Alex Reynard
The Library
Alex Reynard's Online Books
101
He was drowning. Suffocating. Interred in a living coffin of grinding, sloshing flesh. The stench of burnt plastic. The darkness. The tightening crush on his crumbling skeleton. This was for keeps now. This was forever. He'd failed and she had him. This time everyone would
Toby's eyes opened. He was in a completely unfamiliar bedroom with his heartbeat thundering and the blankets clutched tight in his paw.
He took deep breaths to calm his nerves.
The mouse didn't know where he was, but at least it was nice. A small, yellow bedroom not much bigger than a closet. Big soft mattress beneath him. Royal blue blankets surrounding. There wasn't much else in the room besides an end table. On it was a vase with a yellow rose, a plate of cookies, and a note. Toby could read it from where he was lying:
Good morning! Take your time, I'm not watching.
It was signed with an R. and a whiskered smiley face. Toby smiled back. His facial muscles ached. Heck, everything did. At least he felt rested.
From elsewhere in the house he could hear a steady, muffled beat and people talking over it. A party.
Toby tried to sit up. His right arm didn't want to cooperate. It existed again, but now it had a new problem. As he pulled the blankets down, he saw that it had mutated into a gargantuan steel fist, clutched around a comparatively-tiny hammer. The metal looked like it had been flying as a liquid, then suddenly snapped to solidity. Reflective silver rivulets streaked through the fur all the way to his elbow. He tried to lift it. "Whoof." Heavy as a bowling ball.
He tried to make it change back. He nudged the hammer with his mind, but it wouldn't retract. His arm had become a statue.
He wasn't too worried though. It'd go back to normal after a while. It was probably just tired. He couldn't really blame it.
Scooting to the edge of the bed, he blushed to realize that he'd been undressed before being tucked in. He still had his undies though. He looked around for his clothes and found them neatly folded on the closest chair. Allright then. However, looking down at himself, he wasn't sure they'd fit now. He was skin and bone again. His legs were toothpicks. His left hand looked as flimsy as a leaf. He reached up to touch his face. Euggh. 'I need to find a mirror.'
Toby grunted as he stood up. His muscles felt very old. What had he been doing? Scaphis. Oh god, Scaphis. The fight had been gone from his mind until just now, but one little peek opened the floodgates. The room seemed suddenly smaller. Shrinking. His heartrate sparked. Where was she now? Where were his friends!?
'Stop. Stop! You're obviously safe, and they are too. You're in Rebecca. The war's over. Your plan worked out and she made herself a house again and everything's okay. That's probably what those sounds are in the other room. People celebrating.'
Toby rubbed his face with his remaining hand for a moment. It was impossible to believe he'd really succeeded. To spend so long planning, and to have that moment actually come and pass... His mind could accept it but his emotions still insisted on high alert. Toby lurched towards the end table and nearly drank the vase water. Instead he stuffed a cookie in his mouth. That was better. Soft and chocolatey. Fresh-baked, or imaginited. Soothing. 'That's right. Calm down. I can actually let myself relax now.'
But still his muscles vibrated with tension. His pupils were hugely dilated. He didn't think relaxation was something he'd be able to reach again for a long, long time.
He barely noticed when all the cookies were gone. He cocked his head at the empty plate. He licked his lips: the evidence was there. "Huh."
He guessed if everyone else was out there, he probably shouldn't stay in here much longer. Though part of him did want to just lie down again and go back to sleep. This was like the pain-echoes after a death, but much stronger. Exhaustion echoes. The dull background throb of having exerted himself far past his limits. Plus, he didn't even know what he looked like anymore. Maybe his friends wouldn't want to see him like this.
'No.' Even if he was now the Anasarca Ugliness Champion, he knew his friends would want to be with him. Just as much as the reverse was true.
Toby padded to the exit and clicked it open. The music jumped up like he'd turned a volume knob instead of a doorknob.
He poked his head out. Dark, but lights were bright around the corner. This was the end of a hallway with many slim doors crammed in beside each other. He stepped out onto the cushy carpet and finally realized he was barefoot. Did he want to go back for his sandals? Nah. He wanted to find a bathroom.
The door across from him was as likely as any other. Toby opened it and his eyebrows went up.
Inside the cramped little closet, sandy spotted fur was grinding against colorfully-lit white plastic.
Ike opened an eye at the change in light. He saw Toby and wriggled a hand from around Janie to give the mouse a thumbs-up. "Heyyy, look who it is! Nice job on Scaphis, man."
Janie's head swiveled. Her colors flared like fire. "You will not say a word about this to anyone," she thunder-whispered.
Toby simply nodded in compliance and shut the door.
"Lookin' for something, kiddo?" came a familiar voice from nowhere.
Toby turned around. "Oh. Hi, Becky." He winced. "Becca! Sorry. Now she's got me doing it."
A snorting giggle. "S'okay. It stings a lot less when it's not her voice."
It felt odd to be addressing the walls. "I was, um, looking for a bathroom?"
"I don't have one, remember? Would you want someone peeing in you?"
Toby made a 'fair point' noise. "I just wanted a mirror, actually."
"Okay, that's easy. Lemme rearrange one over here for you... There." She opened the door to his right.
"Cool." He started to head inside, then stopped and looked back out again. "Thank you for the cookies. And I'm glad to see you're back to 'normal', I guess."
Rebecca chuckled. "No problem. I've been a domicile so long, it was a piece of cake to puzzle myself back to it."
"Good. Also, um, how long was I asleep?"
"About eleven hours."
He blinked in surprise. Though, that felt about right. He had that slept-too-long-and-now-inexplicably-wanted-more-sleep feeling. He nodded to Becca and stepped through the doorway.
A light turned on. This was a storage nook full of labeled boxes, framed pictures, record albums, and old Christmas decorations. Toby was standing in front of a full-length ornamental mirror.
He barely recognized his reflection.
It reminded him of the front yard doubling effect as he walked towards himself. Or rather, as a gaunt, gutless phantom with eyes the color of cranberry juice did. He was definitely skinny again. Hopefully that would change in time, along with the horribly-bruised canyon in his abdomen.
He ran his hand along his hip, up into the rim of the gaping scoop. It was furred inside, just empty. The skin was plum purple, though not too sore. He could reach inside all the way to his backbone. Leaning over further, he could feel inside his ribcage. Hollow as an attic. 'I literally puked my guts out,' he realized. He had a shivery feeling this might be permanent. That he had so completely divested himself of his past that this was the consequence.
He thought back to his days in the sticky bed, quarantined, taking pills while his mother scrubbed the floors. None of it bothered him much anymore.
He looked at his eyes. The tear-streaks from Scarlatina were still there, though faded a bit. His cheekbones were very visible. His neck looked like an old sock with a broom handle inside. And his eyes were significantly past bloodshot. Every part of them was red. The whites were barely-discernible from the irises, and the pupils looked like the pimento in an olive. They were surrounded by heavy purple bags. And was there a flicker of light way at the back of them? Hard to tell if that was just a reflection, or if he'd absorbed a little bit of George somehow.
Toby stepped back. Assessing himself in total, he sighed. His massive steel sculpture of an arm looked like it contained more mass than the rest of him combined. A summer breeze might knock him over. He rubbed around inside his bowl of a torso again. "I guess I can pour cereal in it," he quipped. He didn't laugh.
'I don't know if I was ever handsome, but I'm certainly not soft anymore. I look like a pile of Q-tips. But, I mean... if this is the price of saving the world from Scaphis... Okay. I can live with this. If Piffle can be a fly, I guess I can be a scarecrow.'
He nodded to himself and left the room to seek his friends.
The music guided his way. It was a happy song, maybe a little too uptempo for how he was feeling Toby wove his way along the hallways towards the bright light spilling in from the livingroom. He peeked his head around the archway.
There were a lot more people here than he expected.
Rippingbean and Woofingbutter looked resplendent in tuxedos as they sipped champagne from one another's glasses. Junella was showing off her sword to the Xenoikos. Tía Lopez was spiking the punch with something nice. George looked like he was in the middle of a thrilling retelling. Luxy was beside Aldridge's globe, hunched over and peering at it, deep in thought. Darting around everyone's legs were two giggling diapered infants with wisps of beards. 'Waxacada and Driuwej?' Toby guessed. Chasing after them came a miniaturized rustbeast. Red had been made pet-size to join the party.
There in the corner was Aldridge, looking very much the wallflower. Some of the Bargeld were pressing him with eager questions. From his posture Toby could tell the wizard was responding with considerable modesty. Rebecca was standing beside him, having fashioned a walkable body out of carpet and curtains.
Toby was debating how to make an entrance, when a roaring voice suddenly overpowered the music.
"THERE HE IS!!! THERE'S MY BEST FUCKING FRIEND IN THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD!!!" Zinc vaulted over a coffee table and literally plowed guests out of the way.
Before Toby could flee, he was captured in a rib-destroying hug. The ecstatic mutt's tail was a whirlwind.
"I'm glad to see you too but you are killing me," Toby wheezed.
Zinc stepped back to let his friend breathe a little. "Sorry! Overexcited!" He kissed the mouse on the cheek. "Whoa, shit! Looks like Bonky got some radioactive mutations goin' on."
"Please stop calling my hammer that," Toby said reflexively.
By now the entire crowd had converged upon him. Like quicksand, Toby was swallowed up in hugs, hearty pats, kind words and smiles. He tried to smile back, but mostly he was feeling overwhelmed. Though, amongst the forest of well-wishing arms and torsos, he caught a glimpse of orange record labels looking back at him fondly.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the man of the hour himself!" Luxy announced. Drink in hand, he oiled himself through the throng and held Toby's right arm up like a winning prizefighter. "Let's give this conquering hero three cheers! No, fuck that! He deserves more! At least seven!!"
As the crowd bellowed raucously, the raccoon lifted Toby up to whisper-height. "Good job out there, rodent. You saved all our asses. And, my goodness, have you been on a diet?"
Toby chuckled weakly. "Brief turbo-bulimia," he replied.
Luxy sniggered. He set the mouse down where a fuzzy cheek immediately nuzzled against his.
Piffle cooed. "You did it, Toby."
"Indeed, Sire. I am very proud of you," George added.
Toby had thought he was too burnt-out to get misty-eyed. He was happily wrong.
Rippingbean and Woofingbutter muscled themselves closer. "My dear boy, your plan executed itself splendidly!" said the gorilla, pumping Toby's hand up and down.
The fox gave him a dazzling, immaculate smile. "If you ever desire it, you have a lucrative career ahead of you modeling equipment for our catalogs," he enunciated flawlessly.
Toby smiled back. "Dunno if that's the life for me, but thank you."
"Oi, Mummy! That's the mouse that made the mountain go POP!" a young voice called out. Two grinning marten kids leapt in for a pounce-hug. "Luxy told us!" "Yeah! Bloody choice mayhem, mate!"
Toby looked up to see Vienna Tusk standing behind them, looking utterly petrified. She turned away from him quickly, her face a complex expression of shame and regret.
He couldn't help a chuckle. Everything they'd done to each other seemed so small and faraway now.
When she glanced again at the mouse's eyes, there was no furious thirst for vengeance there. Impossibly, he just smiled and mouthed the words, 'It's okay.'
Her slab of a hubby reached in to pluck the boys off. "Ronnie! Cale! Let 'im breathe, ya little fleas!" Cordwood Tusk tossed the mouse a 'good work' nod and stepped back. Vienna walked away too, but not before aiming a glance at Toby that said, later, she might want to try her apology again.
He thought he'd like that.
Luxy looked around. "Oh, hey, Tobester, there was someone I picked up like a burr along the way. Says he knows you." He reached into the crowd and pushed forward a familiar goggled face.
Toby could not believe his eyes. He threw his arms around Gilla-Gilla, bearing the quills quite admirably. "Oh, man! I'm so glad you got out! And so sorry we had to leave you there!!"
"Strategy, fam. It's understood. Hadda see y'again tho. Got somethin' forya."
Toby let go, looking curious.
From out of his vest the porcupine withdrew a sheet of paper and unfolded it.
Toby skimmed it, then couldn't help a burst of laughter. It was an itemized list of every single thing he'd taken from Gilla-Gilla's cabin. "I'll pay it all back, I promise!"
A trace of a grin. "See that you do. Jerky's on the house though."
"Speaking of food," Piffle piped up, "Aldridge made cupcakes! They're literally divine! We've gotta go get you some and fill that tummy of yours back up." She patted the empty space in his middle and started leading him across the room to the piled-high refreshments table. Zinc and George followed.
Many more shoulder pats and hearty cheers jostled him as he crossed the room. Ignatius popped up to deliver another bone-powdering handshake. Mia was much more gentle as she stroked his face with her housecat paw. At the table, Piffle pressed a plate of sweets into his hand. "Eat!"
He nibbled a cupcake. 'Holy shit, this really is good.' The frosting tasted like Christmas morning. "So, you don't seem to mind how I look now."
Piffle's expression conveyed, 'Why in the world would you think otherwise?'
George leaned down to nuzzle his master's bony shoulder. "We nearly match, Sire."
Toby chuckled and rubbed the stallion's skull fondly. "I guess we do."
From out of the blue, Toby found himself enveloped in a grandmotherly hug from Tía Lopez. He stiffened and blushed, not really acquainted with such a feeling. Though, soon he relaxed and let the warmth of the gesture soak into his tired bones. It felt very, very nice.
"I told you you would do fine. And see? You have." She gave him a smile, sweet as honey. Then she abruptly popped a jellybean in his mouth. "Here. A treat. You're too skinny." She gave him a wink and a pat on the cheek, then melted away in the crowd.
Toby was left pleasantly befuddled. The bean tasted like apple pie.
Zinc poured himself a glass of rum. "It hasn't been a party without you, pal. We let you sleep, of course. Shit, we all catnapped for a bit. But we saved the whole goddam world! The kitten kaboodle! You can't stop a shindig from happenin' after that!"
Silently, Junella appeared beside her partner, swiped the bottle from him and swigged. She looked at Toby with a smirk at first, but then her expression changed. A weary smile that told him she probably would have preferred someplace quieter too.
Toby nodded, appreciating that.
Piffle was now asking what he thought of the cupcake, and he was about to reply, when something on the coffee table caught his eye. "What's that?"
Aldridge shifted from a vole in the corner to an ibex by the fireplace. "That is our foe."
Toby felt the reassuring hand on his shoulder, but all other sensations faded against the sight of that clear glass cube, just sitting there out in the open.
Perfectly imprisoned in its center was a single drop of blood.
"She... can't get out of there, can she?"
"Not a worry," the wizard said softly. "I built that cube from anti-imaginite. It's a concept I've been playing around with for quite a while. Absolutely impregnable. She could... for a thousand... and not even..."
Aldridge kept talking. Toby didn't hear it.
The color drained out of his vision. He felt his jaw judder.
And even though there were people all around and some part of him knew this was embarrassing, he literally could not stop himself from rushing forward through the crowd, dropping to his knees, and repeatedly punching the cube so hard the table it was sitting on shattered.
The sound of it made people jump away. Then they backed up further at the fury Toby suddenly unleashed. "CAN YOU HEAR ME IN THERE, SCAPHIS!? CAN YOU HEAR ME!?" He brought his steel slab of a hand down against the cube over and over and over. It didn't leave a scratch. Toby kept hitting. He literally could not stop himself. "YOU'D BETTER STAY IN THERE IF YOU KNOW WHAT'S GOOD FOR YOU! BELIEVE ME! BECAUSE I DON'T EVER WANT TO GO THROUGH THAT AGAIN!! YOU HEAR ME!? NONE OF IT! EVER!!! I NEVER WANT TO FEEL HATRED AND WORRY LIKE THAT! I NEVER WANT TO THINK ABOUT YOU HURTING PEOPLE I CARE ABOUT! I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOUR HORRIBLE NOT-A-FACE FOR THE REST OF ETERNITY!! SO IF YOU EVER DO MANAGE TO ESCAPE, RUN AWAY. FOR YOUR OWN SAKE! BECAUSE IF I EVER SEE YOU AGAIN I WILL HUNT YOU ACROSS SPACE AND TIME AND I WON'T CARE WHAT I TURN INTO IN THE PROCESS. THERE IS LITERALLY NOTHING I WOULDN'T DO TO STOP YOU. AND I DON'T WANT THAT. I DON'T WANT TO BECOME THAT. I DON'T WANT TO LOSE EVERYONE I LOVE BY BECOMING THAT." Tears were flooding uncontrollably down his face. "YOU HEAR ME!? STAY IN THERE!!! STAY IN THERE FOREVER!!! DO IT FOR YOUR OWN SELF-PRESERVATION IF YOU DON'T CARE ABOUT ANYTHING ELSE, BUT DON'T YOU EVER, EVER, EVER LET ME SEE YOU AGAIN FROM NOW UNTIL THE END OF TIME, YOU MONSTER!!!"
Toby suddenly snatched up the cube and ran out of the room at top speed, knocking people out of his way as if he couldn't even see them.
Aldridge saw exactly where he was heading. He transferred himself there instantly.
The shocked crowd was silent for a moment, then began to softly murmur about the stunning outburst they'd just seen. Some reached out hands to help up the guests Toby had knocked over. Some started nervously picking up shards of glass from the coffee table, until Rebecca stopped them and said she could handle it herself. Most, though, followed Toby.
Cutlass out and flashing, Junella let everyone know that she was getting to him first and not even God would stop her.
She bullied her way through the bodies packing the hallway, towards the stark, bare-boards room where all these weeks of awfulness had began. She couldn't stop a shudder. Memories of that green-tipped tongue. Watching Scaphis tear Aldridge in half. Watching Toby nearly lose himself inside that silver, floating abomination.
When she finally burst through, the first thing she saw was Aldridge leaning against the left wall, arms crossed, observing. She saw how the room bulged outward from the unholy artifact at its center. She saw the Neculaunis with its door flung wide open.
She saw Toby frozen in front of it, shivering and panting, lips stretched in rage, arm cocked back, holding up the cube of Scaphis, about to throw her in.
Junella sheathed her cutlass and walked silently towards him. The mouse looked immobile but simmering. A volcano two seconds from eruption.
Rubberneckers were crowded at the door, trying to push in. Some intended to stop the mouse, others to encourage him. George raised his temperature just enough to be uncomfortable. He nosed his way through and lifted them aside by their collars in his teeth. Sire Toby needed this moment to himself.
Sweat dripped slowly down his forehead. His arm trembled from the weight of the cube, and from holding it for so long at a pitching angle. His left leg was braced behind him and was skidding slowly against the floorboards. The oblivion door's nothingness didn't call out to him now. He had no interest in it besides what it could do to the living disease in his hand.
Toby felt needle-tipped paws wrap softly around his shoulder. Not preventing him, simply joining him.
He dragged his eyes away from the Neculaunis. Junella's face showed quiet concern. She blinked, and showed him two shining sapphires for an instant, before they reverted again to her regular hue.
Toby swallowed. His throat was as tight as a violin bow. He could not speak, so he asked with his eyes, 'Are you going to try to stop me?'
Junella shook her head. She replied back just as silently, 'I'm with you whatever you decide.'
He took in a deep breath. Then he abruptly dropped the cube on the floor with a startling THUNK and poured himself into her embrace. He cried and shuddered on her shoulder.
Aldridge, watching, simply nodded.
Junella enfolded the wreck of a mouse in her arms, cradling his head and resting hers against it, cheek-to-cheek. Her needles caressed his fur, feather-gently.
His whole body twitched with a powerful sob. "A-aren't you g-gonna yell at me for n-not tossing her in? I know you w-would."
"Maybe not," she replied with a catlike smirk. "You can only go in if you want to, right?"
Toby nodded. He was getting her pretty scarf all sloppy with his crying and felt really bad about that. "I th-thought about that. I saw mys-self throw her, and how she'd bounce off, and maybe I'd yell at her some more. What stopped me was, I didn't know how I'd feel if she went th-through."
So quiet no one else could hear, Junella whispered in his ear, "My Toby."
He shuddered. He held her tighter.
She moved her hand up and down his back in a calming circle.
"I'm sorry I ruined the party," he mumbled.
She snorted. "Nothing's ruined. They understand. I don't even have to ask 'em. Maybe the music'll be quieter for a bit, but you can come back when you're ready and I'll pour you a drink and everything'll be fine."
"Just soda, please."
She chuckled. "You wimp."
He laughed too.
***
It was now the day after. Rebecca had cleaned up all confetti and the spilled drinks inside herself. Aldridge had flown their guests home. A magnificent sight, actually. Everyone had linked arms in a chain, then the cast-off angel unfurled his wings in an unbelievable span, counted to three, and lifted them all effortlessly into the air. Toby waved and waved goodbye.
He and his friends remained for another night's sleep. After a simple, pleasant breakfast, they went out to the front yard to talk and enjoy the view. Six lounge chairs rose up from the lawn. George was content to lie on the grass. Piffle, however...
Junella leaned over the back of her chair. "Will you cut out the victory cartwheels and get over here?"
The hamsterfly fell over on her tush and tittered. The pianograss played a lovely chord. "In a minute!"
Before them was the whole of Phobiopolis, all spread out like a buffet. Through the Veil Of Tears they could see mountains, plains, even the faraway light at the top of EC. A beautiful panorama. From such a height, everything was peaceful.
Toby stood for a moment just appreciating the house. Rebecca had not only rebuilt herself exactly as she'd been before, she'd used the bulk of Scaphis' citadel and the old castle to fill in the crater. Now the mountaintop was a smooth plateau of friendly chocolate-brown rock, covered in soft green, with one cozy home as its centerpiece. Toby turned to see Aldridge settling down beside another of her avatars. Rebecca's latest body was composed of faux fur and clothing over a mannequin: as close to her old self as she could accomplish.
"Sorry about blowing up your castle," Toby said as he walked over.
Aldridge snorted. "Ah, well. I never should have built it in the first place. Nothing but a monument to my phase of sullen misanthropy. Rebecca's all I need." He reached out to pat her paw.
Becca added, "And with the mountain shaved down, the view looks different for the first time in forevs."
Toby was glad things had worked out. He sat down beside them and stretched his legs.
Zinc was sipping something effeminate from a cored-out pineapple, because this seemed an appropriate time and place. "Kudos to you during the fight, Becca. You were a slaughter house."
Everyone groaned. The mutt's tail wagged. Piffle came over to bop him on the head with her wing.
"And thanks for mopping up the trash at the end," Junella said to Aldridge. "Tho' it woulda been nice to have a bit more assistance during."
The wizard, now a stoat, sat up to let her see his arched eyebrow. "Oh? Excuse me, but how far did Scaphis manage to reach in two months' time?"
George recalled the particulars. "The furthest southward point she was observed was Sir Gilla-Gilla's abode in Marasmus. But to the east and west she overtook both Cachexy and Polydactyl. If it were not for her looping path indicating disorientation in Dysania, she would have easily engulfed Lalochezia as well within that time."
A crisp nod from Aldridge. He laid back down and closed his eyes. "If I hadn't been inside of her, she'd have done it all in three weeks."
Junella made a 'Well allright then' sound.
"What were you doing in there?" Piffle asked.
"Dying a simply ludicrous amount of times," he responded straightforwardly. "Bathed in acid, suffocated in stomach folds. It was unpleasant. Only meditation kept me sane. In the brief, repeating moments when I'd return to consciousness, I kept on trying to work my way towards the wand. She did an impressive job keeping it separate from me. But having to constantly keep me in check drastically reduced her own capacity."
Toby was reminded of his days spent in L'roon's storage compartment. His mind also boggled at the thought that the Scaphis he'd fought had been severely handicapped. 'Cripes, what would she have been like at her peak!?'
The wizard squoze his wife's paw. "Everything worked out in the end though, don't you think, Sugarbeet?"
"More or less, Poopcookie."
Junella winced down to her soul. Zinc gave Piffle a look of, 'You will not call me that.'
George considered something different. "If I may ask, Sir Aldridge, it seems inefficient on Scaphis' part to have constantly counteracted you. Why did she not dispose of you in Dysphoria, if that was her preferred method of ending those who opposed her?"
Aldridge pointed at him, indicating an excellent question. "For one, that place doesn't bother me anymore." His tone conveyed a long, hard acclimation. "For two, because devouring me was simply more Grand Guignol. Melodramatic. Too emotionally-satisfying to pass up. I may also have subtly manipulated her towards that course of action. If it worked, I'll take credit for it. If not, happy chance."
He paused for a moment, then spoke with solemnity. "I apologize for putting the burden on you all. But I have had so much past experience with her, I foresaw the coming battle from the perspective of if I were an active participant. It did not go well. My tricks were known. New blood was needed. I sacrificed both myself, and you, on a gamble. I hope you can forgive me."
The travelers all looked among themselves, asking if they did. They settled on Toby to answer, since he had easily suffered the most from the wizard's decision.
The small mouse thought it over for a while, then shrugged. "I guess, like Gilla-Gilla told me, strategy is strategy. She put you in the position to make that choice. It was unfair, but it was what you had to do. So that's that."
Aldridge was humbled by Toby's simple, rational outlook. "It was unfair, yes. You should never have endured what you did. Even at my most wrathful, I still thought that Scaphis could change if given a properly reflective punishment. I was wrong about that. You paid the price for my excess of compassion."
Toby fidgeted. "I'm not angry at you."
"Maybe you should be," the wizard replied. He turned his gaze to the stars. "Toby, I have not been angry in a very, very long time. Perhaps that is why I have also not done anything for the same length. Anger is a motivator. My serenity became stagnation. Don't let it happen to you. Keep your fire lit, but look after it. Neither too hot or too dim."
Toby nodded at that.
Aldridge went on, knowing he was about to descend into rambling, but hoping some of it might be useful to the others. "This is not a kind world, as you all well know. The star being keeps us afloat, but we are castaways on a sea of darkest ugliness and chaos. We are at our best when we resist; when we lash ourselves to what makes our lives worthwhile and speak directly to fate, 'No, you cannot have this. It's mine.'"
He turned directly to the mouse. "You have to choose carefully what you want to hold onto, because time will steal all else. Friendships are a good choice. Power and control, not so much."
Junella felt a twinge at that.
Aldridge observed Toby's fused hammerhand and the tension of the mouse's posture, even in his relaxed position. "You are still fighting, aren't you?" he asked gently.
Toby looked at him in surprise, then nodded vigorously, glad that someone else had noticed. (They all had, actually. His faraway looks. His fidgeting legs at breakfast. The multiple times he'd woken up from sleep to pace or get a drink of water.)
"I..." he swallowed, "I can't convince myself it's over. I spent so long planning, it's like I'm locked onto that mindset now. On rails. I dream about her. I replay our conversations. Especially the insults that hurt the most. I keep going into the livingroom to look at that cube on the coffee table, making sure she's still in there." He added, "Sorry about breaking that, Rebecca."
A handwave.
Toby rubbed his forehead. "I hear her voice when it's quiet. I go over and over plans that already happened. I keep nitpicking. 'Why didn't I make a detonator instead of a taser? What if I'd used, like, an Ipecac cannon? Would things have gone better if I'd done X, Y, or Z? Would fewer people have suffered?'"
Aldridge saw his own reflection in the mouse. He reached out to cup Toby's shoulder. "Your mind will continue being cruel to you for quite a while longer, I'll wager. You'll beg it to stop and it won't. But sometimes hearing it from another's voice can be something you can use against it: You did well. Nothing's ever perfect, but it turned out good. It's okay to celebrate that."
"Celebrate!?" Toby yelped. "My friends had their brains sucked out! Everyone in Rhinolith spent a month in hell! Then I singlehandedly destroyed their economy. Lalochezia's on the downward spiral too. I stole from Gilla. I screamed at L'roon-"
Aldridge giggled.
Toby gave him a furious look.
The wizard could not keep the smirk off his face. "You think I haven't made mistakes just as awful? That any of us haven't?"
"You think you're special?" Rebecca teased.
Toby didn't know whether to feel offended or reassured.
With bottomless caring, Aldridge locked his gaze to Toby's and told him, "We're all fuckups. Everyone who ever lived."
"Well... I don't know about..."
Aldridge shook his head: no exceptions. "The story of history is not much more than endlessly wringing progress from cataclysms and atrocities. Slow progress. Why let all that pain have happened for no reason? Build from what the ashes unearth. There is nothing innocent, nothing pure, nothing untouched by the universe's blind, cold cruelty. Oh well. We wrest joy from this decomposing world for the sheer satisfaction of spite."
Toby thought of how angry Logdorbhok must have been at his escape. How big a fit his mom would throw to know he'd been playing outside all this time.
"We laugh because the cosmos does nothing but try to stop us. And when we fail, that is simply the default state of existence. So it should not concern us for very long."
Toby's mind was a bit blown. "That's, like, incredibly nihilistic and incredibly hopeful all at once."
"Good." Aldridge sat back in his seat. "Life is contradictions. Deal with it. And deal with the fact that you and your friends are heroes."
Toby blushed. "I'm a hero for swinging a hammer a lot?" he joked.
Aldridge responded seriously. "No. For persevering."
George snorted in complete agreement.
"I..." Toby swallowed. "I feel like I can't really accept that word, honestly. After all the things I did to her... How far I let myself go... What kind of furson am I after all that?"
Aldridge replied with a question. "Do you think I am evil for putting her in that cube?"
"No, obviously!"
A brisk nod. "Then turn that logic on yourself."
Toby instinctively tried to argue with that, and couldn't find a way to.
Rebecca added, "What Aldy said about choosing friendships? That's how you come back after staring into the abyss. They're what pulls you back. Scaphis never trusted anyone else. She was too scared to take that risk. So she never knew the rewards."
Toby considered that, then slowly turned to look at his friends.
They all returned gentle smiles.
He was reminded of what he'd said the day before around the campfire, about giving up everything to win, including themselves. He had done that. He had let himself become an engine of purpose, no longer caring what became of him. He'd jumped headlong into the blackness, tumbling without fear, accepting of oblivion... And his friends had caught him. Here they were, all together now on the other side of the plunge.
He envisioned them dragging him out of a cold swimming pool where he'd almost drowned, leading him to safety and wrapping a soft fluffy towel around him.
Aldridge wasn't psychic, but he was skilled at reading cues. "It seems to me you've made yourself responsible for a great many things, Toby deLeon. The weight of the world. That's a hard burden to bear. Maybe it's allright, I think, if Atlas steps down for a break every now and then, and lets someone else hold the sky."
Toby was about to ask, 'Isn't that selfish?' But then he stopped himself.
Hadn't he rescued them too? Hadn't he dove in to save them? George, Zinc, Piffle, Junella. Was there anything selfish in thinking they might be willing to do the same?
Was it just that he didn't want to return to the past, when he'd been a weakling in need of their care? Yes, that struck a chord. But he wasn't weak anymore. He was just... fragile at the moment, that was all. If they carried him for a while, it wouldn't be permanent.
His friends were still smiling at him. Lovingly. Encouragingly. At times when he'd lost his memories, hadn't they always been there to remind him? And now that he felt like an overturned box of jigsaw puzzle pieces, was it really so outlandish to think they might be happy to help him pick them up?
A burden became easier when many hands shared the weight.
It was barely above a whisper, but he had to say it. To all of them. "Thank you."
They nodded that he was welcome.
"That reminds me!" Aldridge suddenly sat bolt upright and looked at the others. "You came to me the first time to ask favors. Seeing as how I put you all through a living hell named Scaphis, you deserve them even more. Ask away."
Toby sputtered. That was rather sudden. He couldn't think of anything to wish for.
Though Zinc pounced on the opportunity. "I want my dream car. She's been in my brains for years now and she wants out. But I don't want you to just give her to me. I want enough rocks to build her myself."
"Done," Aldridge said without hesitation. "There's an underground pocket of imaginite near your home in Phlogiston. No one's discovered it yet. I'll draw you a map and build you an entrance."
"Hot damn!" He clapped his wrenches.
Toby thought of something. "Speaking of imaginite, one thing you can definitely do is help me repay Rhinolith."
The wizard's face said it didn't even need to be asked. "I will pick up that tab in its entirety. Your friend Gilla's list too. It comes down to my responsibility anyway. I loosed a remorseless viper upon the world: these are my amends."
Rebecca added, "And before you ask, yes we'll take care of the comatose three you plucked out of the funhouse dimension. I've got some experience coaxing people back from that."
Toby nodded in relief. He'd been just about to raise that point.
"Though, none of that is for you," Aldridge noted, pointing at the mouse.
Toby stammered. "I- I can't think of anything I want! I mean, my mind did kinda flick towards my old bookshelf. But no. That's just me trying to go backwards again. If I really want to read any of them again I can go look for them in EC. Or imaginite 'em myself."
"May I make a suggestion?" Aldridge asked.
"Go for it."
"We were just speaking of worries and letting them go. I used to be fairly good as a hypnotist. I can make you something my wife and I use. Actually..." He rustled in the pocket of his bathrobe. "I'll just give you mine and make another later."
Into Toby's hand was placed a small octagon gem. Flat on all sides, worn smooth by years. Nearly clear but with a trace of blue. The small weight of it alone was pleasant. "What does it do?"
"It's a calming gem. If you hold it and stare into its center, all your emotions will recede. You will be as still as a pond. A perfect aid for meditation."
Rebecca piped up, "Just don't use it too much. You'll go stale like bread."
Aldridge blushed. "Um, yes. True."
Toby stared into it. He did not feel a trance come over him, nor a blissful wave of serenity. He just felt... neutral. Not the nothingness of the oblivion door. Not the numbness after Dysphoria. Just himself, and that was all. He smiled softly and looked back to Aldridge. "Thank you."
"Um..." Piffle was tapping her many fingertips together. "Are you still playin' Santy Claus for the rest of us?"
"Absolutely, my dear," Aldridge replied.
Her whiskers bounced. "Oh good! I've been thinking about it while you were talkin' with Toby. What I'd really like is if, um, whenever I get transformed into something, if I always had a way back."
Zinc chuckled. "Tryin' to be your cake and eat it too?"
Her cheeks turned pink. "You know me. I really do enjoy it. But I remember what you said about not letting it be a burden on everyone else. This way, it won't be." She turned back to the wizard. "Assuming it's possible?"
"Certainly." He stroked his chinfur. "I believe Luxy has something like that put on him. He likes to be himself. Something about using close friends' perceptions of your appearance to draw upon as a kind of triangulation. With five of you it ought to be easy. I'll ask Waxacada and Driuwej about it this afternoon."
Rebecca snickered. "After their diaper change."
Piffle clapped her paws. "That's the cat's knees and the bees' pajamas! And I'll help out with that, Becca. They're adorable!" The two transformed sorcerers had been among the few guests who'd stayed. Piffle had been tickling their tummies and cooing at them since the party.
Junella raised her hand like in a classroom. "Me next?"
Aldridge nodded to her. "As you wish."
The skunk looked down at the bulbous grooved lump on her rump. "Um, can I have my old tail back? I got a taste of it again when I was playing with George," she shared a grin with him, "and dammit, I miss it." Blushing, she confessed, "Brushing it was relaxing." She knew that was borderline girly-girl behavior. "Keep the shards though. I don't want it to be jus' a handle for bastards to yank on in combat."
Aldridge guffawed. "Pfft! Give me something difficult. That's like asking for me to bake you a tin of muffins." He opened his hand, the wand flew from inside the house, he pointed it at her bottom, and it was done.
Junella jumped at the sudden explosion of fur. She chuckled and ran her paws through all that nice softness. Hidden amongst it were still plenty of jagged, deadly edges. Perfect.
Piffle's eyes sparkled. "Junella, it's beautiful! Please tell me you'll let me brush it too!"
The skunk rolled her eyes. Naturally she'd ask. "Just so long as you have some bandaids handy."
Zinc gave his partner a thumbs-up on her custom chassis. His buzzsaw pompadour had fallen off and vanished sometime during the brawl, but he was still tossing back and forth the idea of a wig.
Junella's sharp eyes noticed a small sparkling missile incoming. She shot out her paws and caught it.
It was another calming gem.
Rebecca craned her neck to give her a smile to go with it. "That's mine. Aldy can make another another. You give me a vibe like you might appreciate it."
Junella looked down at the little pebble of sky. "Yeah... Thank you," she said quietly.
Aldridge sat up taller so he could see all the way to the end of the row of chairs. "What about you, Sir George Charles Atkinson? Everyone else has had a turn."
The stallion blinked. "Me? I had not thought to ask! My needs are simple and easily met. Companionship, conversation, the occasional good scuffle, and high speed. Although..." He hesitated. It might be too much, and too vague. "When I encountered a herd of my own kind outside of Rhinolith some nights ago, it was a painful moment. I saw glints of sentience among them, but a strong rejection of it. I would like, if you are offering to grant a desire, for some way to give my fellow constructs a chance to enjoy the clarity of mind and richness of heart I have been lucky enough to possess."
Toby felt himself tear up a little. Of course George would ask for that. George was the best.
Aldridge was floored. "Well now... I can certainly understand why you'd want that. Though, to be perfectly honest, I'd always thought of ascended constructs as a fluke. The luck of a shooting star."
"They're not," Toby was happy to correct. "I've got some theories about them. It might be way easier than you'd ever guess."
The mouse sounded absolutely confident about that. Aldridge had not been astonished in quite some time. It felt nice. "Allright then. I will give it my best, I promise."
George whinnied in appreciation.
"I hate feelin' greedy..." Junella bashfully poked in, "Especially after you just hadda go and make the most unselfish wish ever." She playfully noogied George.
He chortled and swished his tail.
"But, ah, you mind if I also ask for a ride home?"
"Not at all," Aldridge said. "That was always included in the package deal."
The skunk nodded, relieved. "Just making sure."
Zinc nibbled the rim of his 'glass'. "Though... that does raise an interesting question, Junebug. Whose home?"
"I mean..." She faltered, as she'd only been thinking about her own.
Zinc tapped his wrenchtips. "We've got the Jennie. But Piffle lives back in the Blackdamp. Toby's basically an orphan. And we can't well send George back to a hole in the ground."
Piffle and Toby looked at one another. They hadn't really thought about this.
Junella looked at George. Then an absolutely wicked smile unfurled across her face. "Hey, mouse!"
Toby whirled around. "Huh?"
She pointed a needlefinger at him. "You remember back at the start of this ass-busting adventure, you promised me one tame construct as payment for getting you up the mountain? Well, we're here, ain't we?"
He was a bit startled. Not that she'd remember, but that she could still possibly think of George as payment. "Yes, we are."
She reached behind her and clutched the stallion's dome like a basketball. "Then I'll be taking ownership, effective immediately."
George tried not to show his shock at the brusqueness of her tone. "As you wish, Madam Brox. It is indeed what we agreed upon."
"Right." She nodded in satisfaction.
Folding her arms behind her head, she leaned back and used her new fluff as a pillow. Then, as if an afterthought, she glanced over at Toby and Piffle. "He's gonna need a couple groomsmen though. You two losers wanna come live on a pirate ship?"
Piffle's antennae perked up.
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END OF BOOK FIVE
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