched it. It's projecting it into the Spirit Realm! Hm... The lamb is too small to--"

"Uh-huh," said Finn-Ice. "Yeah! Interesting!" He was doing a great job of pretending to be listening. As annoying as Simon's nerd stuff got, it was cool that he was so passionate about it. Maybe that was why they were such good friends. They were both passionate.

"But why does the spirit hole in your basement lead to the cave?" Simon continued. "It may be purely a local phenomenon... Maybe the lamb is sending out--"

"Hey, Simon!" Finn-Ice interrupted. "Best bro! Bro-FF! We should do this more often, Weeping Will-bro!" He hoped Simon appreciated the effort he was going to with his wordplay.

"Uh, sure," said Simon.

They reached the tree fort. Finn-Ice smashed through the wall to make as cool an entrance as possible, and yelled "Guys!"

Gunter and Football looked over at him, startled.

Next to them was the lamb that was keeping Simon a prisoner. Probably. Finn-Ice had forgotten the exact details of today's adventure. For some reason, the lamb was wearing a green sweater and glasses, and there was a huge pile of clothes in the middle of the floor.

Finn-Ice scowled. Gunter and Football had just been sitting around playing dress-up while Simon was in trouble! They'd get a solid C- on Finn-Ice's Royal Friendship Final, at best.

Gunter put his flippers up in front of his face. "Oh, what are you doing here?"

Finn-Ice screamed a war cry, and lunged towards the lamb. Gunter lunged towards him, and they collided in mid-air. Finn-Ice grabbed Gunter with his ice arm and started to squeeze, but Gunter poked him in the eye and spawned clones that ran up his arm.

Finn-Ice threw Gunter to the ground in disgust and clawed at the smaller Gunters climbing all over him. He'd made a rookie Gunter-fighting mistake. He must have been distracted by what a good deed he was doing.

One of the clones climbed onto his crown, so he punched it, knocking the clone off, along with the crown. After that, the other clones were so intimidated that they gave up.

Football picked up the crown and ran out of the room laughing.

"What the blood are you doing?" Simon yelled. He was very yelly today. "Tell him why you're here!"

Finn-Ice glanced over at him. "But don't you think I looked..." He grinned widely. "Cool?" He didn't like to lean too much on the cool-in-two-ways pun, but Simon had left himself wide open.

Gunter peered in Simon's direction, frowned, and positioned himself between Finn-Ice and the lamb.

Simon took a breath, let it out, and took another breath to speak.

"Fine, whatever," said Finn-Ice, before Simon could give him another nerd lecture about how he was running his dog rescue wrong or something. "But only because you've been such a good friend."

He picked up Gunter with his flesh hand and threw him across the room, then reached for the lamb. "Gunter, I need this lamb so I can smash it and--" He picked up the lamb, and was thrown backwards. He sat up and continued. "--free my best bro Simon-- Oh. Huh." Suddenly everything was tinted yellow, and it stank. He'd been trapped in the Spirit Realm too. "That's no good."

Simon seemed too angry to speak for a second or two. He'd been getting angry a lot since he'd become a moody teenager. Finn-Ice was beginning to get used to it.

"What?" said Gunter. He wrapped the lamb in the clothes and put it back on the table. "Er... Another... Another victory for Gunter?" He glanced at the hole in the wall that Finn-Ice had left, then dug through the pile of clothes, muttering to himself.

Simon seemed to have found his voice. "What did you do that for? What's wrong with you?! Now I'll never get out of here!"

"Uh..." said Finn-Ice. He'd made a tactical error, but he didn't want to worry Simon more than he already had. "Oh, I meant to do that. All part of my master plan. I had to enter the Spirit Realm because I need..." He eyed Simon's bag. No, he couldn't he take that. He'd tried lots of times, either to stop Simon from pulling out the exact thing he needed to thwart Finn-Ice's plans, or to try to learn its secrets for himself. It never worked. Simon was too protective of it.

Simon put his hand over the strap of his bag. Finn-Ice saw his opportunity and grabbed Simon's glasses off his face.

"Your glasses! There's a tricky type of... Whoa, your eyes are sparkly when--"

"You are the worst guy I've ever met!" Simon burst out, waving his arms around like he often did when he got angry. "I don't know why I thought you could help me! You can't help anyone! You make everyone's life worse, just by being you! Why can't you just act normal for one day, huh?"

Something behind Simon caught Finn-Ice's eye. The static on the room's weird no-signal TV decor was shifting in time with Simon's hands. Something was strange about that, but before Finn-Ice could remember what it was, it was gone.

Simon had stopped yelling. "Oh. I'm sorry, man. Sorry. You can't help it. I'm being unfair, and--"

"Do that again!" said Finn-Ice. He had the feeling what he'd just seen was important.

"Huh?" said Simon, who seem irritated again. It was like he had some kind of lever inside him that kept switching him between anger and guilt and back again. "What is wrong with you? You got some kind of... being insulted... thing?"

There. That static thing that didn't make sense. It was happening again, and it was going to help them somehow.

"Are you even--" began Simon, and turned to see what Finn-Ice was looking at. "Hey..." He moved his arm. The static moved as well.

"Oh man, I had it a second ago--" Finn-Ice began.

"That wasn't happening before!" Simon interrupted. "Do you think we can affect anything else? Maybe when two people are taken by the lamb, it creates some kind of bipolar field, allowing us to disturb the charge of the material plane... But how far does it go? I'm gonna need to do some experiments..."

The white noise of Simon talking about science stuff was helping Finn-Ice remember what he'd forgotten. "We can use it to break the lamb!"

"I was getting to that!" said Simon. He waved his arms above his head in a circular motion, whipping up a small breeze.

Finn-Ice did the same, and watched with fascination as dust swirled above him. It was like magic! And not pedestrian ice magic, either.

Gunter stared at the swirls in the air. "Simon? Is-Is that you?"

"It is me!" said Simon. He sounded happier than he had all day. "I'm coming back, bro!"

Finn-Ice was just having fun doing science magic. Science was great when you did it with friends. He threw the breeze he was making at Simon's breeze, and the two of them swirled their combined breeze around the lamb.

The lamb began to vibrate.

"Don't turn around..." Simon mumbled. "Don't turn around..."

"Okay," said Finn-Ice. There was no way he was going to miss this.

The lamb vibrated off the table, and shattered on the floor. The sound ripped through Finn-Ice's entire being, and he felt like a snow goon had wrestled him in the chest. But at least everything had lost that weird green tint.

Gunter whirled around. "No! S-- Oh. Hello, Simon."

"Gunter!" said Simon. "I gotta tell you where I just was!"

Gunter regarded the smashed pieces of the lamb with his flippers on his hips. "You know, I'm beginning to think that this thing won't make a very good centrepiece at all."

Simon and Gunter hugged, laughing. Finn-Ice didn't understand what was so funny, but he joined in anyway. It was great to have friends.

Chapter Text

Year of the Sky Witch
July

Gunter rummaged through the freezer, humming to himself. It was a warm night at the tree fort, and he'd been thinking of trying some of that broccoli ice cream from the other day. Food from the Kingdom of Unusual Flavours could be hit and miss, but when it was good, it was good.

Simon must have been dredging up his multi-year food preservation experiments again, because the freezer was a mess. There was a bag of frozen raspberries that was more ice crystal than bag, and a sheaf of blank printer paper that Football kept claiming was her emergency backup brain. Gunter reached under a half-empty box of potato wedges, and his flipper brushed against the edge of a plastic bag. He froze. There was only one thing in the freezer that he kept in a bag this flimsy. Inside the bag was a plastic container, and inside the container was Prismo's anchovy sauce.

Actually, it was Gunter's anchovy sauce, based on an old family recipe, but Prismo was the one who'd provided the anchovies. Normally Gunter couldn't get them fresh without trekking all the way to the very south of Uuu, but Prismo had had some kind of hookup, and he'd been very generous about letting Gunter have some whenever he wanted.

But now there were no more anchovies, because Prismo was dead, and it was all Gunter's fault.

No. It wasn't his fault. Gunter was just being negative again. The negative thoughts had started soon after Prismo had... left, and Gunter was beginning to learn to live with them. All he had to do to counter them was think about how it wasn't actually his fault. It was the Lich's fault. Gunter wouldn't even know how to begin disintegrating a person with only his breath. He had failed to stop the Lich from killing Prismo, but that wasn't the same as killing him himself.

Then it was Gunter's fault for bringing the Lich there, except that wasn't true either. Gunter distinctly remembered the Lich entering Prismo's time room on his own. Gunter had only even met Prismo because he and Simon had followed the Lich to Prismo's time room, to stop the Lich from carrying out his evil Lich plans.

But they'd faile-- "Oh, no, we, we definitely won that one," said Gunter aloud. "Definitely stopped him that time. The Lich-- He's got more than one plan."

That should do it. He was getting a lot better at dealing with his negative thoughts. Even before... before, he'd had a lot of practice talking things through with Simon, who'd been always prone to that kind of thinking. It was different when it was your own brain, but he felt like he was on the right track

It was supposed to get him out of the habit of insulting himself all the time, and he wondered when that was going to happen. Probably never.

No, that was yet another negative thought. They'd probably go away sometime if he kept this up.

"Hey, Gunter?" said Simon, from behind him. "You okay?"

Gunter jumped guiltily, and closed the freezer. He'd been standing here arguing with himself and letting all the cold air out. He was such a mess. "Oh, no, I'm fine. Just thinking about the old... thinking. Thoughts. Thinking thoughts. You know me. Always thinking." And he wasn't a mess.

"What are you thinking about?" said Simon. "You doing okay in the melon today, Gunts?"

Gunter considered being honest, but there was no need to burden Simon, who was a growing kid and had his own problems. "Well... I was thinking... I was thinking of polishing off the last of that anchovy sauce!" He realised what he'd said as soon as he said it. Simon knew exactly why Gunter hadn't already eaten that sauce. "It's er, going to go off if we don't eat it soon. Can't let it go to waste! Anchovies..."

Actually, it might last another month if he kept it in the freezer. He could have another month of not having to think about what it meant to eat the last of Prismo's food.

Simon seemed a little more burdened by Gunter's problems than Gunter had hoped. "Oh..." He opened the freezer again and looked inside. "Are you sure?"

"I'm, er... Yes." Gunter would have to eat it sooner or later, and he couldn't keep losing his nerve. "It needs a proper sendoff." So did Prismo.

 

Gunter was having second thoughts. Actually, he was having twenty-second thoughts. But every time he let himself think that he should just go to bed and do this another day, his negative thoughts cut in, agreed, and told him to just let the sauce go to waste. And then he'd remember why he was doing this.

Prismo was gone forever, and Gunter would have to face that sometime. So why not tonight?

Besides, he'd already reheated the sauce. There was no going back now.

Gunter had constructed a recipe-ritual that he hoped would let Prismo live on in his dreams, which was the way Prismo had always said he'd want to be remembered. The recipe part was a simple spaghetti dish of five ingredients: Minced beef, chopped mushrooms, grated garlic, spaghetti noodles, and, of course, anchovy sauce. He'd prepared them all separately, which was bad cooking, but good ritualling.

And now the meat and sauce were simmering in separate pans, and the garlic, noodles and sauce were sitting aside on plates. He really couldn't put this off any longer.

Gunter waved at Simon, who was standing by with his drum kit. Simon started playing a slow, steady beat on the bass.

Gunter picked up the pan with the mince. "Two utter strangers."

He poured in the mushrooms with a clone body, and stirred them in with his main body. "A chance encounter."

Another clone tipped in the grated garlic. "A foundation of shared priorities and interest... things."

A clone took the pasta and dumped it on top of the meat. "Late night g..."

He couldn't go on. This was all wrong. The words were wrong, the feelings were wrong, Prismo being dead was wrong. He should never have started this ritual, and he didn't care if that was a negative thought.

"Are you sure you wanna do this now?" said Simon, still hitting the drum at the same pace. "If you wanna stop, we can have the pasta with tuna suace..."

"No. No. No stopping," said Gunter. Stopping was even worse than continuing. "I... I'm ready." He wasn't ready, but that was just a negative thought. He tossed the pasta until it was mixed in, and said "Late night grumble parties."

He'd already passed the point of no return at least ten times now, but this part truly was the point of no return. He used his main body to pick up the sauce and pour it over the meal. It didn't mix very well, so he tossed it again until it did. "A... A perfect, immaculate friendship."

Once he was happy with the result, he put on a dinner bib, and carried the food over to the table, putting it down next to the plastic bag he'd kept the sauce in. Prismo had given him his first set of anchovies in this bag. Gunter had cleaned it since then, but it was still the same bag. He wasn't going to throw it away.

Simon's drumming got subtly faster.

Gunter ate the pasta as quickly as he could without choking. It tasted all right, but he couldn't stop thinking about how this was the last time he'd ever have sauce like this. Even if he managed to get fresh anchovies from somewhere else, he didn't think he could eat them. Anchovies meant Prismo, and Prismo was gone.

Simon did a good job speeding up the drumming as Gunter ate. By the time Gunter was down to the last few mouthfuls, it was a drumroll.

Simon was so talented, not like Gunter.

Actually, Gunter had his good points.

He gulped down the final strand of pasta and jumped up. "Quickly! Let's... Let's hurry up and get to bed!" This was the last of the points of no return. As long as Gunter was thinking about Prismo when he went to sleep, his thoughts should transition into a memory-dream. The ritual almost assured that.

Gunter grabbed the plastic bag, fell forwards, and slid towards the ladder to his room. As he slid, he generated a clone underneath him, which generated another clone, until his main body was on top of a tower of sliding Gunters the height of the ceiling. He reached the ladder, grabbed the trapdoor to the bedroom, and pulled himself up, reabsorbing his clones as he did.

Feeling satisfied, he slid across the floor to his bed, noticed the bed was significantly higher than floor level, and realised that he hadn't thought this all the way through. Reluctantly, Gunter slowed down, panting a little, and climbed his bed ladder. But he was still thinking about Prismo, so the ritual was still on track.

Gunter closed his eyes, and dreamed.

 

Simon opened his eyes, and wondered why he wasn't dead anymore. Had some glob taken pity on him and given him a second chance?

Oh. He'd just been dreaming, and all that heart-weighing ancient Egypt stuff had never actually happened. That was a relief.

Simon grabbed his chest just in case, and was relieved to feel no hole. Prismo had warned... Prismo! He really had dreamed about Prismo, just like Gunter had wanted. The dream had been more about Simon's mostly imaginary sins than Prismo, but the two of them had never really been that close.

Gunter had probably had more luck. Simon looked over at Gunter's bed, but the only thing there was his plastic bag. "Guess he got up already." That was a bad sign. Either Simon had slept really late, or Gunter hadn't had dreamed about anything interesting enough to warrant lying in bed trying to get back to sleep.

And why had he left the plastic bag there like it was garbage? He couldn't have got over Prismo that quickly.

Simon got out of bed and climbed downstairs to see Gunter at the table, staring at nothing. "Gunter?" he called, still on the ladder. "I had a dream, but--"

Gunter burst out laughing. "Can't say I really see the appeal there. But you know." He suppressed another laugh. "Takes all sorts."

Simon stopped climbing. "Appeal? What? What are you talking about?" The appeal of having dreams? Gunter loved dreaming. He wasn't nearly as prone to nightmares as Simon was.

Gunter moved his flipper to his mouth, choked, and slapped himself on the back with a clone.

Simon jumped to the floor and ran over. "Gunter! Are you okay?"

"The Cosmic Owl?" said Gunter, when he'd recovered. "Did he say anything? Do anything weird?"

"Are you still asleep?" said Simon, exasperated. Gunter's eyes were open, but that didn't rule anything out. Apparently Simon sometimes slept with his eyes open, so why couldn't Gunter?

And why was this giving Simon such a strong sense of deja vu?

Gunter looked directly at him for the first time. "Simon, you need to focus, all right? What did the Cos--"

His body warped, then exploded into dust.

Simon stared. "Gunter?"

So, he probably hadn't been sleepwalking. Simon was pretty sure that wasn't what normally happened when you woke up a sleepwalker. But then what was it? Had that even really been Gunter?

Gunter's voice broke into his thoughts, from somewhere on the next floor down. "Simon!" He sounded... angry?

Simon raced downstairs to found Gunter in the doorway of another room, facing away from him. His arms were raised like he was carrying something.

"--so not getting any cookies now!" Gunter was saying.

This was more than deja vu. Gunter really had said that before, on the the day they'd met alternate universe Finn and Jake. Finn had been kind of a belligerent jerk at first, so Simon had knocked him out, and Gunter had scolded him for it. Gunter had been holding cookies on a tray, Simon remembered. Jake had been right next to him, eating them.

But all that had been more than a year ago. Why was Gunter acting it out? Simon peered over Gunter's head, half expecting to see himself and Finn, but the room was empty.

A memory dream? Or maybe just a memory.

If this was the same thing as the Gunter at the table, the Gunter in front of him could also explode at any second. Simon had to act fast if he wanted to get anything useful out of him.

Gunter put his head in his flipper in totally uncalled for annoyance, and Simon grabbed him by the shoulders and spun him around.

Gunter opened his beak in shock and dropped his free arm to his side.

Simon managed to say "Gunter, what's going o--" before Gunter exploded into dust again, and Simon exploded into a coughing fit.

"Oh!" said Simon aloud. He coughed a couple more times. "I get it! He explodes when something different happens! Must be some kinda... timeline smearing event... I guess?" But why? And how could Simon break him out of it? He couldn't just wait for him to catch up with reality. That would take years, and Gunter might just get smeared again once he reached the memory of whatever it was that had triggered the problem. Could timeline smears go fractal? Simon didn't know, and he didn't think he wanted to find out. Not like this, anyway.

The first step was to find Gunter again. And to hope that Gunter was confining his reminiscences to the tree fort and wasn't back in the Penguin District reliving his first day of school or something.

He was going to get this right this time. He was going to say the same things he'd said in the memory, and integrate himself into it until the explosion window had run its course. He thought that might probably work, if he did it right, and if explosion windows were real.

Down the hall, he faintly heard Gunter say "Simon? You okay in there?"

Simon rushed into the hall to find Gunter standing outside the bathroom. The door was open, but Gunter's eyes were focused on the doorway, like he couldn't see inside.

Simon hoped he was jumping to conclusions about which memory this was. Gunter must have asked him if he was okay through a closed bathroom door lots of times. It wasn't like he'd never been sick in his life. Gunter was using his careful, Simon-has-major-issues voice, but it didn't immediately follow that he was trying to comfort Simon after he'd struck out with Bonnibel for the millionth time and Simon was about to snap at him.

Gunter had been trying to give him romantic advice, and Simon had said that Gunter didn't know anything about romance, because he was dating some absurd fraction of everyone in the world. It didn't even make sense as an insult, but Simon had said it because he'd thought it might hurt him. Thankfully, it hadn't, but that didn't stop Simon from replaying what he'd said in his mind every time someone asked how he'd met his girlfriend.

Hearing Gunter act it out was even worse.

"Beg your pardon?" said Gunter.

He was still using that voice. It really was the memory Simon thought it was, and he had to say something soon, or he'd never integrate himself.

But what? Simon never played out this part of the conversation in his head. He was hard pressed to even remember the exact words Gunter had used right after Simon had snapped at him.

Gunter had just asked if he was okay, and Simon had been angry at himself for being so unloveable and stupid, and at Gunter for being there and being so concerned... He probably would have lied? "I said I'm fine," Simon tried.

No, even if the words were right, the way he'd said them were wrong. He was pretty sure his voice had been higher when he was thirteen, and he needed to sound more upset, and...

Gunter whirled around. "Blimey, Simon. You almost gave me--"

Simon remembered to hold his breath before Gunter exploded this time.

Obviously where he stood mattered just as much as what he said. It was time to stop experimenting, and start researching.

This was beginning to scare him.

 

Gunter found himself in a huge room made of blocks. Or it was a set of rooms. Or he was outside, halfway up some impossibly giant structure made entirely out of blocks. He couldn't tell. He was standing on a staircase that led from the roof of a block structure to a hallway between some other blocks. Below the staircase, the blocks stretched down into blackness.

There were definitely blocks. That much was obvious.

In fact... He gasped. "It's Prismo's house!" It wasn't, but it had a similar kind of aesthetic. "It actually worked, I can't be--"

Gunter stopped talking abruptly, and narrowed his eyes. There was something off about his voice. It sounded normal, and for a dream, that was really strange.

He spawned a clone and inspected himself through the clone's eyes. "Hm. Now that... That is odd." In his dreams, he usually looked tall and bluish, with big wing and tail feathers, and his voice was much higher. He even spoke with a different accent. Not because he particularly thought of himself as being tall and blue. It was just the way he looked when he was asleep.

But this time, he seemed to be the same height, colour and species as normal. Maybe his usual dream form was on break or something.

He reabsorbed the clone and ambled down the stairs. Now, if the ritual had worked, where was Prismo? Gunter couldn't see him anywhere. Obviously, the ritual hadn't worked, and he was on the failure plane, where the failures lived.

"Oh, be patient," he muttered aloud. "Prismo must be... Well, he's further along, isn't he?" There was plenty of whatever this was that he hadn't seen yet.

Prismo approached on the wall of a distant block, and disappeared down the same hallway that Gunter was approaching.

"Ooh!" said Gunter. "There he is! Prismo! Prismo! Wait for me!"

Prismo didn't seem to hear him. Gunter raced down the stairs and slid after Prismo on his belly. As he picked up speed, Prismo seemed to as well. When he slowed down, so did Prismo. Gunter was beginning to wonder if he'd ever catch up when the hallway ran out, and he was sliding in empty space, surrounded by stars.

And there was a comet. Gunter flipped himself upright, and stared. It was... It was. And he wanted it. It was so close... He just had to reach out, but not yet... He just needed to wait a little longer, and...

Gunter lost track of time as he gazed as the comet. He'd never wanted something so much in his life, and he had no idea why. He just knew it was important. It was more than important, it was...

It wasn't Prismo, that was what it was. Gunter shook his head repeatedly. "Right. Yes. Okay. Prismo. Hope I-- Hope I haven't lost him..."

The hallway reassembled around him, and Gunter waddled along it. If Prismo was going to match his speed exactly, there was no point tiring himself out with more sliding.

A nearby wall turned transparent, and Gunter heard his own voice say "Couldn't you put the TV on the other side of the bed? Then you can watch TV without getting up."

Gunter peered through to see himself and Prismo in the time room, relaxing in the hot tub.

"And ruin the feng shui?" said Prismo. "You don't even wanna know how bad my luck's been lately. It's the equivalent of walking under thirteen ladders."

Ah, this must have been from they'd first met, when Gunter had been too intimidated to reveal what he really thought of feng shui.

Eventually, he'd learned that he and Prismo had one important belief in common, and that was that everyone was entitled to their beliefs. Gunter didn't care that that Prismo believed in feng shui, and Prismo didn't care that Gunter didn't.

Hadn't. He hadn't cared that Gunter didn't share his belief in the relationship between furniture and life energy.

Gunter watched himself talk with Prismo for the first time. Neither of them seemed to be able to see him, and he was glad. Time was complicated, and he didn't want to damage it.

He had a tentative thought that reruns of old memories didn't count as seeing Prismo again, but he was pretty sure it was wrong, so he ignored it. This was exactly what he'd been trying to do, and if he stared enough, the sound of Prismo's voice would stop making him sad.

 

A giant, treehouse-sized Gunter appeared outside the window, and Simon flipped the pages of last year's Journal of Temporal Paradoxai even more aggressively. Gunter was right there, but Simon couldn't talk to him. Not until he figured this out.

He'd thought maybe Gunter wouldn't explode if he left him alone, but according to his research, Gunter would eventually notice something was amiss no matter what. The change in the memory had to be relatively close to him, or he'd dismiss it, but unless he was kept in a featureless, airtight room, it would happen eventually.

If Gunter had to be unstuck from time and space, Simon at least wanted him to stop exploding. It looked like it hurt. He just couldn't figure out how to help. He didn't have a featureless, airtight room, and he had no way of moving Gunter there even if he did. He needed to think of something else.

Simon put down the journal, picked up a book titled Space, Time, Spacetime, and Timespace, and flipped to the index. He remembered this book being pretty basic, but smeared timelines were an uncommon research topic, and he was getting desperate.

He quickly discarded the idea that Gunter's spacetime anchor had been eaten by elderitchs. It wasn't impossible, but a quick cross-reference with Not Just Tentacles and Beaks!: A Phylogeny of Otherworldly Horrors told him that that type of eldritch was uncommon in this corner of the rational planes. He was searching for any mention of other causes of timeline smearing when a Gunter clone ended the room, and walked straight into Simon's reading chair.

"Oof!" said the clone. "Oh, Simon. Good timing. Let me tell you about--"

The clone exploded. So did the giant Gunter outside.

Simon had one second to try to concentrate before Gunter's voice floated in from the kitchen. Simon couldn't hear what he was saying, but every word sounded like an accusation that he wasn't upset enough, and wasn't doing enough to help.

He could read and keep an eye on Gunter. Probably. At least it might alleviate the guilt before it turned into an unmanageable spiral. Simon walked up to the kitchen doorway and listened.

Gunter was standing near the oven, looking with mild surprise at a point to Simon's left. Then he said "Simon says it's not that far. He says there are a lot of places-- Not in Uuu, obviously-- a lot of places that are further from the ocean than space."

Simon tried to remember when he'd had a reason to drop that particular fact onto Gunter. Maybe when they'd discussed when rockets would be reinvented? Or... Was the time he'd tried to build that revenge rocket? Simon still couldn't think about that without feeling awful about what that had done to Gunter. He was still waiting for the other shoe to drop on that. You couldn't have your brain pop out and just walk away like nothing had happened.

Simon hadn't been well himself at the time, but that was no excuse for trying such a dangerous revenge plan on someone he'd had no chance of finding. O'Malley could have been anywhere in the universe at that point. The border between Earth and space might be very close, but most things in space were very, very far away.

Gunter waved a flipper and said "Oh, he knows what he's doing. He'll be fine."

There was no way this wasn't about the revenge rocket. That was twice his worst fears had come true now. Seeing Gunter talk to Marceline about it really hammered that how stupid Simon had been. He couldn't hear what Gunter was hearing, but judging by his responses, she was expressing concern.

This was not helping his concentration as much as he'd hoped.

"Wait!" said Gunter. He made a twisting motion on the oven's temperature knob, and climbed towards the window.

This must have been just before he'd stowed away on the rocket. Simon couldn't watch this.

Simon crossed the kitchen and grabbed Gunter as he was saying "He needs his space!"

"Gunter!" said Simon, knowing it didn't matter what he said, but not caring. "You can't!"

Gunter looked at him, then out the window. "Er, Marceline? Sim--"

Simon was beginning to get used to the feeling of his brother exploding in his arms, and that was scary. He started back to the other room, and Gunter reappeared near the oven.

"Not again..." muttered Simon. Now Glob was just tormenting him.

Gunter seemed to be stirring something on the stovetop. He looked at it, sighed, and waved his flipper in the direction of the drum kit, which was standing where Simon had left it last night.

Gunter mimed for a couple of seconds, then said "Two utter strangers."

Simon bit his tongue to stop himself from yelling out loud. This was the ritual from last night! If he could keep this going for long enough, he'd be able to see what happened to Gunter afterwards, and maybe get a hint about what was going on. No more trying to read while Gunter acted out every time Simon had ever failed him.

Simon leapt behind the drum kit and began hitting the bass, at the same steady pace as last night. He stared nervously at Gunter.

Gunter didn't look like he was about to explode. He said "A chance encounter."

Simon relaxed as much as he dared. This was the second-most important drum recital of his life. If he missed a beat, Gunter would probably explode again, and Simon didn't know how long it would be before this opportunity came up again. He'd had enough of this. He just wanted his brother back.

 

Gunter still wasn't certain where he was, but he was beginning to settle on "weird block city that looks like that megacity Karl made when she was two days old and Gunter Jr knocked down when she was two days and one hour." The block structures looked a bit like skyscrapers, and there seemed to be a sky above him. It was dark purple and featureless, but it was still a sky.

Memories of Prismo were playing on the walls of the buildings all around him, and Gunter felt that this project had been a moderate success so far. Prismo was going to be living on Gunter's dreams for a good while yet.

There was another door up ahead, and Gunter wondered what was inside this one. Maybe it was a high quality home theatre system with video of every one of Gunter's Prismo memories. Or maybe it was a monster from the beginning of time ready to eat his soul, but that was just a negative thought.

Some small dinosaurs walked directly up the left side of the walkway. They were about the same size as Gunter, and they were treating the vertical wall like it was solid ground. When they got to the top, they rotated ninety degrees and walked across the real ground.

Gunter stopped to let them pass, and also to figure out the surge of anger and loathing that was suddenly overwhelming him. He kept thinking things like No! Not again! and Crush them! Crush them now!

Gunter didn't see what the big deal was. He'd never seen anything like these dinosaurs before, and they weren't threatening him, so there was no reason to crush them. He could have, but you couldn't go around crushing things just because they were there. It was bad manners.

Maybe it was one of those racial memory things. Penguins probably hadn't had a good time back in dinosaur days. He couldn't see what was so scary about these normal sized guys, though. It was the big T-Rex-looking things his ancestors probably would have had to watch out for.

The last of the dinosaurs continued on down the right side of the walkway, and Gunter started walking again, wondering which memory of Prismo he'd see next. He hoped it was that hot tub party they'd had with alternate universe Jake. When Gunter and Jake had found out they both knew Prismo, they'd had to get together for a soak. They'd planned to do it again sometime, but... The Lich.

A nearby wall flickered, and there were Simon and Gunter, in Prismo's time room, standing in front of a bed where Prismo's waking old man body was sleeping. O'Malley was there as well, and Gunter didn't like how close he was standing to Simon. Prismo was up on the wall, and the Lich was looming in the background.

"Psh," Prismo was saying. "What could go wrong?"

Gunter forgot about not interfering, and tried to yell a warning. But he'd frozen on the spot. He could only stare as the Lich grabbed the old man version of Prismo, woke him up, and then killed him, while a running commentary went on in Gunter's head about everything he could have done better to prevent this. He could have kept a closer eye on the Lich. He could have knocked old man Prismo out of the Lich's hand. He could have gone on a diet so he wouldn't be so fat and useless.

What? He was a penguin. He was supposed to be fat. Or he'd die of hypothermia the next time he went for a nice winter swim. His negative thoughts needed to step up their game.

The Lich started laughing, and Gunter turned away. He didn't want to remember Prismo like this. But... He didn't have many bad Prismo memories. Maybe now that this one was over with, he could get back to the good ones.

Gunter threw himself onto his belly and slid down the walkway to the building up ahead, leaving the sound of himself screaming at the Lich behind.

The building consisted of one room, and was pretty large, but there was only two things in it: a bed, and a small inverted pyramid with a glass of milk on it. That was weird.

Gunter rubbed the pillow with his flippers. "No friction..." he murmured. He'd never wake up with fluffed feathers with a pillow like this. He prodded it, and it was so plump and soft that it was an effort to pull his wing tip back out.

"Now, what about this bed?" The frame was hovering off the ground, which was usually a bad sign, stability-wise. Gunter grew as large as he could without his head scraping the ceiling, and pushed down with all his strength.

Nothing. It was completely stable. This bed would survive an avalanche.

Gunter shrunk back to his usual size, and stroked the bed's blanket absent-mindedly. He'd never seen anything that came close to how comfortable this bed looked. He liked to think he'd done a good job with his bed at home, but it was a pile of rusty nails compared to this.

Gunter wasn't stupid. He'd crawled enough dungeons to know a trap when he saw one. But who would set a trap for him in his own dream? He couldn't even remember what happened when you went to sleep in a lucid dream. He had the feeling that it was either dangerous or impossible, but he couldn't remember exactly. Knowing about that stuff was Simon's job.

Maybe sleeping here would just push him one more level down, into his sub-subconscious, where he'd achieve oneness with all things. That sounded pretty nice.

And who'd miss him if it went wrong? He was always thinking about what a horrible person he was, how nobody could like him, and how he'd completely failed at everything he'd tried. He wasn't sure he completely believed that, but he believed it enough to make trying the bed out seem like a calculated risk.

No. He was a great person, and a wonderful brother, partner, and father. Well, a wonderful brother and partner. He was a talented cook, his good-natured friendliness won over everyone he met, and he'd saved small portions of Uuu countless times. He'd been places and done things that most people would never dream of. If he died now, the world would be poorer for it.

"Hm." That was weird. Maybe all the negative thought countering had finally caught up with him. All at once.

Anyway, it was nice of him to say to himself, although bordering on conceited, but the bed was still really tempting... Maybe he'd just check what it felt like. He'd probably never get another chance like this. The mattress was just soft enough to mould to his body while being firm enough to stop him from waking up with a sore back in the morning, and whatever the blanket was stuffed with, it was softer than chick-kitten down.

If he fell asleep in this bed, he'd never wake up again. He knew that suddenly, although he couldn't say know how.

In that case, he'd make sure to just lie in it for a few seconds, without going to sleep. He could probably do that. This sudden burst of terror and helplessness he was feeling should keep him awake.

Gunter gulped down the milk, and tucked himself into the bed. He inhaled slowly. "That's... That is even softer than I thought it would be! I thought it would be soft, but this is amazing!" His eyes wanted to close, but he kept them open with an effort.

I command you to leave this bed and wake up!

"You know what, you know I think I can close my eyes, actually," he said. He really wanted to. That would be even more relaxing. "Without sleeping, of course. You know, there's an entire stage between closing your eyes and actually sleeping." He'd open them right away. Well, after a minute or two, once he was satisfied that he could leave an accurate review on the Dream Block City Hotel de Trap website. Bed quality was an important consideration.

Do not close your eyes! Wake up! Wake up!

Gunter closed his eyes, and dreamed.

 

Simon finished the drumroll, which he was pretty proud of. It had been his own contribution to the ritual, and it seemed like he'd got the timing down perfectly twice in a row. Or Gunter wasn't paying enough attention to the drumming to tell whether it was slightly different, but Simon thought it was probably the first one.

"Quickly!" said Gunter. "Let's... Let's get to bed!" He grabbed his plastic bag and headed for the ladder on top of a tower of clones.

Simon followed as closely as he dared, and climbed the bedroom ladder just in time to see Gunter climb into bed.

Simon peered at him from the other side of the room. He wasn't sure if he could get any closer without Gunter detecting him and exploding again. He should have experimented more on distance.

The plastic bag began to glow, and Gunter vanished in a flash of light.

"The bag?" said Simon. He took a running leap at Gunter's bed, hoping the bag was a portal like his instincts suggested. Otherwise he was about to dive into a drawer and break all his fingers.

He didn't break his fingers. Instead, he appeared on a staircase, in a strange city of blocks.

Gunter was wandering down a walkway ahead of him. He said something like "Oh, be patient. Prismo must be... Well, he's further along, isn't he?"

"Gunter!" called Simon, then clapped his hands over his mouth. There was no reason to think he'd caught up to Gunter in real time yet, and he hadn't come this far just to have him explode again. But he had no idea how he was going to be able to tell when he was caught up. Would Gunter start looking more real? He already looked as real as he ever did. He wasn't faded or transparent or anything like that. He was just Gunter.

Distantly, Gunter said "Ooh! There he is! Prismo! Prismo! Wait for me!" and slid off down a hallway.

Simon sprinted after him, but he hadn't got far when a block in the wall slid aside. Inside was Prismo, who put out an arm to stop him. "Simon. Hold up."

Simon stared. "Prismo? But you... You-- Oh, I get it! You're dream resonance!"

Prismo looked uncomfortable. "Uh... No, I'm the real Prismo. I'm actually talking to you from the past. I set up this plan B scenario in case I ever get croaked for reals. So if this is happening, then I guess I croaked, and my anchovies ran out. But Gunter and I established a bro bond that should bring me back through his dreams."

"Are you time-travelling, or are you just predicting everything I'm gonna say?" said Simon, intrigued. Prismo was more about wishes and dreams than time, but he was at least loosely associated with all three.

"Maybe..." Prismo began. "Huh, I don't know. Prediction...?"

"'Cause you have power over possibility!" said Simon. He'd never got much of a chance to question Prismo about the extent of his abilities before, although he wished it had happened in better circumstances.

Prismo glanced around. "Uh... Hurry up, I need your help." He opened up another block in the wall to reveal a passageway, and Simon stepped through.

"What's the deal with Gunter?" said Simon, as they walked. "He won't stop exploding and acting out the past! Is he gonna explode if we talk to him here?"

"Oh, that," said Prismo. "I think it's just a side effect of dreaming a dream from inside your own dream? It's fine, he'll... Uh, it'll be fine."

"Ah, I knew it!" said Simon. That was sort of like what he'd thought. Gunter had got sucked into his own dream somehow, but dreams needed an outside source to maintain themselves. So reality had... picked out earlier versions of Gunter to fill the gap? Yeah, that was probably it. "How did he get in his own dream? His timeline got smeared, right? Is smeared the technical term?"

"Look, Simon," said Prismo, "I don't think I'm supposed to tell singulars about all this. They come down hard on that kind of thing--"

Simon opened his mouth.

"Don't ask who "they" are," Prismo added quickly.

"Okay..." said Simon reluctantly. "Do you still exist in every timeline? Even timelines where you never died? Are you just doing something else right now in those timelines?"

"Simon, I'm serious," said Prismo. "Listen. If you hear about the deets from me, you could, uh... destabilise the balance of the multiverse. You don't want that, right?"

"I guess not..." said Simon. He guessed preserving reality was better than getting easy answers, but he had so many questions. He was beginning to see why Gunter got along so well with Prismo. Gunter rarely asked about this sort of thing, and never pressed the issue.

They walked in silence for a little while. It was a long passageway, and Simon couldn't see any sign of their destination, whatever it was.

Prismo cleared his throat. "So, Simon. How has your day been?"

Simon was too surprised to respond for a second. "Not that great. I didn't sleep good, and my brother keeps exploding."

Prismo nodded. "Right, yeah, of course." He laughed nervously. "Me, I got a couple replies on my dating profile yesterday. I mean, I'm not optimistic, but who knows? They seem nice. One of them eats their pizza crust first, just like me, so, you know, we have that in common."

Simon had heard a little about Prismo's love life from Gunter, but it was still weird to hear him talk about it. What did he care about dating? Globs were supposed to be... Well, it depended on the glob. But they weren't supposed to be active on social media. "Uh... Good luck."

"Hey, thanks, Simon," said Prismo. "I hope you and your girlfriend are doing okay. But don't actually tell me, I can't know anything else about your timeline in case I figure out when I died."

"You really like not knowing things, huh?" said Simon. He couldn't relate. If he'd been able to find out the exact time and place of his death, he... Actually, now that he thought about it, maybe he wouldn't want to know.

"Knowledge is power, Simon," said Prismo. "I can't change the future-- I mean, I can, but you don't really wanna see that-- and I told you, I'm gonna get in trouble."

"But... you're a glob," said Simon. He could accept that globs had metaphysical limitations, but what higher power could the Almighty Prismo possibly have to answer to?

Prismo laughed nervously. "I'm not a glob... I mean... I guess I am? But I... I'm not really a glob."

Simon stared down the hallway, but he still couldn't see where it ended. "Hey. How much longer is this hallway? When are we gonna get where we're going? Where are we going?"

"It's, uh... just a little further," said Prismo. "Don't worry. I'm leading you the right way."

Simon opened his mouth, then closed it again. Prismo sounded a lot like he was lying, but maybe he was just nervous. He was a good friend of Gunter's, and Simon should give him the benefit of the doubt.

Some fish crawled out of the ground like it was water and kept pace with them.

Simon watched them for a while, then said "What are those?" They had elongated bodies and fleshy fins, like lungfish. But Simon was sure that lungfish didn't have such intricate fin joints. He'd been trying to learn to identify different fish by sight, so that he'd stop embarrassing himself in front of his girlfriend so much, but these ones had him stumped.

"What's... huh?" said Prismo. He leaned over to look where Simon was looking. "I don't see anything."

"Those walking fish there," said Simon. He pointed, although Prismo already seemed to be looking in the right direction. "Look!"

Prismo leaned further forward and squinted. "Sorry, Simon, I can't see anything. Are you playing a prank on me or something?"

"No--" Simon began, and the fish dived back into the floor. "Aw, they're gone."

Prismo seemed a little worried. "Well... That could mean... Oh, it'll be okay."

"But what will be okay? What's going on?" Simon wanted to help, but how could he when Prismo wouldn't tell him anything?

Prismo smiled nervously. "I-It?" He pointed ahead, where some more wall blocks were withdrawing to form a new passageway. "Oh, we're here."

This passageway led into a mostly empty room, with one significant thing in it. "Gunter!"

Against the same wall the passageway came out in, there was a bed. Gunter was sleeping in it, which was a little worrying. Simon had thought Gunter knew how dangerous it was to sleep in a dream. And there was a second Prismo on the wall behind Gunter, which was a lot worrying. Prismo's dream-time-wish glob form had been powered by a sleeping old man. Gunter wasn't old or a man, but...

"You've gotta-" Prismo began.

"Hey..." said Simon. "That's you! Is Gunter...? What did you do to him? You turned him into your host body!"

"Actually, you're pretty much--" Prismo said.

Simon took up a fighting stance. He wished he had a weapon, but he didn't know what would work on a glob, especially one with no physical form.

No wonder Prismo had acted so unruffled about his death back then. He must have known the whole time that he was safe, and that Gunter was going to take the old man's place. How could he? "You lied to us!" He was certain that Gunter had never agreed to this. He would have said something.

Prismo drew back. "Simon, calm down. It's--"

"Okay?" yelled Simon. "Was that what you were gonna say? I thought Gunter was your friend! Were you planning this the whole time? Was he ever your friend? You were playing the long game, weren't you!"

Simon looked over at other Prismo to gauge how much of a threat he was, but he didn't even seem to be looking in their direction. Gunter wasn't reacting either, but Gunter had always been a heavy sleeper. If Simon couldn't wake him with his voice alone, he'd just have to go over there. He was determined to commit a cosmic crime today one way or another.

Prismo sputtered for a second, then said "Simon, your job is to wake him up. I swear."

"I'm gonna wak-- Huh?" Simon rubbed his temples. Had Prismo just said..? "I'm supposed to wake him up? That'll help you come back to life? And Gunter will be okay?"

"Yeah," said Prismo. "I'd never sentence Gunter to sleep for eternity. Without asking him first. Now go on and wake him up. Hurry!"

Tentatively, Simon entered the room and approached the bed. "Uh... Hi, other Prismo. I'm sorry I got mad at you. Him."

"Don't worry about it," said Prismo. "You're gonna wake up Gunter, right? Plan B?"

"I--" Simon began, then stiffened as someone came up behind him. A physical someone, not another projection like Prismo. He put his hand to his belt, although he hadn't had nunchucks for a while, and began to turn.

He felt a wrench, and then he didn't really feel much of anything.

 

Prismo faded away, and Gunter opened his eyes. "Oh, hello. I must have dozed off." He yawned, stretched, and closed his eyes again.

Simon shook him harder. "Gunter! Get out of bed, we gotta get out of here! It's dangerous to sleep in a dream."

"M'not sleeping," Gunter mumbled. "Just... testing the bed. A firm... firm, soft..."

Simon gave up and dragged Gunter out of bed.

Gunter looked around. "Oh. Yes. Right. Thank you, Simon. What are you doing in my dream?"

"Prismo had me wake you up--" Simon began.

Gunter ran for the passageway before Simon could finish. "Prismo! I knew he was alive!" He hugged the wall Prismo was projected onto.

"Well, not yet," said Prismo. "Simon, in a second, you've gotta stop yourself from waking up Gunter."

"Me..." said Simon. "So I got smeared too!" He had no idea when that had happened, but it wasn't something you could detect on your own. "But if I interrupt my timeline, won't I explode?"

"Oh shoot!" said Prismo suddenly. "Hide!" He withdrew into the space between the blocks that made up the wall.

Gunter shrunk down to the size of a nail and hit in Simon's waistcoat pocket. Simon scrambled up the wall and wedged himself in the corner between the wall and the ceiling. It wasn't comfortable, but it was the best option in a bare corridor like this.

Another Simon and Prismo walked past. Simon was saying "But what will be okay? What's going on?"

Simon waited until they'd turned the corner, then dropped back to the floor, frowning. He didn't remember saying that on the way here. This Simon's timeline had already diverged, and he didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Prismo emerged from the gap between blocks, and Gunter jumped out of Simon's pocket.

Prismo said "But wait, Gunter, that means one of your alternate reality incarnations will sleep forever to keep me alive."

Gunter looked thoughtful. "You know, I've, I've always wanted to do that?"

Simon actually believed him.

He thought he got it now: Prismo was trying to split Gunter's timeline into one where Simon woke Gunter up from eternal sleep, and one where he didn't. Simon didn't think he liked it, but it was Gunter's decision. He was more concerned about the split in his own timeline.

"And, Simon, I don't know if you'll explode or not," Prismo added. "It's kind of like a divide by zero thing."

"I don't think I have the right to make myself blow up..." said Simon. He'd done a lot of thinking about alternate selves, and he preferred to treat them like separate beings, even when they had almost exactly the same experiences and memories.

"You know what?" said Prismo. "Forget it." He turned to leave.

"Wait!" said Simon. "Gunter's okay with it, so... I'm okay with it too. I don't know you as well as he does, but you're in trouble, and I help people." Also, Prismo's death had probably been his fault, but Gunter had asked him to stop saying that about everything, even when it was true. "And if I was here, I'd say the same thing."

As he spoke, he heard the faint sounds of himself jumping to conclusions about Prismo's intentions. There wasn't much time left.

"Good luck," said Prismo.

Simon waited for the yelling to die down, and cautiously exited the passageway. He'd timed it about right. Simon was still talking to the revived Prismo, and didn't seem to have noticed Simon yet. Simon steeled himself to grab Simon by the shoulder, then hesitated. Now that he was facing the possibility of annihilating himself from realtiy, he wasn't as sure he'd agree to this in his place. Maybe...

The Simon in front of him stiffened and began to turn around, but before he could complete the motion, he rose into the air and exploded. A pair of nunchucks dropped down where he'd been.

Simon stepped back. "Wh-- Huh?" The nunchucks had black handles with shiny green jewels, and a red chain. It was the exact same black as his waistcoat, and the exact same green as his shirt, and the exact same red as his bowtie. What had he done to him?

Even through his confused horror, he was half annoyed that he wasn't stealthy enough to hide from himself, and half pleased that he was perceptive enough to notice when he wasn't alone.

Hesitantly, Simon picked up the nunchucks. They had a familiar feel to them that he couldn't put his finger on. It was books, and stubbornness, and believing people could change for the better. It was worry that he wasn't good enough, and a desire to figure out everything. It was believing the world could change for the better.

"Prismo," he said, looking around at the passageway, but it had closed. He addressed the Prismo above the sleeping Gunter instead. "Prismo. Are these... me?"

"Simon-chucks, dude," said Prismo.

Simon stared into the gems on the handles. His reflection stared back. "Can I bring me back?" They could bring Prismo back. Although Simon wasn't nearly as important as Prismo.

His Gunter slapped him on the back. "Don't worry, Simon, you're already back! After all, you're standing here, aren't you?"

"Alternate mes aren't disposable, Gunter," said Simon. Maybe Gunter's clone thing made him see things differently, but this was totally different from directing a second body. This alternate him had had his own consciousness, and now he was a blunt instrument.

"J--" Gunter began, then stopped as Prismo flickered off for a second. "Prismo, are you all right?"

Prismo reappeared, and then began to distort. He didn't look uncomfortable, but he did look worried.

Simon ran over to the sleeping Gunter, and checked his temperature. He seemed okay, and he was showing no signs of waking up. "Is this normal?" said Simon.

Prismo was blinking on and off like Morse code. "I don't kn--, --de, I've n--er done this bef--. I think... --me --rt of Gunt-- is -ca-ed? --, -a-?"

Simon had to take a second to translate. Sleeping Gunter was... scared? "So you don't really want to sleep forever!" he said to Gunter. It was half a relief.

"No no, that doesn't sound like me..." said Gunter. "Strange. Maybe I don't know myself as well as I thought I did. Well, live and learn, live and learn."

Prismo distorted badly, and the room began to crumble.

"Oh, wait, wait," said Gunter, as bits of yellow dust rained on them. "After your time, Prismo, but I have... Well, I have "depression" now. Is that the problem?"

Prismo turned back to normal for long enough to frown. "Huh, maybe... I think it'll calm down soon-- Gunter, look out!"

A piece of ceiling fell towards them, so Simon batted it away with the nunchucks in his hand. Then he remembered what they were, and who they were. "Oh, clamballs! I'm sorry, me!"

"Don't worry about it, bro," said his own voice. Simon thought it was a third alternate version of himself, and looked around wildly, until he realised it was coming from the nunchucks.

He turned them around in his hands until he caught a glimpse of his own face on one of his handles. "Is... Is that you?" No. It was just his reflection in one of the jewels.

His reflection spoke. "I know you're freaking out. I would be freaking out in your shoes, and I'm you. But it's fine. I don't... I don't think I'm fully sapient anymore. I don't want anything. I'm just... me."

"Huh?" was all Simon could think of to say.

"You don't have to feel guilty about this," said his reflection.

Simon stared.

He was dimly aware that the corridor had stabilised, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from himself.

Prismo said "I think I'm okay now. Gunter, man, I'm sorry to hear you're depressed. Is there anything I can do? I had this friend once, he kept pretending everything was fine, and then the whole solar system he was in charge of? It exploded. I wonder whatever happened to that guy..."

Gunter sounded embarrassed. "Oh, I've just about got it under control. No need to worry about me."

"If you ever need to talk..." said Prismo.

"Of course," said Gunter. "Yes. Absolutely."

Simon tore his eyes away from his new himself-chucks, and noticed that it wasn't Gunter sleeping in the bed anymore. It was old man Prismo.

Well, why not? He knew he was going to have some kind of mental breakdown once he'd processed all this, but for now, he was just glad Prismo was alive again.

Chapter Text

The Year of the Flood
September

Lakes were so much grosser to be in than the sea. Rivers weren't great either, though they usually had faster currents that carried the grossness away before it could build up. And they were all so... stale. Without salt, the water barely tasted of anything, except maybe algae. The land dwellers called this stuff freshwater, and that was such a joke.

Sitting at the bottom of this muddy mountain lake was probably not helping Betty's mood. On the other hand, it was distracting her from what she was really upset about, which was how badly she'd lost control in her fight with Finn-Ice. It had been a couple of weeks now, but she still wasn't over it, and she couldn't even talk about it with Simon, because he didn't seem to understand what the big deal was. Or at least he didn't understand why she'd be upset.

Maybe Simon was right, and he was totally to blame for what had happened. Maybe what she decided to do had never mattered, and her dad had been right to put her in prison to keep her from hurting anyone. Maybe she'd been deluding herself by thinking anything else.

She'd been to this lake once before. Simon had taken her here when they'd first met, and she'd hoped coming back would give her some insight. But it was just a boring, gross lake, which had seemed a lot nicer last time she'd been here. Maybe it was because it wasn't winter this time. She could believe that if she tried.

What if things didn't work out with Simon? Betty didn't even know if they were still together. They hadn't spoken since the argument, and other than her dad, he was the only thing keeping her away from the Ocean Kingdom. Well, Simon, her dad, and her research, but she was running out of favours to call in to smuggle her books out of the royal library. The punishments for that were severe.

Someone plunged into the water behind her, and Betty jumped and turned around.

"Whoa, hey! Betty, right?" It was a grey-skinned land dweller that Betty vaguely recognised.

"Queen... Marceline?" She was the queen of the Monster Kingdom, a particularly powerful kingdom in Uuu's north. She was also a good friend of Simon's.

"Weird weather, huh?" said Marceline, who didn't seem bothered by being out of the air. Maybe she was using waterbreathing magic, but she was some variety of undead, so maybe she just didn't breath.

"What?" said Betty. She looked upwards. The sky had darkened since she'd come up here, and it seemed to be raining mud. That was weird. Weather was one of the few surface things she had a pretty instinctive understanding of, and usually it rained water, frozen water, or sharp implements. Not mud. She reached out to it with her powers to confirm. "is that... Ice cream?" It was cold, and it contained milk, cocoa, and sugar. It was definitely chocolate ice cream.

"Yeah, it's like this whole thing," said Marceline. "I'm trying not to think about it."

Betty could understand that.

"Hey, you look like you could use some distracting too," said Marceline. "I'm on my way to a party in the Monster Kingdom. You should totally come along." She held out her hand.

Betty narrowed her eyes at her. She had a hard time believing that Marceline had just happened to be passing when they were halfway up a mountain. Had Simon sent her to check up on her? No, that wasn't his style. Besides, there was no way Marceline didn't know what Betty had done to the Ice Kingdom. Most of Uuu knew by now. She had enough motivation on her own to want to check up on her.

But Marceline was right that she needed to take her mind off things. And even if it was a trap, it was better than staying in this muddy and increasingly sugary lake. "Sure."

 

Betty rolled her watery covering into another room and leaned against the wall. Being on land was exhausting. Gravity was everywhere, always trying to pull her water into a puddle and suffocate her in the air. She was getting better at fighting it, but she doubted she'd ever be completely comfortable up here.

Having to deal with gravity was sort of distracting her from her problems, but the party itself was a bust. She'd tried networking with Slime Princess, but hadn't got much further than agreeing that they were both princesses before she'd given up. What did it matter if she had good relations with other rulers? She was just going to break stuff and hurt people. What if next time, she hurt someone she liked? What if she hurt Simon?

This room was small, but it seemed nice and empty. It wasn't a huge party, and mostly seemed to be happening in the living room and kitchen. She doubted anyone was going to come looking for her. And there was what appeared to be a cage on the far side of the room, with some sort of bird sitting on a perch. Maybe she could pet it. She'd heard that was a good excuse to be alone at a party.

As she got closer to the cage, the bird resolved itself into a vaguely bird-shaped lump of black wool and white spider silk. It had a piece of plastic stuck into the head part as a beak.

"Whoa," she said. She reached in and petted it tentatively. "Close enough?"

There was a gasp behind her. "You like my pet bird? His name is Gunter, but he's not a penguin. He's a petrel."

Betty jumped, and turned around. If she'd been underwater, she would have known there was someone behind her. But she was on land. She kept forgetting she had to rely on her eyes and ears on land.

The speaker was a giant, fuzzy spider that Betty vaguely remembered being introduced to earlier. His name was Jumping Spider, and he was the party's host.

"I couldn't get a penguin because all the penguins talk," continued Jumping Spider.

Betty wasn't sure what to say. "Uh... So... You like petrels?" She was surprised he knew about them. Petrels were seabirds that rarely travelled to the land, and in Betty's mostly Simon-based experience, land dwellers usually only had the most basic knowledge of the ocean.

"Seabirds are cool," said Jumping Spider. "You don't like parties?" he added. "Me neither."

Betty frowned. "This is your party, dude." She couldn't figure out what this guy's angle was. Maybe he was just an idiot.

"Yeah," said Jumping Spider. "You know who does like parties? Queen Marceline likes parties. Are you friends with Queen Marceline?"

"I don't know," said Betty. "I just met her. She seems... nice?"

"She's nice," Jumping Spider agreed. "She's not very good at being a queen. She always parties instead of solving problems." He laughed, like that was a joke.

Betty frowned again. "What do you mean?" Simon hadn't mentioned that, but now that she thought about it, he'd never really talked about Marceline's queening at all. He always just described good times he'd had with her that Betty hadn't been there for.

"I dunno," said Jumping Spider.

She should have expected that. "Look, sometimes nothing you do matters. Why shouldn't you party?" She knew she wasn't talking about Marceline anymore, but it felt good to finally say it out loud.

"Uh..." said Jumping Spider. "What?"

"If you're just gonna break stuff and hurt people, why shouldn't you party and not do anything?" said Betty.

"Ohhh," said Jumping Spider. "You can't do anything? Wow. That must be really bad for you."

He didn't sound all that sincere, but it was hard to tell with the weird way he spoke. What was more important to Betty was that he hadn't told her that of course what she did mattered, or that what had happened wasn't her fault.

Validation from an idiot was still validation. And he'd picked up that she'd been talking about herself, so maybe he wasn't as much of an idiot as she'd thought. "I mean, I nearly killed Finn-Ice. Simon likes him! I think." As she spoke, she gestured out the window at the Ice Kingdom, which was still melted and flooded. And, for some reason, glowing, although Betty didn't think she could claim responsibility for that. "And Simon thinks it's his fault! Everything I do is someone else's fault. This is just like before. Why did I even bother to leave home? I don't know what I'm gonna do if me and Simon have to break up." Maybe they weren't the mildly star-crossed soulmates she'd always thought they were.

"Simon is nice," volunteered Jumping Spider.

"Yeah," said Betty. "He's nice. But does he have to blame himself for everything? I know, he had a bad childhood, but I had a bad childhood too!" She hesitated. "But I don't really know anyone else on the surface. And I'd do anything for him." She sighed. "I guess I'm just jealous. He's got such a great future, and I... don't."

No, she wasn't jealous. She was... frustrated? She felt like nothing had changed since she'd left home, and nothing was going to change. She was dangerous and isolated, and she was going to stay dangerous and isolated, forever.

"You're a princess," said Jumping Spider. "You can be like Marceline! In the future. Right?"

"Partying and never solving problems?" said Betty.

"Yeah!" said Jumping Spider.

Betty still couldn't really read him. "I can't go home, man. If I went home, dad would definitely make me go back to the tank. I'm too dangerous! I just proved that."

She thought about it for another second, and then said "Actually... It would matter if I... And I'd have more responsibility... and the library..." She couldn't help smiling.

Jumping Spider gasped, and said "You're going to go back and overthrow your dad!"

Betty didn't know how he'd got that from what she'd said, but she said "That's right! Thanks for giving me the idea, Jumping Spider."

Jumping Spider stared at her for a second, then said "We're friends" in a relevatory tone.

Betty opened her mouth to say that they weren't, and that they'd just met, but she found she didn't want to upset him. "Yeah. We're friends." Maybe it was time she met more surface people.

 

The Ocean Kingdom wasn't as big as the Monster Kingdom, but it was a lot friendlier looking, in Jumping Spider's opinion. And prettier, too. He liked the wavy houses on the city outskirts. You didn't get things like that on land.

Breathing underwater was pretty similar to breathing on land, except he'd needed to create a bubble of air with silk and fit it around his abdomen first. He'd heard about sea spiders, and thought maybe that meant spiders could breathe anything without any problems, but apparently not. Betty, who was very smart, had told him about rivers spiders that made diving abdomen-helmets out of silk, so he'd just done that. It was weird, but it was actually a little easier to breathe like this than normal.

As they entered the centre of the city, a silver-scaled fish swam up to them, looked them over, and yelled "It's the princess! The princess is back! With a horrible monster from the surface!"

Jumping Spider looked around for the horrible monster. Maybe it was that weird wiggly-legged starfish scuttling towards them? But that seemed a bit judgemental.

Betty had covered her ears. She uncovered them. "Hi." She looked around at the small crowd that was developing, and added "If any of you guys even think the word "kidnapping", I'm going back to the surface."

"It's the king!" called the same fish as before. "Alone! With a spoon!"

Everyone turned to look at a long-tailed merman with a crown. He looked pretty angry, and he was holding a small spoon.

Betty smiled, a little nervously, and said "Your majesty, hi. Did I spoil your desert?"

The king looked at the spoon in his hand, and dropped it. It slowly sank down to the seafloor. "Don't give me that snark, young lady. So you finally learned your lesson?"

"No," said Betty.

"I kept your tank the way you left it," the king began, then said "What do you mean, no?"

"I'm not coming back with my tail between my legs," said Betty.

The king looked puzzled. His mouth moved as he looked at Betty, then at Jumping Spider.

"It's a land saying," said Betty. "Never mind. I'm not here to go back to jail."

"It's not jail!" the king protested. "It's a developmental tool endorsed by several child psychologists that allows you to explore your nascent abilities in a safe environment!"

"Whatever," said Betty. "I've "developmental-ed" beyond that. I'm here to challenge you for the throne."

A gasp went up from the crowd. Jumping Spider looked around at them, and gasped as well, a little late.

"No you're not," said the king. "You know the penalty for failure."

"What's the penalty?" said Jumping Spider. Nobody had said anything to him about a penalty.

Betty didn't seem to have heard him. "Yes. I know the penalty."

"What's the penalty?" said Jumping Spider again.

"Exile," said the king. "The penalty for a failed challenge is exile. She has no idea--"

"You're gonna be exiled?" said Jumping Spider. That was pretty harsh. If Betty won, the king would lose his throne, and if she lost, he'd lose his home? Why did they even have a law like that?

"No, not him, me!" said Betty. "If I win, he loses the throne, but if I lose, I can't ever come back here."

"But..." said Jumping Spider. "You're from here. That's a bad law." They didn't have laws like that at home. He thought. He could never remember what was a real law and what people did just because they thought it was a good idea.

"It's meant as a deterrent," said the king. "But it's obviously not working. You're being ridiculous, Betty."

"I know the law, dad," said Betty. "I'm an adult now, and I'm first in the line of succession! You can't refuse a challenge from your primary heir."

"I knew I should have raised the age of majority," the king muttered. "Betty, listen to me. You're my daughter. I don't want to have to exile you. Stop this, and come home."

"I'll see you at the Waters of Proving and Postulating," said Betty, and swam away from the crowd.

Jumping Spider swam after her. "Bye, your majesty!" he called.

After a few silent seconds, Jumping Spider realised that the challenge might not be the intense video game tournament he was envisioning. "What are you gonna do in the challenge?" he asked.

"Oh," said Betty. "Regular ocean stuff. Underwater wrestling."

Jumping Spider's mental image was replaced by ostentatious muscley men hitting each other with folding chairs. "Oh, that's cool."

"Dad is better than me," said Betty. "But I know I'm stronger. I was stronger even before I left." She sighed. "The last person I fought was Simon's heart, and he was a joke."

Jumping Spider assumed that was a metaphor, although he wasn't smart enough to understand what it meant. But it was probably very deep and romantic.

"But, I've been practising," Betty continued. "I know his special moves. They've been the same since I was little. I think I can beat him now."

She didn't sound completely certain.

"What will do if you lose and get exiled away from home forever?" said Jumping Spider. He'd assumed that Betty would definitely win, until she'd said all that.

Betty shrugged. "I guess I'll get really good at partying."

"Oh, okay." He was glad the stakes were so low.

 

Simon dug some stray ice out from behind his ear. That really could have gone better. But at least the Ice Kingdom was safe. Still melted and flooded, but safe.

"That was algebraic!" said Finn-Ice. "We should hang out more often!" He was walking next to Simon. Gunter was on Simon's other side, and Marceline was floating above and a little ahead.

"Sorry about all that," said Gunter. "I don't know what I was thinking."

"Don't blame yourself, Gunter!" said Finn-Ice cheerfully. "Blame Jake! He's been a very bad boy."

"Maybe we shouldn't have let him keep the crown," said Simon. Gunter had obviously scared Jake when he'd put on the crown, but despite Gunter's apologies, Simon could tell he'd mostly been bluffing. If Jake was smart enough to figure that out, there could be problems.

"It's a good thing Cool Zombie Dog Princess was there," said Finn-Ice.

Marceline gave an embarrassed laugh. "I should have been here from the start. I just-- woah!" A flying, disembodied ice tentacle smacked into her, and she grabbed it in a chokehold.

Simon looked up, and decided it was probably a one-man fight. "Finn-Ice, listen. I know you're homeless right now until Jake finishes rebuilding the Ice Kingdom." He didn't think Jake should have to be the one to rebuild it, but Finn-Ice shouldn't either, and Simon couldn't see any end to that conversation that didn't involve offering to put on the crown and rebuild it himself. Maybe he was a coward, but he couldn't bear to even consider that.

 

Her dad rushed her from out of the gloom, and she stretched out her hands and turned the current against him. He started to negate it with his own power, but not soon enough to stop him from going flying. He slammed against the opposite side of the arena, and she swam after him, eager to press her advantage.

 

"I've been sleeping rough," Finn-Ice replied. "Living off the land. Settling down wherever my feet take me."

Simon was pretty sure Finn-Ice had been spending most of his time in seedy Monster Kingdom hotels, but didn't say so. "Well, I feel awful about what happened, and me and Gunter want you to know that you can always stay with us if you need to."

Gunter wasn't as okay with that as Simon pretended, but he'd reluctantly agreed when they'd talked about it earlier.

Finn-Ice gave him a strange look. "Uh... Why?"

Simon pushed down his annoyance, and said "Because you're homeless."

"No, I mean, why do you feel terrible?" said Finn-Ice. "It wasn't your fault. It was, uhh..." He looked up at the sky for a second. "Your crazy ex's fault! Yeah!"

"She's not crazy!" said Simon, louder than he'd intended. "Or my ex! We just had a fight. Okay?" He didn't know how to make things better without apologising, which she didn't seem to want him to do. He wanted to fix things, but he had no idea how.

"Ooh, riiiiight," said Finn-Ice. "It was your sane, current girlfriend's fault."

"The whole thing it was my idea," said Simon. He didn't really want to go into the dreams that had sparked all this. He was beginning to think he shouldn't even have told Gunter. "I tried to tell her I was sorry for messing everything up, but she just got mad at me."

Finn-Ice frowned. "You told her that? No wonder she got mad. Why didn't you tell me, your best friend and closest confidant in the whole of Uuu and also the entire universe and who you think of as, like, a cool uncle," he took a deep breath, "earlier?"

"You were there!" said Simon.

"Man," continued Finn-Ice. "You need to talk someone who knows about this kinda jazz. Maybe Simone."

"Finn, I don't need to talk to a girl version of me that you made up," said Simon. He'd thought being away from the crown made Finn-Ice a little more lucid, but today he was as confused as ever.

"If she was here, she'd say something like..." Finn-Ice frowned, and put on a falsetto. "'Stop calling your girlfriend crazy, she's just messed up in the melon from spending her entire childhood in a tank and she doesn't like it when you take credit for something she did even if it was something bad.'" He took another deep breath, and went back to his normal voice. "Wow! So wise!"

Simon made a face at Gunter.

 

She struggled in her dad's grip. He'd wrapped his tail around her, and was squeezing the water from her lungs. She couldn't breathe. If she didn't break out soon, she'd pass out, and he'd win by default. She couldn't breathe.

 

Gunter did not make a face back. He looked thoughtful.

"What?" said Simon.

"She... I mean he... He has a point," said Gunter.

Simon made another face.

"I didn't want to say anything," said Gunter. "I thought it might upset you."

"I'm plenty upset already, Gunter," said Simon.

Gunter looked worried. "The fact is... You do tend to... Make... No, no, I mean, you think... you think everything that goes wrong is your fault."

"It usually is!" Simon protested.

Gunter shook his head. "You can sometimes... put yourself at the centre of events that." He cleared his throat. "Don't involve you."

Simon managed to figure out what Gunter was avoiding saying. "You think I'm selfish too?" First Betty, and now Gunter. Maybe they were right. He really was no hero.

There was a loud shattering noise from above, and small pieces of ice rained down on them. Marceline floated back down to ground level. "Of course we don't think you're selfish. Right, Gunter? And Simon, Betty's gonna be fine. She was still a little messed up this morning, so I invited her to a party. I think she was into it."

Simon didn't think that would help, but didn't say so. He couldn't trust himself to know anything about Betty's reactions anymore.

"Oh, no, I don't mean to say you're selfish," said Gunter. "More like... the opposite of selfish, what's the opposite of selfish?"

"Buybird!" said Finn-Ice immediately.

"No, no, that's not it..." said Gunter. "You... you only do it when it's something bad."

Simon thought for a second. Gunter thought he was... selfish about assuming blame? That he took responsibility for things that weren't really his fault? That did sound like something he'd do. But he couldn't see why that was a bad thing. Nobody liked taking the blame.

Although... Simon suddenly remembered Betty ranting about how she'd never got to do anything herself until she'd moved out. He remembered her burning her hand in an experiment, and excitedly telling him about it afterwards. He remembered her trying to fix some delicate, cursed scientific equipment that had recently come into her possession, destroying it, and shrugging it off. He wouldn't call her crazy, or even "messed up in the melon," but she did seem like having the chance to try more than she minded failing.

 

She hadn't had to focus her powers like this in so long. She was exhausted, and yet her dad seemed fine, from what she could see of him in the dimness. He was faking. He had to be. She was ready to collapse, and she was stronger than him. If he was as tired as she was, she could use the last of her strength to pin him and win the match. If he wasn't...

What choice did she have? She raised her hands, and lowered them again, bringing the weight of five hundred feet of water directly onto her dad.

 

He was still pretty sure he was at fault for putting the idea of fighting Finn-Ice in her head, but if Betty wanted to take the blame for the stuff she'd done, maybe Simon should let her. He didn't understand why it would upset her, but maybe he just had to understand that it did. "Guys," he said, "I gotta go apologise to Betty."

"Okay, I'll do it!" said Finn-Ice suddenly. "I'll room with you in your treehouse of wonders!" He jumped into the air like he was trying to fly, fell on his face, got up, and ran away. "Whoosh!"

Marceline watched him go, and said "Doesn't he need a key?"

"He already has one," said Simon distractedly. "Marcy, did you say you saw her today?"

 

Simon wasn't surprised to find that Betty wasn't at the party anymore. She wasn't a very social person. What was surprising was that she'd apparently left with Jumping Spider, who Simon was pretty sure she'd never even met until today.

But that still wasn't as surprising as where she'd gone, according to the note Jumping Spider had left on his birdcage.

"Why would she go back to the Ocean Kingdom?" said Simon, as he and Marceline stared at the note. Gunter had gone home to remind Finn-Ice he didn't need to keep breaking their windows to get in.

Had Betty given up? If Simon had done that to her by blaming himself... Wait, should he feel bad about that or not? He'd have to ask her when he saw her. If he saw her. When he saw her.

Marceline picked up the note and sniffed it. "Hm. It's still fresh. Maybe we can catch up with them."

Despite the situation, Simon had to laugh. "Marcy, you can't smell that." She had a lot of powers, but enhanced smell was not one of them.

"Hey, you don't know everything about me," said Marceline, with a smile that made it obvious she was joking. "But we better go after them."

 

As they swam closer to the Ocean Kingdom and there was still no sign of Betty, Simon finally couldn't even pretend to be distracted by the jokes and anecdotes Marceline was trying to distract him with.

"I can't believe Betty went back home. If her dad put her back in the tank..." He clenched his fists. He'd been struggling with his temper a lot lately, but right now, that seemed like a good thing.

"Try not to cause an international incident, dude," said Marceline, smiling.

With an effort, Simon smiled as well. "I'll tell them I'm not a viscount first." He hadn't been back to the Ocean Kingdom since his first visit, and he'd never been clear on whether he was allowed back. It was his fault the library had been destroyed.

Or maybe it was Betty's fault.

They made it through the city outskirts, and into the more solid city centre. Nobody stopped them, or even seemed to care they were there.

"Wow, this place has changed since the last time I was here," said Marceline, looking around. "What happened to the brain coral farms? I swear there used to be brain coral farms." She pointed at a patchwork of green and orange fields of what appeared to be seaweed.

Simon tried to remember what Betty had told him about Ocean Kingdom history as they swam up the side of the palace to the main entrance. She'd said something about ecology and climate change... Something about ocean currents? "Brain coral hasn't grown here for, uh... three hundred years."

"Man," said Marceline. "I've been slacking off."

They reached the top of the palace to find two sharkmen guarding the entrance, just like last time Simon had been here.

"Hey!" said one of them. "How are you here already? We haven't even left yet!" He looked at his partner. "Did we already leave and come back?"

The other guard shook his head.

"Weird," said the first sharkman. He looked at Simon. "You've been summoned. You can just go in. You too, queeny."

Simon and Marceline looked at each other, and went in.

"Do you think she's in jail again?" said Simon, as they floated down the main shaft to the throne room. "Why would her dad summon me?"

"Whatever happens, I got your back, Simon," said Marceline.

Simon smiled. Obviously she wasn't that worried about international incidents.

Simon was prepared for a fight when he entered the throne room. He wasn't prepared to see Betty on the throne, and the king floating behind her, looking disgruntled.

"Simon!" said Betty. "You came! Oh, hi, Marceline."

The Ocean King coughed. Or was he just Betty's dad now? He and Betty both had crowns, but only Betty was on the throne. Had she actually usurped him? How? Why?

Betty rolled her eyes. "Queen Marceline."

"Hey," said Marceline. "Looks like you ranked up last time I saw you."

Betty shrugged and said "I won a wrestling match."

"I let her win," said Betty's dad.

"No you didn't," said Betty, almost before he'd finished talking.

Simon had spent a lot of time thinking about what he'd say to Betty the next time he saw her, but he'd never expected her to overthrow her father and become the queen of the ocean. That made every one of his ideas obsolete. Maybe he should just be direct. "Betty, I'm sorry."

"What for?" said Betty carefully.

Simon sighed. "I'm sorry for trying to apologise for things I didn't do. It was wrong of me."

Betty sat up straighter. "Wait, really? Simon..." She cleared her throat. "You're not mad at me?"

"Why would I be mad at you?" said Simon. She had much more right to be upset at him.

Betty started to say something, then seemed to change her mind. "Listen, Simon, I'm gonna be really busy from now on and I have to know. Are we still together?"

"Y... Yeah!" said Simon. "Yeah, of course!" This was so much less painful than he'd thought it was going to be. But he didn't know what to think about her becoming queen. He'd been a king once, and it hadn't agreed with him. Would Betty still be allowed to do all the things she wanted to do? What if she changed her mind? Would abdicating put her dad back on the throne?

A silk-clad Jumping Spider entered the room in a panic. "Betty! I forgot! Who was I supposed to summon?"

"It's okay," said Betty. She pointed at Simon. "He's here already."

"Hey, Jumping Spider," said Marceline. "You defecting to the Ocean Kingdom?"

Betty's dad stared her down. "Is that a question or a threat?"

"Glob, you Ocean Kingdom guys are so official," Marceline complained. "Jumping Spider can do what he wants."

"Simon," said Betty. "I... have a question for you. I know what you do is important... I can get any book you want from the library... Queening is gonna be hard..."

"Yeah?" said Simon, who had no idea what she was getting at. She couldn't be breaking up with him, could she? After she'd just asked if they were still together? She couldn't be that cruel.

"Do you wanna move in with me?" Betty said it all in one breath, like she wanted to get it over with.

"What?!" said her dad.

Betty was going to keep Simon permanently off-balance if she kept this up. He stammered for a bit before managing to say "I-I can't yet. Sorry, Betty." He couldn't articulate his exact reasons, but part of it was that he didn't want to get so serious right after making up from their first real fight.

Betty looked disappointed, but didn't seem that surprised. "Are you sure? I think I've figured out how to set up a permanent water breathing situation. How attached are you to breathing air...?"

"There's too much I gotta do on land," said Simon, although right now he couldn't think of a single thing. "And Finn-Ice-- I just invited him to stay at my place." He was about to add that it was his fault Finn-Ice lost his home, but stopped himself just in time. "Maybe in a couple years." The idea was tempting, but in a potential future way, not in a right now way.

Betty took a deep breath. "It's okay. We're not much further apart than we were before."

"Good," said her dad. "You might be queen now, but you're still my daughter, and you're not throwing your life away for some fickle, land-dwelling human."

Betty snorted. "Simon would never abandon me. I told you before, I love him, and this time it's true."

Simon was touched. "I... I love you too, Betty."