“There, that’s better, isn’t it?” Tobias asked, massaging soapy suds in a circle around Flynn’s pointy ears. Those ears twitched, lightly flicking water droplets away. Flynn, always a bundle of joyous energy, was notably subdued at the moment, despite Tobias’ best efforts to cheer him up.
“You don’t want to carry all that dust and dirt everywhere you go, do you?” Tobias asked, scrubbing down Flynn’s neck. He knelt on the tiled floor of one of the Long Room’s spacious bathing areas, with Flynn atop a wide bench. Flynn’s curly tail drooped, ragged and distinctly un-fluffy now that it was soaked with water. His pointy ears clearly wanted to droop, but they could only dip so far. Flynn’s pale blue eyes gazed into the distance, never really focused on any one spot, just pointedly refusing to look at Tobias.
Tobias just smiled. “Be grateful you don’t have to take baths as often as humans,” he said. As he’d said to Flynn, many times, over the thirteen years they’d been together. Flynn flicked his ears again, wrinkled his nose, gave a little head shake. Tobias sighed. “You prefer a professional over me? That’s harsh. You know this life doesn’t let us bring you to professional groomers regularly. And I know that every other groomer has told me you’re just as fussy with them as with me.”
Flynn lifted his head somewhat indignantly, sticking his nose up in the air. So Tobias went all-in on massaging soap into his face, around his nose, mouth, and eyes. “We’re almost done. You’re just extra-grubby up in here. Face, then paws, then rinse and dry and brushing. And I know you love getting brushed. So you’ve got plenty to look forward to.”
None of Tobias’ coaxings made Flynn any happier about the process. But Flynn didn’t fight him, didn’t try to run. He just made his displeasure known, with dignity and patience.
“All right, here we go,” Tobias said, once he’d finished scrubbing Flynn’s paw pads. Flynn braced himself, and Tobias dumped a bucket-full of water on him. And then a second. And a third. “Hang in there, buddy,” Tobias said, running his hands through Flynn’s fur, checking for any hint of soapy suds remaining. He saw Flynn brace himself again, and read the signs. “Don’t you do it,” Tobias said. “You’ve still got at least one rinse left, there’s no point in —”
Flynn did it — shook himself vigorously, spraying water all over Tobias.
Tobias sighed, eyes narrowed in exasperation. “Proud of yourself?” he asked. Flynn’s tail and ears perked up, and he lifted his nose proudly in the air.
Tobias dumped another bucket of water on him.
“There,” he said. “Now it’s time to — Flynn!”
He’d just started to reach for a towel when Flynn — predictably — leapt off the stool and took off running around the bathing area, shaking vigorously, spraying water everywhere. “You won’t get dry enough on your own!” Tobias said, standing up, towel in hand. “Come here!”
Flynn did not oblige. And so, like on many previous occasions of Tobias bathing Flynn, he had to chase him. The tiled floor was slick with water, but Tobias was barefoot, which helped a bit — and Flynn, being a dog, had particularly bad balance and traction on tiled floors, especially when they were wet. Try as he might, Flynn was slipping and sliding everywhere, and it wasn’t too long before Tobias dove, wrapped Flynn up in the towel, and slid across the floor on his side to come to a stop against the wall, Flynn snug in his arms.
“Gotcha,” he said, smiling at Flynn as he poked his soaking wet face out from the towel. “Come on, this is cozy. Right?” He hugged Flynn close, and laughed as Flynn sighed in his face, ruffling his wet hair.
It took a lot of work to towel-dry Flynn — and Flynn escaped two more times, shaking himself all over, making a merry chase of it around the bath — but the work, eventually, was done. Tobias dried himself off, too, changed into dry clothes, and then he and Flynn headed out into the bath’s antechamber, a cozy little reading room, where Tobias sat on the floor and brushed Flynn.
“I know it’s your favorite,” Tobias said, smiling. “See? This is great. Bathing isn’t so bad, either, if you really think about it.” Flynn headbutted his hand, his left ear doing a little circular motion. “You say you don’t like getting wet. But you love swimming.” Flynn popped up on his hindquarters, placing both his paws against Tobias’ chest, gazing meaningfully into his eyes. Tobias just laughed. “We’ll just agree to disagree, shall we?”
And after he finished brushing Flynn, Tobias just sat, head bowed, his forehead against Flynn’s, his hands in Flynn’s fur, his eyes closed. Resting in this moment, in this peace.
It was this, more than anything, that had kept him safe and sane over the years. It was Flynn who had saved his life bodily against his parents’ killer — and Flynn who had saved him emotionally and spiritually every day since.
What would I do without you?
Flynn nudged him, then licked his nose once, twice. Tobias laughed softly.
Right. I’ll never have to worry about that, will I?
Sitting back with a sigh, Tobias saw the energy and hope in Flynn’s eyes, in the tilt of his head, and smiled. “Ready to play, huh? All right, then. Let’s go see if Alice and Hector are still at it.”
——
“Well done,” Sheena said, lowering her azure katana. “Take a break.”
“I can keep going,” Guinevere said, catching her breath. She tried not to grimace at the sweat soaking her face, dampening her clothes, slicking her grip on her sword’s hilt.
Sheena smiled. “Rest isn’t a sign of physical weakness,” she said. “It is a time to recover, to process, to prepare. Taking breaks during training sessions help to make the most of your training. You’ve done very well so far. Take a break.” She sheathed her sword and took a seat on the couch to the side of the training hall. Akko clambered up onto her shoulder, nuzzling her affectionately.
Guinevere sighed, and sat beside her. She noticed that Sheena wasn’t sweating, wasn’t even out of breath. Setting her sword across her thighs, she let her hand rest. It was difficult, practicing with her sword in her left hand. She knew some right-handed people who performed some tasks with their left hand, who had some proficiency with both hands. Guinevere was not one of those people. And now her left hand, asked to do more today and two days ago than in the entirety of the rest of Guinevere’s life, wasn’t sore, wasn’t aching, didn’t really hurt.
It was… tingly. Light, somewhat numb. When Guinevere held it up, her whole hand shook, and she couldn’t stop it. When she set her hand on her leg, it still somewhat shook, feeling like it was going to float away.
It would have been nice to have Ava at her side right now, giving her some affectionate encouragement. But she’d noticed Alice, Elliot, and Ninian playing with Hector in the other room, and had wanted to join them, so Guinevere had acquiesced.
“You’re a quick study,” Sheena said. “Be mindful of your perfectionism, though.”
“I’m not a perfectionist,” Guinevere said quickly. Too quickly, she knew.
“It can be helpful to embrace imperfection,” Sheena said. Guinevere didn’t look up, but she could feel Sheena’s eyes on her. “Nothing Lasts. Nothing is Finished. Nothing is Perfect.”
Guinevere did look up at that. “Where did you get that from?” she asked.
“It’s what we believe in Haruo,” Sheena said. “The impermanent, the incomplete, the imperfect… these aren’t just things we see outside of ourselves. They are us, and always will be. But there is beauty in that, don’t you think?” She offered a small smile.
Guinevere looked away. “No,” she said. She didn’t add that she thought that idea sounded ridiculous. Even tired and sweaty and frustrated at her injury and slow progress, she wasn’t tactless enough to insult someone’s beliefs. “Why shouldn’t we strive to be perfect? Doesn’t the Canticos implore us to aspire towards the perfection of the divine, to be perfect, just as the Creator is?”
“Only the divine is perfect,” Sheena said. She stood and took a few steps out onto the training floor, in front of Guinevere, standing across from her. “Nothing Lasts. All things in this life, and even this life itself, will one day come to an end.” Her voice was like a still lake, a serene mirror-mere that both calmed Guinevere and arrested her attention. “Nothing is Finished. With every breath you have, even your last, there is still more to accomplish, more to pursue, more room to grow. Nothing is Perfect. No matter how much you improve, there are always flaws worth correcting. No matter how much you learn, there is always more to learn.” She watched Guinevere closely. “Does that help you understand?”
Guinevere shook her head. “I see what you’re saying. But I don’t understand the point of it, really. Why embrace imperfection? That sounds like you’re giving up.”
“Perhaps some cultural divides aren’t so easily breached,” Sheena said. Despite her words, she didn’t sound upset, or frustrated, or offended. She was as calm as ever. And Guinevere could feel how much Sheena wanted Guinevere, not necessarily to agree, but to understand.
Can I see what she’s saying? Take a step back, Guinevere, check yourself for a moment. I know you’re exhausted and your brain doesn’t want to put in the extra effort right now, but if you’re going to make the argument for pursuing perfection then you really ought to live up to your own standards.
Nothing lasts? Nothing is finished? Nothing is perfect? And this is… supposed to be comforting? Hopeful? Inspiring? She talks of embracing these ideas, rather than railing against them.
“Only the divine is perfect.” But she didn’t say it like she was giving up.
“I… want to understand,” Guinevere finally admitted. She let out a sigh. “I may be too exhausted for philosophy right now.”
“That’s fair enough,” Sheena said. She drew her katana and smiled. “Shall we continue?”
Guinevere held up her left hand for a moment. It had stopped trembling, stopped tingling. “Yes!” she said, eagerly rising to her feet, raising her sword in salute.
They moved through several more exercises. Sheena especially took an interest in Guinevere’s footwork, praising her steps and balance. “You have a dancer’s instinct,” she said. “Your poise, your adaptability, these are all great strengths to build upon. You’re smaller and weaker than almost any opponent you will ever face in real combat. Maneuverability will be your greatest asset.”
Guinevere bristled slightly at the “smaller and weaker” comment, but only out of instinctual defensiveness, she knew.
I know I’m short. I know I’m not very physically strong. All of the Knights who “protected” me at home, Tycho, other Knights and male fighters I’ve seen or known…
Well, Tobias is the smallest male swordsman I’ve ever met. And he’s still taller and stronger than I am.
“An opponent being stronger than you does not make them superior to you,” Sheena said. “Not in every way. They have their advantages over you. And you can have your advantages over them. Use what you have. Your size doesn’t need to be a detriment.”
Manoeuverability as my greatest asset… yes, I can see it. I do have excellent footwork, don’t I? Tycho always praised me for it, and I was always far and away the top student in my dance classes. And being smaller makes it easier to present a smaller target, and move around my larger opponents.
“Deflect, rather than block,” Sheena continued as she walked Guinevere through some steps and techniques to handle larger opponents. “Divert, rather than stop. Your injury came from blocking a blow too strong for you to handle, head-on. It’s an easy mistake to make when you lack experience in real combat. Don’t be disheartened by it —” she’d seen Guinevere make a disgruntled face, “learn from it.”
That was the focus of the next hour of training. Sheena acted as the “bigger, stronger” opponent, and while she was no burly man, she did have Guinevere beat in both height and physical strength. Guinevere’s entire focus was on moving around her, diverting her blade, deflecting, being aware of positioning and manoeuvering herself into a position of advantage.
It was highly taxing work. They moved through everything slowly, as they had been — Guinevere wasn’t ready to act out combat at full speed, not when using her non-dominant hand, and they were also using live blades, so caution was imperative — but even so, there was always so much to keep track of, so many possibilities to consider, and Sheena was constantly providing instruction and feedback.
I know sword combat is a tactical affair, but this is more than I’ve ever had to consider in any lessons prior. It’s almost like being a beginner all over again, my mind awhirl with all sorts of brand new ideas, trying to process them all as my body tires.
But… it’s not quite like being a beginner. I can see how Tycho’s lessons were moving me towards a similar progression. He would have gotten me here, in time — but likely not for another year or two. Sheena’s accelerating my training. But she’s right: I do have a strong foundation. I know the footwork, I know the blade positions. Once my hand has healed… I’ll be able to do so much more.
They ended that session on a high note, Sheena working Guinevere through a complicated series of moves to a position of advantage, and praising her with a smile on that graceful finish. And just in time — as Sheena called an end to the session, the door to the training hall opened, and in trotted Ava, panting and wagging her tail, Alice, Elliot, Ninian, and Hector in tow.
——
“Ava missed you,” Alice said, smiling at the reunion of sweaty, exhausted Promised Queen and panting, happy-tired dog.
“And I her,” Guinevere said, stroking Ava’s ears. Ava’s tail wagged so happily, yet with a continued calm that amazed Alice. Flynn and Hector seemed very much more like her idea of what dogs were like — wild energy, joyful abandon. Ava, though she was still a very happy playmate and affectionate companion, had a steadiness to her, a mature calmness that was, Alice thought, rather ironic in the face of her owner’s high-strung nature.
But then, that’s probably what makes them such a good pair. Ava balances Guin out quite nicely. Rather like Flynn and Tobias, in a way. But, no — when Tobias thinks he’s alone with Flynn, a lot of his own reserve melts away. He and Flynn are actually quite alike, aren’t they?
“How’s training going?” Alice asked, eyeing Guinevere and Sheena excitedly.
“Just concluded,” Sheena said, sheathing her katana. Alice pouted slightly — she’d hoped to see them in action. Even if Guinevere’s injury meant she was going through more relaxed training, it was still fascinating to watch.
Hector nudged Alice’s hand — she was still holding a ball — and so she tossed it across the training floor. Hector bounded after it, tongue hanging out.
“He doesn’t know when to quit,” Elliot said, rolling his eyes. “Hector, come here. Take a page out of the ladies’ book and rest. Let me get you some water.”
“Oh, water sounds excellent right now,” Guinevere said. Alice took a good look at her. Even though her current training with Sheena was done at a slow pace, they’d been at it for nearly two hours. And from what Alice had seen in their prior session when they were on the road, there was such a focus on precision and form that moving slowly didn’t make it any less strenuous. Guinevere’s efforts were reflected in her flushed cheeks, her weary expression, and the way that her hand, after she sheathed her sword, trembled in the air until Guinevere tucked it under her other arm to still it.
Elliot and Ninian got water for the dogs and the humans, and both Guinevere and Sheena drank heavily and gladly — Sheena with far more composure than Guinevere, naturally. After Guinevere finished a long series of gulps, she looked at Sheena and a hint of annoyance flickered in her eyes. “How are you not sweating? Not even a little?” she asked.
Sheena regarded her calmly. It was a fair question, Alice thought — they’d been training together the entire time. How did Sheena show not the slightest sign of exertion?
“Extensive training,” Sheena said. She turned away, and it was only for a brief moment, as she was turning away from the others, that Alice caught a little hint of a smile appear on Sheena’s face.
“Flynn, slow down!” came Tobias’ voice, and everyone turned to see Flynn come bounding into the training hall, racing over to greet everyone. Tobias followed at a walk, a bit of exasperation in the smile he wore. “Yes, you found everyone. Good for you.”
“Aww, did you miss us?” Alice asked, kneeling down and petting Flynn all over, gratefully accepting his joyful kisses on her face. “Oh, you’re so fluffy and soft! Tobias did a wonderful job cleaning you up.” At the mere mention of cleaning, Flynn became a bit more subdued, and Alice laughed. “What, do you not enjoy taking a bath?”
“Not one bit,” Tobias said with a sigh.
“But you’re so much more enjoyable to pet and cuddle with when you’re clean and fluffy,” Alice said, and Flynn leaned into her affectionate pets. “A bath is a small thing to tolerate for such wonderful end results.”
On that note of cleanliness, Guinevere excused herself to go clean up and change, and Ava padded away alongside her.
“Training going well?” Tobias asked.
“She’s a very quick study,” Sheena said. “She’s received excellent instruction, and has a strong foundation to build from. Despite her title, she’s quite eager to learn, and to be taught. I’m excited to see what she can do once her hand has fully healed.”
“She held her own admirably through all we put her through,” Tobias said. “The battle at the Fourth, and then the escape from Saoirse’s crumbling palace… she’s had a rather unplanned crash course in real-world experience.”
“It’s best to learn by doing, after all,” Alice said. She saw Flynn eyeing the ball in her hand, and she raised to throw, but Tobias stopped her.
“Hold on,” he said. “Flynn, I think next door is a good space to show off your other skills.” He smiled as Flynn looked at him, ears perked, tail up, fully alert. “Ready for a round of the finding game?”
Flynn let out a high, happy bark, startling Alice — she hadn’t imagined his voice could reach such high registers — and then dashed off to the door to the next room. When people didn’t immediately follow within the one second it took for him to get there, he barked again, spun in a quick circle, and barked once more.
Tobias laughed. “We’re coming,” he said. “Come on,” he said to Alice. “This is one of Flynn’s favorite games.”
“Ooh, finding and retrieval is his speciality!” Alice said.
“It is indeed,” Tobias said, smiling. Flynn urged them on, and not just Tobias and Alice, but Elliot, Hector, Ninian, Sheena, and Akko all came along.
——
Guinevere let out a pleased sigh. Sitting on a couch, her hair wrapped in a towel, all the sweat and grime gone, dressed in clean clothes, Ava curled up beside her, her head in Guinevere’s lap… it was a lovely reward after strenuous exercise.
Nothing Lasts. Nothing is Finished. Nothing is Perfect.
I have a lot to think on. But for now…
She let out another sigh.
I think I’ll just enjoy this. We’ll be back on the road soon, traveling to Loch Reòsair, in search of an Intersection, clues to Elysia, and…
Crossing back to Albia. To Ars Moran.
Ava responded to the sudden tension in Guinevere, and she stroked Ava gently. Petting Ava always helped her calm down.
I didn’t think I’d have to go back to Albia until after reaching Elysia, making my wish, and seeing it fulfilled. If I’d known there would be clues in Ars Moran… in the cathedral of Ars Umbra, of all places…
But I didn’t know. I couldn’t have known. I’m sure Rosalie had no idea either, or she would have said something.
It’ll be all right. You won’t be going alone. And you don’t have to go home. You can leave the colossal disappointments who brought you into this world for after you’ve found Elysia and made your wish.
Just go see Rosalie, get her help, find what you need, and return to Wonderia. That shouldn’t be too hard.
So for now…
She started to sink back into the plush softness of the couch. But then she heard a song on the air. A lovely, dreamlike tune, wafting to her ears.
Beckoning her.
“Dormouse…?” she asked softly. She looked around, but there was no one here. No, the tune was distant still.
“Why does that song seem to call to me?” she asked. She looked at Ava, who had perked up as well at the sound of Dormouse’s lullaby. “Shall we go visit her again? Perhaps…”
“Fear only emboldens the Nightmare King.”
Guinevere suppressed a shudder.
Perhaps she’ll be awake, and able to make sense of my nightmares.
But… I’m… not sure I want to know what they mean.
Ava hopped down off the couch, padded to the door, and looked back at Guinevere. “You’re going to insist we go?” Guinevere asked. Ava’s left ear did a little flick, almost like a half-circle. “Is that a yes?” When Ava’s ear did the same motion again, virtually identical, Guinevere’s worries disappeared.
I’m learning to speak your language. To understand you! We’ll catch up to the others and their animal companions yet.
Guinevere checked her hair, found it satisfactorily dry — dry enough, at least — and unwrapped it from its towel, letting her long, thick curls fall across her shoulders. Sword belted at her side — just in case — she headed out, letting Ava lead the way.
Either of them could have led, though. Though they’d only been to Dormouse once, their feet moved onward as if they’d always known the way, as if it was as familiar as walking home. The tune grew louder, its gentle tones lulling Guinevere into a calm sense of safety. All had been well when last she’d met Dormouse. As long as the fiendish Cat didn’t pop into existence to spoil everything, this would be a pleasant visit. Wouldn’t it?
They found Dormouse’s door soon enough, and headed inside.
Dormouse lay asleep, breathing softly, muttering quietly under her breath.
“Dormouse?” Guinevere asked, approaching the slumbering mouse. “Your song… it called to me. Are you trying to tell me something?” But she stopped before she got too close, hesitating. Answers might soon be hers, but…
It’s… really up to that, isn’t it?
Do I want to understand?
Guinevere took a deep breath. She looked down at Ava, who regarded her with calm, loving encouragement.
“Fear only emboldens the Nightmare King.” If I’m afraid of knowing the truth… that’ll only make things worse.
“Fear cuts deeper than any blade,” Tycho always said. “Fear kills faster than any weapon of man. You fight a battle with yourself, Guin. We all do. To win any battle outside of yourself, you must always be mindful of the battle within.”
Fine, then. If fear is my enemy, if fear is what I must conquer, then conquer it I shall.
“Please, Dormouse,” she said, kneeling at the mouse’s bedside. “Help me understand.”
——
“Flynn, you’re amazing!” Alice cried, grinning broadly as Flynn raced back to them with a ball in his mouth — a ball he’d retrieved from a hiding place behind a bookshelf, a particularly devious hiding place that Alice had picked out, and that Flynn hadn’t seen her choose.
“He is that,” Tobias said, happy to see how much Alice enjoyed Flynn’s brilliance. And it made him pause, for a moment, reflecting.
Back when it all started — when mother and father were killed, when we were forced to find our own way — it was just Flynn and me, with Elliot and Hector. Just the four of us. And then… our Teacher. But for so long since, it’s been just him and me. I find him delightful. But of course I do. Seeing how much joy he can bring other people, though…
It’s like… it was always supposed to be this way.
Tobias shook his head, accepting the ball from Flynn. “That makes all four,” he said. “Care to go another round?” Flynn did a high bark and spun in place, tail wagging a million beats per minute. “All right, all right,” Tobias said, laughing. “Let’s calm down the barking, please.” He set out the four balls on the couch, each a different color — red, blue, green, and yellow. Dogs couldn’t see color very well, but each ball had its own unique texture and shading — and subtle aroma — that humans couldn’t detect, but made them easy to single out for canine senses. “Give me the order.”
Flynn tapped the balls with his nose, one by one, signaling it should be yellow, red, green, then blue. Alice giggled. “He always picks blue last,” she said.
“Every time,” Tobias said. Flynn’s tail wagged and wagged. “All right. Elliot, Hector? Care to escort him into the waiting room?”
“Gladly,” Elliot said, Hector’s tail wagged just as much as Flynn’s, even if he wasn’t actually playing — he was, unfortunately, a failure as a retrieval dog, and Flynn’s version of the finding game was quite high level — and he and Elliot took Flynn out into a second room, closing the door, so Flynn could have no clues of where the balls would be hidden.
“Sheena, do you want to pick a spot?” Alice asked, holding out the green ball.
“I’ll let Akko pick it,” Sheena said, smiling as she took the ball.
“Ninian, you too!” Alice said, handing Ninian the yellow ball. Ninian sang her happy acceptance, and headed off to pick a spot for it.
“I’ll take red again, and you’ll take blue,” Alice said. She said that with a bit of obvious meaning, and Tobias suppressed a sigh, or any other kind of reaction.
Yes, you’ve figured out my favorite color. Clever girl. But I’m not about to give you the satisfaction of a reaction.
Tobias and Alice headed off together, scouring the spacious reading room for excellent hiding spots. The game wasn’t as simple as “find all four balls, and bring them back in order.” No, Flynn and Tobias took things to an even higher level. If Flynn accidentally identified a ball out of order, then the round was called a loss, and they had to start all over, picking a new order and brand new hiding places.
So far, they’d played five rounds. And Flynn hadn’t had a single loss.
“This’ll stump him,” Alice said, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she tucked her ball behind several books on a corner shelf. Tobias stuffed his ball under a couch cushion, shoving it all the way to the back in a corner, smoothing things out so there was no visible sign that anything had been changed.
“All right, bring him in!” Tobias called. The door opened, and Flynn darted in — straight to Tobias. Because before he could go searching, he needed to follow protocol. “Salute!” Tobias said, and Flynn brought his left paw up to his shoulder. Tobias knelt before him and held out a hand. “Shake.” Flynn eagerly dropped his paw into Tobias’ hand, and they shook. “Ready?” Flynn’s ears perked up, his eyes came alight with joy, his tail wagged. Tobias grinned, letting the expectation stretch out. “And… search!”
Flynn darted away, sniffing the air, eyeing the whole space. He looked left, then right, thought for a moment, and then went left. A moment later, he dove into a stack of pillows, and emerged with a yellow ball.
“Off to a great start!” Alice said, beaming. Flynn dropped the yellow ball on the couch, then started off in his search again. But a moment into it, he paused. Tobias noticed a shift in his posture, and watched him closely. Flynn’s tail went up, then swished left, right, slowly — uncertainly. His ears flicked out, then tucked down slightly. He sniffed the air, but there wasn’t the same focus and energy as before. He was curious, and a bit nervous.
“Ooh, he’s stumped,” Alice said.
“No,” Tobias said. “Something’s wrong. Flynn? What is it?”
Flynn looked back at him, but he had as many questions as Tobias. Something was wrong. But Flynn didn’t know how to define it.
All of a sudden, there was a faint booming sound, deep, deep below them. A distant explosion? Machinery thundering to life? It was so distant, so faint, it was hard to know. But a moment later, it was followed by a tremor rippling through the floor. Slight — not enough to knock anyone off-balance, and only just perceptible enough to knock one book that was already halfway off its shelf onto the floor — but enough that it was noticed.
“Is everyone all right?” Elliot asked. Ninian had held onto him for support, and Hector sat beside him, pressed up against his leg, looking very unnerved by the situation.
“We’re fine,” Sheena said, Akko upright on her shoulder. His fluffy tail was taut, his long ears upright, his eyes darting around, his nose twitching, trying to identify the danger. “What was that?”
“I don’t know,” Alice said, shaking her head. “Nothing’s happened like that before. But if it’s from below…”
“The Vault,” Tobias said. The deepest level of the Library, where the deepest secrets were stored, along with much of the machinery that powered the Library. “We need to find —”
He stopped. He’d been about to say they need to find the Librarian, but Flynn’s sudden alertness, the anxious look in his eyes as he glanced at Tobias, changed the entire situation.
“Go,” Tobias said, breathless, worry flooding through him. Flynn sprinted away, out of the room, and Tobias ran to follow.
“What is it?” Alice said, hurrying after him with the others.
“Guin’s in danger! Come on!” Tobias called back. One hand on his sword hilt to steady it as he ran — and be ready to draw if needed — he raced as fast as he could, urging Flynn onward, hoping against all hope that he wouldn’t be too late.
——
Dormouse was silent. Guinevere listened closely, but there was just soft breathing. No words, no guidance at all. Just the mouse’s breathing, and the music box’s gentle lullaby.
And then… a soft chime. Something out of place — two discordant tones. They made Guinevere’s ears ring, and she winced. Ava whimpered, shaking her head. Guinevere stood, looking towards the music box, and gasped.
“You,” she said, staring wide-eyed.
It was the girl from the clearing. The girl in the black dress who looked just like Alice, sounded just like Alice, but was not Alice. A black butterfly barrette was clipped in her hair. “Hello,” Not-Alice said, smiling. “I’m glad you followed the music. This is where you need to be, after all.”
“Why are you here?” Guinevere asked. “I… I don’t want to see you anymore. I don’t trust you.”
“Oh, that’s all right,” Not-Alice said, unbothered. She looked over at the sleeping mouse and smiled sweetly. “Little Dormouse never truly wakes. Did you know that? She sleeps, and sleeps, and sleeps, forever. And in her dreaming, well…” Not-Alice turned aside, looking at the empty space beside her. “Librarian. Would you be so kind as to explain for our guest?”
The Librarian appeared, the everchanging man of light. “In Dormouse’s dreaming, entire worlds are born,” he said, his voice, like his face, changing from one to another throughout his speech. “A dream is a story, is it not? And a story is a world all its own. Dormouse’s dreams are endless stories, one upon the next upon the next.”
“Why…” Guinevere started. “Why was I drawn here?”
“You, too, are touched by deep dreams,” the Librarian said. “You need not fear them.”
And then the Librarian disappeared.
“You see?” Not-Alice asked. “Even the Librarian tells you not to be afraid of your dreams. Every songbird has their trial. If you’re to become who you’re meant to be, you’ll need to face him, not fear him.”
Guinevere’s heart stuck in her throat. Terror spread through her. She couldn’t move. Ava moved for her, barking a warning and leaping at Not-Alice — but she just passed right through her, as if the girl was a ghost.
Not-Alice laughed. “Oh, how bold,” she said. “I love your spirit — but I’m only here in spirit.” She giggled at that.
“Guin!” came Alice’s voice. Guinevere managed to wrench her eyes away, back to the door, to see Alice, Tobias, Flynn, Sheena, Akko, Elliot, Hector, and Ninian all racing down the aisle towards her, with Flynn leading the way.
“Ah, Obsidian,” Not-Alice said, eyeing Tobias with a glitter in her eyes. “Always too late, aren’t you? Always so helpless in the face of true danger. Don’t worry, though. When the time’s right, I’ll help you, too. But right now, it’s Guinevere’s time.” She turned back to Guinevere, smiling as she spoke in a singsong voice. “Time to face the Nightmare King, pretty songbird. Oh Dormouse, would you please bring the Promised Queen’s nightmare to life?”
Dormouse shifted under her blanket. Eyes still closed, she murmured sleepily, “As you wish.”
Not-Alice giggled, snapped her fingers, and the Library was plunged into darkness.