An Alchemist Abroad - Discet (2024)

Chapter 1: Found Foundry

Chapter Text

- Marcy's Journal -

Day 102 104 106

...

Sprig sat at the top of the fwagon's stairs looking out the roof hatch. In theory he was supposed to be gazing out at the amazing world beyond the valley, excited for all the adventure to be had. However, two different things were making this very difficult.

Sprig ducked his head down below to look into the main room. Polly was still asleep in her little drawer bed while Marcy was sitting alone in the breakfast nook. Marcy had her journal open but hadn't written anything in it yet. She held her pencil in one hand, rotely raising it and dropping it every few moments. Her gaze was fixated looking out the window. She had a... sad look to her that didn't fit right on his sister's face.

Sprig woke up bleary eyed to the sound of chittering of insects and other creatures. He had been tucked away on the bed in the fwagon and looked around wearily.

Hop Pop was up and standing near the doorway of the vehicle shaking his head sympathetically.

Sprig pulled himself out from the covers and stumbled to the door. Through it he could see what Hop Pop was looking at. Marcy, standing out in the clearing they had parked in. She was gazing out towards the forest and wasn't moving. Sprig cautiously ventured out and looked around, "... where's Anne?"

Marcy didn't answer at first, taking a slow deep breath to let out a shaky sigh. "We should get moving. The army will be following us soon."

Sprig paused, his sleepy head clearing up enough to start to piece together what had happened. "Shouldn't we wait for her though? She might..." he paused as Marcy looked back at him. Her eyes were still red and swollen from crying the night before.

Marcy nodded up to the roof of the fwagon. "She took her bag with her." she said, holding down something in her throat. She then looked over to the ground around the stump the two girls had sat at the night before. A clear line of shoe prints in the slightly moist ground led away towards the forest. "No sign of a struggle." Marcy observed and Sprig felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. Marcy’s eyes lingered on where the tracks led before reaching up and stubbornly wiping something from her eyes. "... we should get moving."

It'd been a few days since then and Marcy hadn't been the same. Sure she'd respond when spoken to and did all her chores whenever they set down to camp, but... she wasn't acting like Marcy! She wasn't working on some new gadget or expounding on some new idea or another. She hadn't even rambled about anything since they left the valley.

Sprig and Polly did their best to distract Marcy, and it would work in brief spurts. Playing a bit on her shift or asking her about projects she had in the works. Marcy always obliged with a smile, but even as she told them about a medusa curse or whatever, she didn't seem excited about it. Just indulging their curiosity.

As Sprig watched her, he saw her expression shift slightly, posture straightening as her glazed eyes focused on something. Sprig poked his head out the top of the fwagon again to look where Marcy was staring and his eyes shot open in awe. Just off the path was a constellation of waterfalls all meeting together in a single lake. Shimmering and bright mist mixed with rainbows in almost continuous waves of color. Sprig grinned, this was perfect! "A rainbow waterfall!" he announced, turning his attention to the front of the fwagon, "we've got to pull over!"

"Upp upp upp! Road rule number two-forty-three!" Hop Pop said from the driving bench. He was holding his book of road rules up high, "All natural phenomena lead to an unnatural death." He said before slamming the book shut and then turning his attention back to the road.

Sprig frowned and looked back down into the fwagon. Marcy's eyes tracked the waterfall for a little bit longer, but as it passed out of her sight Sprig saw her eyes glaze over again and go back to staring out at the rolling green hills.

Sprig sunk in his seat and groaned, this was the second thing that was making this whole experience difficult. Hop Pop's road rules book kept them all cooped up in the fwagon. Which would be bad enough on its own, but it also meant there was nothing to distract Marcy! Back on the second day Sprig had tried to convince her to sneak out with him, but Marcy refused saying she didn't want to 'cause any more trouble for all of them.'

But that was okay. All Sprig needed was something so exciting and cool that even Hop Pop wouldn't be able to resist pulling over for it!

Sprig groaned as he laid face down on the floor of the fwagon. It’d been two days.

Nothing could tempt his grandfather away from the driver’s seat. Not the fields of prismatic roses. Not the world's greatest diner. Not even a local farmers market for frogs sake! That was how desperate Sprig was for anything, anything, else to do, he was excited over the chance to go to a market. Sprig was so frustrated. Once in a lifetime opportunities were literally passing them by and he could do nothing but watch them slip through his fingers.

And Marcy still wasn't herself.

"Red Alert Kids! We're coming up on The Ruins of Despair." Hop Pop called from above with grave warning.

Sprig got up and went to the door of the fwagon and opened the top half to get a better look. Dotting the hills around the road were strange stone and metal structures in the shapes of frogs, with big screw-like eyes and great mouths overgrown with foliage. Sprig felt a presence behind him and realized that Marcy had come up behind him to get a better look, "Woah... what is this place?" Marcy whispered to herself and then spoke up towards Hop Pop, "Hop Pop, what's this place about?"

"No one knows. Those’ve been around since before any written history. Just a mystery better left unsolved as far as I'm concerned." Hop Pop intoned, ending the discussion.

Sprig frowned at the restrictiveness and then looked back up at Marcy. His sister was looking out at the structures with wide, conflicted eyes. Her fingers tapped rhythmically on the door sill as they went on. Sprig could see her curiosity warring with her desire to not cause trouble. Luckily she had Sprig around to advocate for a good time. "Hey Hop Pop, uh, isn't it about time for lunch? How about we stop for a little bit?"

"Sprig, we're not stopping in a place called ‘ The Ruins of Despair .’ We'll follow the guidelines in the book and find a nice safe featureless field to eat in."

"But Hop Pop!" Sprig hopped from the door up to the roof of the fwagon, "This place is amazing!"

"Sprig-" Hop Pop turned but they were both distracted by Polly.

"Uh, guys? Army, two o'clock!" she whispered and they both looked up, on an upcoming hill, just off the road were a pair of amphibians in Newtopian Army garb. They were sitting against the fence posts with their roaches close by. Their backs were to the fwagon for the moment but that could change with just a turn of their heads.

"We can't be spotted," Hop Pop said in a hush, pulling Bessie and the fwagon off course towards one of the mysterious structures. "The Newtopian army is one of the most disciplined forces in all of Amphibia. If they catch wind we're out here, who knows what might happen?" he said in a low tone.

Private Beverly bit into her favorite lunch of the week, a Beetle steak sandwich covered with Sal's special sauce she had picked up on her last visit to Newtopia. She couldn't always spring for beetle steak, but once a week she treated herself. She washed down the bite with gnawberry juice and sighed, "You know Wendy, I love these totally routine patrol routes with you. I know we're supposed to be on the lookout for trouble, but it's honestly so relaxing."

"Can I let you in on a secret Bev?" Private Wendy, an axolotl, asked a little conspiratorially. She didn't wait for an answer, they'd worked together for so long that there was no question of Beverly’s response, "I haven't looked at the bounty board in weeks . If traitors came waltzing right by us? Wouldn't know it."

"Can I let you in on a secret Wendy?" Wendy raised a brow waiting for an answer. "Me neither!"

The two laughed and tittered before returning to enjoying their midday repast.

"They're the ruthless arm of the law." Hop Pop whispered to Polly as they pulled behind one of the strange buildings, this one had a tree growing out of it. Hop Pop looked about with a frown on his face. "We'll hide out back here until the guards move along, then we'll continue on our way..."

Sprig hopped out, followed quickly by Marcy who held her journal in one arm while the other started to sketch out the strange building. Hop Pop shook his head. Didn't they know how dangerous places like this could be?

"Kids don't wander off too far," he chastised. He only got a frown and eye roll from his grandson and Marcy was clearly lost in her own thoughts again.

"Prehistoric structures, but this design… not to mention the metallurgy involved..." Marcy spoke mostly to herself as she went to a big archway running her fingers across the stone. Sprig walked beside her looking at the different bits with his own wide-eyed stare.

"Marcy get away from there!" Hop Pop hopped off the fwagon..

Marcy turned, her hand pressed against a design inset into the large archway. "Oh, uh, sorry Hop Pop, I was just-" her weight leaned into the design and the entire symbol suddenly clunked inward and the archway rapidly opened like a doorway, "-wuh oh." Marcy fell back through the opening and down a shiny metal ramp into the structure.

"Marcy!"

Sprig jumped after her immediately but Hop Pop turned to Polly, "Polly, you stay right there and don't do anything!" he instructed before jumping in.

Hop Pop struggled to keep his feet underneath him as he slipped and slid down the ramp, picking up more speed. In front of him, Marcy was sliding down on her back, using her sweatshirt as a cushion. Sprig tried sprinting down to catch up, but he tripped and tumbled down the ramp. Marcy intercepted him mid-tumble and pulled him into her arms before they bottomed out at the base of the ramp. Hop Pop tried to avoid them, but ended up crashing into Marcy before tumbling ass over end on the masoned stone floor.

"Hop Pop are you alright?" Marcy asked, letting go of Sprig and hurrying over to Hop Pop.

"Just a little banged up is all. Let's head back up, I don't like Polly being up there al-"

An echoing cry of excitement came from the ramp, and a few moments later Polly came speeding into view, using a blanket as a sled to go down the ramp. "That was so much fun!" She grinned then stopped when Hop Pop scowled at her. "Bessie made me do it."

Hop Pop shook his head looking around the strange room. Dominating the room was an imposing round statue in the shape of a bulbous frog. The room itself was alternatingly stone and metal, overgrown with tree roots clawing their way in from above. A nest of rabbicoons hissed at them before running off through a hole leading toward the surface. There were odd bits and bobs he couldn't make sense of. Several different fixtures around the room were studded with glowing lights of some kind.

"These don't look like mushrooms…" Sprig said, poking at one of the lights before licking it, "They look more like your shroom light huh, Marcy?" Sprig asked, turning to his older sister, who was looking around in wonder.

Marcy started looking around the room, slack jawed, her book clutched in her hand but mostly forgotten. "I think... these are computers!" Marcy said in a tone of excitement that made Hop Pop uneasy. "That means programming and circuitry and- oh frog this place is a treasure trove of lost technology!" Marcy splayed her hands out. "Oooh Oh man what did they make here? The lights are on, is there still some power here? Sprig, help me find the power switch or-." Her eyes glanced up to the statue which had a massive lever coming out from its face. "There, I bet that-"

"Absolutely not!" Hop Pop said preemptively. "We have no idea how dangerous this place is. We can hide out here until those guards go on their way, but nobody's touching anything. " He put on his authoritative voice and Marcy calmed down a bit.

"Right, right. Sorry Hop Pop..." she said, rubbing the back of her head.

Hop Pop sighed, "Good now, let's- Sprig!" Sprig was jumping up the large statue towards the lever in its face, landing on it nimbly. "Don't you dare! Rule Number 68: Never ever pull a lever!" Sprig turned to look at him with a defiant scowl. Hop Pop furrowed his brow back at him but Sprig wasn't backing down. He jumped up with all the might in his legs and then slammed down on the lever with a mechanical ‘clunk’. Hop Pop flinched waiting for something to explode or come out and grab them.

When nothing happened he opened his eyes, frowning at Sprig.

"Huh, you know I really thought something more would - whoa," All of a sudden the lever Sprig had been standing on retracted into the statue and left him in freefall. He landed with a light thud, it wasn't a dangerous height for a frog. What was far more worrisome was the room coming to life all around them. The floor was lighting up in a shade of new growth green. Lighter green lights bathed a strange circular corridor that sat just beyond a set of massive glass windows. Hop Pop marveled at seeing more glass than he had ever seen in one place.

" Start up engaged. " A strange almost gargled voice came from the statue that now also had green lights all across its body. It's head suddenly extended up revealing a bright screen similar to the phone and shift Marcy carried around.

"Woah! The building can talk?" Sprig said with excitement but then hesitated. "Uh, not sure how I feel about that..."

Images started to flicker on the screen, dozens of pictures and messages in ancient Amphibian.

"Assembly line activated, routine protocols engaged."

"Assembly line!" Marcy whirled around to watch as dozens of machines sprung to life in that odd corridor, where various devices and gadgets of all sorts seemed to be making... something. "This was a factory! Fully automated too! This is incredible!" Marcy couldn't keep the excitement out of her voice as she sprinted over towards the towering statue-computer and started to climb up it. Sprig offered her a hand as she got close to the top and she clambered up to the controls.

"Marcy!" Hop Pop called out but she was lost for the moment. He did get Sprig's attention who frowned at him.

"Oh man, I think this place is for making robots!" Marcy called out as she started to work the controls.

"Marcy would you- ugh." Hop Pop strode forward intending to go up there and get her to stop, but Sprig jumped down in front of him to block his path.

"Stop, just let her tinker with it for a little bit..." Sprig said with his hands thrown up in a blocking gesture.

Hop Pop sighed. Didn't Sprig understand how irresponsible this all was? "Sprig this stuff could be dangerous! Marcy!" Hop Pop tried to walk around his grandson but Sprig stopped him, lightly shoving him back.

"No!" Sprig hissed under his breath.

Hop Pop staggered back, now starting to get a bit annoyed, but he made sure to leach any anger out of his voice before talking "Now listen-"

"No you listen," Sprig whispered with fists clenched, looking more determined than Hop Pop had seen in a long time. He gestured back towards Marcy, still absorbed in the console. "This is the first time Marcy's smiled , really smiled, in days!" He took a determined step forward, shoulders shaking a little, "and I'm not gonna let you ruin it because you're afraid of her!"

Hop Pop opened his mouth to retort but found himself stunned into silence. Little tears of frustrated tears beaded at the corners of Sprig's eyes. This wasn't some temper tantrum about being stuck in the fwagon all day, he was genuinely angry. “Sprig…”

"Additional materials required. Please place them on the glowing access point."

Sprig was for a moment distracted by the announcement, "Glowing what now?" The green circle beneath Sprig glowed brighter and suddenly two metal loops clamped over his feet. "Uh- Waaa!" the floor suddenly dropped down, swallowing Sprig whole.

"Sprig!?" Hop Pop screamed out.

Marcy was sitting crisscrossed in front of the computer. She was working out the general keyboard layout despite some difficulties. Her mind was going a mile a minute. How did this world enter this dark age? Who programmed these machines and what were they like? Why did the ancient Amphibian spoken from the computer sound like modern English? This computer was at least a thousand years removed from the modern day! Earth English a thousand years ago didn't sound like modern English, for frog’s sake! How has there been no linguistic drift!?

Marcy was shaken out of her focus by Hop Pop's scream and whirled around, scanning the room for her family. Polly had been off investigating some corner of the room, Hop Pop's hands were clutching his sparse hair in panic, and Sprig was nowhere to be seen.

"It kind of tickles hehe." Sprig’s voice called out, echoing around the walls of the factory. Eventually some movement on the conveyor belt caught her eye and Sprig popped up, feet bound to the conveyor belt's track, "Huh, this is kind of cool!"

Marcy did not think this was 'kind of cool' as her eyes scanned further along the track to the machine that seemed to shape the bodies of the robots, which slammed down with what she was sure was lethal force. Marcy took a breath, focused her mind and beat out a pattern with her index-fingers, 'one-two-one.'

Suddenly the world slowed down and Marcy scooched her projected self up over to the edge of the statue, swinging her legs over the side. She looked around, curious where her double would pop up from. A pat on the back told her they had appeared behind her.

"Not practice this time?" Ram inquired pleasantly. They came to sit down next to Marcy looking out at the situation in front of them.

Sprig was on a crash course with a series of lasers of unknown power level. Hop Pop was in the middle of turning away from Sprig and towards Marcy. Polly was hopping towards the commotion, a little worry creased on her brow.

"Alright, options..." Marcy said, and saw a small projection of herself jump from the statue. Marcy winced at the high odds Ram gave her of snapping her ankle. With a thought it was changed to conservative climb half way down the statue before jumping. Precious time lost, but better than snapping her ankle and being able to do nothing. "We could use some of the debris to get through the glass... but."

Ram waved their hand and a simulation played out of Marcy hurling a chunk of metal robot through one of the windows, running to Sprig and then struggling to get him free. "We wouldn't have a way to actually break him out." Ram agreed. "There's the crowbar in the fwagon, however...''

"No time to get it..." Marcy nodded. The two ran through other possibilities, incorporating Hop Pop or Polly’s help, but even under ideal circ*mstances with both of them reacting without hesitation it was slim odds on getting to Sprig in time. Both Marcy and Ram let out a sigh. "Whelp, looks like that's really the best option huh?"

They both turned around to the large alien computer radiating a soft glow similar to an old CRT monitor. It was all written in ancient Amphibian. Marcy had run into it before in the archives and with some help from Mrs. Croaker, she had managed to create a cipher to study from. That said, she didn't have time to translate each option.

"We might not be able to read it all." Ram agreed, though didn’t sound worried.

"But we do know UI design..." Marcy said, already planning out her pathing through the alien menus. Without referencing her notes, she could only translate the most common letters. Her eyes focused on a tab titled 'S-ste-'. Assuming that was 'System' she could probably find something to shut down the assembly line from there.

"Alright, sounds like you have it from here." Ram said standing up and brushing off non existent dust from their skirt. "Before I go I just wanted to say again, that it would be smart to learn to leverage your other 'spell' on command." Marcy frowned up at her double, this was a discussion they have had before. "We both know it would be a useful tool to have in your back pocket."

Marcy sighed, shaking her head. She remembered the pit in her stomach she felt coming out of her trajectory spell after fighting Yunan. "I'll make due." Marcy insisted and Ram nodded without argument. Marcy focused on the screen before closing her eyes and tapping out the reverse pattern: 'two-one-two'.

She opened her eyes back in her real body before immediately turning and starting to navigate menus with what were the equivalent of the tab and enter keys.

"Marcy! Stop fiddling with that doohickey and help!" Hop Pop called out. Marcy heard the sound of glass cracking, but not shattering.

Marcy ignored the criticism navigating to the system tab. The screen brought up a long list of options and Marcy scanned through them, finding one she could translate as ‘-sse--l- l-ne’ she hit the enter key.

"Ahhh!" Sprig called from behind as he approached the laser cutters. Marcy resisted the urge to look behind her and instead focused on her new options. Sifting through the different options she saw one for ‘l-ser -le-ner’. She rapidly hit the tab key to navigate to the large ‘x’ next to the entry. She hit enter and glanced over her shoulder to see the lasers flicker off just before Sprig was to pass through. Marcy let out a sigh before returning to the console to try and shut it down for good. Marcy had a little time since he was heading towards a power washer of some kind. "Marcy! Hurry! I've already had a bath this week!" Sprig pleaded from behind her.

Marcy rolled her eyes as she searched rapidly through her options. She realized that most of the options were referring to various machines along the assembly line, but she couldn’t fathom what that crushing device was called and only being able to read bits and pieces of a word didn’t help. As she navigated down the list she heard Sprig’s gurgled cries as he went through the power washer. She was running out of time.

Then at the very bottom she found an option ‘-sse--l- l-ne s--t---n’ She navigated to it and hit the large x on the side.

"Marcy for the love of frog would you stop-" Hop Pop called out just before the entire production line came to a slow halt, all of the machines whirring down.

“Assembly Line Shutdown”

Marcy turned, Sprig had come to a halt just a few feet before the crushing machine, soaked from head to toe, and bound by his hands and feet to the conveyor belt; but he wasn’t hurt.

"Oh." Hop Pop said with a little bit of surprise. Polly had joined in on trying to break down the glass with her mace. Even as everything shut down and the danger passed, Polly reared back and shattered the glass anyway.

"Nice one Marcy!" Sprig said, looking quite relieved. “Uh… any way to get me out of here?”

Marcy slowly started to clamber down the statue-computer, "I'll go get the crowbar, give me a second." Marcy trekked up the steep ramp to the surface. She glanced briefly around for the army before scrambling into the fwagon for the crowbar and then sliding back down on her back.

Marcy carefully cleared the rim of jagged glass before walking down the conveyor belt. She took time to admire the various bits of machinery along the way. Reaching Sprig, she carefully employed the crowbar to break the metal bindings one by one.

"Sorry Sprig-" Marcy grunted as she threw her weight into breaking the last metal binding "I cut that a bit close..."

“That’s okay,” Sprig only grinned as he jumped up and hugged Marcy around the neck, "I trusted you." Sprig said, glancing back out to the main chamber.

Marcy glanced in the same direction, she smiled and waved at Hop Pop, who was looking in from the other side of the glass. He smiled back weakly, which was reasonable, considering how dangerous that had been. Marcy was still a bit jittery herself. Marcy kept a hold of Sprig as she walked across the broken glass on the conveyor belt. "Hey, you want to come and watch me fiddle with that computer?"

"Sure!"

When they got back to the breech where Polly and Hop Pop waited, Marcy grimaced. “If… that’s okay with you Hop Pop?”

Hop Pop didn’t look happy about it but nodded, “I guess it’s best we understand what exactly we’re dealing with, for better or worse.”

Marcy grinned before jogging off towards the computer, mind already racing with possibilities.

Polly watched as her family went about freeing Sprig and returning to the strange computer that they had found down here. Polly was less interested in all that. Marcy had tried to explain the concept of programming and junk to Polly in the past, and while it made sense to her, Polly found it extremely boring. She was much more interested in the physical side of things: gears, pulleys, motors, and now: robots!

Fortunately however this had distracted everyone so she could look around this whole factory without any supervision. Polly found a small opening behind the big weird statue-computer and hopped on through.

Behind the opening was the rest of the factory, with various suspended walkways, rusted machinery, and parts that couldn't be seen up above. Polly marveled at the interwoven bits of machinery. Marcy had explained the concept of a factory to Polly before but it was entirely different to see it all in person. All these different machines working in concert for the singular purpose of creating something! It was so cool!

Polly went hopping along the catwalk looking at the final stages of the assembly line. Most of the robots were still in mid-creation when Marcy had shut down the assembly line. However at the very end was a single finished robot standing in the dull green light. It stood next to a wall full of buttons and switches, all labeled in a language that Polly could not understand. Polly made her way over to it, hopping down from the catwalk to poke and prod at the brand new yet ancient creation.

"Man... you're so cool..." Polly eyes sparkled before glancing around. This was the first time in almost a week she'd had a moment to herself really.

Even with all the machines on standby there was still enough ambient noise that it drowned out any conversation that was happening in the main room.

Polly sighed for a moment, resting between the feet of the strange frog robot "You know... I've seen Sprig talk to his stuffed animals sometimes... I always thought that was kind of lame, but you're, like, a rad machine, so I think it's okay to talk to you..." Polly let out a sigh as she considered her words. "So... don't, like, narc or whatever, but me and my family are on the run from the law. They think my grandpa is a traitor... My brother broke into a military fort to save my sister, and my sister is actually a traitor! She destroyed Toad Tower for frog's sake and then fought and defeated this badass general lady! Which is cool but..." Polly shook her little body from side to side, "I feel like I'm just not living up to my full potential you know? I mean, I always thought if the family had to go on the run from the law it'd be because of me! But I'm just along for the ride!" Polly flung her flippers up in frustration as she monologued to the robot.

Said robot loomed over her, yellow eyes flickering on.

Sprig grinned looking up at Marcy as she typed away on the keyboard. Her tongue was sticking out just slightly like it always did when she was in deep thought. Hop Pop was back at the cart making sure everything was fixed up and ready for them to go. He hadn't tried to stop Marcy again, which was a win enough for Sprig.

"Hey, you said this place was supposed to be making robots right? What are those?" Sprig asked, looking around at all the neat technology around the place.

"Oh, uh, you remember X-1 from the second Vagabondia game? The one that was made of metal and walked around like a person?" Marcy asked and Sprig nodded, "Well that's a robot, a machine that is able to do things like a person does." Marcy explained, "Though looking at some of these schematics, these robots were a lot more advanced than any of the ones back on Earth. Not to mention the AI programming is super advanced."

"I thought everything in your world was more advanced than Amphibia?"

"I did too! That's how important this place is! The technology here could change the world if it was studied and replicated!" Marcy said excitedly. Sprig watched as she fished some kind of strange wire from her bag with two little doodads on each end. “And I intend to learn all about it.”

"-and I can't just kill Anne for ditching us! Cause that would probably just make Marcy sadder!" Polly said letting out a frustrated breath. "... I wonder if this is what Hop Pop meant when he said violence can't solve everything... maybe I can just maim her..." she rubbed at her chin in thought before looking up at the robot. "Well, thanks for listening, but I should probably stop talking to myself now. Too bad you're shut off or whatever, or maybe we could play some more."

As the shadow shifted over Polly she looked back to see the looming robot bent over, its arms reaching out to grab her.

"Uh oh."

Marcy grinned as she used a pair of pliers to police the wires of her phone's old charging cable and a few of the wires from the alien computer together. Once completed she plugged in her phone and looked expectantly up to the computer. To her delight a security message popped up, accompanied by the robotic woman's voice, " Foreign device detected please- " Marcy plugged in the password before the computer could finish the request. She had found the code earlier scrawled on a paper underneath the console. Some things never changed.

Marcy navigated to the new data storage which was a bit of a chore. Despite how advanced a lot of all this was, the UI design felt downright prehistoric. The lack of a mouse or trackpad really made navigating a pain in the butt.

She started to download some of the more interesting files along with the OS- it's file size was pitiful. It'd take a little bit of doing, but she was confident she could program an emulator on her phone given some time. Still that was a project for later. For the moment she pulled up a very special folder she never thought she would get to use and dragged it over into the alien operating system. Then she started tinkering with the C program hidden within to adapt the programming into something that would work for her.

Sprig was watching with curious bated breath as Marcy started to identify and format the program to run with the ancient alien computer. "So what are you doing?"

"Kind of hard to explain, but if this works it might be the most important achievement of my life thus far," Marcy said, only exaggerating a little. "Alright, I think that's the display driver on this thing... let's test that..." An ungodly digital screech peeled out from the computer until Marcy stopped it, "Okay, no, that was the sound card..." she adjusted the settings, saved everything, and then hit the executable to run.

Marcy was rewarded as a new window popped up onto the screen, the whole screen was a black box for a few moments before a synth guitar rift sounded through the ancient foundry. A yellow background came sinking up from the bottom of the screen, revealing a dozen pixelated rotting limbs clawing at the air. "Yes! Yes! Yes!" Marcy chanted. Then rising between that background and foreground was a massive heavy metal font in all black accompanied by the visceral co*cking of a shotgun. Then, with the following firing of the shotgun, the iconic game logo blew out into color.

[ Original Art by Jimiyo ]

Marcy felt genuine elation at the sight as she grinned and started to punch at the air in front of her "I got Boom to run on this thing!" Marcy said, slamming her palms down on the console.

"Boom?" Sprig asked curiously.

"It's basically the forerunner of all first person shooters!" Marcy explained, giddy. "It's dated by today's standards but it set the foundation for the entire genre! It's also famously easy to port onto hardware that was never meant to run games, and I got it to run on a totally alien computer!" Marcy explained.

By the look on Sprig's face she could tell the significance was totally lost on him, but he seemed happy for her in any case.

"Sprig, would you mind taking a picture of me?" Marcy checked to make sure all the stuff she wanted to download had made it over before unplugging her phone and switching over to her camera app. Sprig obliged, getting the screen in the picture while Marcy winked and held up a peace sign.

"What's this game about?" Hop Pop asked from down below, looking skeptically up at the bloody corridor that started off the first level.

"Oh, well, it's an important game but not exactly the most nuanced." Marcy admitted taking the controls and charging through the stone medieval corridors picking up guns and blasting away zombies and demons. "You're basically just this normal guy that got thrown into the past and has to fight through a horde of zombies. People used to say it was gratuitously violent but honestly it never bothered me much..." Marcy said but as she blew apart a zombie knight into pixelated meat chunklets she frowned a little. This... probably wasn't the best material for her already violence prone little sister to be absorbing. "Though, in retrospect, maybe it is a bit much." She hit the pause button and looked around not seeing the little pollywog anywhere. "Uh... either of you got eyes on Polly?" Marcy asked, looking between Hop Pop and Sprig.

Echoing through the walls of the factory came a scream from down below.

"Polly!" All three of them said in unison.

Sprig jumped off the statue pointing down where Marcy couldn't see. "Through here!" he called while Marcy slowly climbed down the raised platform, bag slung onto her back.

Hop Pop hurried after Sprig, struggling through with a little effort.

Marcy found the same hole which was... far too small for her. "Okay then… I’ll just…" Marcy sat down and started to scooch her way inside, kicking up a millennia worth of dust and setting off a sneezing fit.

Sprig rushed through the gap first and sprinted forward through the large cavernous room behind the computer. Polly's calls of alarm could still be heard and he saw her in the distance.

He vaulted off one of the catwalks to the floor down below and came to a sudden surprised stop. A robot had a hold of Polly, then didn't, then did again. The robot was tossing the little pollywog up and down as Polly let out screams of delight.

"Ahahaa! Higher, higher- oh hey Sprig, Hop Pop, look I found a new friend!" Polly said mid toss, "I was thinking of calling him Frobo, cause he looks like a frog robot! Can we keep him?"

Hop Pop caught up, chest heaving. "Polly... don't go off... on your own..." he said between deep breaths.

"Huh." Sprig said, looking a little smug. "Looks like pulling that lever had no negative consequences whatsoever." Sprig grinned and put his hand out to casually lean a console. However, his palm slammed into a big red button and set off a siren.

" Emergency defenses activated! " the robotic voice intoned.

Hop Pop scowled over at Sprig.

"Okay, in my defense, that had nothing to do with the lever." Turrets popped down from the ceiling and started to fire green lasers causing Sprig and Hop Pop to dance around before leaping under the catwalk. They both stuck to the underside for cover as the lasers continued to fire all around them.

Both Sprig and Hop Pop looked back worriedly to the robot that held Polly, but the lasers weren't targeting them at all. In fact as the robot innocently walked towards Sprig and Hop Pop the lasers actively avoided firing at it. Polly was squirming in Frobo's grasp, trying to get a good look at the turrets. "Frobo, come on, let me see!"

"Oh good Polly's safe." Hop Pop said, still worried but slightly relieved.

"They're not shooting at Frobo..." Sprig said thoughtfully before his eyes widened, "they think he's one of them!"

"Frobo! Destroy those things!" Polly called out. Frobo looked around the room. Frobo after a moment looked back at Polly with question marks in his eyes.

"Throw things at them!" Sprig provided. At Frobo's continued confusion, Sprig tongued a small rock and quickly ducked out of cover, threw it wildly and then ducked back, "Throw!" he provided again.

Frobo's yellow lit eyes turned to a large chunk of fallen roof. He extended an arm out without moving from his spot while the other cradled Polly. He picked up the chunk effortlessly and then hurled it at one of the turrets. The turret caved in, reduced to a sparking mess of twisted metal.

"Yeah! Good job Frobo! Keep it up!" Polly encouraged.

Frobo seemed to smile with his metallic mouth and started to walk around grabbing up big pieces of debris and hurling them at each of the turrets until all of them were destroyed.

"Way to go Frobo!" Polly said to the robot’s delight.

Sprig dropped down from the catwalk and strode out into the open. "Well, that wasn’t too bad!"

"Stationary defenses neutralized." The computer intoned without emotional investment.

"That's right!" Polly said, pointing up at the ceiling.

"Is everyone okay!?" Marcy came stumbling to the edge of the platform that overlooked the floor of the room, a cloud of dust in her wake and coating her dark hair.

"We're all alright!" Polly said, gesturing proudly to their protector. "thanks to our new friend Frobo!"

"A working robot!" Marcy grinned in excitement. "Oh man what-"

"Stationary defenses neutralized, no registered defenders remaining." the computer repeated as the building began to rumble, "Protocol: Overrun initiated. Self destruct in 60 seconds."

"Alright! You heard it, we gotta go!" Marcy called down to the frogs and forced herself down into the hole. She tried crawling in on her stomach this time, getting by a little faster. She made better time and looked back at the hole expectantly for her family to come through.

She saw Sprig bowl Polly through the opening, and Marcy caught her on the other side, starting to jog while keeping an eye behind her. Sprig came through next and helped Hop Pop after him. Satisfied Marcy started to make a run for the entrance.

"Wait!" Polly said, alarmed, "What about Frobo?"

That was answered a moment later when the robot came crashing through the wall like it was made of tissue paper. She hit the ramp and started to run up it as best she could; her shoes gave her the barest hint of traction against the slick metal. Sprig was hopping up the ramp in front of her. Hop Pop was attempting to do the same but was clearly having trouble keeping up. His ride down the ramp earlier had done his old body no favors. Marcy started to slow, intending to offer Hop Pop some assistance.

Fortunately Frobo looked up to see Marcy carrying Polly, looked down at the struggling Hop Pop and simply mimicked the human girl, scooping up the Plantar Patriarch in his arms. Then a few moments later as Marcy's breath started to get labored Frobo sprinted forward and scooped up the human and pollywog both. Not wanting to be left out, Sprig jumped on for a ride as well. As the robot effortlessly carried them up the passageway, Marcy felt like they might just make it. That was when the first explosion sounded from below.

Marcy twisted in Frobo's arms to look down. A plume of dark smoke came into view at the bottom of the ramp. This was quickly followed by explosion after explosion. Marcy looked forward, they were close but not close enough if this whole place was about to go up in flames. She pulled Sprig and Hop Pop into her hold, clutching them close to her with all her strength. "Frobo! Throw us up there!"

A thunderous explosion sounded beneath them, and a column of fire chased them up the metal corridor. The sweet innocent robot, willing to do anything to help, hugged the little cobbled together family, spun around, extended his arms for more momentum and then hurled the four of them up the corridor like a hammer toss.

Marcy clung tightly to her family, clenching her eyes shut. Even as the heat built up on her back she didn't let go. Just before she felt like they were going to be consumed by the flame she felt the cool air of the outside and the heat dispersing into a much wider area. Marcy blinked her eyes open seeing the world around her spinning wildly around. Then gravity took over and they all remembered to scream as in a stroke of great luck they hit the downslope of one of the rolling hills. Marcy lost her grip after landing and the Plantar family ragdolled down the hillside, coming to a stop at the bottom.

Marcy landed face down groaning and sore but she didn't feel like anything was broken. She looked up to see the Plantars similarly sprawled, but all groaning with life. "Anything broken?" she asked, getting a round of negative answers. She sighed, warm and happy that they were all safe. Kind of really warm actually.

Sprig looked back at Marcy before letting out a call of alarm. "Marcy! You're on fire!" Marcy glanced back and felt intense warmth on her face and started to roll on the moist dew covered grass as Sprig started to toss loose dirt at her back. Between the two of them they managed to extinguish the fire.

That brief panic out of the way they all pulled themselves to their feet, Marcy picked up Polly and they all meandered back over the hill to where Bessie and the fwagon waited, thankfully undamaged. Though not everyone was so lucky.

"Frobo..." Polly let out sadly as they came down the hill.

The frog head edifice had been blown apart or caved in along with the entrance. The helpful robot Polly had found was buried at the mouth of the entrance. Marcy walked over to the strange robot. Marcy hadn't had much time with him, but she knew that he had saved her family twice in just a short time, and had gotten destroyed in the process.

Polly frowned down at the body and then up at Marcy questioningly.

Marcy took a slow breath as she moved down to pat the robot on the head. "If I recall correctly... the hard drive was located in the head..."

"Hard drive?" Polly asked, looking down at Frobo.

"It's the brain, basically." Marcy explained succinctly, "so maybe we could rebuild him? It won't be easy but..."

Despite the warning Polly got excited at the prospect, "Oh right! He’s a machine!" She hopped out of Marcy's grasp and down to the ground. She started to try and pry the head off from the rest of the body. “Don’t worry Frobo, we’re gonna build you a super cool new body!”

"Uh, Polly, you might want to be a little more careful with him, we can probably excavate more parts from-"

"Are you folks alright?" came a voice from the road and Marcy looked over to the two guards they had seen earlier.

Marcy pursed her lips before leaning down and pulling on the robot’s head as well. The sisters managed to tear the head off from the rest of the body, "We're fine thank you!" Marcy responded, holding Polly under one arm and Frobo's head under the other as she sprinted back towards the fwagon.

"Thanks for your concern!" Hop Pop added as he snapped the reins. Bessie chirped and they sped away from the two clueless soldiers.

The two soldiers shrugged, not terribly concerned, though this would make for an interesting anecdote if they ran into any other soldiers on the road.

The night was dark when the Plantars found a place to rest. Marcy was emptying the contents of her shoe into a small component pouch. Gravel of an ancient ruin was useful for a couple of curses she’d been working on. She still felt a buzz of excitement from the ancient factory.

Marcy was sitting on the stoop of the fwagon with the side door left open. She was keeping an eye on Sprig and Polly while Hop Pop was hunting for grubs and other things for that night’s dinner. Polly was contenting herself with Marcy's journal inside the fwagon, reading up on the basics of wiring and electronics in preparation of their next big project.

Marcy looked up from the phone at Sprig who was digging through her shoulder bag for some snacks that Marcy had saved from Wartwood. "Oh, hey!" he pulled out a pair of sticks, "what are these for?"

Marcy blinked. "Oh wow, I didn't know I still had those... These are my old drumsticks." Marcy held out her hands for them.

Sprig obliged, handing them over, "You play the drums?"

"Sure do!" Marcy smiled, spinning the two drumsticks before bending down and doing a quick drum roll on the wood of the fwagon before using the rim of the stew pot as a cymbal replacement.

Sprig clapped in amazement, "Wow, you're really good! Where'd you learn to play?"

Marcy grinned as the shadow of memories came over her face, "Anne, Sasha and I were in a garage band together, Sasha and the Sharps," Marcy said, absentmindedly starting to tap out a beat. "Back in 6th grade, Sasha came up one day saying that we were all entering the talent show at the end of the month... Even though Anne and I had never touched an instrument before," Marcy chuckled, she had been pretty nervous at the prospect originally, but Sasha's confidence had always been infectious. "tried out a couple of different instruments, but after a couple of... incidents, we decided it would be best for me to remain seated." she switched up the beat, unconsciously starting the backbeat to Heart Stomper, "so the drums were perfect for me."

Marcy smiled wistfully recalling their early practice sessions. Sasha had been a ruthless taskmaster, but they actually sounded halfway decent for the talent show. Despite it being their first performance they ended up burying the other contestants and taking home first prize. From there, band practice became one of their routine hangout excuses. They'd all meet up at Anne's house, since her parents were usually at the restaurant after school. Sasha would give them some instruction and fine tune their limited set list. Most of the time though, they would just hang out talking with the instruments in hand. Joking about plans for what they'd do if they ever 'hit it big.'

The memories took on a bittersweet taste as she thought back on them, mixing with memories of their reunion here in Amphibia. Sasha's teasing reprimands at practice juxtaposed with her furious glare in the moment before Marcy blew the mind control powder into her face. Anne's giggles and earnest smile as she played during a performance against the hurt look of betrayal she had that night.

Marcy sighed as her drumming lost a bit of its tempo, a lump forming in her throat, "m' a heart stomper... stompin' on hearts..."

"Nooooo!" Sprig suddenly lamented shaking Marcy out of her memories.

Marcy stopped drumming, looking back at Sprig, "What's up?" Marcy fretted, eyes darting around the clearing for some source of danger.

"I'm fine..." Sprig promised, clearly still upset, "but you were finally happy again and then I had to go and remind you of something sad."

Marcy took a few moments to absorb the statement before smiling, standing up to go sit next to Sprig on the log by the fire. "Have you been worried about me?"

"Mmhmm," Sprig nodded, leaning against Marcy's side. "You've been so quiet since that night... I just wanted to keep your mind off things for a bit…"

"Is that why you've been so insistent on going on adventures this week?"

He nodded.

Marcy looked down fondly at the little frog before putting her arm around his shoulder and pulling him into a side hug, "Thanks Sprig, that factory was pretty awesome… minus that last part." Marcy was quiet for a few moments before admitting, " but… I'm probably going to be upset for a little while. I really miss Anne and Sasha.”

“Sasha?” Sprig said incredulously.

Marcy chuckled at Sprig’s expression, “I don’t regret stopping her, but I wish there had been another way… she was trying to protect me.” Marcy thought back to her first run in with Ram, holding her hand and asking her the important question. ‘Whose life do we value more?’

“Hm…” Sprig acknowledged reluctantly.

"I guess I haven't been the best party leader this last week, huh?" Marcy said with a sad smile.

Sprig launched himself into her side, wrapping his little froggy arms around her, "That's okay… you've been a great sister... thanks for protecting Hop Pop."

Marcy nodded, they held the hug for a little bit before Marcy pulled back taking a steadying breath, "still, I'm on an adventure through a magical world! I don't want to mope my way through it," she said, forcing herself to perk up, "did your fiddle make it onto the fwagon?"

"Sure did!" Sprig said, springing up from the log, "why?"

Marcy flipped her twin drumsticks around with a grin, "how'd you feel about a little jam session?"

It wasn't perfect. Marcy was using upturned pots and stumps in place of proper drums and it took a bit for the two of them to get on the same wavelength, but it was undeniably fun! Marcy always enjoyed playing the drums. Body and mind working together to maintain a rhythm just felt natural to her.

Polly came out to listen and rib them gently. When Hop Pop returned he quietly went about preparing dinner while listening to the two of them.

Marcy still had plenty of old memories that hurt to remember, but she could always make some new memories. Not to replace the old, but to add to them. Sweetening the mix to be just a little less bitter.

Marcy looked up at the ceiling from the little hammock of sheets she had made for herself in the back of the fwagon. They were still moving, after they finished dinner Hop Pop took up the reins again. They'd have to stay ahead of the people hunting for them if they wanted to stay safe. Marcy really should’ve been sleeping, she'd take over for Hop Pop in a few hours, but her head was a jumbled mess at the moment.

"Pst... hey," Sprig whispered into the rumbling quiet of the fwagon, "hey Marcy, are you up?"

Marcy shifted her weight over and pulled down the sheet a little bit to look over at Sprig who was curled up in the larger drawer bed next to a snoozing Polly. "What's up?"

"I was just thinking... and maybe this is a stupid idea but if you’re missing Anne..." Sprig hedged a little as the carriage hit a small bump in the road and jostled them slightly. "Maybe it'd help if you wrote her a letter?" he suggested.

"Just to get my thoughts out you mean?" Marcy guessed.

Sprig shrugged, "Sure, but also I saw you still had that improved golem potion you made to send letters back to the valley... couldn't you use that to send them letters?"

Marcy paused at the thought, giving it some genuine consideration. After a few moments Marcy shrugged, "I don't know... Anne left for a reason." A good reason. "I don't know if it'd be a good idea."

Sprig nodded in understanding, "Yeah, it was just an idea," he said before curling back into his little bed, "g’night..."

Marcy grinned appreciating the gesture, "Night Sprig..." she said before settling back down on her bed. She laced her fingers together over her chest as she tried to empty her mind, to little effect.

After some fitful sleep Hop Pop woke Marcy up for her turn to drive. Marcy found herself alone on the top of the cart, free to dwell in her thoughts. She tapped her thumbs against the reins anxiously before eventually tapping them in a one-two-one pattern.

A few relative moments later Ram's projection was standing patiently to one side of the fwagon’s roof. They followed Marcy’s projection as she paced back and forth from the driver's seat all the way back to the hatch in the back.

"Okay, so this is probably a bad idea, but if we workshop it- maybe it could be a kind of okay idea..."

Chapter 2: Prison Break

Chapter Text

Dear Anne,

I know this probably isn't really a welcome message. I just wanted to let you know that we're all alright for the moment. At least we haven't been caught by anyone yet.

I hope that wherever you are, you're safe too.

-Marcy

Marcy looked at the letter for the eighth time. She was laying on top of the fwagon as she held her journal above her, the last piece of beetle jerky held thoughtfully between her teeth. She felt like the letter was sweet and quick and to the point. She wanted to just send it off without thinking, but she couldn’t stop imagining Anne receiving it. Her face twisting in disdain as she read it.

She clutched the letter to her chest as she stared up through the canopy to the soft white clouds above, trying to ignore the conversation down below.

"-and then Marcy tackled the shrunk down heron by the neck!" Sprig said, reenacting the moment on one of his stuffed animals with gusto.

"No way! That's so hard core!" Polly said, before her voice became directed to the top of the fwagon. "Did that really happen?"

Marcy closed her eyes against the memories, taking a slow breath to keep her voice level. “Just about, yeah," she said, doing her best to keep it casual.

"... Maybe it's about time we get back to it," Hop Pop suggested.

"Oh, yeah! Hey Marcy, are you ready to try again?" Sprig called from their campsite.

Hop Pop’s intervention brought Marcy mixed relief. She was definitely glad to leave this topic behind, but she groaned internally at getting back to practice.

Marcy shut her journal before climbing down off of the fwagon, preparing to embarrass herself.

They had all stopped in a small clearing just off the main road. Well not the main road, they were several steps removed from the main road, but it was still a road, technically speaking. They'd managed to stay ahead of any of their pursuers, but now they were starting to run out of food. They had stopped for the past day, foraging for mushrooms, berries, and bugs.

Marcy had almost been eaten by a manticore and so Hop Pop and Sprig had decided that this was as good a time as any for Marcy to be let in on a little family tradition: the Plantar family hunting dance.

It had been fascinating to watch in person, the way it mesmerized and enraptured predators and prey alike into a dream like trance.

And Marcy. Just. Could not figure out how to get her body to cooperate in the slightest.

Marcy had always been a bit clumsy on her feet. She could dance when it was just... silly and unthinking, grooving to a song. Even that often came with risk if there was anything to trip over in the general area. Actual coordinated dancing, though, was just about impossible for the girl.

All of this failure would have been frustrating enough without the added pressure of this being an important Plantar family tradition.

A misplaced stomp of her foot got it stuck in a hidden rabbicoon burrow. Marcy wrenched her foot free and fell on her butt, letting out a groan of frustration. The tiny ring-tailed creature whose home she had just busted open came out and hissed before picking up one of its kits in its mouth and bounding off into the forest.

"Come on Marcy, you just have to feel the rhythm of nature. Become one with the shaking branch and-"

"But what does that mean?" Marcy snapped, and instantly regretted it when Sprig flinched. "... Sorry, Sprig just... tired and frustrated," she added quickly. She couldn’t stand to ruin this relationship too.

Hop Pop came over and put a hand on her back. "It's okay Marcy, it must be hard to manage what with your limbs being so much longer than us frogs," he said compassionately.

"Yeah!" Polly agreed, "if it makes you feel any better, I can't do the dance either!"

Marcy smiled down at the pollywog. "Polly, you don't have legs yet."

"Oh sure, rub it in!" Polly groused, but there was no actual anger behind it.

Marcy took a breath in and smiled, feeling some of the stress and pressure leave her.

Sprig's eyes flicked to Hop Pop before shaking his head. "Well, I believe in you Marcy! I bet you'll have the dance down like a real Plantar in no time!"

The encouragement felt like a rock in her stomach. Still, Marcy forced a smile, knowing Sprig hadn't meant any harm in it.

"Well, in any case," Hop Pop started, looking about, "this only came up cause you almost got eaten by that crazy monster you ran into." Marcy shivered, remembering the horrifying scorpion-tailed lion that had ambushed her. She'd only been saved by Sprig and Hop Pop performing the hunting dance and distracting the creature long enough for all of them to get out of there. "So until you have some way to defend yourself, we'll need to be careful. Things out here aren't as safe as they are in the valley."

Marcy nodded. She hadn't had much time to rebuild her stock of offensive alchemy since leaving the valley. Most of Maddie's grimoire was specialized to use the flora and fauna of the valley. For the moment her only means of defense was her taser, but that wasn't going to be strong enough for a monster. She had managed to make an improved ice potion with some of the ingredients out here, but that had been half blind luck.

"In any case, we still need to get some stuff to eat for the coming week, and we can't go stopping like this every other day. Sprig and I will range out a bit and see what we can hunt, you girls stick near the fwagon, but go ahead and check on those traps you set up."

"Woo hoo!" Polly hopped out of her bucket and into Marcy's arms. “Come on! I just know we caught something!"

Marcy chuckled and slipped the little pollywog into her hood, Polly's traditional seat when she was with Marcy. The little family split off into pairs.

Polly affected an overly casual voice. "Well... I mean you so rudely brought up my lack of legs earlier, and..."

Marcy rolled her eyes. “You want me to check -?"

"Yes please!" Polly interjected.

Marcy chuckled affectionately. One hand reached back to scoop up the little pollywog while her other hand reached for her shroom light in her bag. She held the pollywog aloft, stuck the light against her body and then turned it on. The light made Polly's body translucent enough to see all her developing body parts, including her legs. "Hmmm," Marcy hummed, popping her lips as she considered the state of the developing legs. "Looks to be about nine weeks from now, I think!" Marcy said, clicking the shroomlight off.

"Yes!" Polly said, excited as always to get her legs. "Uh... Marcy?" Polly spoke, sounding concerned, "do you remember us setting up a net trap?"

Marcy shook her head. "I don't think so, why?" Polly pointed downwards. Marcy looked below her and saw that she had wandered into the middle of a pretty poorly hidden net laid out on the forest floor beneath them. "Uh-"

"Now, Ted!" suddenly, if predictably, Marcy found herself being hoisted into the air by the net trap. Three amphibians casually emerged from the foliage around them.

The first was a yellow spotted frog with short slicked back hair, armed with a dueling sword and a smarmy grin. "Alright, perfect! Double D, how much is this creature worth?"

Second was a red toad who wore anxiety like an old scarf and whose fingers tapped nervously over a clip board they had clutched in their hand. "I... I'm not sure, I haven't seen anything like it in my books."

Last was a burly green newt who was grasping the rope the net was suspended on with almost no effort whatsoever. He had a giant barbarian's ax on his back and a look that said he hadn't had a coherent thought about anything in years.

Despite their distinctly different attitudes, species, and equipment, they did all have one thing in common with each other: They all wore the uniform of the Newtopian Military in various states of modification.

Which meant that this could be very bad.

Sprig and Hop Pop were having... difficulties hunting together. Sprig wasn't talking with his grandfather and they were constantly getting in each other's way.

It wasn't the first time that Hop Pop had been in a fight with his grandson, but those had all been childish affairs. Frustration over not being trusted with some task or responsibility. Annoyance at Hop Pop's old fashioned way of doing things. Not agreeing with a rule Hop Pop had instituted. They were things that, at the end of the day, they could usually move past. Talk things through. This time though, Sprig's motivations were born out of a good place, which made him as stubborn as a snail in winter.

Hop Pop understood where he was coming from. The night he had tried to steal the music box hadn't been one of his finer moments, but he felt like they could move past it if he could just explain himself. The trouble was whenever Hop Pop got Sprig alone, he refused to talk to or listen to Hop Pop.

Which was how, for the third time today, they ended up jumping into each other instead of capturing a sitting duck of a rhino beetle.

As they both watched the beetle take flight and soar away, Hop Pop rubbed at his eyes. "Let's go see if the girls had any better luck."

"I'll hunt on my own for a bit," Sprig said, reaching down to taste the dirt before Hop Pop laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Sprig, I was serious about us sticking in pairs. That monster from before could have followed us," Hop Pop lectured. Sprig grumbled, but didn't argue. At least he wasn't spiteful to the point of endangering himself.

They returned to their little campsite and Hop Pop was relieved to see the two fish in a bucket and a small sack full of squirming bugs. "Well, that is a welcome sight, but where are the girls?"

In response, they both heard Marcy's voice bellow out from nearby. "Oh No! It's Too Bad We Were Out Here All Alone!"

"Yeah! No Family Or Friends Who Could Help Us Escape!" Polly's voice added.

Sprig and Hop Pop looked at each other, alarmed, and then started to stalk through the underbrush towards the voices. They slipped almost noiselessly into a bush and peered out at an old dirt path. Three amphibians wearing army uniforms were walking along the trail, a frog in the lead followed by a toad and newt. The newt carried a net over his shoulder with Marcy and Polly trapped inside.

"If Only We Had Any Allies Who Might Hear Our Plight. But Sadly We Do Not!" Marcy added again.

The frog in the lead glanced over his shoulders, annoyed. "Hey! Quiet back there!" The frog was holding a clipboard and flipping through the pages with abandon. "How can this creature not have a bounty attached to it? It's hideous!" The frog complained. Reaching the end of the clipboard, he tossed it over his shoulder. Ahead of him was an errant branch blocking the path. Rather than step around it, he simply pushed it till it bent.

The toad danced to the side to catch the clipboard, smoothing out the pages with care. “Perhaps it wandered over here from a distant region?" As the branch snapped back the toad caught it just in time, shaking out their stinging hand before also pushing it forward. "But if this is a never before seen creature, then that will be worth quite a few coppers. I know Newtopia University has a standing offer of one hundred copper for any never-before-seen specimens."

"A hundred copper!" The frog grinned, rubbing his hands together. "Ted, you better keep a tight hold on that thing!"

"You got it, Teddy!" The Newt at the back agreed good naturedly. The tree branch that had stopped the other two thwacked back into the newt. "Ow!" The newt scratched at his stomach before glowering up at the tree. Hop Pop barely made out the mumble of, "mean tree" before the newt reached back, retrieved his massive ax, and in one mighty swing nearly managed to fell the tree.

"Ted!" The toad called out, "we are..." they flipped through the pages on their clipboard, "all good on firewood."

"Just come on, you big lug." Teddy insisted from the front.

Ted glowered up at the tree one last time before walking forward to catch up with the others. The trio was heading towards a small nearby town, from what Hop Pop remembered from the map.

"Come on," Sprig said, starting to get up from their hiding spot to pursue.

"Wait," Hop Pop said in a low voice, "I think a town is out that way, let’s follow in the fwagon. We’ll need a quick getaway once we rescue them."

The two of them retreated towards the fwagon.

Following the army guards, a creature came lurking out of the shadows, sniffing at the ground. Black fur covered its body with matching black carapace covering its spine. It stalked down the path after the scent of the three guards.

As it caught sight of its prey it stopped, crouching low in preparation to start its final charge towards them. Tragically, in a stroke of unimaginable pure chance, the tree that the newt had chopped into earlier chose that moment to give way, splintering noisily as it fell on the back of the creature, pinning it to the ground.

It snarled impotently as it struggled against this new weight on its back.

Marcy bounced in the back of the net, rough rope digging into her legs. Marcy kept Polly close to her chest so that at least she didn't feel the same discomfort. After about twenty minutes or so of walking, they arrived at a small settlement. There was an ancient looking stone wall, but it had seen better days. It was almost entirely overgrown, with wide breaches in the fortification that most creatures could just walk through. There were some wooden stakes to dissuade wildlife, but they wouldn't stop any intelligent intruders.

Inside was a small town, smaller even than Wartwood. It was laid out like a horseshoe, situated around a running fountain in the center. Most of the buildings appeared to be residential and were built with local materials, including stones likely scavenged from the defunct walls. The few citizens that Marcy could see all had little carts and stalls in front of their homes. One building, however, looked distinctly out of place. It was made of almost solid stone, and looked much more militant in nature. Beyond these neat buildings, others sat in utter collapse and disrepair, long enough for the wood to be more rot than not.

All together it reminded Marcy of the old Roman castra, where a town was built to serve a military garrison rather than the other way around. However, it looked, if not abandoned, then certainly underpopulated.

The frog, Teddy, jumped upon the old cracked fountain that seemed to serve as the main water source for the town, and started bellowing. "Attention, citizens of Westmarch! We have captured a dangerous monster from the forest! You can all rest easier now.” The few people in the markets came to gather around, clearly bored enough to come see whatever might liven up their day. Marcy felt discomfort as she was swung from the back of the burly Ted to be shown off to the crowd. "Please, please, don't congratulate us all at once."

An elderly looking toad came up to the net to get a better look at Marcy. "...Kind of looks like the Unconquered Sun, doesn't it?" he said, looking around to the other people in town. Many responded with murmurs of agreement.

"Looks like one of the other creatures she was looking for, actually!" said a fruit vendor, chomping down on their own apple. Again a murmur of agreement.

"What, no it doesn't, it's hideous!" Teddy said, gesturing up to the net.

"Sure it's hideous, so was the Unconquered Sun," said a frog in a butcher's apron. Marcy frowned; she was used to the comment at this point, but it still felt rude.

"Weren't you three off on patrol when she swept through?”

“How would you know what she looked like?"

"I'd let that one go if I was you three."

Teddy frowned, clearly expecting a better response. "We'll let the Warden decide that, I think. As a squad leader, I'm the highest ranked soldier here until the rest of the garrison returns!" Teddy said defiantly. "Come on, you guys..." the little frog grumbled about how ungrateful the townsfolk were. The townsfolk shrugged and went back to their business.

The toad was bringing up the rear of the pack now, looking over their notes nervously.

Marcy thought back on her time in toad tower and figured a different approach was perhaps in order, "So… My name is Marcy. Can I ask what's happening?"

"Oh..." the toad, 'Double D', looked up, surprised by the question. "Well, uh, creature, you have been captured and the plan is to turn you in for a decent sum of coppers, on account of you being a... well, a monster," they explained awkwardly. "Sorry about that. I'm Tedd, by the way."

"I thought he was Ted?" Polly asked, pointing to the big burly Newt. "Cool ax, by the way."

"Thanks! It's my favorite one, so I polish it every day." Ted said from over his shoulder.

Tedd nodded at Polly's comment, "He is Ted, my name is also Tedd, but with two d's, hence my nickname, Double D."

"So, you all have the same name?" Marcy said with a raised brow.

Double D nodded. “Somehow. It wasn’t planned, even though our parents all lived so close together-"

"Stop talking to the monster!" Teddy said from the front as he banged open the door to the military building, which echoed out through the halls. There was a comforting lack of any other army personnel inside as they immediately went down a side hall towards some kind of office.

"So, who's this Unconquered Sun everyone was talking about?" Marcy asked neutrally.

Despite his call for silence earlier, Teddy clearly had an opinion on this topic. "Some new Newtopian hotshot," he said dismissively. "Never lost a fight, trusted subordinate to General Yunan, yadda, yadda."

Marcy huffed a small breath through her nose as she felt a surge of jealousy. Of course Sasha had gotten such a cool moniker.

Teddy kicked open the door to the office, where there were a number of desks. One of them was clean and pristine, without a speck of dust. Another was covered in what appeared to be a small hoard of dirty dishes. The last was covered in loose notes and a small stack of sealed scrolls - messages, Marcy guessed. If those were from the soldiers in the valley, it might be why no one had recognized Marcy or Polly as traitors yet.

"She and the general swung by a couple of weeks ago and took most of the garrison with them for some mission out in Frog Valley." There was a sturdy wooden door that had a small window built into it with thick iron bars over it. Teddy took out a ring of keys, paused, and then turned to point an accusatory finger at Marcy. "And you! Stop talking to us!" he ordered before opening the door.

"Right, about that, doesn't me speaking coherently kind of prove I'm not a monster?" Marcy argued as they entered into a gray stripped down corridor full of jail cells.

"Pah, mimic birds can talk, cannibals can talk, just cause you can talk doesn't mean squat." Teddy dismissed as he opened a cell with the ring of keys. "Ted, toss it in."

Ted grabbed the net with both hands, and for a terrifying moment seemed to intend to hurl the net, Marcy, and Polly into the cell at high speed.

"Wait, not with the pollywog inside!" Double D added desperately.

Ted paused, before opening the net, pulling Marcy out by the scruff of her jacket and dropping her inside while Teddy went and fished out Polly.

"There you are, little one," Teddy said in a bragging voice. "You're finally safe."

"Oh please, Marcy'd never harm me." Polly said without a hint of hesitation, which made Marcy smile. "I'm more worried about y’all considering what happened last time she was locked up."

"Ha! Locked up before, huh? Sounds bounty-worthy to me!" Teddy said with a grin. "Those honey-sucks are all ours."

"Whoops..." Polly winced, regretting her words.

"Thanks, little cutie pie," Teddy patronized. He pinched at Polly's cheek. “Just an adorable little pollywog who couldn't hurt a-" the frog's eyes went wide as Polly bit down on his wrist. "Yeaaaow!" he shook his hand back and forth until he finally managed to throw Polly in the direction of the cell. Marcy jumped up to catch the pollywog as Ted slammed the door shut. "Little brat bit me!" He gripped at his wrist and scowled at Polly, pulling out his keyring and locking the cell. “Fine, you trust that monster so much? You can sleep here tonight."

Ted gave a wave to the two of them before following the frog. "Have a good night! Warden comes in the morning!"

Double D was the last one remaining, laughing a little nervously while trying to avoid eye contact. "I'll just. Right." They picked up Marcy's dropped bag and retreated after the others.

"Hey, wait a second. What are honey-sucks?" Marcy asked, curious.

"Oh uh," Double D looked a little embarrassed, "they're a special candy made by Barry the Candyman, he comes by once a year after the pass to Frog Valley opens up."

"Oh yeah, we know Barry!" Polly said excitedly. “He lives in our hometown."

Teddy stuck his head in. "You two are from frog valley? What town?"

"Wartwood," Marcy and Polly responded together.

"Ha! Nice try, but who names a town 'Wart-Wood'?" he said the name mockingly. "Trees don't get warts idiot, come on Double D, let's go!" The frog grabbed the toad by the collar and dragged them through the doorway before slamming the door shut and locking it behind them.

After a few moments Polly whispered, "I don't think they know who you are."

"Nope," Marcy agreed.

"That Warden guy probably will, though."

"Yeah..." Marcy had read about the Wardens. They wandered the periphery territories paying out and hunting down bounties for the crown. Marcy thought that seemed like a strong conflict of interest.

"So, are you going to wreck this place, too?" Polly looked up at Marcy curiously with just a hint of excitement.

Marcy flinched a bit at the insinuation, but quickly suppressed it. "I think we can find a less drastic solution." Marcy set Polly aside and then pulled her sweatshirt open.

Polly's eyes widened and sparkled in excitement. "Yesss..."

Hop Pop had parked the fwagon next to one of the many breaches in the fortifications. The light of day was starting to fade, and people were starting to head home. The only people left in the modest town square were a bug vendor and his last customer of the day, chatting amicably with each other.

Marcy and Polly were probably being held in the cell on the first floor of the garrison on the east side. That's where members of his traveling troupe - or on occasion, he himself - needed to be retrieved from when they ended up going overboard in one of these towns. Hop Pop knew they would need to play this smart; the best chance to get the girls out quietly would be to sneak in after dark. It had been difficult to convince Sprig to hold up, but he had eventually relented, going down into the fwagon to sulk while Hop Pop kept watch.

As the vendor bid his last customer a good night and started to fold up his stall, Hop Pop steeled himself and retreated back to the hatch at the back of the fwagon. "Alright Sprig, it's just about time, are you all ready?" He waited for an answer, but when he didn't get one he poked his head down and looked about. He felt worry mixed with annoyance as he realized what must have happened. "Ugh. Sprig!”

Sprig slowly made his way up the side of the strange block shaped building, finally reaching the third floor.

He wasn't going to just sit around for a couple of hours, what if something happened to Marcy and Polly in the meantime!? He snuck up to one of the windows and peered inside. It was a very narrow bedroom, with just enough space for a bed and desk. Sprig pushed open the window and slipped inside.

Alright, perfect, now all he had to do was find Marcy and Polly and bust them out. He crept over to the door and opened it. As he looked down the hall, he saw dozens upon dozens of similar looking doors.

This... might take a while.

With her preparations complete, Marcy sat back in the cell to wait. "Alright... we'll wait until tonight before making a break for it." Marcy whispered to Polly. They'd been over the plan and had worked out their best chance at making it work.

Polly nodded in agreement. "Sounds perfect, that should be just enough time to make a shiv!” She looked around them and patted down her bow in disappointment. “Hm… do you have anything to make a shiv with?"

"No." Thankfully .

"Darn... well, guess I'll nap for a little bit then." The little pollywog jumped into the straw bed and pulled together a little nest to snuggle into.

Marcy glanced up through the window high above them in the cell. The orange light of sunset was filtering in and Marcy sighed. “Well, as long as I have time." She reluctantly stood up and took on the pose of the Plantar hunting dance and once again tried to practice. Her first attempt went about as well as all the others, stumbling forward into the bars of the cage. Her second attempt ended when trying to jump forward and back, and she barely avoided braining herself against the stone wall. The third time ended with her trying to hop from foot to foot, only for her foot to slip on some loose straw,resulting in her dropping painfully into an accidental rendition of the splits. "Owwww," Marcy wheezed out as she tilted on her side in pain.

Polly, who had been watching the display with increasing pity, decided to speak up. “You know, you don't need to do the hunting dance if it's too hard," Polly offered.

"But it's an important family tradition..." Marcy protested, still lying on her side.

"So's being a farmer, and I don't think that's in the cards for me, you, or Sprig," Polly argued.

That was true. Marcy enjoyed working on the farm, but she had bigger plans for her career in the future. "But this has been passed down the family line for generations. Shouldn’t I do my best to learn it?"

"Sure, if you want to learn it," Polly said critically. She stared at Marcy for a long moment. "Is this about what Sprig said about being a ‘real Plantar’?"

Marcy didn’t say anything at first, but mumbled, “We’re only out here cause of me.”

"Marcy, we're all here cause we want to be," Polly stated flatly. Marcy opened her mouth to argue but Polly bowled onward. "Hop Pop's here cause he wanted to protect you from Yunan. He had to protect you cause you protected Sprig at the Tower. You had to protect Sprig because he tried to rescue you from there. And Sprig could only rescue you cause I distracted Hop Pop long enough for him to sneak away." Polly laid out the argument aggressively. Gesturing at each point as if it was physically in front of them. "We all got each other in this mess, cause we're family. You don't get to claim sole credit here," Polly said, actually starting to sound angry. "Frankly, at this point you're a Plantar whether you like it or not." Polly said with finality before pouting and looking away. “...So stop walking on eggshells around us. We’re not going anywhere…”

Marcy was stunned by the words. She wasn’t sure she agreed with Polly’s conclusion that they all had an equal part in this, but she wasn’t about to anger the pollywog by arguing. Instead she finally sat up and smiled down at her sister, reaching out and straightening her bow, which had been knocked askew during their capture. “Thanks Polly…”

“For what?” Polly deflected. Marcy smiled gratefully at her little sister.

As night finally arrived, Hop Pop stalked towards the corner of the building he was pretty confident held the cellblock. He saw a row of windows, and crept up to one that was open. As he stretched to look inside, he saw the frog guard, Teddy, leaning back in an old wooden chair. He was sifting through Marcy's bag.

"What is all this junk?!" he complained.

“I would be careful, who knows what that creature could have stored in there." Double D warned seriously. Teddy did not listen and continued to sift through its contents. Double D sighed, looking down at their prim and proper papers again. “This recklessness is exactly why we are so desperate for coppers."

"What do you mean by that?" Teddy said in challenge, pausing his search for the moment.

"If we had thought through that little scheme a little more, then maybe we wouldn't need to be traipsing through the dirt and mud trying to get bounties each day."

"Hey, the catapult delivery service was the perfect business idea. It was the fastest delivery system on the continent."

"It delivered most things in pieces," Double D criticized.

"We never said it'd get there undamaged, we just promised it would be fast! And we'd be swimming in coppers if someone didn't overwind the catapult and break the arm." Teddy eyed their tall newt friend in annoyance.

Ted caught the tone but didn't pick up the meaning. He put on a matching frown to Teddy's and stared at the toad. “Yeah, Double D!"

Double D sighed, rolling their eyes. “He was referring to you, Ted."

"Oh..." Ted said with a frown.

"Anyways, it's in the past," Teddy said with a shrug. “We got some weird creature we can turn in for coppers and we'll be drowning in sweets after Barry passes through." Teddy pulled out a neon blue potion and looked at it skeptically.

Hop Pop frowned at the invasion of privacy, but refocused on scanning the room, trying to get the lay of the land. Putting together which things were important but not figuring out how exactly he could get the girls out safely.

Meanwhile, Teddy had uncorked the blue potion and taken a small swig of the liquid inside. “Hm, doesn't taste-" then the instant ice potion froze the inside of his mouth. "Ah! Wha tha-!!!" He hurled the potion behind him, through the open window. Hop Pop ducked beneath the sill, allowing the potion to fly over his head.

While the orange frog stared into the building, the manticore approached from behind. A stealth predator, even the hitch in its gait did not stop it from sneaking up on the old frog. Closer... and closer...

Then the creature was hit directly in the face by the bright blue potion.

The flask broke against the manticore’s head, and as it growled out in anger, suddenly its face, shoulders, and forelegs were encased in ice. It seemed incapable of movement, except for its eyes, which darted around in frustration.

Its prey continued to stare into the window, utterly unaware of how close they had come to being dinner.

The manticore, unable to move the front half of its body, started to chip away at its ice prison with its tail.

Sprig finally made his way to the bottom floor, after checking empty room after empty room on the upper two floors. It had been exhausting and he almost burst into the corner office out of simple frustration when he heard the sound of voices on the other end. He quickly readopted his stealthy approach and climbed onto the ceiling as he approached. When Sprig popped his head in he saw a strange sight. Inside, the three soldiers Sprig had seen carrying his sisters away were gathered around one desk. The newt was prying open the frog's mouth, the toad had a hammer and chisel, and the frog had a mouth filled with crystalline ice.

Looked like someone had tried one of Marcy's potions without asking about it. Sprig huffed out a breath of sympathy; he'd been there.

Eventually the chunk of ice in Teddy's mouth was broken apart and he was able to spit out pieces of it with a groan.

"Alright. Well, I think we're done for today!" Teddy said, rubbing at his jaw. "Let's go hit the hay."

"Oh, uh, Teddy?" the toad objected. "Someone needs to stay here and stand guard..."

"What? We haven't had to do that before!" Teddy objected.

"We didn't have any prisoners before," Double D explained gently.

"Ugh. Fine." He took the keyring from his belt and handed it to the big newt. "Ted, you take the first watch." He pointed to the toad, "Double D, you take the second," back to the newt "and then Ted, you take the third watch." Teddy delegated without a hint of remorse. He turned back and strolled towards the door. “Good night!" he called back with a wave of his hand. Sprig flattened himself against the ceiling as the frog passed underneath him.

Sprig heard a long, beleaguered sigh come from within the room as the toad started to follow. "Come wake me in a couple hours, Ted."

The simple newt saluted his friend's departure without complaint. “You two can count on me! I'll be the best guard you could ever want." He lumbered over to the stool next to the closed off room that Sprig knew Polly and Marcy had to be in, and sat down. He looked awake and alert for all of five seconds before instantly dozing off, keyring left loose in his lap.

Sprig grinned at his good luck and snuck in along the ceiling towards the sleeping newt. He tensed his tongue muscles. The plan was to snap it to the keyring and then back to him in one fluid movement. He took a breath and then launched his tongue down at the key ring. At the same time a green tongue made contact with the keys as well. Both tongues stuck to it and as they tried to pull it back, Sprig was pulled from the ceiling, and landed on the floor with a thud. Hop Pop was pulled from his hiding spot behind the desk, kicking over a chair and causing a similar racket.

Sprig rubbed his head as he scowled over at Hop Pop before a shadow loomed over him and he looked up to see Ted looking down at them, unamused.

Just as Marcy was getting ready to put her plan into action, there was a loud ruckus in the next room over.

"Hey! Let me go!"

"Please, this is all a misunderstanding!"

Marcy grimaced at the sound of Hop Pop and Sprig on the other side of the door.

A few moments later the door was kicked open, the lock bending and then splintering off the door with tremendous force. Ted the newt came marching in with a frog under each arm and a keyring gripped in his teeth. He walked over to the cell opposite of Polly and Marcy's and pulled it open, then dropped the two new prisoners inside and closed it again. "Double D will talk with you during his shift. Pretty sure you broke some laws..." Ted said, flipping through keys and trying several before getting the right one to lock the cell. At the doorway he waved to them all. "Sleep tight everyone," he spoke without malice or sarcasm as he closed the door ever so gently, like a parent leaving a child to get some sleep.

Once the snoring resumed Marcy looked back over to her brother and grandfather. Sprig was sitting with his back to Hop Pop, arms crossed and looking ready to pick a fight at the slightest provocation. Hop Pop looked resigned, shaking his head in distress. Marcy sensed a tension between the two. It wasn't rare for the two of them to butt heads, though Marcy was curious about what the source of it was this time. Maybe something happened when they went hunting?

"I'm sorry girls, we really should have had our acts together," Hop Pop apologized, rubbing at the space between his eyes.

Sprig turned at the words, some of his anger fading, "We really screwed up..." he admitted, his scowl softening into worry. "I should have just worked together with Hop Pop..."

"True..." Hop Pop said but sighed, "but I didn't help anything by trying to force my way of doing things on you without a proper explanation..." he met Sprig's eyes, "if you just let me explain, I think you'd understand."

Marcy saw the way Sprig's brow furrowed at the words and sensed that things were about to get off track again. "Well, thank you both for the attempt in any case." Marcy said, bringing their attention back to her.

"Attempt being the key word." Polly chastised bluntly.

"What do we do now?" Sprig asked, looking worried as the reality of their situation started to sink in.

It must have seemed pretty hopeless from his perspective, Marcy had to admit. The four of them were stuck in jail cells. Bounty collectors coming the next day. Marcy away from her bag of tricks for any magical solution. There was one key detail that Sprig didn't know however: that Marcy had planned for this possibility.

"Well, personally I think we should get out of here." Marcy lifted Polly to the hood of her sweatshirt. Marcy stood up from the ground, dusting herself off in the process.

"How do you plan to do that?" Hop Pop asked with a raised brow. Marcy reached out, took hold of the door of her cell and gingerly slid it open. "Hwhat the?!"

Marcy grinned mischievously as she took a few steps forward and revealed the inside of her sweatshirt. Inside were a half dozen narrow pockets sewn into the material; each one housed a little lockpicking tool. She picked out a pair of them and started to work on the boys’ cell. “After Toad Tower, I figured it would be smart to keep these on hand," Marcy explained. "I unlocked ours while waiting for those three to go to sleep."

Hop Pop looked a mixture of relieved and troubled at the reveal of this new skillset.

Sprig, on the other hand, was just excited. "Nice, Marcy!"

As Marcy worked the tumblers, an unnerving scream sounded from somewhere outside. "That's uh... probably not good," she reasoned. She heard the newt outside in the office seem to startle awake. Judging by the sound of grinding metal on wood, he ran off to investigate the scream, dragging his ax behind him.

Marcy focused, and with a pop and a click unlocked the jail cell for Sprig and Hop Pop.

The four of them approached the now broken door separating the cellblock from the office and looked out. Seeing the office was empty, they all flowed out into the room. Sure enough, there was a scar on the floor from Ted dragging the ax behind him.

Marcy quickly located her bag while Sprig and Hop Pop both moved towards the window. Marcy slung her bag over her shoulder, checking its contents. She still had almost everything in here, including what remained of her mind control powder, but her ice potion was missing.

Marcy almost went to follow but paused at the pile of unopened scrolls on the desk. Curious, she started opening a few and scanning their contents. The first couple had been pretty mundane reports without anything interesting. The third was the bounty she had expected, but there was a surprise - it was for Hop Pop exclusively. There was a description of Marcy, Sprig, and Polly, but only as likely travel companions. Marcy checked the date, and it was from a few days after her confrontation with Sasha.

Was Sasha still trying to shield her from all this?

"Uh oh..." Sprig said from the window. Marcy had to squint to really get an idea of what was going on outside, but she quickly figured out what had raised the alarm. At the doors of one of the residential houses, the manticore that had nearly eaten Marcy just a few days ago was chasing a family through the shattered doorway of their home. She saw the three Teds approaching the creature from all sides. They looked nervous, but they weren’t about to let the creature run amok.

"Okay... this might be our best chance to slip away," Hop Pop said in a worried hum. He turned away, intending to lead his family through the halls to another exit they might use. Marcy hesitated at the window sill. "Marcy, come on," he insisted.

Through the window she saw as the fight between the guardsman and the monster started. Double D, armed with a crossbow, fired at the creature, but the bolt deflected off the hardened carapace of the monster. Ted moved forward with a great ax, but his swings were slow and deliberate and easily avoided by the manticore. Teddy tried to use his friends' attacks to get the drop on the creature, using his frog legs to try and jump up and then dive down, stabbing at the monster with his dueling sword. The apex predator was not distracted though, and used its scorpion tail to grab the frog midair and hurl him at his newt companion. Before the beast had the chance to capitalize on the attack, Double D managed to fire off another bolt to keep it at bay and let their friends recover.

They weren't backing down, but it was clear the three were not equipped to deal with the monster on their own.

Marcy knew Hop Pop was right. This was the perfect distraction. No one would be looking for them while this thing was on the loose. It wasn't like the three soldiers had been kind to her either. Still.

"I... I want to help." She didn't need to use Ram to think of a plan. It was pretty straight forward for this one. "If it can be distracted for just a little while with the hunting dance..." Marcy pulled out what remained of her mind control powder, "I can get close enough to use this to get it under control..." she explained a little nervously. "Would you guys be willing to help?"

Sprig looked at the powder and understood the plan quickly, and gave a salute.

Hop Pop looked proud, if a little concerned. "Alright, I think we can handle that."

"Awesome! Okay, so remember Marcy, you gotta be one with the wind! Flow with-"

Marcy crouched down and put two hands on her brother's shoulders. "Sprig. I appreciate the encouragement, but I am garbage at this dance, most dancing really. I tried, I really did, but I just have no sense for it..." she explained, taking in a slow breath and exhaling, "I know a real Plantar should be able to, but-"

Sprig looked confused, but ready to once again insist Marcy could learn. On her back, Marcy could feel Polly shift around to look over her shoulder. While Marcy couldn't see it, she assumed Polly gave Sprig some kind of death glare based on the change in Sprig's demeanor. Sprig looked back at Hop Pop for a moment before looking at Marcy again. "...It's just a dance," Sprig said with a shrug, "I didn't mean to make you feel bad about not being able to do it."

"Thanks, Sprig," Marcy said, relieved. Polly was right; it was better to be straightforward with people.

"Oh god! It's gonna kill us all!" came a panicked cry from outside.

Marcy looked back towards the window sheepishly. "Oh, right. The manticore…"

Teddy shook a bit, feeling black and blue all over his body. His luck had turned some fatal strikes into glancing blows, but he couldn't keep this up forever. This had almost been a peaceful, and better yet, profitable, day. Now he was going to die fighting some horrible monster. Ted was pretty much on his last legs, with big claw marks having torn through his armor. Double D's crossbow was in pieces.

Even if he ran, his friends were in no condition to do that. It certainly felt hopeless. Which is why he couldn't quite believe his eyes when he saw the beast who had been stalking towards him suddenly seemed to get distracted, looking away from its almost helpless prey.

Teddy looked in the same direction it was and saw a truly bizarre sight. A pair of frogs that Teddy had never seen before were... dancing? One was an elderly balding orange frog while the other was a pink child. Their movements were fluid and seemed to groove with music that only they could hear. Then they both started slamming their faces into the pavement.

Teddy stood mesmerized by the bizarre display as his eyes fell upon another odd sight. The creature that he and his friends had locked up together was tip-toeing just outside of the scorpileo's line of sight, a vial in hand. The monster kept watching the pair of frogs as the gangly creature came closer and closer. Her fist was raised up, gripping something. At the 5 yard line she ended up tripping over a raised cobblestone, falling on her stomach with a cough of pain. The creature looked over to her, noticing her for the first time and growled viciously.

Teddy, with absolutely no better plan in mind threw his sword at the scorpileo. The sword bounced off the creature ineffectually but gave the girl enough time to scramble forward and toss a sparkly purple powder into its face.

The creature coughed and sputtered and its tail lashed out to lance the girl in the stomach but its aim suddenly faltered at the last second, stabbing into the cobblestone just a few inches away from her. Then the scorpileo seemed to become almost... docile.

The girl, taking in a slow breath, looked over to Teddy. "Hey, do you want this thing captured alive?"

By the next morning the strange family was just about ready to depart from the little fort town of Westmarch. Teddy still wasn't totally sure what to make of them. The tall creature managed to corral the scorpileo into one of the cages. Teddy had been worried they'd want some part of the bounty but claimed they were in a hurry and couldn't stick around for the bounty officer to come along, which suited Teddy juuuust fine. All the creature wanted for their help was a book on local botany and to take some of the venom from the scorpileo.

Additionally, the townsfolk, who were quite happy with the family's heroics, asked if there was any way they could help. Which led to their wagon being laden with food and supplies for the roads ahead of them, more than they’d likely be able to eat.

"Well, thank you all for your... mostly warm welcome, and certainly for all this food," Hop Pop said from atop the wagon.

A tittering of 'goodbyes' and 'thank yous' ran through the crowd in farewell.

"We are terribly sorry about the whole... imprisoning thing, you did seem quite strange when you were just wandering around the forest like you were," Double D apologized, their uniform once again freshly pressed and cleaned despite the fight just last night.

"Thanks for helping us," said Ted, who was wearing more bandages than actual clothes at this point.

"Well... just wanted to do good where we can, you know?" Marcy said with a smile that had way more baggage than Teddy had any intention of understanding.

"Yeah, well..." He heard the far off gallop of some kind of creature approaching and searched down the road. In the distance he could see a cloud of dust being kicked up. That was almost certainly the warden. If they got here it would probably mean splitting the bounty with the family. “Guess it's time for you to go, isn't it?"

Marcy glanced back where Teddy had looked and nodded. “Uh, yep! Best get moving, we're really running late at this point." She gestured to the old frog who had been feeding the snail and he quickly got up into the driver's seat next to Marcy.

Double D also noticed the approaching bounty clerk and spoke up. "Oh, are you sure? I think-"

Teddy slammed a hand over the toad's mouth. "You better skedaddle as soon as you can!"

"So long, everyone!" The smallest frog agreed with a big wave to the crowd as the wagon started to pick up speed.

Teddy kept waving until they disappeared around a bend in the road and snickered to himself. “Suckers.” As the townsfolk dispersed, Teddy turned his attention to greeting the warden.

He was a toad with a raking claw scar across his face and the symbol of the kingdom as a badge holding up his cloak. He had a stern look in his eye as he pulled up, flanked by half a dozen rapid rhino beetles. He was followed by two other army soldiers, a nervous looking newt and an axlottle. The bounty clerk rode up to Teddy and his friends with a stern eye, "Hello. Have you seen sign of-"

"A live scorpileo?" Teddy finished with a co*cky grin, "sure have! We have one locked up in our jail!"

"No. We're on the search for-" Teddy's words finally sunk in for the clerk and his eyes widened. “You caught a live scorpo-leo?" he said, a little incredulously.

Before long, Teddy was showing the experienced bounty hunter to the cell where the beast was contained.

The hunter expertly dodged this way and that as he examined the scorpileo. The monster, having returned to being feral hours ago, was trying in vain to stab the warden with its tail. "Well, I have to say, I'm impressed. Live capture is so rare, especially with a creature in this good of a condition." The warden casually walked away from the cage, stopping or dodging back once or twice to avoid the last futile strikes from the creature.

"Yeah, yeah, so what kind of coppers are we looking at?" Teddy asked, rubbing his fingers together.

The warden rolled his eyes, but took the question seriously. "Well I'd estimate about a hundred and fifty copper. Fifty for each of you."

Teddy grinned madly, they were going to be swimming in candy when Barry rolled around.

"Well that was delightful, but I did come here for a reason," the warden seemed to remember himself and started to dig into his bag, "a message should have been sent ahead of us, but we're actually hunting down traitors who escaped the net back in Frog Valley?" The man unrolled a scroll with a picture of a very familiar face. "Traitors to the kingdom. An official bounty hasn't been decided yet, but considering their actions, it could be worth well over a thousand coppers."

"That looks like our new friend!" Ted offered helpfully.

Double D spoke gently, "Now Teddy, let's take some deep breaths..."

Oh, Teddy took a deep breath alright, right before letting out a blood curdling scream of anguish over the fortune he had let slip through his fingers.

Marcy bid Hop Pop good night as they made the switch for who was driving.

She grabbed an apple from one of the nets full of food the townsfolk had gifted the family on their departure from the town of Westmarch. She bit into what was now a midnight snack as she clambered up into the fwagon.

She first went over to Petey who was sitting on his shelf waiting for Marcy. Marcy gathered a handful of centipede legs and fed her little piranha plant like a goldfish. Marcy was about to turn back when she felt Petey reach up and coil a vine around her wrist. Marcy smiled and pet the tomato plant affectionately. Eventually the tomato plant let her go, coiling up around itself to sleep for the night.

As Marcy moved to her hammock she spotted her siblings sleeping soundly, both quick to adapt to the new sleeping arrangement. Marcy wandered over to her hammock but caught sight of her journal, left open to her letter to Anne.

She spotted some aberrant markings on it and wandered over to take a closer look.

Scrawled on the letter were a pair of additional messages, scrawled by less practiced hands.

Dear Anne,

I know this probably isn't really a welcome message. I just wanted to let you know that we're all alright for the moment. At least we haven't been caught by anyone yet.

I hope that wherever you are, you're safe too.

-Marcy

updATe: we were Tossed in jAil TodAy! Not ThAT you cAre buT we goT ouT.

- Polly ⧗(>:P);

hey anne! you're missing some cool adventures too! we found a really cool robot factory a few days ago. we almost exploded! - sprig

Marcy chuckled at the additions. She took the journal up and moved to the little booth by the window. She took a moment to consider starting fresh but decided against it, instead adding to the bottom.

P.S. Hey so the first message was the important one, but since I have this whole back of the paper I guess I can catch you up on some stuff? Probably should avoid location names in case this gets intercepted... and don't feel obliged to read this if you don't want to, I kind of just want to get my own thoughts out.

A few days after we separated we came across these ancient ruins where we found this factory with an ancient computer and robots! Apparently it's all totally lost technology. I was even able to get an old game to work on the computer. Polly also made a robot friend, though unfortunately he got pretty badly damaged in the aforementioned explosion. We're gon na try to rebuild him.

Yesterday there was a manticore that almost ate me. Luckily the Plantars were able to save me from that one. Then I was captured by the army, though not for the reason you'd think. They thought I was some monster to capture! Luckily, we were able to get away like Polly said.

Marcy thought if there was anything she should add when she heard a small chirp come from above her. Peering over one of the cross beams that supported the roof of the Fwagon, one of the baby rabbicoons peered down at Marcy.

We also picked up a few new passengers along the way I thought you might like. I clumsily destroyed their burrow so I guess it's only fair that they come along for the ride

I think that's the big stuff. I know you can't really send a message back, but I'll probably be sending a few more. Hope that's okay.

Marcy finished the message and looked over everything. After some hesitation she carefully ripped the paper out from the journal and folded it into a paper airplane. The kind she had always made for her and Anne in grade school, that required just enough complicated folds to be the most aerodynamic. She carefully measured out a shot of the potion and dumped it on the little aircraft. After sputtering to life Marcy whispered for it to seek out Anne, thinking of her childhood friend.

She cracked open the window and the airplane took to the wind soaring up and quickly out of sight as the fwagon marched onward.

Marcy still felt nervous about the message, still felt selfish for sending it. She consoled herself with the fact that if Anne didn't want to read it, she could always toss the message away.

Marcy forced herself to climb into the hammock, staring up at the ceiling for a time. Her mind swam with thoughts of Anne and where she might be. Of Sasha’s pursuit and unclear goals. Eventually she forced her eyes shut. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, and she wanted to be well rested to face them.

Chapter 3: The Village

Chapter Text

Dear Sasha...

[There are several attempts to start a letter based on the eraser indents. The rest of this page has been dedicated towards various experiments in the dark arts.]

Marcy ducked as a crossbow bolt whizzed over her head. Wind whipped through her hair as the Plantars rushed through the dark woods around them. Marcy was crouched on top of the fwagon, looking back at their pursuers.

Behind them, a toad road atop a racing roach, flanked on both sides by a pair of rhinoceros-beetles, shells spiked with a large horn on the back. Another three were harassing the wagon on either side, ramming into it and causing the already rickety cart to shake and rattle.

Marcy watched as the bounty hunter finished reloading his crossbow and started taking aim at Marcy again. She ducked down in preparation but then noticed his aim start to drift downward.

"Get! Away! From! Our! Cart!" Sprig's voice came from the side of the fwagon.

Marcy dropped to her stomach before rolling to look over the side. Sprig had opened the window and was hitting one of the beetles with a broom. Operating on instinct, Marcy reached down and swung the wooden window in front of Sprig just in time for the crossbow bolt to pierce the wood next to Sprig's head. "Sprig, stay inside!" Marcy called down. Marcy pulled out a fresh coordination curse from her bag and hurled it down at the rhino beetle on that side. The rhino charged for a moment longer but tripped over its own feet and ended up helplessly spinning on its back behind them, negated as a threat.

"Hop Pop! Do you know where we're going?" Marcy called out towards the driver's seat.

"Away from him!" he called back in panic.

Marcy reached into her bag for a potion of ice and hurled it at the path in front of the hunter.

The ice splashed and burst, forming an obstacle in the road. One of the rhino beetles didn't react in time, crashing headfirst into the ice formation, but the other one was able to skirt around it. The bounty hunter managed to goad his roach into jumping over it, at the cost of the fresh bolt he had been loading into his crossbow.

Fog started to swallow the area around them, becoming thicker by the moment as they raced forward. They were making sharp turns in the road as Hop Pop yanked Bessie this way and that to avoid crashing into the treeline that bordered the backroad.

Marcy reached into her bag for something else to throw, but she was down to just her utility alchemy - boil beads and a few smoke bombs that wouldn't be of great help here. Marcy shot a worried frown at their pursuers. "Sprig! Green shot!"

"I thought you told me-"

"I know, I'm sorry, please help!" Marcy called out over the rushing wind.

Sprig leaned out from the window and took aim with his slingshot. He fired a round right at the bounty hunter's mount. Vines sprouted out and started to tangle around the roaches body and legs. The bounty hunter leapt from the saddle as his mount stumbled and crashed across the road, firing one last shot at Marcy before he was lost in the mist. Marcy flattened herself against the roof, clenching her eyes shut. She heard the bolt thunk into the wood and opened her eyes. The bolt had punched through the very edge of the fwagon Marcy was gripping, its metal point arrested just inches from her forehead. The last rhino beetle slowed to a stop as it lost sight of its master, before turning around and retreating back to where the bounty hunter waited in the mist.

Marcy let out a huge sigh of relief as they left the danger behind them "Okay, we need to-"

Marcy felt a shift in her gut, one she instantly recognized from childhood - the feeling when you launched from a swing set and hit the top of your arc. When you felt that shift from soaring upwards to falling. That feeling you get when gravity reminds you that you can only defy it for so long before it brings you back down. Which is how Marcy knew that, in their hurry to escape through the dense fog, they had driven straight off the side of a cliff.

Then, like every time she had fallen before, she felt a deep guttural wrongness as the fwagon fell farther and farther down into the mist.

"Marcy? Marcy, wake up!"

Marcy groaned and turned away from the insistent tapping on her shoulders. "A few more minutes..." she complained, snuggling into the blankets. She had almost drifted back to sleep when she felt the disgusting sensation of a frog tongue slapping against her ear. "Blugh!"

She sat up, swatting at Sprig's tongue. As she fully woke up, Marcy came back to reality, not remembering how she fell asleep. "What? What's going on?" Her eyes darted around the room and was struck by how... decorated it was.

The walls were full of painted murals depicting nature scenes. Hills full of lush greenery, birds soaring through misty skies, robed frogs carrying torches. Everything was drawn in bright colors and smooth shapes. They were made from sturdy wood, but it was different from the fwagon. Marcy was on edge, but she couldn’t locate any immediate sources of danger, and she turned her attention to her family. Sprig and Hop Pop were wearing white dresses with embroidered flowers along the hemline. Polly's bow had been replaced by a pilgrim hood that she was pulling off as fast as her flippers could manage.

Marcy looked down at herself and found she was also wearing a similar dress. It was made of a soft breathable material, and perhaps more importantly, was clean. "Okay... weird..." Marcy said slowly.

"Are you alright, Marcy?" Sprig asked, face full of concern.

Marcy recalled a rough landing followed by a rapid descent down a slope, then presumably a crash. She felt sore, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as it could have been. "I'm good, I think. Where are we?"

"We just woke up, too..." Hop Pop said, looking around for any of their belongings.

The front end of the house was made of some kind of opaque glass. "Well, someone took care of us... maybe it'll be alright?" Marcy slipped out from the sheets and approached the door. She pushed it open to a very strange landscape.

The mist was still present, but it was fainter so deep in the valley, and it cast a haze over the scene. In the distance, truly titanic trees stretched what must have been hundreds of feet in the air, marking the edge of the valley. Buildings near and far could be seen, all of similar construction to the one they woke up in. Each one had a brick foundation with wooden supports, and a large amount of opaque glass. Directly in front of them was a hodgepodge of vaguely pagan-looking shrines and symbols. Stone spirals were carefully laid out on the ground beside the path. A shrine featured a statue holding a sapling aloft beneath a wooden effigy of the sun. The pathways were all painted with various symbols relating to farmers, flowers, and fire. Maypoles stood tall in a ramshackle town square.

Then there were the people.

About a dozen frogs were at this edge of the community, all tending to struggling plots of produce and vegetables. Some were chatting amicably, while others busied themselves with work. All of them wore the same style of dress that Marcy and the Plantars had been put into, many pairing them with bonnets or straw hats. As soon as they noticed the new arrivals emerge, they began to converge on them.

Marcy tried to not look defensive, but that was difficult to do when everyone was boxing you in against a wall. Despite Marcy's reservations, they all wore welcoming smiles.

"Well, hello friends! So you're awake. Name's Horace, and welcome to the hidden village of Gardington." The locals all raised their hands clapped twice, all at different times and with different intervals. "Ah come on gang..." Horace looked around, apparently disappointed in their performance.

"Gardington?" Marcy said, feeling confused. She reached for the map in her bag before remembering that she didn't have it. "I don't remember seeing that on our map..."

"We don't like drawing attention to our little slice of paradise," Horace said, gesturing at the settlement around them. "A place where every frog is a highly skilled horticulturist." He gestured around to the various plots of land where some frogs continued to tend to the crops with care and precision. Many of the crops seemed pretty meager. "Sadly, it is quite difficult. The land around Gardington was quite barren when we arrived. But we'll keep at it as long as it takes," Horace said with confidence.

Sprig looked skeptical. "Well, this was great and all, but we were just going to get back on the-"

"This is a town filled with just farmers?" Hop Pop asked with wide eyes.

"This place is totally hidden?" Marcy asked, similarly excited.

"Absolutely, you're some of the first newcomers we've had in a year or two. Would you like a tour?"

Polly looked at her brother in sympathy. “I don't think we really have time to-"

"Absolutely!" Marcy and Hop Pop agreed together, much to the younger children's despair.

"Wonderful! Come along!" Horace waved them on in a friendly manner. He looked at the reluctant Sprig and Polly and smiled. “If you two would like to stay here and get to know the other kids instead, that's fine. You'll have plenty of time to get used to Gardington." Horace suggested.

Sprig and Polly sighed as they were quickly surrounded by the village children, all eerily silent and wearing matching unsettling smiles. Sprig and Polly looked at each other nervously before Sprig started to sprint after Marcy and Hop Pop.

"Wait for us!"

"Yeah, we love gardening!"

Marcy gave each of them a knowing look, but welcomed them as they all walked deeper into the village.

Marcy had been looking around for any sign of the outside world in Gardington. A news board, or wanted posters, but the town seemed completely cut off from the rest of the world.

They had seen many of the plots of land that grew the various crops of the town. Many were struggling due to the harsh environment, but Marcy could think of more than one way to help with that. Not having her notebook on hand was torture. Trying to keep a mental catalog of all her suggestions in mind to share later.

However, one thing still confused Marcy, which Hop Pop had the initiative to bring up. “Say, Horace. While it’s impressive how well you manage to grow things here, given the soil quality, why did a bunch of horticulturalists like yourselves decide to settle in a place like this?”

“A fair question,” Horace said with a nod, “and one that is quite relevant to the last stop on our tour.”

Through the mist Marcy saw what was by far the largest building in Gardington. A massive greenhouse, covered in beautiful stained glass depicting various crops, standing at least two stories tall. The area around it was noticeably more verdant and alive than other places. Villagers of all sorts passed in and out of the green house, carrying saplings and potted plants.

"This is the home of our founder, who brought our ancestors to Gardington almost a hundred years ago."

That snapped Marcy's focus. “One-hundred years ago?" From what Marcy had read, frogs in Amphibia had close to human lifespans, much to her relief. The only amphibian she had read to live longer than a century was King Andrias.

"Yes. Oh my, in my excitement to welcome you into our home I forgot to give you the old song and dance," Horace said, mildly embarrassed. “You see, long ago our founder was wandering the wilderness around the southern mountains-"

"Boring," Polly interrupted, causing Horace’s features to pull into the first frown the group had seen on him.

"Polly, hush, you're being rude," Hop Pop scolded. "I'm sorry Horace, continue."

"It's all right," Horace promised, regaining his pleasant expression. “In any case, our founder came across a strange creature in the mists, covered in moss with shining yellow eyes." As Horace spoke some of the villagers who had been passing through the greenhouse stopped to listen in.

Sprig hopped up to Marcy's shoulder and whispered to her, "this sounds a lot like that thing Wally was always going on about."

"That just makes me more curious... now shush," Marcy tisked.

"The creature was one with nature, able to listen to and bend the plants and wildlife to its will," Horace spoke reverently. "Our founder learned its ways and followed it, becoming one with nature as well. He one day left the creature’s side to try and spread what he had learned to others, to bring other frogs to learn of its ways, but sadly the creature was lost to the mists. Still! Our founder did not give up, he spread word of his revelations from town to town, building a following of like minded frogs. Those who wanted to return to their roots and appreciate nature for the beauty it held!"

A murmur of reverent agreement went up from the crowd.

"Sadly the newts in Newtopia didn't care for us frogs thinking for ourselves. For having a higher calling in life then sending coppers to line their pockets. They attacked our founder and his followers. Some put up a brave stand and bought our forefathers time to escape here to the valley, where we could practice our beliefs in peace." Horace brought his hands together in contemplation, with many of the onlookers following suit.

Food, shelter, and a distrust of the government. This place was looking better and better.

"Would you like to meet our founder? He always likes to greet the newcomers to the valley. Though, please do not be too shocked by his appearance... he has been with us for a long time."

Marcy could sense some hesitation from Sprig on her shoulder, but Marcy nodded in acceptance, too curious to resist. She let Sprig and Polly down from her shoulders in case they wanted to abstain, but they followed her and Hop Pop in all the same.

They entered the greenhouse, which was crowded with plant life and villagers. All centered around a man, apparently the founder, sitting in a humble rocking chair painted in the same iconography that pervaded the rest of the settlement. The first thing Marcy noticed was that half of the man's face and body were covered in a thick green lichen that had small yellow flowers growing from it. The next thing she noticed was how old the other half of him looked. The skin on his face was so sunken that Marcy couldn't make out his eyes in the dim light. His body was emaciated to the point that his dress looked like it was wearing him, rather than the other way around.

As each villager approached with a plant, an attendant would lift the founder's arm. The founder himself would only whisper hushed words to the plant, and then things would change. Dying flowers would bloom. Withered saplings would grow fresh leaves. Failing herb bushes would sprout anew. It was druidic magic, Marcy quickly categorized. Power over plants and nature. She tried to contain her excitement.

There was one child, maybe a year or two older than Sprig, in the line next to their parents. They had no plant at all, though they carried an empty pot under one arm and a seed in the other. Unlike many of the happy or reverent faces in the greenhouse, they looked quite nervous.

"What's going on with them?" Marcy asked, kneeling down to Horace.

"Oh," Horace whispered, leaning up towards Marcy, "looks like they are going to see if Issac has the gift. " He gestured back as the kid got to their turn with the founder.

Issac went up to the founder and stood up on his toes. One attendant lifted the arm of the founder while another tilted the rocking chair forward. The founder brushed the boy's face with a moss covered hand and whispered to him. The whole room waited with baited breath as the boy stepped away in a daze. His parents set the pot down before him and carefully handed him a seed. The boy dropped to his knees, steadying himself, before plunging the seed into the soil. He held a hand over the pot. Moments passed in tense silence as the boy's hand started to tremble and sweat started to bead along his forehead. After what looked like a great deal of effort, a tiny sprout poked up through the soil.

The room broke out in cheers as Issac's parents pulled him in for a hug. Issac himself looked proud, but a little weary from all the excitement.

"Oh, what a happy day..." Horace said, hands on his hips as villagers rushed to congratulate the boy who was slowly coming out from his daze. "Not too many of these left, I'm afraid." He said, casting a worried look towards the town's founder. He seemed to be recovering from the exertion of leaning forward, breathing out in gasps.

Marcy looked at the display and turned to Horace. “Can, uh, anyone discover if they have the gift?" Marcy asked innocently.

Horace looked at her with a patient but hesitant smile. “I’m afraid that will have to wait a few years. This is a pretty important ritual in our community, and we'd rather you be a part of it for some time before you try it for yourself."

"Sounds fair!" Sprig said without hesitation, looking deeply uncomfortable with the whole thing.

Marcy frowned, but nodded in acceptance.

"Now, you all must be getting hungry. I have a few things to see to, but how about I get you set up with some lunch?"

Marcy's stomach gurgled in agreement as everyone accepted the offer. She looked behind her at the founder as they all departed from the founders home. Just for a moment, Marcy could swear the sunken eyes of the old man shifted onto her, a dim yellow bulb in an empty expression.

Then they were outside and heading towards what looked like a large picnicking area. Despite the minor disappointment of not being able to pick up a new magical tradition, Marcy was still optimistic about this place.

At the picnicking area there was a big communal cauldron filled with a creamy vegetable soup which emanated a strong scent of herbs. They each received a bowl of the soup along with a bit of bread to eat with it. It wasn't exactly Flour quality, but Miriam the frog in charge of the kitchens gave them rolls straight out of the oven, so they were warm and crispy. .

As they all sat down Marcy put on a smile. “Man, lucky we found this place. It's perfect!"

Hop Pop sat down next to Marcy and nodded. “It’s a paradise!"

Sprig sat across from them, setting Polly up on the table next to him. "You guys really want to stay here? Like, long term?"

"Yes!" Hop Pop answered.

"Frog, no." Marcy said at the same time. The two of them looked at each other, confused. They both started to clarify at the same time, then awkwardly stopped. Marcy gestured for her grandfather to go first.

"Marcy, this place is perfect. There's food, shelter, and most importantly," Hop Pop lowered his voice to a whisper, "it's hidden. "

Marcy nodded in agreement. "Yep, agreed on all counts," Marcy said, gathering her nerves for this next part. "Which is why it's the perfect place for the three of you to lay low while I go to Newtopia to clear your name."

"Hwhaaat!?" Hop Pop's reaction was one of shock.

"You can't!" Sprig said, almost knocking over his soup.

Marcy had expected those reactions, but what worried her most was Polly’s cold, downcast look, not saying anything at all.

Marcy’s heart ached at the expressions on her siblings’ faces. She reached across the table to take both Polly's flipper and Sprig's hand. "Ideally, I'll just be gone for a little bit, then we'll be together."

Polly still didn’t look at her. Sprig still looked liable to wrap himself around her ankle as an anchor to keep her from leaving.

Hop Pop recovered from the initial shock to debate this. "Marcy, there has to be another way…"

Marcy nodded, expecting this. "Okay. Let's consider our options," she offered. "One, we just stay on the run indefinitely. Not viable. I have no chance of blending in, which means that it's only a matter of time until more bounty hunters clock us and hunt us down. Two, we find some other town in the core or periphery to stay in. Again not viable. The core is filled with people actively searching for us, and once the other toad lords heard what happened, they'll be keeping an eye out for rumors of me specifically." Marcy steadied herself at the dour expressions facing her. Marcy sighed. “You three might be able to lay low somewhere, but I’m a beacon for everyone who wants to hurt us,” Marcy said sourly.

"What if you magically turn yourself into a frog somehow?" Sprig asked.

Marcy had considered that. "That would work for short periods of time. The formula I have would only work for about twenty-four hours, and its ingredients are not easy to get," she continued, “that leaves us with three: we go beyond the periphery and try to rough it out in the wilderness. We’d be able to stay together right up until some apex predator caught us with our guards down." Marcy had read about the wilderness, land that had slowly been ceded by the kingdom to the wilds. "The only long term solution on the table is to get the charges dropped... and the only one with authority to drop treason charges is the king."

“Marcy, you really think this is a good idea?” Hop Pop asked skeptically.

“No,” Marcy said honestly. “No, this is a desperate roll of the dice. But we don’t have good options. This is the best one I can think of.”

Marcy watched as her family pondered the issue at hand. "Well then why don't we all just stay here?" Hop Pop suggested seriously. "If this place is as safe as you think it is, then why leave?"

Sprig nodded, forcing a smile. "Yeah, this place is really growing on me,” he said with an awkward chuckle.

Marcy shook her head. "Would you guys really be okay with that? Giving up everything else? Hop Pop, you really don't care if you never see the valley again? Sylvia or the homestead?" Hop Pop looked regretful, but not fully shaken. She turned to Sprig, "Sprig, we'd never see Maddie or Ivy again. Are you really okay with that?" Her brother's smile faltered thinking of their mutual friends back in the valley. "Polly, I doubt this place is one for industry, we'd probably never be able to fix frobo, or invent much else here." Polly's face still looked sour and refused to meet Marcy's eyes. "Even if you all were willing to give all that up... I couldn't accept it." Marcy finished, trying to keep her expression strong. The thought of leaving her little family, even for a short period, caused her stomach to churn.

Hop Pop frowned but shook his head, "If you really think this is the best plan, then let me do it. I'll go to Newtopia and-"

"-not come back," Marcy shook her head and forced the rock in her stomach down as she interrupted. "You won't get close to the king. They're looking for you." Marcy reached into her bag and pulled out one of the coiled scrolls from Westmarch, unfurling it on the table. One of the wanted posters was just for Hop Pop, along with brief descriptions of a pollywog, a child, and a lanky limbed creature. There were no active bounties on any of them. "This was sent days after we left the valley," Marcy said, pointing to the date in the top right corner.

"Huh..." Sprig said, looking at the poster. “There’s not even a full description of you."

Marcy nodded. “And if I did get captured... I might be able to reason with Sasha. If she’s still covering for me then maybe she’ll help me with meeting the king." She wasn't looking forward to that conversation. "I'll send a letter to you guys once everything’s settled, letting you know it's safe to leave."

"What if we don't hear from you?" Sprig asked insightfully.

Marcy took a shallow breath. “...Then you know it isn't."

No one sounded happy about the plan, but Marcy wasn't hearing any more arguments against it.

From just a little distance away, a new voice entered the conversation. "Marcy, could you come and explain some of the ideas your shared with Jeb here?." Horace came up to the little hillside they all were sitting at. He was accompanied by a stern looking frog wearing a toolbelt, “He’s our resident carpenter.”

"Right, yes!" It was important they leave a good impression. Marcy threw back her soup and took the bread to go. "Please, think it over. We all need to be on the same page if this is gonna work," she pleaded gently before slipping out from the picnic table and walking off with Horace.

Marcy and Horace talked most of the way to the fwagon, where she hoped to pick up her journal. Talking with Horace reminded Marcy of her early days with Hop Pop, recommending different ways that they might improve the farm. Hopefully this time no one would end up tangled in tomato vines. Jeb was making his own notes for some of the projects Marcy had recommended.

Seeing Bessie and the fwagon was a relief. Bessie looked uninjured, grazing contentedly nearby. The fwagon was definitely looking worse for wear, but it didn’t seem damaged in any significant way. However, there were a number of crossbow bolts embedded deep in the wood. “I can, uh, explain those.”

“No need, whoever you were outside of Gardington is of little concern to us. You are judged only by how you act within our community.”

Marcy nodded, letting out a sigh of relief.

“Your plant friend is alright, by the way. Pot got a little cracked, but we transferred it to a bigger one for you. Sealed up the crack in its old pot,” Horace explained. “Beautiful little tomato plant, I have to say.”

"Mind if I just check to make sure everything’s settled?" Marcy said to Horace and made her way into the fwagon.

"Sure, take your time, if you're able to help things as much as it sounds like, then it'll be well worth the wait," Horace assured.

Marcy ducked her way inside. Aside from Petey, everything was in total disarray. She spent a few moments sorting through the mess, tossing things in the right general direction. She found Zappy’s cage, which was pretty bent out of shape by the rough landing, and put it on the counter next to her hammock. Finally, nervously biting her lip, she went to check on her alchemy supplies.

Opening the cabinet, she was pleased to find most everything seemed pretty much in order. A little jumbled up, but nothing broken. She started to set everything right. She put the two ingredients for the medusa curse to one side, the bag full of ruin gravel and vial of scorpileo venom. Her hand hovered over the vial of sparkly purple slime and she took it in hand.

It was the last of the raw spores from the mind control mushrooms. She had saved just this amount to leave the option to regrow more of the mushroom, in controlled conditions. She and Maddie had no luck in identifying the origins of the mushroom. It might have been the only one of its kind. So if she wanted any more of the mind control dust she would need to grow more to harvest the spores. Her mind flashed to the memory of Sasha, moving without a will of her own, and felt a pit in her stomach. Did she really want more of the stuff? It was a way to neutralize people without hurting them, but that didn't make it any less dubious. She had thought about burning away the spores more than once since that night. However, then she thought of the manticore that she had neutralized with the last of the dust. Keeping some on hand could save lives.

So she still had these spores. Should she cultivate them? Destroy them? Make one last dose of dust?

"That one of those alchemy potions you were telling me about?" Marcy was suddenly startled out of her thoughts, looking back at Horace who had climbed into the fwagon. "Sorry, you seemed to go quiet for a bit and I thought you might have forgot about little old Horace out here," he said with a pleasant expression.

"Ah, sorry." Marcy grinned sheepishly. Here she was trying to leave a good impression and just completely spacing out. "No, these are some spores from a rare mushroom I encountered in frog valley."

"Oh, how delightful! I'm sure we can find a place to grow it here in the valley. Do you know what kind of conditions it grows under?"

Marcy laughed and shook her head. "Oh, uh, no I don't. This is a rather dangerous fungus actually. It acts as a parasite on an animal host, puppets them to its will."

"It communicates directly with a creature, like you or I?" Horace asked with rapt attention.

"Well, no, more like it supplants the creature." Marcy, unnerved by Horace's sudden interest, slipped the little vial of spores away into her bag for safe keeping. "In any case, shall we look at the fields? I have a few ideas that we might use to help cultivate the crops better."

Horace looked unsatisfied for a moment, but quickly schooled his features back into the same pleasant expression as before. They set off together, talking about possible improvements to the farms around Gardington, including fog traps to retrieve more fresh water and potential fertilizers and compost they could cultivate from what they had on hand. All the while, Marcy couldn’t help but notice that Horace’s eyes kept wandering to the pocket in her bag that she’d tucked the vial of spores into.

Sprig was sulking against one of the wheels of the fwagon. He had argued with Hop Pop about not letting Marcy go through with this crazy plan, but his grandfather had been looking more and more resigned to the plan over the course of the day. So it was up to Sprig to find some way to convince Marcy to change her mind, but it was hard when she used logic, which he honestly felt was a little unfair.

While he thought, he absentmindedly pulled grass and wildflowers out of the ground, garnering horrified looks from passersby. Sprig frowned at them and decided to check on his sisters by jumping up and peering in the window.

Marcy and Polly were sitting at the booth of the fwagon, with Frobo's head settled on the table. Polly was up on the table with Frobo while Marcy was trying to point out different bits and bobs inside him.

"See, I think this cord ran down to some kind of power source in the chest," Marcy said, referencing an image on her phone. "I think we could use the battery in my taser to get him powered on!" Marcy said with a smile, looking expectantly at Polly.

Polly, however, was just wearing a sour expression, the same one she had since Marcy had pitched her plan at lunch time.

Marcy gently poked at Polly with a little screwdriver she was holding. “Hey, come on. Don't you want to get Frobo working before I have to leave?"

"I'll figure it out myself," Polly mumbled bitterly.

Marcy seemed a little perturbed at that. "Well, okay. Do you have any questions then? Even best case, it'll be a little while until I can come back-"

"Are you coming back?" Polly interrupted self consciously. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

Sprig saw the look of hurt that flashed across Marcy’s face and watched as she swallowed it down for Polly’s sake. “If I can, I absolutely will,” Marcy promised. “I’m going to miss you guys a ton, so keep an eye on Sprig and Hop Pop for me, alright?”

Polly paused before finally looking back at Marcy with a faint smile. “If I have to…” she said, reluctantly.

Sprig slumped back down beneath the window. Marcy just wanted to keep them safe… so all he had to do was prove this place wasn’t safe!

Sprig snuck around the back of the wagon to keep out of Hop Pop’s line of sight before sprinting over the pleasant fields of grass, clovers, and wild flowers as he disappeared into the mists.

Sprig had come up with absolutely nothing in his investigation and it was driving him crazy. Everywhere he turned he just found eerily pleasant people doing farm work or chatting with their neighbors. No monsters hidden in sheds, no secret agenda to take over the world, no one was even having an argument for frog's sake!

The last place he came to check was the place that creepy dried up old man was that they had been shown earlier. It was his last hope to find something to convince Marcy that they couldn't stay here safely. He had been waiting outside the door for almost twenty minutes now. People had stopped coming in and out looking for help, and the few assistants to the founder were just now cleaning things up. He eavesdropped on their conversation, but it was just about what the prettiest plant they saw come in today was. Blugh.

As they left, Sprig got ready to spring into action, but frowned as they locked the door behind them.

Sprig briefly considered breaking one of the stained glass windows to get in, but then noticed the windows in the roof were already left open to accommodate tree branches that had outgrown the green house.

Sprig hopped up and snuck inside. The founder was snoring softly, still looking more like a mummy than a person. Sprig started to search the greenhouse for something, anything suspicious. All he saw, however, was exactly what he had found in the rest of Gardington: Plants, art of plants, and a plant lover. Sprig shook his head. Maybe this place really was just weird and pleasant instead of weird and evil.

Sprig sighed, slumping his shoulders and turning to the founder. "Why'd you have to create such a nice place?" he groused, but the founder was as silent as ever. Sprig wandered closer to him, pulling out a little cloth baggy. He scraped some weird-looking moss off of the founder’s arm; he figured it would make a good going away present for Marcy at least. It was probably pretty magical.

As he tied the bag up he heard the sound of people just outside. They were already unlocking the door! Panicking, he scurried around behind the founder and gripped onto the backside of the rocking chair, willing every part of his body to stay still.

The door to the green house creaked open and Sprig instantly recognized Horace’s voice. "Alright, now we can call this council to order."

Jeb the carpenter, "don't see why we need to trudge all the way out here. Founder hasn't had a thing to add to these meetings for years."

Miriam tisked. "Now, don't be rude, we have the founder to thank for our lives here. Without him we would be living out in the world as savages, instead of together as a community."

"I'm just saying," Jeb said defensively, "that I have some apple cider that I could be warming our bellies with if we had these meetings at my home."

"Duly noted," Horace said, breaking the argument. "For now, we have more pressing matters to discuss. So, how do we feel about the new additions to our community?"

"Well," Mirium spoke hesitantly. "I think the elder Hopediah is a wonderful addition personally. He seems to be as passionate a horticulturalist as any of us. I think the pollywog can be taught better in time. Though she certainly does have an attitude on her."

Sprig rolled his eyes. Of course they loved Hop Pop.

"Agreed," Jeb said without hesitation. "My concern is for the middle two. Jane swung by and said she saw the boy pulling up grass and flowers by the roots." Jeb tisked in disappointment. “No empathy for the plants, no respect for their life."

"I heard the same from Levi and Constance. Just an angry, hateful child" Mirium added, clear frustration in her voice.

"Take a deep breath, Miriam," Horace took a slow, deep breath, and the woman copied him, letting out a sigh.

In a calmer voice, Mirium said, "apologies, got away from myself there." Sprig held back the urge to groan, couldn't anyone be a little upset here? "Well, if we're all in agreement on him, Horace, what's your opinion on the strange lanky one?"

"Well, on the one hand she seems to be quite the skilled horticulturist, she has all sorts of ideas for how we can improve our farming. If even a fraction of them work as well as she says they would then it could make us better keepers of the garden." Horace said with a grin in his voice. "On the other hand... she has some troubling thoughts. She's in possession of spores of a supposedly rare mushroom, and she seems of a mind to destroy them rather than cultivate them."

"Not only that, Horace," Jeb added seriously, "I've heard tell from some folks, she seems committed to leaving the valley!"

The other two councilors gasped in shock.

For a moment Sprig felt a little bubble of hope. There was a chance that they'd banish him and Marcy from the valley, which means that he'd get to accompany her to Newtopia! He wouldn't love leaving Hop Pop and Polly behind, but at least Marcy wouldn't be on her own.

"That certainly is troubling... Alright, well I move that we welcome the elder Hop Pop and the young Polly into the fold and remove the other two from our company. All in favor?"

"Aye."

"Aye."

Sprig pumped his fist once in celebration. New plan: brother-sister road trip was a go.

"Well, now all that remains is the method," Horace said casually.

"I have some mantisglove growing in my personal garden!" Miriam offered.

This offer confused Sprig. How would a plant get them out of the valley? His confusion was dispelled when Jeb spoke next.

"Why bother? All it would take is a shovel to the back of the head. It’d only take a moment."

"Now, Jeb," Horace reprimanded gently. "Hopediah clearly loves those kids, despite their sins. We should be compassionate in how we rid ourselves of them."

Okay, good news. Sprig was right, this place wasn't safe for them to stay. Bad news, this place wasn't safe for them to stay. As Sprig’s heartbeat began to skyrocket at the realization of the situation they were all in, he accidently shifted his weight, and the rocking chair let out a squeak of protest which drew the attention of all three council members.

"Founder, are you awake?" Horace asked, holding the lantern up high over his head to shed more light. Sprig, worried they would come to investigate, gave in to the impulse to run and jumped high through the broken window he had scrambled in from. "Gotta warn everyone, gotta warn everyone!" he repeated to himself as he ran back through the mist looking for the family wagon.

Horace came out from the greenhouse, shaking his head as he and the other two council members watched Sprig sprint into the early evening mist.

He let out a heavy sigh. "Well, guess we gotta go round up a mob to deal with this now."

"An angry mob?" Jeb asked.

"Oh, certainly not." Horace said, waving his hands in denial. "We're just going to be killing a couple of kids. No reason to make it an unpleasant affair. A normal mob will do just fine."

Marcy was sitting by the campfire while Hop Pop finished cooking supper. Polly was resting in her lap, snuggled close and snoring. Polly had apologized for what she said earlier, but it had certainly put a pall over the evening. Which wasn't helped by the fog that had descended around them. Marcy had slipped on her hoodie over her new dress to keep warm.

"Food's ready." Hop Pop announced without much enthusiasm. "Where did that boy wander off to?" he asked no one in particular, looking around the mist. He raised his voice and called into the mist. "Sprig if you're near, come on back! Food's on!"

Marcy poked Polly awake and helped Hop Pop serve out the green sludge that had come right out of the Plantar roadside cooking manual. As they all were ready to eat a distant wail could be heard through the mists. The silhouette of a frog came sprinting towards them.

Marcy strained her eyes, the voice immediately familiar to her. "Sprig?"

Sprig finally materialized, still wailing, running straight up to Marcy. "Don't eat that! It's poison!" Before Marcy could even internalize what Sprig had said, he opened his hand and slapped the bowl of porridge from Marcy's hand, spilling it across the grass next to them.

"Sprig, what the-?!" Marcy may not have found Hop Pop's food as appetizing as Anne's but she was still hungry after walking through half the valley.

"Oh, ha ha!" Hop Pop groused, rolling his eyes, "I know I'm not the best cook, but that seems a step too far."

"Yeah!" Polly said defensively.

"Well thank you, Polly-"

"Hop Pop's food isn't deadly, just inedible." Polly added, getting a scowl from her grandfather.

"We gotta go!" Sprig said, ignoring the banter entirely, which clued Marcy into something being seriously wrong. The frog boy grabbed a handful of fabric from Marcy's sweatshirt, imploring her to stand up. "They want to kill me and Marcy! Also! Here, magic moss, please use it to save us!” Sprig said, forcing a cloth bag into Marcy’s hands.

Marcy stuffed the bag into her skirt pocket for the moment. "What? Who does?" Marcy asked. She was answered by a hymn of humming voices.

The sound rose from the mist as a horde of frogs started to emerge from the gloom, carrying pitchforks, shovels, and scythes. Horace was at the head of the bunch, wearing an apologetic expression. "Good evening, Plantars, I was hoping that we could spare you this unpleasantness."

Marcy felt suddenly apprehensive.

Hop Pop stood up as well, moving to stand between the mob and the rest of his family. "Evening Horace, what unpleasantness is that?"

"Well, unfortunately, me and the other councilors got together, and while we're happy to welcome you and your young pollywog into the fold, I'm afraid that your elder two children will have to be dealt with first." Several of the frogs brandished their improvised weaponry, leaving very little to the imagination of what they meant by dealt with.

"Hey listen, no need for things to get violent." Hop Pop said, a cold sweat beading on his forehead. "We can just mosey along and leave."

Horace shook his head. "I'm sorry, but that just won't do. You see, no one leaves Gardington. You may tend to it above, or fertilize it from below, but none may leave the valley once they have entered it."

Marcy groaned internally. So they were a cult cult.

"Now listen here, I'm not gonna stand aside and let you hurt any of my grandchildren." Hop Pop said sternly.

"Oh, we're aware of that," Horace said sympathetically. "Take the old man and the Pollywog!" The crowd rushed forward, two burly farm frogs grabbing Hop Pop.

Marcy, recalling her conversation from earlier, reached into her coat pocket and pulled out the vial of mind control spores. “Stand back, or I'll toss these in the fire!"

The crowd hesitated, mostly out of confusion, but Horace called out, "Stop! Those are the spores of a rare mushroom! One that bonds frogs and nature together!" Gasps went out through the crowd, as Horace fixed Marcy with a hateful expression. “Now listen, just because you can't have a home here doesn't mean you need to destroy those innocent spores."

"Oh, I nearly wiped this species off the face of the earth!" Marcy knelt down to pick up Polly, whispering to Sprig, "Sprig, get one of my torches..." She stood back up as her brother scrambled back towards the wagon. Bessie was still unhitched and on the other side of the mob, looking at them with worry. Marcy looked at Hop Pop, who was still being held down by two very strong looking frogs.

"Don't worry about me! Save the kids!" Hop Pop pleaded.

Horace approached slowly, as if not trying to spook prey. "Now, I'm sure we can work things out if you just..."

As Sprig came back with her torch, Marcy dug a foot under one of the burning campfire logs, wincing in pain as she kicked it over the heads of the frogs, and directly into a wheat field. As the crowd of plantophiles gawked in horror, Marcy slipped the vial of spores into one of her sweatshirt pockets, grabbed the torch from Sprig and lit it on fire.

She gave Hop Pop a worried look, praying that the mob wouldn't hurt him before sprinting alongside Sprig between a pair of weeping farmers.

"After them!" Horace called out. Some heeded his call, while others started to try and combat the wheat fire Marcy had started.

As the mob of frogs chased after them, Polly asked, "Okay, uh, Marcy. What's the plan here?"

"Keep running!" she said with a shrug.

"Why'd we need the torch for that?" Sprig asked.

As they approached another wheat field, Marcy held the torch out at arm’s-length, letting the fire graze as much of the crop as she could. Howls of anguish followed in their wake.

"So the plan is arson?" Polly asked. “Sweet! Can I hold the torch?"

Marcy seriously considered this for a moment but then almost tripped over her own feet and decided to focus on running instead.

Hop Pop struggled on the ground, pinned by two burly young frogs. He frowned as he watched the progress of his kids by the bright fires being spread. Heat from the fire dispersed the fog, quickly replaced by rising pillars of smoke. A number of frogs had stayed behind to try and combat the wheat fire, though that number had thinned as Marcy spread the chaos to more fields and some abandoned this field to help another. Those with shovels desperately tried to hurl dirt on the fire while others were fetching water.

Hop Pop looked up to the two frogs holding him down, both looked almost in tears as they looked at the fire burning the wheat in front of them. Now he had cried over a ruined crop before, but that was less about concern for the plants and more about the concern he had for where he was going to get coppers to feed the kids. However these people had a love for their plants that went beyond the pale. He'd have sympathy if their fellows weren't chasing down his grandchildren.

Still, no time like the present to flex his acting skills. "My god, how could I be so blind!" He wailed, letting the smoke bring tears to his eyes. "I can't believe I raised such monsters who could do this!" he sensed them hesitating, "Please, we can still save some of the fields, let me go and we can work together!" Hop Pop pleaded.

The two frogs looked at each other and nodded, letting Hop Pop go. Hop Pop pretended to start helping, grabbing a water bucket that had been dropped "I'll go get water, you try to douse the fire with shovels!" As the two frogs joined the fire team Hop Pop started to run down the road but seeing them not even checking on him veered off to the side.

"You know, I'm glad we have a couple of new folks joining the community." Said one of the burly frogs to the other. "Even though it has been a little messy."

"Yeah, that Hopediah seems like a stand up kind of guy." Said the other heaving a good deal of dirt onto the fire. "I hope he comes back with that water soon."

Both of them glanced over their shoulders as they heard the sound of the wagon starting to move behind them. Bessie had been saddled back against the wagon with Hop Pop driving it onwards.

Hop Pop waved at them, "So long gentlemen!" he called over his shoulder with a snicker before snapping Bessie's reins and driving off in the direction of the spreading fire.

Marcy's throat burned, between sprinting for her life and the smoke she was inhaling, she felt dizzy and tired. She'd lost the torch. Her outstretched arm had collided with a scarecrow she had failed to see and she had dropped it.

She ran through an open area, trying to orient herself towards escape. Trying to find some sign or direction that might hold a way out of the valley. However, every direction she looked seemed to just be hillsides and dense forest with no clear path out .

Eventually she hit a wall, staggering to a stop as she tried to take in breaths, which only served to burn her throat further as smoke mingled with the much needed oxygen. She fell to a knee in a coughing fit, while Sprig urged her to get back up. Before she could manage it, a pair of frogs on the backs of giant centipedes scuttled out in front of them.

Marcy staggered to her feet to start fleeing the way they came, but half a dozen frogs, teary eyed and furious, were approaching from behind, gripping weapons. Marcy's gambit of burning down half the settlement had certainly drawn off a large number of them but it only embittered the ones who remained.

Horace stood amongst those that remained. His mask of courtesy was strained but still in place as he stared hard at the Plantar trio. "I hope you're proud of yourselves, taking so many innocents with your tantrum."

Marcy balked. "You-" she coughed harshly but continued after recovering, "you're trying to kill us!"

"And we still will, but I will give you one last chance to hand over those spores, and we can at least arrange a... painless passing for you and the boy."

Marcy shook as she considered her options. Just before she tapped out a pattern to call on Ram, a large dark shadow appeared in the smoke and mist and Hop Pop burst through the canopy with Bessie and the fwagon, kicking up dirt as he threw the brakes. "Jump on!" Marcy didn't have to be told twice. Sprig jumped through the door first while Marcy carried Polly in the crook of her arm. "Hang on!" Hop Pop advised and snapped the reins to get Bessie moving again. As the fwagon lurched forward, Marcy fell to her side, grateful for the save. However, this relief was brief - the fwagon shook gently as angry cultists boarded as it got up to speed.

Marcy got up, but felt unsteady on her feet. She turned to Sprig. “Go, keep them off Hop Pop!” she called. Her brother nodded, grabbing a bag of pebbles and his slingshot before launching himself through the trapdoor and onto the roof. Meanwhile, cultists hanging off the side were attempting to board the fwagon’s main cabin. Marcy grabbed for her taser that had fallen into the booth around the table, set Polly down, and steeled herself. One cultist managed to swing the door open and was about to clamber inside when Marcy intercepted and tazed him, causing him to lose his froggy grip on the fwagon and tumble off and out of sight.

She heard a clangor from one of the windows where another frog was holding onto the roof of the fwagon and trying to kick in the window. Marcy bumped and crashed her way through the cabin to get there just as the wooden window supports splintered apart. The frog prepared one last swing to hurl himself into the cabin. Marcy got there just in time, punching the prongs of the taser into his stomach and sending volt upon volt of electricity into the frog until he dropped off.

All the while, Polly cheered Marcy on as she played electrical whack-a-mole.

Marcy whirled one way and then the other trying to anticipate where the next cultist might try to enter from. Seeing no clear boarders, she started to make her way to the stairs to join Sprig on top of the wagon. However, she was instead greeted by a shovel to the face as the next cultist stormed in.

Marcy distantly heard Polly call out, "Marcy!" in a panic as she fell to the floor of the wagon, dazed and in pain. She blinked back the stars swimming in her vision and felt a weight settle over her. She saw as Horace was searching through her jacket grabbing the vial of spores. Marcy grabbed at his arms and the two wrestled with the vial until it slipped from their grasp in the fumble and flew across the cabin.

"No!" Horace shouted desperately, hand outstretched.

Marcy couldn't see, but she heard as the vial shattered against the floor of the wagon and smirked in triumph.

All of which would be fascinating if it wasn't a total distraction from her current predicament of being murdered.

Marcy weakly tried to shove or kick Horace off, but her head was absolutely swimming at that point and she felt herself getting weaker and weaker.

Then Polly swung a rolling pin into Horace's face, forcing him off of Marcy and allowing her to take in some much needed oxygen. She realized she needed much more time and tapped out a pattern. One-two-one.

The first thing Marcy noted was how much clearer everything was the moment she became a projection. Frozen in this moment, Horace had grabbed Polly by the face and seemed intent on hurling the Pollywog out the open door to their left. Polly was rearing back for one more swing before being hurled outside.

"Oh, exciting one this time." Ram said, popping in from the roof hatch. Marcy hauled herself up out from clipping into her real body and they both went to sit in the booth together. After a few moments, Ram spoke first. "So, this magic moss is a trip, huh?" Ram said conversationally with a pleasant smile.

"Yeah," Marcy agreed, trying to filter out this strange sixth sense that was drowning out her other thoughts. "Any ideas on how we can leverage it?"

"Nope," Ram answered, “we’ve never experienced anything like this. I only know what you know." They gently reminded. "If our current skill is as weak as that kid from earlier, then it’s probably useless to us."

Marcy sighed, rubbing at her temples. Maybe she could just try and physically shove him off, but it was a gamble. As distracting as this new sense was as a projection, she remembered how hard it was to think in her meat body. Her vision had been swimming as wires were clearly getting crossed on some level. It was affecting her coordination. If she fumbled in the next few moments then Polly might get badly hurt, or worse.

"Fortunately, we do have a means of perhaps understanding this new ability more fully." Ram reminded her pleasantly.

Marcy groaned, already knowing that they were right. "Fine." Marcy agreed reluctantly.

Marcy pushed herself up and wandered over to Polly. Her sister's face was twisted in righteous fury, readying herself to hit Horace again with her rolling pin. Marcy leaned in and pressed a kiss against her sister's forehead. Then she let herself feel fear. The same fear when the giant weasel was moments away from mauling Anne. When Yunan was about to execute Hop Pop. How then, like now, she felt helpless.

Then she felt nothing. Things were simple blacks and whites.

Once Marcy was back in her body, like every other sense, her new connection to plantlife was simplified. The grass and planter box were simply muted into irrelevance. She instead focused on Petey and her mind parsed this new sensation, new connection. The nutrients he was pulling from the soil. The process of photosynthesis. and the bending and swaying of the vines. Channels that she could now bend.

That was all in the first moment she returned to her body, when Horace was raising Polly up to throw her.

The next moment was spent briefly trying to control those vines and finding them resistant. It felt like trying to move a new limb that had several joints that Marcy had never experienced before. Or trying to lift a heavy rock with plastic grabber claws. It was something that she would need to work on for weeks, if not years. It was something the enemy had to cultivate over their lifetime.

Fortunately for her, she had a well of power to work around those limitations.

Marcy reached an outstretched hand to Petey and poured calamitous energy into it, the moss providing a conduit that wasn't there before.

Vines grew rapidly and shot out across the air and snapped around her tiny ally before she was hurled out onto the road and pulled her back into Marcy's grasp. Her enemy gawked at her in wonderment and admiration totally lost on Marcy in the moment as she grew more vines to constrain him. Vines wrapped around the frog's neck, lifting him into the air, whipping back a moment before using the full momentum to hurl him out the door like he had almost done to her ally.

Ally Safe. Enemy Dispatched. Objectives achieved.

"Haha, brutal," her ally commented. The little orb of wire mesh turned to look up at Marcy. "Hey, are you all right?"

Marcy's heightened state then felt a lightheadedness accompanied by a wetness on her upper lip. She wiped at it with her hand and came away with what her mind prioritized as blood. It was bad, but her brain couldn't figure out the source. In fact everything felt like it was on fire. Her vision swam and her ally called out one last time before she was out like a light.

Marcy woke up with a migraine.

Migraines were nothing new to Marcy, but that didn't make them any more welcome. She had sometimes gone days living on junk food and soda on little to no sleep, and at some point her brain would take exception to this and decide to punish her for it. She wasn't sure if this one was caused by the shovel to the head or overtapping her powers, but it sucked.

Migraines were one of Marcy's least favorite things. As it turned out, it was not even remotely improved with a slimy frog hand on her face.

Marcy was in the fwagon’s main bed, sharing with two unexpected occupants. One was Polly, who was tucked in between the blanket and Marcy's stomach, snoozing. The other was Sprig, who was sprawled out next to her and had in his sleep plastered his frog hand on her face. Marcy reached up and slowly removed Sprig's hand. She wiped the residue with the blanket and just laid back. Sounded like early morning.

The fwagon was still, no movement whatsoever. Which was worrying for Marcy. One night was probably not enough distance to get them out of the valley. Still, it would have to wait until her head ceased punishing her for existing.

So she steadied her breathing and sat as still as possible, waiting for the migraine to fade to a headache. Once she felt like she could move without crumbling into pain, she slowly extricated herself from the bed, taking care not to disturb her two siblings.

“So,” she thought wryly, “ this is what magical burnout feels like.” Anne had not been kidding when she described how unpleasant it was. Despite the brutal actions typical of her projections in trajectory mode, she was pretty excited about the possibility of adding another magic set to her repertoire. She checked on Petey, trimming him back down to size before patting him affectionately. She would definitely have to be careful using that moss in the future. The synergy was powerful, but it was really easy to burn through her power supply. Maybe with practice it would be easier.

Marcy wandered outside and picked up the smell of salt water in the air. It reminded her of summer afternoons with the girls, stepping off of subway trains at the stop for the beach.

Hop Pop was sitting watch next to a campfire with a mug in his hand. By the smell, Marcy guessed it was a bugaccinos. Judging from his slumped posture and the bags under his eyes, it didn't look like it had done much good.

Marcy wanted to leave him to rest, but it could be dangerous to sleep like that in front of the fire. "Hop Pop..." she said quietly and jostled his shoulder.

"Gah!" Hop Pop, clearly on a hair trigger, grabbed at his walking stick next to him. "Oh Marcy, you're awake!" he said, relief clear in his eyes.

"Yeah, sorry you had to take last night's long drive all by yourself..." Marcy said, coming to sit next to him.

"Two nights," Hop Pop corrected gently.

"Hm?"

"You've been out for a day and a half, Marcy. We were all pretty spooked when you collapsed. We've left Gardington long behind."

Marcy blinked back surprise. She really had to be careful when using that power. "...Where are we now?"

"On the west side of the mountains I think, near the inland sea."

"Where're we heading?"

"Newtopia," Hop Pop answered, clearly bracing himself for an argument.

"What!?" Marcy called out. "No, that- I should still go maybe but you-"

Hop Pop held up a hand. "Now, we gave your idea thought just like you asked and-"

"Yep, she's awake, Polly." Marcy whirled around to see Sprig in the window yawning. He wandered out with Polly and her bucket in hand. "You tell her where we're going?"

"Yep," Hop Pop said.

"Guys." Marcy said with a worried frown, "it's going to be dangerous enough by myself."

"Which is why we can't let you do it alone," Hop Pop argued back. "I think you were right. We have no good choices, but none of us were comfortable with you taking on all that risk by yourself." Polly and Sprig came to sit next to Marcy. "So if you think our best chance to stay together as a family is to go to Newtopia and get these charges cleared, then I think it's only right that we do it as a family."

Marcy looked at her little frog family with a mixture of warmth and deep, deep worry. "This is such a bad idea." She shook her head but couldn't keep the smile off her face.

"Well we have time to, whad'ya call it? 'Workshop' it?"

"I thought we should get Hop Pop a wig," Polly offered. “No one would recognize him!"

"I thought it would be better to turn him into a snail with a curse," Sprig suggested.

Hop Pop rolled his eyes at his younger grandchildren before looking back to Marcy. "I'd appreciate your input, personally."

Marcy took in a breath and nodded, thinking about different ways to make this work.

She couldn't leave anything off the table.

The momma rabbicoon stirred from sleep as the wagon started to move again. She didn't know why her nest was constantly moving, but accepted it as a small price to pay for the shelter in the rafters of the wagon. Predators usually couldn't get in and the two legged creatures that shared the space sometimes gave her and her babies scraps of food.

Her babies were asleep so the momma rabbicoon decided to do her nightly patrol to see if anything had changed.

The tallest of occupants, who had dark black fur on top of its head, was the only one still awake. It was writing something.

The rabbicoon, unsurprisingly, was not literate. She could not read the letter, could not understand its significance, or comprehend the squiggling lines that would communicate a message. All she knew was that the big creature often focused on these things at night when the others slept, and wouldn't pay the momma much mind while she made her patrol.

Her patrol eventually led her to a break in the floorboards. There was a small crawl space between the ground and the first floor that the bigger creatures couldn't fit in. The momma rabbicoon looked about and saw something new. In the back corner of the crawl space, tucked in between the floorboards was an oddly glowing mushroom growing upside down between a crack in the floorboards. She ran up to it curiously and sniffed it. There was something... off about the scent. She didn't care for it at all. She scurried back and away from it, noting to not let her babies down here for some time.

Above the floorboards, she saw the biggest one had finished with her project. She tossed the paper out of the wagon before retreating to her own hanging nest, which the momma rabbicoon planned to emulate.

Captain Grime sat atop his spider mount with a sour expression. The forced march out from the valley had been long, and he had more than one deserter abandon him at this point. Still, it was almost done. Soon, he would reach the eastern tower. In fact, if he strained his good eye he could see the top of the main spire, the banner of the toad lords waving in the wind.

He grinned a wicked grin. "We're almost there, creature. The capital might not see your kind for the threat they are, but the other toad lords will not be fooled."

He looked back at the captured captain of the Newtopian army. Stripped of weapons and armor. Blonde hair loose and hanging in her face. At the comment she looked up, giving Grime a look of depthless hatred.

Chapter 4: Barrel's Warhammer

Chapter Text

Four Weeks Ago

Sasha took in the same landscape she’d been staring at for the past few hours as dawn finally brought color to the mountain and valley around her.

Her tears had long since dried up. It was much easier to focus on the well of frustrated anger in her gut. She was already drawing up plans to chase down Anne and Marcy, but the stupid powder wouldn’t let her act on them. Every few moments she tried to push her body into motion, but no matter how hard she tried, nothing would happen.

She could still see Yunan breathing out of the corner of her eye, which was a relief. She had plenty of time to relive every moment of their confrontation with Anne and Marcy. Every time she pictured Yunan falling beneath the lip of that cliff, her stomach dropped.

Sasha heard the crunching of boots on dirt behind her. She estimated about ten sets of footsteps. She tried to wince, but her face still refused to show any emotion. She had really hoped this would wear off before anyone saw her like this. Frog, this was so embarrassing.

She could make out faint voices as they rounded the corner. "I assure you cap... mister Grime. W-we can handle whatever we find here." The voice was shaky and nervous. One of the privates. Jeremy, decent cook, but too spindly to be good at proper soldiering.

"I was demoted, not stripped of rank," Grime's voice argued coolly. "Which means I outrank you, private-" his words tapered off.

"General!" Another private, Shale, rushed forward to stand next to Sasha. Out of the corner of her eye Sasha could see that her cloak had sauce stains, again.

"You’re injured?" Jeremy's voice was incredulous.

Grime paced in a circle, taking in the scene of the fight. There was a dark patch where the boom shrooms had detonated, and wheel tracks running further down the path. Then he turned and made eye contact with Sasha. "What happened here…?" Sasha twitched, unable to make herself answer. Grime’s scowl deepened as he glared at her. Sasha decided she didn't like the look in his eye.

"Horn, horn, gotta blow the-" Jeremy fumbled for the conch shell on his belt, but Grime stepped forward, snatching it from him.

"There's no time! You six, grab the general and bring her back down the mountain for medical treatment. My toads and I will stay here and find out what happened from Captain Waybright."

"R-right, come on, guys!" Jeremy encouraged the band of newts as they hastened to obey.

The knot that had formed in Sasha's gut told her to order them to halt, to not leave her alone with the toads. However, one of her once best friends in either world had robbed her of her voice, and all she could do was listen as the team of newts picked up the general and marched off.

"So Captain, what happened? What caused the attack?" Grime asked, but he wasn’t even looking at her; his eyes were trained on the retreating newts. He paused, as though listening to a response. "...Terrible. We must find them at once and bring them to justice..." Then, as the sound of marching receded into the distance, he stepped closer to one of his subordinates, and whispered under his breath, "go back to town and round up our men, a wagon, and a cage. Tell them the captain is going to pursue the rebel Hopediah immediately."

Sasha felt a low roil of panic and rage start to fill her. She knew an attack was coming. She wanted to grab at the spear next to her and roll into a defensive position. But the chains that held her mind in check refused to let her move. She could only defend herself if something tried to attack her. Grime hadn't actually tried anything yet, and no matter how much Sasha’s intuition told her that an attack was coming, she couldn’t seem to convince the crap puppeteering her body to let her move.

So she braced herself for any clear threat, the sound of a blade leaving its scabbard, a petty kick to her back, a hand on her shoulder, anything she could use to justify defending herself.

There was no warning. All she felt was a sudden, sharp pain at the back of her head before she slipped into the void.

Sasha listened as the heavy wooden doors of the tower shut behind her and her jailers. A dozen or so toads stood around them, armed with swords and crossbows. A set of manacles connected by a heavy iron chain was carefully dropped into her cell from above. Grime fixed her with a distrustful stare. “Put them on, creature, we don't have all day."

Sasha slowly complied, not breaking eye contact with the one-eyed toad. She'd have to play along, at least for now. Sasha hardly felt at her best. Her sweat soaked clothes clung to her body after weeks of being stuck in this cage. Her stomach was coiled in a hungry pinch. What rations Grime had seen fit to spare her had been hard to keep down. All the same, she had every intention of getting out of his grasp today.

After all, no one else was coming to save her.

Anne had no idea she was here; Marcy was the reason she was here; Yunan was far too prideful to just let her target get away.

Sasha clicked the manacles into place over her sleeves and held them up for inspection. One of the toads, Fens, opened the cage door. She was wearing Sasha’s old scrunchie as a bracelet. It had been confiscated after Sasha had fired it like a rubber band at the back of Grime’s head on a day she had been feeling particularly sour. She regretted it; her long, loose hair constantly clung to her neck and got in her eyes.

Sasha forced herself to her feet. Her muscles ached, and her joints cracked from disuse. The toads that had come with Grime gave her a wide berth as Sasha emerged. The local toads were prepared but looked a great deal less concerned. She hoped that was something that she could take advantage of.

Grime waited for her, gesturing towards the corridor in front of them. "Walk, creature,” he said disdainfully.

Sasha strode forward, straightening her back to tower over her captors. She walked forward through the torch-lit hallway towards a pair of large double doors with circular brass knockers. As she got close, she saw a staircase that coiled around the room they were approaching and up higher into the tower. She considered making a run up them and out a window. She glanced back at Grime. A local toad was trying to talk to him, but the peg-legged toad’s gaze remained trained on Sasha, hand resting casually on the hilt of the sword at his side.

Not yet.

The two large doors ahead of them were shoved apart to reveal a small meeting room. An amphitheater of stone seats that all focused on a raised platform with a stone throne. Sitting upon that throne was a female toad dressed in a stained military uniform. Her dark hair was styled into a fauxhawk that flowed into a braid. One of her eyes was milky and scarred. Actually, looking at her more closely, she looked almost like a gender flipped-

"Grimothy!" the woman mocked, "so kind of you to visit!"

"Hello, Beatrix..." Grime growled.

Sasha stared at her captor in absolute disbelief. "Grimothy?"

Grime bristled. "It's a perfectly respectable name in toad-"

"Grime is short for Grimothy?" Sasha’s chest shook with laughter as she took in this news. "Wow, this almost makes the three weeks spent in a cage worth it."

"So this is the creature that has supposedly caused you so much trouble?"

"One of them. She let their leader slip away," Grime said critically.

"What?" Sasha scoffed, "are you talking about Marcy? She's not our leader. If anything, I'm the leader." Or at least she used to be. And would be again once she found those two.

"Really?" Beatrix mused, "’cause Grimothy here sent a message ahead, saying you and your little cohort destroyed his little tower, killed most of his soldiers."

"... I wasn't even in the valley when that happened." If she had been, the toads would have never gotten their hands on Marcy in the first place. "Which you well know."

"Oh, really? Why would I know that?" Beatrix asked, rubbing some gunk from her eye, rolling it between thumb and finger and then flicking it away.

"... Captain Beatrix, surely you realize who I am?" Sasha said.

Beatrix shrugged. "I've never seen a creature like you before in my life."

Sasha scowled, "Captain Waybright?" Beatrix tilted her head. "Defeated the Bandit Lord of the north in one on one combat? Killed the beast of the barren valley?" At Beatrix's shrug, Sasha grit her teeth, galled. "I helped blind the Great Serpent of the Great Bay! I - I-'' Sasha paused, a look of mortification coming over her. "Oh god, I sound like Yunan." She cringed, clenching her eyes shut.

Beatrix hummed, then snapped her fingers. "Oh, you’re talking about the 'Unconquered Sun...'" Beatrix put air quotes around the title. "Now there's a hero. You're claiming to be her?"

"Yes, now get these chains off of me," Sasha demanded, gesturing with her bound hands. "I have fugitives to hunt down, and this little detour your treasonous brother has hauled me on has cost me valuable time." She looked bitterly at Grime.

"I don't think I can do that." Before Sasha could argue, Beatrix continued, "I don't believe you’re who you claim to be," Beatrix said, "I mean, the Unconquered Sun was said to never lose a fight, and you..." She looked over Sasha's sweat stained appearance. "Well, you hardly look the part,” she said with a malicious grin that Sasha recognized as one she herself had worn before; she was being toyed with. "I mean, a Toad Lord arrested you, am I supposed to take the word of some strange creature over him?"

Sasha seethed, but didn't let it get to her. Her options were limited, and if she needed to play by their little rules for a little longer than so be it. "Then how can I prove it?" She asked, injecting ice into her voice.

"Well, here in the toad lands, the way a lowly creature such as yourself would prove your mettle would be to take on a trial to prove yourself worthy of consideration."

"Fine," Sasha agreed. It was better than being stuck in a cell. There might be a window for her to escape.

"Beatrix-" Grime started.

" Captain Beatrix," Beatrix corrected.

Grime groaned before amending, "Captain Beatrix, you can't-"

"Captain Beatrix, Lord of the Eastern Tower," Beatrix needled with a mocking grin.

Sasha smirked; Beatrix might be jerking her around, but Sasha wasn't about to give up a chance to pester the one who dragged her out here. "Yeah, Grimothy, show some respect to your superior officer."

Grime turned around to snarl at Sasha. "Silence, creature, or I'll-"

Beatrix didn't let him finish his threat. “Superior officer?" she asked Sasha.

"Yunan stripped him of his rank. ‘Cause he was acting like an unhinged nutcase."

Beatrix cackled, slamming a fist against her stone armrest. "Hilarious! If true, of course."

Grime forced them back on topic, "Bea, you can't seriously be considering letting this creature go. You read my report, they are dangerous and need to be put down."

Sasha tested the bindings on her arms. If worse came to worst, she was pretty confident that she could snap them if she could activate that little trick of hers.

"So far, what I've seen is a spindly armed creature that, if she is who she claims to be, has nothing to do with your tower falling, and will bring a whole heap of trouble to my doorstep," Beatrix said scornfully. "So, a trial is in order. If she is who she claims to be, then she should have no trouble completing it. If she fails, then it's no skin off our bones." She shrugged. "After all, she chose to take on the trial."

"But-" Grime held up his hand.

"So, what is this trial? While I could watch you dunk on Grime all day, I do have places to be.” She glared down at her captor. "Reports of treason to make."

"Right!" Beatrix leaned forward, rubbing her hands together menacingly. “Your task... will be to retrieve Barrel's Warhammer."

From around the room, toad guards that had gathered gasped or chuckled in response to the announcement. However, what concerned Sasha the most was the feral grin that came across Grime's face. She wanted more details, but knew that it would be seen as an admission of weakness. So instead, she dug deep into the pit of rage she'd cultivated during her captivity, and in a flash of magenta energy, snapped the wrist restraints. That definitely got a reaction as the toads around her quieted down at the sudden display of strength. "So, when do we head out?"

Sweat beaded against Sasha's brow. After a few days of arachnid travel, they had finally arrived at the burnt landscape. In the distance a volcano sat, puffing out smoke. Once again, she cursed the loss of her scrunchie as the heat pouring off the orange pools of bubbling liquid plastered her long hair to her face.

Sasha had been bound to a wagon with heavier chains, but at least this time there was no cage, so she could stretch on the journey. Despite this hammer supposedly being some important relic, the Toads didn’t even seem to know where it was. They had wandered through a muggy forest, a grassy plain, and finally to this blasted mountainous hellscape. It almost felt like they were tracking something instead of finding some stupid weapon.

"We're here," Grime said suddenly.

Sasha looked around. She had been expecting some ruins, some fanfare, or at least some dark cave to delve into. But all around them was just more of the same craggy landscape. “Where’s here?" Toads around her unbound the chains holding her down.

Beatrix rode up, spyglass in hand. “See for yourself." She pointed out towards an outcropping of earth that sat in the middle of a lake of the boiling liquid.

Sasha took the spyglass and looked through it, following the toad captain’s claw towards the end of the long, narrow island. Through the magnified spyglass, Sasha could see what looked like a steel hammer stuck head first in the earth. Even left out like it was, it looked a lot better then the chipped and dented equipment that toads typically carried. Sasha half suspected they had sent someone ahead to stage the hammer. "That's what I have to retrieve? Why haven't any of you done it?"

Beatrix ordered a couple of toads to set a rowboat they had carried from the tower into the water. She turned and shrugged at Sasha. "Stuck."

"Stuck?" Sasha responded, unconvinced.

"Really stuck," Grime affirmed with a mock innocent tone.

Okay, so obviously there was something they weren't telling her. Some of the toads were looking towards the island with fear. Maybe there was some kind of creature in the water?

Sasha had hoped to get some info out of the entourage Beatrix had brought along, but Grime kept her from talking to anyone. She supposed that was understandable after she had convinced half of his own soldiers to abandon him on the way to the east tower.

Sasha stepped forward onto the rowboat, whereupon she was tossed a paddle. She looked at the toads who were gathered on the shore. There were twelve, including Grime and Beatrix. All were mounted and armed with an assortment of crossbows, swords, and hammers. She sat down in the boat as steam poured up from the boiling water all around her.

She kept her eyes trained on the water for another of Amphibia's horrible creatures but none swam up to meet her. Instead, not for the first time that week, she pondered the nature of this 'Barrel'. She had heard his name invoked by various toads she had come across in her missions with Yunan, but couldn't recall any details about who he was or what he had done.

Eventually, she arrived at the island and, with few other options, started to climb her way up the steep wall of rock and lichen that clung to the side. She started to walk across the length of the island, still waiting for the other shoe to drop, for some monster or ambush to take her down a peg.

She arrived at the hammer without issue. She looked back at the toad party in the distance and held her hands up questioningly. "This is it? Seriously?" Beatrix gave her a thumbs up and Sasha just shook her head. She grasped the haft of the warhammer and gave it a tug. It didn’t even budge. Well, it certainly was stuck. Maybe this truly was just a riddle those pea-brained toads couldn't noodle out.

Briefly, Sasha thought of Marcy, suggesting a dozen different techniques they could use to get the job done. Sasha shook the thought away. She didn't need Marcy, and she didn't need Anne. She could get out of this situation her own way.

Sasha thought back to the feeling of betrayal when Anne shoved her away from the old traitor mayor. The feeling of helplessness when Marcy trapped her in her own body. She scowled and adjusted her grip. The ache in her muscles faded, and she felt new strength flow into them. The hammer resisted her, but slowly began to move under the pressure, creaking out a groan of protest. Then the island itself started to move under her.

Oh. That made sense. Sasha held on tight as the enormous creature under her feet shook off the dirt caked into its back.

Grime watched with delight as the great narwhal worm awoke from its slumber and the human started to slip, holding on only by the length of the warhammer.

"So..." Beatrix started, throwing a handful of jerky into her maw and then speaking, mouth full of food. "How long before you think she's eaten?"

"Eaten? Don’t be absurd." Grime looked out as the narwhal worm started to flail wildly back and forth, trying to shake the blonde matchstick off of its back like a flea. "She'll obviously be crushed to death."

"Ten copper?" Bea offered with a grin.

"Easiest money I'll ever make."

Sasha gritted her teeth as she held on tightly to the warhammer. The creature she previously thought was an island reared up, standing vertically as it tried to dislodge her. She didn’t panic; she refused to. She choked up on the hammer until she could plant her feet into stable footholds. She was just in time; as the creature started thrashing back and forth, she held firm.

The narwhal worm splashed back into the water, looking around for the prey it assumed had been flung from its back. With her feet solidly underneath her, Sasha felt her body surge with power again. She reared back, wrenching the hammer free. The creature roared in pain as the age-old thorn was pulled from its back. A series of runes carved into the hammer started glowing with magenta light; Sasha grinned in triumph, but it was short-lived. Without the hammer to anchor her, the creature reared up and flung her off of its back.

Sasha tumbled through the air, heading straight for a boiling bath in one of the the sickly orange cauldrons that dotted the landscape. As her hands fumbled over the hammer’s haft looking for a better grip, she accidentally pressed a button and the forces of gravity shifted once more. Jets burst from the back of the hammer, sending Sasha into a horizontal spiral. She crashed into a bank of blackened stone, suffering some painful bruises but narrowly avoiding the boiling water bubbling ominously below her.

Sasha pushed herself off the ground, panting lightly with exertion. Without her powers activated, she could feel the hammer’s true weight. The head rested on the ground and she could only manipulate the shaft with serious effort. She watched as the great beast caught sight of her and started to slowly wheel itself into position to charge her.

Sasha, in a rare moment of weakness, considered running. However, she put the thought aside. She wouldn't be able to run long with the hammer, and without the hammer the toads weren't going to let her go. She could not escape twelve mounted toads in terrain this open, especially with how weak she felt.

No, she would have to stand her ground here and put as much effort as she could into cracking this thing's skull. She assumed whoever Barrel was had died thinking the same thing, but there was one key difference between the two of them.

He wasn't Sasha goddamn Waybright.

The worm charged, bringing its great pointed horn to bear.

Sasha steadied her breath, crouching down as a creature twice the size of a train steamed towards her with murderous intent. She waited as the creature tore up the landscape between them, jagged rocks splashing aside as easily as the boiling water. "Wait for it... wait for it..." Sasha whispered to herself as she dug her foot into the craggy earth, crushing it into powder as she coiled her body like a spring. She hoisted the hammer up to her shoulder. “Now!" Sasha took a running start, each step crushing stone beneath her as she went. She sprinted to the edge of the island she was on and then, cracking the stone beneath her, launched herself high into the sky.

She soared into the air, hammer at the ready, and as she hit the top of her arc she pressed the rocket button again to start herself hurtling towards the creature at breakneck speeds.

The worm itself seemed surprised by the sudden charge and looked up scornfully at Sasha, positioning its great horn like a spike to impale her. Or like a nail to be smashed in.

Sasha stopped the jet and started spinning through the air, building up more and more momentum as she dove towards her prey. At the very last moment she tapped into her powers one more time and swung the hammer as hard as she could into the horn.

The impact was strong enough to reverberate painfully up the length of her arms, forcing the hammer out of her hands. But as painful as it might have felt to Sasha, it was much worse for the worm. Its great horn didn't move in much, but positioned as close as it was to the brain, it didn't need to travel far. Sasha wondered, as her body once again started to roll and crash across the beast's back, if it died instantly or if it had a moment to truly consider that she had killed it in one strike.

Whatever the case, momentum ghoulishly carried the corpse of the narwhal worm onward.

Sasha dug her fingers into its back to start breaking her momentum. She slowed herself down until she was riding out the creature's final death knell. The hammer had clanged and somersaulted across its back, but the great weight of its head kept it from falling off the side.

Eventually the worm’s body crashed into the side of a cliff and came to a sudden halt. The abrupt change in momentum sent Sasha tumbling forward. She laid there for a moment, soaking in the pain and thrill of victory.

Unbidden, the thought of Anne came to mind, offering her a hand up, like she had a bad fall in PE and needed help.

Sasha forced herself to her feet and did her best not to limp as she marched towards the warhammer. She hoisted it once more onto her shoulder and started to make her way towards the front of the worm. She took grim satisfaction in her work as she passed by the horn. It had almost split in two. However, as she got to the edge of the cliff, she was greeted by an unwelcome sight. Four toads on spiderback came close, but kept their distance. Their expressions were filled with both wonder and fear as they looked up at Sasha as she stood atop the slain titanic creature.

One gestured for her to follow, and she didn't need to be told twice; the sooner they could get this over with, the better.

She walked with a ring of mounted guards around her, spaced far enough apart that before she could get to any one of them the other three would be able to open fire and outpace her.

They escorted her to a large natural pit in the ground. The toads were all circled around it, with Beatrix on the opposite side from where Sasha was approaching. Grime was nowhere in sight, but once she arrived at the edge of the pit, she saw him waiting down at the bottom. "Got your stupid hammer,” she said as she reached the edge of the pit. Two of the guards dismounted behind her.

"Congratulations on completing our little challenge. I'll be honest, I didn't expect you to. That hammer really is something else."

Sasha took a breath, resisting the urge to brag. She didn't want to drag this out. "Yeah sure, am I free to go now?" Sasha was trying to keep this professional but she was distracted by movement from the pit below; Grime appeared to be stretching out his arms.

"Oh no, now that you've proven yourself an equal to toads, you've earned a right to a proper trial," Beatrix sneered, flashing her pointed yellow teeth.

Sasha hissed out a breath. She was so tired at this point. "What the hell are you talking abou-" Beatrix's eyes darted to the side, looking past Sasha, who was too exhausted to whirl around and prevent the two toad guards from shoving her into the pit with Grime. She fell without her customary grace or poise, one hand digging into the black rock below as it painfully imprinted into her hand. She hissed in pain, swallowing down a sob of frustration as the toads all around laughed at her ungraceful tumble.

"Yes... a trial by combat," Beatrix said to cheers from the locals.

Sasha forced herself unsteadily to one knee and looked up scornfully. "You can't be serious, I just killed that giant worm thing."

"I know! Impressive!" Beatrix said without any sarcasm, "I was good to let you go, but Grimothy here insisted you be tried for treason. And unlike those snooty newts you know, we only do trials one way out here."

Sasha snarled threateningly up at the captain. "When I get to the capital-"

"LIsten, captain, you have to understand," Beatrix said patiently. "Either I get to see my brother put in his place by a newt’s pet, or I get to see Newtopia's newest golden child get knocked down a peg," she explained cruelly, "it's a win-win for me." She sat down on the edge of the pit to get comfortable.

Sasha once more felt a hateful fire build in her gut as she forced herself to her feet.

"Now, on the count of three, you two will fight. If you surrender, you will concede the trial. If Captain Waybright wins, she will be cleared of all charges. If Grimothy wins, then Captain Waybright will be declared guilty of treason, and summarily executed."

"Fine," Sasha accepted through gritted teeth, holding out her hand. "Toss me a weapon then, or do you expect me to fight unarmed?" Sasha asked critically.

"Oh, of course not." Grime answered this time, drawing his chipped but otherwise sharpened sword, “but each of us is only allowed one," he explained, nodding towards the warhammer at Sasha's feet.

Sasha paled.

"Three," Beatrix announced, leaving no room for argument.

Sasha took hold of the hammer, taking a few deep breaths as she tried to think of a plan.

"Two."

Sasha hauled the hammer back onto her shoulder, almost tilting backwards from the weight. The pink symbols carved into the hammer all glowed to life once more.

"One!" Beatrix threw her hand down and the fight began.

For the first time that day, Sasha thought she was going to die. Grime was eager but not reckless; he patiently tested Sasha's defenses. Sasha was able to use the hammer to parry, but her balance was thrown off by the momentum of the swing. Sasha staggered, chasing after the head of the hammer. Grime grinned wickedly, the savage joy of a predator cornering his prey. Sasha regained her footing and tried to get a better grip, but the head of the warhammer was bigger than her torso and she had never trained with warhammers. Yunan specialized in light, fast weaponry and had taught Sasha to master the same. She was able to swing the damn thing thanks to her her powers, but her opponent wasn't some dumb worm that would just sit there and take it. Grime was a seasoned warrior, and he was smart enough to avoid Sasha's clumsy telegraphed swings and wait for an opening.

The only thing that was keeping him from striking her down was the hammer's ludicrous reach advantage over Grime's sword. But Sasha couldn't keep this up forever, and the moment she left an opening it would be over. The moment she grew too tired...

And she was already so tired...

Grime darted forward and Sasha was quick to react, making an overhead swing to crush the toad, but it was a feint. When Sasha realized her mistake, it was too late to stop. Grime skipped back out of the arc of her swing, and Sasha buried her only weapon into the ground, the stone shattering into a spiderweb of cracks. Sasha spent a moment trying to haul the hammer out, but had to give it up; Grime was upon her.

The former toad captain charged her, stepping around the head of the hammer and making a thrust straight at Sasha's throat. Instinct kicked in and Sasha ducked down and to the side, feeling a sting from her right ear. Grime tried to follow the motion of her dodge, cleaving down towards her neck, but Sasha committed more fully to her duck and tucked into a roll as the blade narrowly missed her vitals.

Sasha rolled away and back to her feet, trading the mobility of being unburdened for being defenseless. She jumped back up to a fighting stance, but paused as she saw little blonde strands were floating away from her. Her eyes refocused on Grime, spotting long locks of blonde hair scattered at his feet. Sasha hand shot to the back of her head and found that her curtain of long hair had been roughly cut away by Grime's sword.

Grime savored the look on Sasha's face before going back on the hunt.

Sasha was now in full retreat; there was a feral part of her that wanted to just charge and grapple the soldier, but Yunan's drilling kept her from making that suicidal attempt. Sasha waited until her back was near the wall. As Grime rushed in for the kill with a horizontal slash she jumped up over the blade and then kicked off the wall, launching herself over Grime's head. She rushed back to the hammer and with a surge of effort wrenched it from the earth once more. She whirled on a heel and swung at empty air. Grim looked annoyed but hadn't chased after her.

So Sasha was once again armed, but it didn’t do her much good. She felt exhausted while Grime still looked fresh, determined, and well fed. As he again approached to play his part in their game of whack-a-toad, Sasha cursed the lot of them. If she just knew how to wield the damn thing then she could break them all .

Then the world around Sasha flickered. All of a sudden she was back in Newtopia, but... not? The ancient buildings were definitely Newtopia but nothing felt ancient. The stone was crisp and uncracked, unworn, and fresh cut. Purple lines of... energy coiled around buildings giving everything a weird sci-fi aesthetic. Sasha was somewhere on the castle grounds with the castle rising up on her right. Training grounds, if she had to guess.

She had been distracted from her sparring opponent, a young toad wielding Newtopian steel. Sasha was too confused by what she suspected was a stress induced breakdown to defend herself, but fortunately her body responded for her. Her hands let the hammer slip through her fingers into what she suddenly felt was a better position, and moved her center of gravity down to better ground herself. She used the shaft to block a trio of slashes and then raised a foot to kick the toad away.

The world flickered back to the black stone fight pit. The young toad she had been sparring with suddenly flickered back to being Grime, who was stumbling back from the force of the kick.

She hadn't meant to take those actions, but it didn't feel like her body was being puppeted around, it felt like the moment when you feel a fly land on your arm and you slap it. It was unconscious, it was instinct. Suddenly, the great hammer no longer felt like an ill fitting tool in her hands. Sasha adjusted her grip one more time as she focused her gaze on the fly she was about to crush.

She rested her thumb on the button for the hammer’s jets, then engaged Grime once more. This time, it felt like an even match as she pushed her reach advantage, suddenly incorporating the momentum of the hammer into her movements like an ever-flowing wrecking ball. Grime wasn’t easily undone, but he was looking less confident as bone-crushing swings started to miss him by fractions of inches.

A technique pushed its way to the front of her mind and she went with it, taking a wild horizontal swing at Grime. The toad warrior stepped back out of the way and began to dart forward to land a decisive blow as Sasha recovered. However, Sasha nimbly rolled the hammer in her grasp until the head faced the other direction. She tightened her grip and then pressed the jet trigger. Flames burst out from the back of the head, shifting its momentum on a dime and catching Grime off guard. His armor did little to soften the blow; Sasha heard something crack in his arm. The Lord of the South Tower was knocked clear across the pit, and his sword clattered against the ground.

Grime scrambled to retrieve his weapon with his uninjured arm, but nearly lost his hand in the attempt as Sasha brought the hammer down atop the sword, turning it into little more than scrap metal.

Art by Papyjr13 [ Blog / Art ]

Grime looked up at the third of these creatures he had underestimated. That had beaten him in one on one combat despite being half starved and bruised beyond measure. He knew he could not win, but there was a look in his eye as Sasha hoisted the hammer up that relished in perhaps depriving her of satisfaction.

"I submit!" Grime croaked out, not quite able to keep all the pain out of his voice.

There were no cheers for Sasha's victory. Only jeers from the toads who now looked pitiably on the former captain. Beatrix first amongst them. "Grime has forfeited the trial!" she announced, standing from her seat. "I suppose you are who you say you are, Captain Waybright," she said with a mocking shrug, "sorry for the confusion. But you can never be too sure."

Sasha breathed in and out while looking down at Grime, shaking with rage. "And what if I don't accept?"

Beatrix took a moment to register the question before answering flatly, "you're the one on trial, Waybright, you have no right to refuse. Drop your weapon."

But Sasha didn't.

Everything, everything that she had been put through could be linked back to this piece of sh*t. Sasha had to fight her friends because this asshole had forced Marcy's hand. He had ordered Anne to be stabbed. He had knocked her out and dragged her half starved across Amphibia to this god forsaken place. He had put her up to fight against a giant murderous worm and then cornered her into a duel to kill her.

She was supposed to just... walk away? Leave him breathing like it was all some clerical mistake?

Her grip tightened on the hammer as she imagined bringing it down on Grime. It was big enough that she wouldn't need to aim for the head; she could turn him into a slurry of bone and blood with one rocket powered swing.

"Step away, Waybright." Beatrix's tone held a note of warning, but that was far from Sasha's mind.

Sasha's gaze remained fixed on her opponent, who nursed his arm and smirked. "Go ahead, monster, I don't fear death. Show your true colors."

Sasha could see it in his eyes. He wasn't lying. He was willing to die a martyr if it meant rallying the toads against her and her friends. However, there was one slight miscalculation he had made.

You needed witnesses to be a martyr.

She glanced around the pit. At least half a dozen toads had crossbows trained on her, and the others were drawing steel from scabbards. A few moments ago it would have made her second guess herself and back down, but now it only made her laugh. It started as a dry, hacking cough, but resolved into a flutter of manic giggling. Deep down in her soul, the power she’d been tapping into all day assured her that she could kill everyone here, despite the odds.

Why Hold back? Nothing here counted. Nothing she did here would follow her back to Earth.

She was going to kill Grime, that was a given, and if the rest of them thought to stop her then they could die along with him. "I mean, if Marcy could manage it, how hard could it be?"

She slid a foot back, the rock cracking beneath the pressure.

’Cause no one here cared about her. Her two friends had left her behind. Abandoned her and left her to suffer.

This world didn't matter.

Nothing here mattered.

No one here mattered...

Just as she was about to raise the hammer and begin the slaughter, she was distracted by a call from above as the toads that had been training their weapons on her all looked away in alarm.

"Hey wait, you can't-'' one toad protested to someone out of Sasha's line of sight. He was then summarily kicked over the edge of the pit and fell inside, landing with a thud and a groan. The toads that had been on either side of him whirled and charged at the unseen threat, before letting out twin cries of pain. One of them stumbled backwards over the edge, grabbing desperately at the lip of the pit to arrest his fall with one hand while the other clutched at his face, where two thin red lines had been freshly cut.

The figure finally loomed over the edge, gauntlet blades dripping with fresh blood. General Yunan, Scourge of the Sand Wars, Defeater of Ragnar the Wretched, and the Youngest Newt to Ever Achieve the Rank of General in the Great Newtopian Army, did not take the time to announce herself. Her face was twisted with rage and concern as she dared any other challengers to step against her. "Sasha, are you-"

General Yunan was no stranger to long pursuits over great distances. Though she was usually there to kill the person she was tracking, not save them. In a similar vein, she had seen a great many things over her long and illustrious career, but none quite compared to what she saw at the bottom of the pit before her.

She saw Sasha, bruised and bloodied, but not broken. A battering ram fashioned into a warhammer gripped tightly in her hands; it had a number of carved symbols glowing with Sasha’s signature pink hue. It was the same hue that Yunan had caught glimpses of in Sasha’s eyes during some particularly intense battles. Unlike before, however, the glow now spread upwards into her hair, which moved unbidden, like a campfire: wild, but contained.

Those faintly glowing eyes now stared up at her with shock and confusion. Yunan watched as she let out a shuddering breath as her hair was snuffed back to its original blonde. Her eyes grew misty for a moment but she held back the tears. She looked away from Yunan, back down at the traitor Grime. "I accept your surrender," she said simply. The hammer fell with a metallic clang and Sasha started to move slowly towards Yunan, not quite limping but looking ready to keel over any moment.

Yunan hopped into the pit, looking up in challenge to everyone around them. She locked eyes with Beatrix. "I hope you don't think you'll get away with all this, Captain ."

"Leave with your monster, General. She won the duel, so I'm honor bound to let her go, but I don't have to like it. If you don’t like how we do things, then I’d stick closer to your precious capital."

Yunan glowered at the captain. The Toad Lords were growing ever more bold in their disrespect of Newtopia. Yunan had half a mind to stride forward and cut down Grime for the traitor he was, and welcome any rebuttal. However, that would put her actual objective in jeopardy. For the first time in their acquaintance, Yunan did not believe Sasha was ready to fight. "Grab on." She said quietly to her subordinate, turning around and crouching slightly. Sasha practically collapsed against Yunan's back. Yunan stuck to the wall and scaled it in moments as one of the toads she had maimed fearfully scrambled out of her way. Yunan got to the top and put one of Sasha's arms over her shoulder. That her apprentice made no complaint or snarky comment only underscored how exhausted she was.

Yunan kept her head on a swivel, ready for any call for attack if the toads changed their minds. However, they were mostly focused on retrieving the toads that had been thrown into the pit, though more than a few wary glances were sent towards Yunan and Sasha as they made their exit. They made it over the low hill and Yunan took on more and more of Sasha's weight as they began the long hike to the snail she had to leave behind after entering this wasteland.

After they had walked for a while Yunan noticed that Sasha kept looking down to the right at nothing and then up to Yunan with an inscrutable expression. After the fourth time, Yunan decided to address it. "Something on your mind, Waybright?"

Sasha looked concerned and then leaned closer to Yunan to whisper, "who is this guy? Was he like a guide or-"

"What 'guy' captain?" Yunan asked, quickly scanning her surroundings. Were they being followed?

"The toad." Sasha tried to explain. "Green? Has horns? Been walking with us since you picked me up?"

"... captain, where do you see this toad?"

"He's right the-" Sasha gestured and looked towards the place she had been glancing at but stopped mid-explanation. She turned and looked all around them, almost tripping both of them up. Not seeming to find what she was looking for, Yunan could feel a tremble from her protege.

"... Let's keep walking, Waybright." Yunan suggested neutrally and after a moment Sasha silently agreed, refocusing on moving forward.

For a time, they walked in silence. All the while Sasha slowly grew more confident in her stride, much to Yunan's relief, though she didn't reject Yunan's support.

Then Sasha broke the silence again. "Man, I guess you tracked down Hopediah pretty quick if you were able to make it out here so quick."

"... No. I would have been much too late if I had chased after him. I delegated that task to the soldiers we brought with us to the valley. Haven't been able to check in on their progress."

"... but what about the mission?" The question wasn't in admonishment, but genuine confusion.

Yunan sighed. "When I put together what Grime had done, you became the priority. I couldn't trust others to do it right," she explained simply. Yunan felt Sasha tremble again, and she dutifully ignored the tears that started to drip to the ground as they continued to walk, Yunan shouldering Sasha’s weight the whole way.

"You're sure about this? I'm not exactly a professional," Yunan warned.

Sasha sat in front of her, on the ground, while Yunan sat behind her on a small boulder. After walking for god knows how long they had finally boarded an old snail the general had commandeered from the valley. They decided to set up a light camp there for the night. The sun was starting its descent in the west, but Yunan had plenty of light to work with. "Yes, please, I'm not going anywhere with my hair like this. Just... try to get things even," Sasha requested. She flinched a bit hearing the bladed gauntlet, but she had seen Yunan do far more complicated things than cutting hair.

"So, if you're up for it..." Yunan said, running her fingers through the tangled hair. "I am curious about what happened after I was knocked out."

Sasha nodded and told her just about everything. Marcy using Yunan as a leverage against Sasha and then neutralizing her with the powder. Grime’s betrayal, followed by the mostly monotonous weeks of being stuck in a cage like an animal, then the events of the last few days. Being forced to take up the toads’ challenge. More travel. Being forced to kill a giant worm. Ending with her fight with Grime.

As she came to the end of her retelling, Yunan said, tone frustrated, "I am sorry I could not come to your aid sooner..."

Sasha thought back to the moment before Yunan arrived and took a slow breath to avoid shuddering. "...You did plenty, Yunan, trust me."

They were quiet while Yunan finished her work, nicking off the last few loose strands. "Alright," Yunan said, leaning back to admire her work, "what do you think?" Yunan held out a polished and shiny dagger and Sasha took it.

She angled it to get as good a look at her hair was possible. It was short; Grimes sword had come perilously close to scalping her on that swing. It would just take a little while for things to grow back. "Looks good. Thanks, General," Sasha said, handing back the knife.

"It appears this is yet another skill to add to my repertoire," Yunan boasted. She stood up. "I'll go find us proper meat to enjoy tonight." Sasha moved to stand up, fresh bruises protesting. Yunan put a hand on her shoulder and held her in place. "Rest for today, captain. I can handle this."

Some part of Sasha wanted to argue, but it sure wasn't her muscles. She let herself sit back down, back against the boulder, and nodded to the general. Yunan stalked out into the tall grass that ringed around their campsite, barely making a sound as she disappeared from sight.

As Sasha leaned back against the rock, she realized that for the first time in weeks she was alone with her thoughts. No immediate plan to escape, no task to complete, no training to do. No responsibilities. She looked up into the night sky. There wasn’t a cloud to be seen, and the countless stars shone beautifully. Sasha had never known much about the stars back home, but throughout her travels with Yunan, she’d learned to appreciate Amphibia’s night sky.

Without another place for it to wander, Sasha's mind eventually thought of Anne and Marcy. The two of them turning their backs and walking away from her. Her heart ached remembering Marcy's apologetic face as she said goodbye. Anne's pained wince, holding her hand against the rib Sasha had hit. A lump formed in her throat as she wondered if either of them had thought of her in the past few weeks, or if the two of them were happier without her.

Then as she looked up, she saw something flicker at the edge of her vision up above. She focused on the pale gray dot that seemed to be growing larger. After a moment, the dive bombing paper airplane collided directly with her forehead, and Sasha instinctually slapped it away in surprise. She sat up, startled, and looked over at the paper airplane. Her mind tried to come up with an explanation for its appearance, but as the bent pieces of paper slowly creased themselves back into place, its wings flapped up on their own and faced Sasha. It hopped towards her and into her lap. She could see bits of writing hidden in the folds. and Sasha was reminded of the little animated bird Marcy had sent when she caught her two friends fleeing through the mountain pass.

In the distance, Sasha heard Yunan call out in triumph, which signaled she would be back soon.

Sasha held the airplane in hand. She considered taking the plane in hand, crushing it and tossing it into the fire. However, her hands shook as she tried to put the plan into action. Instead she gently unfolded the animated paper airplane to read the letter properly.

Sasha,

First of all, I'm sorry. I've tested that powder on myself and I know how freaky it can feel. I don't regret protecting Hop Pop, but I hated having to use it on you.

I saw that the updated bounty poster didn't include me? I guess you're still trying to protect me which I appreciate, I thought for sure you would have hated me. Even so, please don't let them hurt Hop Pop for what I did. I know it probably sounds weird to you, since it's only been a few months, but I really think of the Plantars as family...

Sasha's concentration was broken from the letter as Yunan walked back in, dragging a slain giant centipede behind her. "Haha! We won't have to hunt the whole way back to Newtopia!" she declared proudly as she set about trimming off all the legs.

"Yunan, did you update the bounties before you left the valley?"

Yunan paused in her work, looking contemplative. "Hm. No, I suppose it slipped my mind in my haste." Sasha gave her a gently mocking raised brow to which Yunan replied defensively, "listen, I usually chase bounties, I don’t issue them. All the more reason for us to get back to Newtopia quickly."

Sasha rolled her eyes and smiled fondly at the general. Then frowned in thought, looking back to the letter, reading over the last line to find her place.

...I'd rather face punishment than see any of them hurt for my sake. Though if you could use your influence to make that punishment less fatal, I'd appreciate it. Not that I think you owe me a favor or anything. Just if you're trying to protect me, that's how I would prefer it.

I probably won't send any more of these. You're smart enough to put a subordinate on watch for them now, and use that to track us down. I can't really say good luck, since you're hunting us down and all, but I hope you're doing well Sash. This has been such a mess.

-Marcy

P.S. I hope Ms. Yunan is okay.

Sasha looked at the end of the letter and sighed. She flipped it over front and back. Not even a note from Anne. She must have been really pissed if she didn't even leave a note.

Sasha thought back to their fight and let out a reluctant sigh. She was a big enough person to admit that she may have been hasty in disregarding Marcy's attachment to those frogs. If it took burning some of her influence to save Marcy and get her back on her side, then it'd be worth it. Then she could lean on Marcy to get Anne to let all of this go. Ultimately the most important thing was for the three of them to get back on the same page.

Hell, with Grime's actions against her, and Yunan as witness, she might be able to spin this so he took the fall for everything. It also had the added benefit of letting her come clean to Yunan about Hopediah being innocent. Which would be a good thing because... because...

Well, it would make things simpler. Less lies meant less things to keep track of. "Hey Yunan? There's something I left out earlier..."

Chapter 5: ARGH We There Yet?

Chapter Text

"I like you too, Mar-Mar...."

Marcy felt a warm flutter in her chest as she looked into the warm brown eyes of her childhood friend. A swarm of fireflies fluttered around them, casting a hypnotic array of lights around them. Greens, pinks and blues that should’ve been impossible for regular fireflies bathing the scene around them in a hazy light. She and Anne sat alone on a bench in the midst of Marcy's lush garden. Plants flowering all around them. It was a beautiful moment.

Marcy ran her thumb over Anne's affectionately and everything felt so good for once in her life; it felt like things were going to plan.

"And... you're really okay with me?" Marcy asked without the hesitation or worry it had the first time she asked it. Because Marcy could... feel what was supposed to happen next. Precognitive in a way you only really got to be in dreams.

Sure enough, Anne smiled at her with adoration and silently reached up to cup the side of her face. Marcy leaned into the touch, letting her eyes close to drink in the feeling. Then just as Marcy knew she would, Anne gently pushed aside her bangs with her thumb to get a better look at Marcy's scar. Next she should lean up and gently kiss that scar and assure her that she was more than okay, Marcy. Her heart fluttered with anticipation and delight.

But it didn't quite happen, and a worried knot in Marcy's stomach signaled the deep unnerving feeling that something was wrong in dreamland.

Marcy cautiously opened her eyes. Anne's expression was one of deep consideration of Marcy's question, one that grew less favorable by the second. Her hand retreated from Marcy as if she had just noticed for the first time that it had been touching something filthy.

All around them the fireflies were winking out one after another, until the only light left was from the cracked glowstone necklace Marcy had gifted Anne. It flickered like a dying lightbulb.

Marcy's heart started to break to pieces as the look in Anne's eyes started to settle into disappointment. "Oh..." she said, clearly thinking better of her earlier declaration.

Before Marcy could say anything, the necklace flickered off completely leaving Marcy in darkness.

Marcy awoke from the nightmare to the predawn gloom that filtered in from the closed windows. Tears filled her eyes and she clenched them shut against what felt like a hole in her chest. She pressed her palms against her eyes as the tears spilled over. She took slow, practiced breaths to repress the sobs building in her chest. She didn’t want to wake anyone up for this. It took a few minutes, but she managed to get back to a workable baseline.

She felt the familiar weariness of insomnia but had no desire to fall back asleep. Instead she decided to get some of her morning chores out of the way. After all, she had a busy day ahead of her.

Marcy tilted her center of gravity until she could slip out of the hammock and onto the floor of the fwagon, taking care not to make too much noise. Sprig and Polly were sprawled out on the fwagon’s main bed. Hop Pop, meanwhile, was sleeping in a particularly well cushioned wardrobe. An unfortunate precaution while they were parked in town.

Marcy took one more deep breath to center herself before she started her morning chores.

She did her favorite chores first; she had plants, pets, and plant-pets to feed. Marcy grabbed some leftovers from the night before and scraped them into Zappy's cage, where the little centipede went to work enjoying their breakfast, distracting them long enough for Marcy to check that her electrical devices were all charged. Next was Petey, who she fed and petted in equal measure. Her newest addition, a small jar of moss, sat next to the tomato plant. A layer of pebbles and rocks lined the bottom of the glass jar, with a blanket of magic moss growing at the bottom of it. It seemed to be pretty healthy; a few little yellow flowers were budding from it. Marcy used the small spray bottle she had cobbled together to gently mist the moss as she'd done the last few mornings.

She bustled into the fwagon’s kitchenette, catching her toe on a barrel of pain peppers and barely containing her strained hiss of pain. Her eyes instinctively darted to Polly, who seemed oblivious to the ruckus. She let out a soft sigh of relief and then resumed her chores.

She put together a plate of cabbage for the rabbicoons to enjoy. The mother didn't like Marcy handing them the food directly, so she'd taken to precariously balancing a bowl on a crossbeam. Last, but certainly not least, was Bessie, who Marcy had shrunk down to the size of a rabbicoon. Bessie had been pretty perturbed by the change at first, but had adjusted well. Marcy had foraged a number of cave mushrooms from near the shore for her as a treat for being so agreeable.

Marcy grabbed a basket and went outside into the sea salt air to pull down the Plantars’ drying laundry. The sleepy fishing town they had found themselves in was already awake. Some of the frogs and newts waved to Marcy as they headed to their boats. Marcy waved back before collecting the clothes. Marcy carefully folded everything up, slipping into her fresh sweatshirt with relish. It was still a little damp, but that was inevitable, considering how chill and humid the air was in this region.

Marcy looked out over the Great Bay, but all she could see was the fishing boats disappearing into the thick, ever-present fog. Marcy turned and took a moment to examine the fwagon. A grateful little family of axolotls had helped Marcy modify the fwagon for the next leg of the journey. They had built out a deck and hull around the main cabin of the fwagon, the bottom of which ended above the wheels. The vehicle was now effectively amphibious. It wouldn't stand up to rough seas, but Marcy had read that the Great Bay was notoriously calm. After their detour to Gardington the searching parties were almost certainly ahead of them on the main road. They probably wouldn’t expect them to take this route, for a number of reasons. Satisfied with her inspection, she brought the basket of clothes back inside.

She did a quick inventory of her alchemy supplies. A single shrinking curse remained for emergency use; a fancy brown tinted bottle that Marcy suspected once contained liquor, though Hop Pop denied it, that was now filled with health potion; and finally, a few dozen freshly alchemized boil beads .

There were other chores to do, but none she could manage without waking up her family. So instead she slipped into the booth with her journal and flipped it open to the most recent page, which detailed her family's close call with the cult of Gardington. She flipped the page over to add to it.

Marcy picked up her mechanical pencil, clicking out the lead and placing it over the top of the page. Her hand trembled for a moment. She paused, took a deep breath, and then started to write with a steadier hand.

Hey Anne!

Been a little under a week since I finished the front half of this letter (flip this around if you're reading this first!). We found our way to a little seaside town on the coast. It's mostly frogs here, but there are a few newts and an adorable family of axolotls. We've been here for a few days preparing for the next leg of our trip.

When we first arrived everyone was pretty sick, so much so they were trying to wave us on to go to the next town. However, after talking with a couple of people I figured out it was something called Rot Leg, an Amphibian version of scurvy. Apparently a lot of their produce was stolen by bandits earlier this year, so they've been living off salted fish for months. It was looking pretty grim for some of the folks here but I had an idea! We had an old lemon from the valley and I used the seeds from that and my new plant magic to grow a lemon tree! You weren't kidding about how easy it is to go overboard.

Now everyone's on the mend and Barney (the patriarch of that family of axolotls) offered to help me modify and fix up the fwagon. He and his two daughters are shipbuilders for the town and now the fwagon is a fwaboat!

Wherever you are, I hope you are doing well Anna Banana.

-Marcy

Marcy carefully ripped out the page, folded it up into a paper airplane, dripped a dose of golem potion on it, and sent it away.

"Well, I wish you all luck." Barney, the elderly axolotl, assured. He wore a pocketed apron, outfitted with various carpentry tools. He had a long white beard that had been tied neatly into braids. "Still don't know how that... thing you placed on the stern is gonna get it to move with no sails."

Marcy gripped the doorframe to steady herself against the gentle sway of the fwagon and looked towards the rear of the converted vessel. Attached to the back was a large paddle wheel she and Polly had spent the last few days working on. It was connected to her newest bit of magi-tech.

Before Marcy could attempt to explain the mechanics again, Sprig jumped in. "Don't worry, if it's one of Marcy's inventions it’ll work great. Maybe even too good."

"Plus I helped on it." Polly said, puffing out her chin.

Barney nodded. “Well, I suppose you know what you're on about. Between you helping the town recover and your friend chasing off those bandits, you... hoo-mans are a-okay in my book. No matter how weird you look. Such a shame you couldn't have been here a month ago, she was pretty keen on finding you and the other one."

Marcy nodded, feeling a little lance of guilt at how she had left things with Sasha. "Well that's why we're trying to head to Newtopia," she lied, "to see if we can meet up."

Barney nodded, rummaging into one of his pockets for a sheaf of rolled up papers. "Well, be careful. There are all sorts of dangerous types out on the sea, not to mention the monsters." He held out the papers and Marcy took them.

They were wanted posters, mostly for pirates, but the one that caught her eye was for Hop Pop. The picture was mostly accurate save for the nefarious furrowed brow and razor sharp teeth. Marcy did her best to not react to it. “Thanks. We'll be careful,” she promised. They said goodbye to the old shipwright who jumped off the deck and started to swim to shore. Once he was gone, Marcy walked over to the wardrobe and did the secret knock they had agreed upon. "You're good to come out, Hop Pop."

Hop Pop did so, groaning as he stretched out his body. "I wish I had gotten a chance to talk to him. Seemed like an upright sort of man." He leaned back and an audible pop could be heard from his back. "Wish I didn't have to stay hidden the whole time."

Marcy nodded in sympathy, remembering how it felt to have to hide at the Plantar house when she had first arrived in Wartwood, "Well, it was caution well earned,” Marcy said, handing him the wanted poster.

He took the poster, looking down at it with a disgruntled expression. "Well that's just distasteful." He rolled the paper back up so he didn't have to look at it. A cat sized Bessie came up alongside Hop Pop and purred against his leg. He looked down at the family snail and picked her up, clearly viewing the chance to snuggle with his trusted companion as a silver lining to this plan.

Marcy smiled fondly at the sight of the old farmer with his snail. "Alright, well let's get moving. Sprig, go up and handle the wheel like I showed you while I get the engine started down here,” she said, directing him up towards the roof. Sprig saluted like a good first mate and then hopped up the stairs. Marcy moved towards the back of the ship where her latest piece of magi-tech awaited. Built into the fwagon’s stern was a large wine cask, glinting with the metallic sheen of transmuted ironwood.

“So…” Hop Pop drawled, looking skeptically at the cask. “How’s this gonna move the fwagon?”

Marcy smiled and held a finger up, "Well you see, this holds water and-"

"Oh! Oh! Can I explain?" Polly asked excitedly. Marcy grinned and gestured for her to continue. "So basically we're going to make a whole bunch of steam in this cask, and it moves around the machinery we have on the back. The pistons move from side to side thanks to the steam pushing it up and down! Then that moves those long wooden struts in a circle, and all that energy starts to move the giant paddle wheel on the back. Then that displaces enough water to move the fwagon!"

"Uh... huh." Hop Pop said, clearly having trouble wrapping his mind around it. "So, steam? Like, you mean magic steam or...?"

"Marcy says it's just normal steam," Polly shrugged. "Like from a kettle, but pressurized a whole bunch so it's strong enough to move machinery!"

"Okay, so how are we going to boil the water? We can't exactly boil the whole sea..." He paused, before looking at Marcy with concern. "...Can ya?"

"No,” Marcy confirmed. "On Earth, we'd need a furnace in here to boil the water, and we’d need to lug around a bunch of wood or coal to power it." She walked over to her alchemy cabinet and pulled out a small velvet pouch. “Fortunately,” she retrieved a glossy red boil bead and held it up proudly as she continued, “we can cheat.”

Marcy sat cross-legged on a pillow placed just behind the ship’s wheel that was now installed towards the back of the fwagon’s roof. The steady puttering of the steam engine below filled her with a satisfied sense of pride.

Hop Pop opted to stay inside the cabin to read a book and keep an eye on the steam engine, ready to toss in fresh boil beads when necessary. Sprig sat in the fwagon’s driver’s seat, taking the opportunity to fish off the side of the converted boat; he had his hat pushed down over his eyes, and the bucket next to him already had a few fish in it. Polly was right next to Marcy, fiddling with an invention of her very own design.

Marcy was really proud of her sister. The other day, they had discovered the boiled vapor of an air potion was ridiculously buoyant. Marcy had tripped and dropped a potion into the cooking fire and after a few moments it lifted straight up into the air. A few mornings later, Polly, with no other input from Marcy, asked for advice on her design: a hot air balloon to serve as an eye in the sky on their travels. It used her signature bucket as a basket with some stitched together blankets acting as the balloon.

"Okay, I think it's all ready, time for a test run!" Polly announced, hopping into her bucket and getting a boil bead shard ready to stick into the modified bottle Marcy had prepared for her.

"It sure is!" Marcy said before reaching over and gingerly plucking Polly out of the bucket and depositing her on the roof of the fwagon. "And test flights are unmanned."

"Ugh, fine. But don't we need a counter weight?"

A solid point. Marcy called down into the fwagon. "Hey, Hop Pop, could you bring up a melon of some kind?"

"Watermelon or cantaloupe?" came back without hesitation.

"Cantaloupe, I think. Whatever's closer to Polly's weight!" Marcy responded. After the sound of some rooting around, Hop Pop held out a cantaloupe from the hatch in the roof, handing it off and sitting at the top of the stairs, curious about what this was all about.

Polly took it to strap into the bucket in her place. "Still think this is unnecessary,” she grumbled, "now can we test it already?" Marcy gestured for her to go ahead. The potion of air that was to act as the lifting agent was housed in a two-necked beaker, modified by Marcy so that a boil bead could be loaded into the side without causing the potion to evaporate on contact with the air. The valve on top had been modified so that at a certain pressure it would release the boiled vapor up into the balloon at a steady rate, allowing for sustained flight. Or at least, that was the intent.

Instead, when the boil bead made contact with the potion, the reaction happened all at once. The potion bottle let out a high pitched whine, like a tea kettle, as it shot up into the balloon it was supposed to be filling with air; the entire contraption rocketed upward into the sky, reached the end of its tether, and then careened in a wild arc over the side of the fwagon to crash into the water below.

The Plantars all watched the display and then looked at Polly, who shrugged, unconcerned. "So, there are some bugs to work out..."

Hop Pop shot Marcy a grateful look before descending the stairs again. Sprig sprang to his feet to help Polly pull her device out of the bay.

As Marcy kept a watchful eye on her younger siblings, she spotted the silhouette of a ship emerging from the surrounding fog. She reached over and tapped Sprig on the shoulder. He glanced back at her, then up at the ship as it started to pull up alongside the fwagon. “Go down and help Hop Pop hide,” she whispered. Sprig nodded and hopped to the top of the stairs, then dropped down into the cabin. Marcy pulled Polly tightly against her side and interposed herself between the oncoming ship and the pollywog.

Through the mist, Marcy could make out what looked like a small 18th century warship, which she would charitably describe as ‘well-loved.’ She thought it would probably qualify as sixth rate; it had no cannons mounted, but there was a massive ballista mounted on a swivel at the ship’s bow. There were holes in the sides of the ship for oars, though at the moment there were three masts running full sail with a favorable wind. It made Marcy nervous; a warship probably meant the navy. Or worse.

Marcy could hear the noisy chatter of sailors at work, but the ship’s deck rested well above the top of the fwagon, and all Marcy could make out were newts crawling around in the rigging above.

An axolotl came up to the side. She wore a heavy naval coat along with a tricorn that had been modified to allow her frilled horns to poke through. From her outfit, Marcy guessed she was an officer, though she didn’t know how naval ranks worked here. The axolotl exuded calm confidence as she hopped up onto the ship’s railing. "Ahoy there!" she called out in a gravelly voice. "Don't think I've seen you lot out on the Bay before."

"Yeah!" Marcy called back in what she hoped was a casual voice. "Just on a family trip to Newtopia." Marcy considered their chances of escape if it came down to it. Stuffing more boil beads into the engine might allow them to outpace them, especially if they could move out of favorable winds. Her eyes however flashed to the mounted ballista. The shot was loaded and she could see a rope attaching the back of the bolt to a winch on the ship’s bow. If they scored a hit then the fwagon wouldn’t be going anywhere. Best to act natural.

"I see... quite the vessel you got there. Am I imagining those wheels beneath the water? Does that thing sail the highways as well?" the axolotl questioned innocently.

Marcy was glad they were focusing on something other than their intentions out here and obliged. “It does! Can ford a river and roll right up onto the bank."

"No sails either, that thing on the back looks like somethin' out of the Newtopian factories, "she commented, looking back at the steam engine and paddlewheel. "This thing is as fast as my ship at full sail."

"Yep! It's a steam engine. Designed and rigged it up myself!"

"Hey!" Polly objected.

"Oh, Polly was a huge help in getting it all working right,” Marcy added, not meaning to deny her sister the credit she was due. "Best assistant I could ask for."

"I imagine selling that thing would net you a pretty farthing." the captain complimented with a sly grin.

"Oh, uh, thanks I guess. We're not really looking to sell it," Marcy said with a strained smile.

"That's fine!" the captain assured, snapping her fingers. On command a dozen frogs, toads and newts popped up from where they had been hiding, holding crossbows and aiming down at the cart. "We're not looking to buy..." she grinned, showing a copper tooth.

Marcy frowned looking around at all the shining bits at the end of the crossbow bolts. "... ah frog…"

One of the baby rabbicoons was sitting in their hidden nest, nuzzling up against his mother. She had not taken well to the weird salty air and the giants they had been living with hadn't noticed yet. He had tried to get their attention but they had seemed too busy to notice. They had been mostly on the roof, where their mother had forbidden them. The pink boy giant was in the hold and looked nervous as loud thuds echoed against the roof.

He panicked for a few moments before he grabbed a cloth bag from the biggest giant's smelly desk and threw it at the oldest giant. Then the oldest giant wasn't so giant anymore, smaller than even the baby rabbicoon himself! Young boy giant then grabbed his elder and stuffed him under his hat just before a bunch of unfamiliar giants came storming inside. One grabbed the boy giant while the others started to ransack the cabin, taking most of the nice giant's things.

The baby rabbicoon kept his siblings calm as they stomped about, not wanting to draw the attention of these bad giants. He was the oldest and needed to keep the others calm in his mother’s place. After a while, the bad giants had all left with many things and the baby rabbicoon ventured to the top of the stairs to brave a look outside. The first thing he noticed was that the big wooden island his family had been traveling in was now being dragged along by an even bigger wooden island. The second thing he noticed was a truly massive snake at the edge of the thick fog in the distance. Bigger than either of the wooden islands.

The baby rabbicoon fled back downstairs, to snuggle up safe with its mother and try to forget about what it saw.

Soon enough Sprig, Polly, and Marcy were brought on board. Sprig and Marcy had their arms and legs thoroughly bound with rope. Polly, meanwhile, was tied to Marcy's ropes with a string. They were tossed against one of the masts of the ship, while most of their worldly possessions were sifted through. The good news was that most of the family heirlooms they had weren't too expensive. The bad news was, of course, that they were now sailing due west and away from Newtopia.

The crew was fairly diverse. Frogs, newts, toads, and axolotl’s all worked together to steal from her family. There was little in the way of a uniform aside from a red band of cloth that each crew member wore in a different way.

For the moment they weren't being closely observed, so Marcy looked down to her siblings and whispered, "Are you two alright?"

Sprig nodded, putting on a brave face. "I'm okay... these ropes are kind of itchy though."

"Been better." Polly added.

"Sprig... where is Hop Pop hiding?" He hadn't been brought up on deck yet.

"I'm right here Marcy." Hop Pop, who was now the size of a beetle, lifted up a corner of Sprig's hat and waved. "Sprig shrunk me down and hid me just in time," he explained, dropping the cap back down before anyone could see him.

Marcy wasn't sure how to answer him, but didn't have time as the captain of the ship, the smarmy axolotl from before, sauntered up. "Well, most of your belongings ain't nothing much to look at. Still, I wasn't kidding about that ship, for all its shabbiness it's quite the marvel,” she remarked.

"Thank you?" Marcy said, unclear on how she was supposed to act in this situation. “You're weirdly friendly for someone who's currently stealing from us.”

"Well this isn’t personal, just business." the captain said with a toothy grin. She tipped her hat and gave a formal looking bow. "Dia Mond, Captain of the Croaking Daughter as my mother before me. Pirate extraordinaire."

"Marcy... these two are my siblings, Sprig and Polly." Marcy was prepared to elaborate, but the captain either didn't question it or didn't care.

"Well then, I'm supposin' you're wondering what's going to happen to you, eh?" she asked, still shorter than Marcy was sitting down.

Marcy nodded, putting on a brave face. Around them the other members of the crew who had finished with their looting started to gather around.

"Well, seein' as you gave up without a fight, you have two options." The captain held up two fingers, placing a finger to each one as she counted. "One, you can join our crew. Two, you can walk the plank."

Marcy's face went pale. “You’d kill us!?"

At Marcy's outburst there were scandalized gasps from the swashbuckling rogues around them. The captain was quick to respond. "What? No! By the olm, we would untie you first and get you within sight of shore. You'd just have to swim a bit. Hardly a death sentence."

Ah, right, amphibians . Duh. "I... uh, can't breathe underwater..." Marcy informed her after a moment. "Not that strong a swimmer either." That didn't have anything to do with being human, Marcy just hadn't swam a great deal in general.

"Huh..." Dia nodded, considering that information. “Well, I suppose your choice is pretty clear then, huh!" she said, chuckling at Marcy’s pout. She then turned to Sprig and Polly, "How about you two, planning on staying?"

"I'd never leave Marcy behind!" Sprig announced defiantly. "She's family!" He leaned supportively against Marcy.

"Of course I want to be a pirate!" Polly answered as if it was obvious. She saw the side-eyes from her siblings and amended, "and, you know, the family thing too."

Captain Dia laughed, as did most of the crew. "Well then, welcome aboard!" The captain’s hand shot to the cutlass at her side, drawing it and slashing three precise, shining steel lines through the ropes. Before Marcy even had time to flinch, the ropes fell to the ground in pieces. She marveled at the display of swordsmanship as she stood up to stretch. Dia sheathed her blade with a co*cky flourish. "Now then. This ain't no nobleman's yacht, if you're gonna stay, you're gonna work. What can you manage?"

"I'm pretty handy with herbs, I could do some doctoring if that's something you need?" Marcy offered, gripping onto the rope that was tied to the mast to keep from toppling face first onto the deck.

"Perfect, the clinic’s been without a doctor for months," the captain agreed. "How about you?" she said, looking down at Sprig appraisingly.

"Well, I'm friendly, quick on my feet, and have an unbreakable spirit!" Sprig said, proudly pointing a thumb to himself.

"Alright. Cabin boy it is," the captain adjudicated.

"Awesome!" Sprig gave a thumbs up, then leaned up to Marcy once Dia had moved on. "Hey, Marce? What's a 'Cabin Boy'?"

The captain hummed, looking at Polly's eyepatch. “Well, you certainly came dressed for the job," the captain complimented. "I like the polka dots."

"Thanks!" Polly reached back and brushed back the ribbon-eyepatch like it was long flowing hair.

"Can't say I feel good about putting a tadpole to work, but I don't want any layabouts on the crew. Sets a bad precedent..." she rubbed at her chin. "I suppose I could have you peelin' potatoes or-"

"I am willing to enact incredible violence," Polly interrupted, raising a flipper.

Dia seemed stunned for a moment, but she quickly recovered, letting out a belly laugh. "I like the cut of your jib, Polka Dot. Steel Jaw! You're in charge of her!"

From the crowd, a toad emerged. His lower jaw was missing, replaced by what looked like half of a bear trap. His eyes were so sunken that it was impossible to make out his pupils. On his exposed arms and stomach, Marcy could see more scar tissue than untouched flesh. What wasn't scarred was covered in elaborate tattoos. Marcy looked at the gruff pirate with dismay, while Polly looked on in starry eyed awe.

Polly hopped up into his arms and he caught her with surprising care. "What am I gonna learn first? How to choke someone? How to fire one of those crossbows?” Polly had gripped the man's jaw as she posed the questions. “How to burn things?"”

The captain noticed the uneasy smile on Marcy’s face and assured, "Don't worry, Steel Jaw is great with kids."

Steel Jaw, still holding Polly in one massive paw, reached around to his belt and drew a cutting knife. He lifted it slowly before deftly flipping it around to offer the hilt to Polly.

"A knife?" Polly asked, sounding disappointed.

"Start with knife." Steel Jaw intoned. "Move up to ax."

Polly nodded in acceptance and gave the knife a few practice swings and accidentally slashed Steel Jaw's bicep. "Whoops. Sorry Steel Jaw."

Marcy tensed, but the stoic toad didn't even flinch at the wound. "Is fine. Why we practice,” he assured Polly. "First rule of violence. Only hurt who you intend to hurt." Polly nodded, chastened as Steel Jaw reclaimed the knife.

Marcy winced at the wound. "I have something that can close that up in the fwagon, if… uh…'' as she watched, Steel Jaw held the knife in the flame of a nearby torch until it glowed red hot, then pressed it to the wound with a quiet sizzling noise. Judging by the look of admiration on Polly’s face, this act only served to endear him to her further.

Satisfied with the arrangements, Dia turned back. "Alright, let me show you to your work, Doc. Got plenty of patients for you to look at." She gestured for Marcy to follow, but one of the sailors spoke up.

"Captain..." A tall lanky red newt with a peg leg stepped forward. "Are we sure we want to take them on with us?"

Dia stopped and slowly turned to face him. In stark contrast to the light hearted banter, the captain's voice suddenly filled with steel. "Are you challenging me, Maxwell?" her stance was relaxed, and her hand draped itself gently over the hilt of her sword.

"Just don't want us to be too hasty," Maxwell stated, hands held up and away from anything resembling a weapon. "The little ones, sure, no reason to leave them, but that one..." His eyes focused on Marcy, who felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach as other crewmen started to take in her alien features. "Never seen anything like 'em' before. Might be dangerous."

"She matches the description of Newtopia's newest little champion," offered a scowling frog. "Might be a spy for the kingdom. I mean, sitting helpless in the middle of the bay?" He spat to the side. "Suspicious." The crowd started to murmur distrustfully.

"That's not the half of it." said a young-looking toad. "I was drinking with a toad when we made port a few days ago. Haunted woman, fleeing the valley. Described something just like this," he pointed to Marcy, who reflexively started backing away, "said it slaughtered dozens of her fellows, summoning monsters with the flick of her wrist. She called her the Red Moon Witch..." he said distrustfully. The gathering crowd pressed closer, and Marcy felt her back bump into the ship’s railing. She shot a nervous glance at the water behind her.

The captain seemed to be having second thoughts and Marcy struggled to come up with some lie that might calm their superstitious hearts. Memories of that night flooded her mind, and she felt her focus slipping. She considered calling upon Ram just to buy her time, but hesitated. Her powers caused her eyes to glow green, which might only serve to dig her hole deeper.

Sprig seemed to sense her distress and jumped up on a nearby barrel. He put two fingers to his mouth and let out a high pitched whistle. The mob turned to face him, still muttering to one another. "Hey! Marcy isn't evil! Those toads from the tower were going to kill me and my friends and Marcy saved all of us! She's not a villain, she's a hero!"

The mood shifted, sounding more thoughtful, before Maxwell spoke again. "She fought against toads from the tower?"

"Yeah! They arrested her for no good reason! My friends and I broke her out but we were caught, Marcy was the one who made sure we all got out alive!"

The crowd turned back toward Marcy, who awkwardly waggled her fingers.

Captain Dia, feeling the wind shift, stepped up to leverage it. "Alright, you all heard him. Girl fought against a tower and apparently won. Hardly going to be loyal to the nobles. If you don't trust her then you don't need to bring your bleeding bodies down to the clinic, got it?" Most of the crew seemed satisfied, and the remaining few didn’t seem keen to argue. The crowd dispersed to do their daily work. Those that were off duty found places to congregate together out of the way of those who weren't.

"It's been a bit since we've had a doctor on board, Doc." Dia said, moving past the moment without comment. "Tell me, you have much experience with teeth? ‘Cause-"

“YeeeaaaoooOWWW!!” a scream ripped out from below decks as they approached the entrance to the hold.

Dia smirked back at Marcy. “Looks like you got your first patient.”

"Drink this." Marcy held out a small tin thimble full of the syrupy red health potion to the sniffling toad who had come to her little clinic room.

He drank it down and the dozens of painful looking punctures that wrapped around his whole body sealed. With the assistance of the newt who had brought the toad down to her clinic, Marcy wrapped the wound in gauze to hopefully prevent any of the puncture wounds from reopening.

Once she had finished, Marcy sat back down in her chair. She crossed one leg over the other. "Just to make sure I understand how this happened," she said, as she rubbed the bridge of her nose, "you thought that if you used bigger bait…" she looked meaningfully at her patient, "...you would catch bigger fish?"

The newt offered her a nervous smile. Marcy sighed.

On a calm afternoon, a dozen or so pirates relaxed above deck, with the entire middle of the ship cleared. Up near the ship’s wheel, next to a very annoyed helmsman, were a number of pirates whom the others were cheering with tin mugs raised high.

The first was Maxwell, who walked up to the banister on the upper deck of the ship. He put his hands on the wooden railing, stretched as far back as he could, swished the spittle in his mouth, and then shot forward, spitting across the deck. It made it just past the mainmast and the spectators cheered as one of them ran out to stab a knife to mark the distance.

The second was a midshipman, a gray axolotl with one of his six horns broken off. He took a running start and spat as hard as he could, but despite his best efforts, the shot only made it halfway between the mizzenmast and the main. The poor boy shrunk with embarrassment as a chorus of heckling sounded out from the crowd. He slunk off to the side, where his friends waited to console and mock him, in equal measure.

Finally, Steel Jaw stepped up to compete. The raucous onlookers quieted in confusion. He hadn’t been able to spit since he gained his namesake. Without a word, he placed Polly onto the banister. Confusion gave way to snickering and patronizing encouragement. The pollywog narrowed her eyes, reared back, and let out a noise that would be more at home emanating from a garbage disposal than any living thing. Then she spat across the deck and beat Maxwell's shot by a good five feet.

There was a moment of shocked silence before incredulous cheers sounded from the entire crew. Steel Jaw proudly raised the tadpole over his head as she basked in their praise.

"So, that's how it works huh? Just boiled steam?" Dia asked. She had invited Doc up to her private cabin to ask about the modified fwagon, and Doc had brought her journal to show her the blueprints she’d drawn up.

"Steam and machinery, yep," Doc confirmed with a shrug. “The beads are the only magic part really.”

Dia nodded. “Alright, thanks for indulging my curiosity. As a reward…” Dia reached beneath her desk and pulled out two items. The Plantar family tome and the family shrub.

Doc looked at the two items and reached out, picking up both items with care. She looked at Dia with some suspicion, but didn’t seem confident enough to voice it.

“Sentimentality doesn’t exactly sell for much,” she excused, “I’d rather not have my doctor bitter with me if I need something stitched up.” A knock came from the door, and Dia’s eyes snapped to glare at it. "What is it?"

A frog poked his head in, looking apologetic. "Sorry, captain, but we kind of need Doc? Aaron's finger got a little, uh… crushed."

Marcy looked at Dia questioningly and the captain nodded. Marcy closed her journal and followed the frog out. "So, how bad is-" was all Dia could make out before the door closed.

Once alone, the captain brought out some fresh parchment and started to replicate the important bits from the designs, already thinking of shipwrights who might be up to the challenge.

Sprig’s eye twitched as he watched his fiddle suffer in the hands of an amateur. Bud, The frog who’d claimed it, clumsily pulled the bow across the strings, letting out a near-continuous screech. From the looks on the faces of the other sailors, Sprig wasn’t the only one bothered.

Sprig was supposed to be on swabbing duty, but he was mostly just pushing water back and forth near the band. That fiddle had been passed down to him from his father, and he was furious to see it played so badly.

Bud played another sour note. He muttered something about the instrument being poorly tuned before he noticed Sprig staring at him. Bud squinted back in challenge. "You think you can do better?"

Sprig flinched as he felt Hop Pop tug at his hair from under his hat. "Just let it go, we can always get you another fiddle." Hop Pop's tone was stern, but understanding.

But Sprig refused to meekly sit aside. "Sure can! Catch!" Sprig tossed the mop up at the other frog. Bud instinctively dropped the bow and violin to protect his face. Sprig shot his tongue out to stick to the violin and snapped it back to his embrace. The sudden halt in the terrible music drew the attention of the other sailors on deck, who all looked on with amusem*nt. Bud, enraged, flung the mop aside, lurching at Sprig to reclaim his loot.

Sprig jumped above Bud’s outstretched hands and then bounced off the back of his head like a character in one of Marcy's games. Sprig landed where Bud had been standing and reclaimed the bow that had clattered to the ground. With his fiddle reclaimed, Sprig began to play a jaunty tune. The onlookers smiled as Sprig provided some proper music to the spectacle. Cheerful laughter sounded from the crowd as Sprig was chased by the now incensed Bud. As Sprig ran, hopped, and slid about the deck, he continued playing his fiddle, and the pirates all around them started to clap and stamp their feet in time with the tune. Bud was no slouch, but Sprig had been avoiding much faster and deadlier things for as long as he’d had legs.

As Sprig continued his song, one pirate pulled out a harmonica and joined in. Another that had gone below deck reemerged with an accordion and joined in with the cabin boy. Others improvised a sea shanty to the music. All the while, Sprig continued to evade his persistent pursuer.

As the song rose to a climax, Sprig leapt upon a stack of barrels to be his center stage and finished with a highly technical solo. He triumphantly raised his instrument high above his head as his chest rose and fell with exhilaration. Sprig was met with thunderous applause and raucous cheers. He started to drop into a dramatic bow, but was abruptly lifted up by the collar as Bud finally caught up with him. However, Sprig's capture was met with boos from onlookers.

"Aye, Bud, let the kid go!"

"Some of the best fiddle work I've heard in years!"

"Certainly the best we've heard tonight."

"Let the boy play!" one called, and their voice was soon joined by others.

"Let the boy play! Let The Boy Play!" the chorus of pirates chanted. Bud glared at Sprig but reluctantly dropped him and stalked off to the cheers of the crowd as a new song was started.

Bud headed towards the stairs, looking for somewhere to sulk; however, he was met by Steel Jaw, who impassively held up Sprig's discarded mop and stared down at the frog until Bud took it to start on the decks. Polly snickered at him from her perch on Steel Jaw’s shoulder.

"Alright, don't pick at it." Marcy instructed the newt, who was presently already picking at the bandage on her tail. "I won't re-bandage it if you pick it open again," she said more sternly. It was an empty threat, but it seemed to work. The newt froze and sheepishly looked up at Marcy before dropping her tail.

“Alright. Night, Doc.” She rose to her feet and started towards the door before stopping and gesturing at a plate sitting on Marcy’s desk. “You want me to take that?”

"It's fine." Marcy waved her off. The newt shrugged and left to find her hammock.

Marcy stood up and flipped the sign from 'open' to 'emergencies only' and closed the door for the night. She dropped the wooden security bar into place for good measure, and then collapsed back into her chair with a stretch. She felt an odd mixture of weariness and satisfaction.

As she wound down for the night, she looked around at her sleeping quarters. The clinic was a crowded room at the front of the ship, just below the manger. It had exactly two pieces of furniture. The first was a desk littered with Marcy's alchemy equipment. It had a number of drawers and cabinets overhead, and she had crammed Petey and Zappy into the space below it. The second was a bed for herself whom Bessie was sleeping beneath. A pair of hammocks hung above it for Sprig and Polly. It was late and both of her siblings were snoozing away, despite the recent company; they also had long and tiring days under their belts.

Despite Marcy's reservations about being pressed into the crew, Marcy could appreciate the accommodations that had been made for the three of them. Or technically, four of them.

Speaking of which, Marcy's attention was drawn up to the slow creak of a cabinet. Hop Pop peered out and looked from side to side before stage whispering, "coast clear?" Marcy nodded. He hopped out of the cabinet and onto Marcy's shoulder before making the jump down to the desk. Marcy reached over to the remnants of her dinner where she had strategically left a bit of bread, fish, and tomato.

Hop Pop made a relatively titanic sandwich with what remained and thanked Marcy kindly for the food.

Marcy had set up a little apartment in the cabinet for Hop Pop behind a wall of bottles. There was a little cotton ball bed and a thimble for a wash basin. She leaned her head down on the desk so the two of them could chat about their respective days for a little bit. Marcy talked about a few of the patients she’d had and Hop Pop filled her in on the trouble Sprig kept nearly getting into. Hop Pop had to shout for Marcy to hear him and Marcy had to whisper as to not deafen the old frog, but they made it work.

As Hop Pop finished his meal he looked contemplative, then worried, "Not that this isn't all comfortable, but do you have a plan here?"

Marcy furrowed her brow. "Not yet."

She had kept an eye on the stern gallery over the past few days. It was the best access they had to the fwagon, but Dia wasn't a fool. Someone was posted there at all hours, and they gave Marcy the stink eye whenever she hung about. She had sketched out plans with Ram for the possibility of causing some big distraction and then making a dash for it, but if they were caught Marcy had no doubt the consequences would be dire.

Marcy sighed, running her fingers through her hair. "Best I’ve come up with is waiting for some chaos and then making a run for the fwagon... worst case is waiting till we get to port and then seeing about parting ways then."

Hop Pop frowned, but nodded, lacking any better ideas.

"Are all of your weird patients gone?" Polly asked from behind them, rubbing at her swollen eye.

"Don't rub that," Marcy instructed in a whisper, "and shh, Sprig is-"

"But it itches!" Polly complained, but she did stop rubbing.

Sprig startled awake, almost flipping out of his hammock. "Huh? Wha’s happenin’?" He looked around blearily. "Sea monster?”

Marcy smiled wearily and shook her head. "Naw, everything's good, you can go back to sleep."

Polly nodded and leaned over the edge of her hammock to look down at Sprig. "Yeah, go back to sleep, we're having a mature conversation."

"Without me?" Sprig said, sending a faux hurt look at Marcy and Hop Pop.

"You two can both go to sleep," Hop Pop said, but his voice was drowned out by the siblings’ bickering. He looked up to Marcy for help. She nodded.

"I meant both of you can go back to sleep," Marcy clarified. She gave Polly a look.

"I don't know. Not feeling too sleepy anymore..." Sprig said with a shrug. "Though maybe if I had a story to occupy my thoughts..."

"Ha! Baby." Polly smirked down at her brother.

Sprig smirked right back. "You can go to sleep now if you're not-"

"Hey, if there's going to be a story, I'm not gonna not listen to it," Polly interrupted, "that'd just be rude ."

Marcy chuckled. This sort of exchange had become pretty common on the road. Hop Pop often told old fables and legends to the two. Marcy hadn't heard most of them back in the valley since her room was in the basem*nt, but she had gotten the chance to hear a few of them now on the road. Heroic ballads of frogs fighting for what was right, legends from a long forgotten past, plays Hop Pop knew by heart. It never failed to get the kids to sleep.

Marcy stood up to slip into her own bed, but she was interrupted by a light weight landing on her shoulder. She turned her head and saw Hop Pop standing there, rubbing at his throat. "Listen, would ya mind taking over for me tonight? Don’t think I can manage to shout for the length of a story… though I don’t think that would be wise anyway.” He glanced meaningfully at the door. He was right; most of the crew was asleep this time of night, but there were always some up and about.

Marcy nodded and lifted Hop Pop back up to the cabinet. She sat back down in her desk chair. "So, what kind of story do you want to hear tonight?" Polly and Sprig looked at her with confusion. She held a finger to her lips and then pointed towards the door. They nodded, catching on quickly.

"What do you got?" Polly asked with a shrug.

Marcy was wracking her brain for something appropriate. She had plenty of JRPG stories memorized, but that would be way too long for a bedtime story. There was The Little Hero, the War of the Warlocks prequel, but that would also take a few nights at best. Maybe a manga plot? Those could get pretty convoluted. Maybe if she narrowed it down to just one arc?

Sprig noticed her overthinking and took pity on her., "Do you have any cool legends from your world?"

Marcy's mind instantly jumped to mythology, which was... perfect. Lots of little tales to tell. Her mind jumped to one branch of mythology in particular, she had looked into it a lot ever since she found out how much it influenced a lot of her favorite games and stories. Marcy slipped into her game keeper voice. "How would you like to hear a tale of Odin? He's one of my favorites."

Polly and Sprig looked at each other and exchanged shrugs. “Sure, who was he?"

"King of the gods. Wise beyond measure, a scholar without peer, and seeker of magic in all its forms," Marcy said, as she prepared to lead them into a legend featuring the trickster god.

"Ha!" Polly chortled and threw Marcy off.

"What's funny?" Marcy asked, genuinely curious. Sprig looked up at Polly as well.

"What do you think, Sprig, he sounds kinda familiar, right?" Polly asked.

Realization dawned on Sprig's face and he snickered as well. "Oh yeah, definitely."

Marcy frowned, feeling a little put out. "What, do you all have some Amphibian equivalent?" It shouldn't surprise her at this point, there were a lot of inexplicable parallels between their worlds. However, this didn't seem to be one of them; Sprig shook his head.

"Not that I know of. Polly and I just realized why he's your favorite." Sprig explained.

It took Marcy a moment before it clicked. She felt her face warm with embarrassment, a little flustered by the comparison. "Oh, haha. Uh… thanks, I guess?" she said, before shaking her head. "Okay, but. Story time. This is the story of Odin and the well of Mimir..."

Bud clambered up the rigging of the Croaking Daughter on his way to the crows nest. It was his turn on night watch, and he was going to do it, even if that meant sniffling back a cold.

He found Maxwell, who looked bored and let out a long yawn. When he caught sight of Bud he bent his back almost ninety degrees back in a crackling stretch. "Finally. Nothing much to report. Pretty quiet night," Maxwell said, stepping out of the crows nest to crawl down the mainmast. "Keep warm up here, kid," Maxwell advised.

Bud nodded noncommittally and took his place in the crows nest. He started to nervously tap his foot. It was the second night of the full moon. He retrieved a perfume bottle from his vest and opened its cap, letting a distinct fragrance out into the misty night air.

After about an hour of waiting, the buzz of beating wings startled him alert and he sat up. A mosquito the size of his body landed next to Bud, attracted to the scent of the perfume. The frog grabbed the message that was attached to its harness. One hand held it up to read while he stretched the other out for the mosquito to drink its fill.

Preparations are made. Report your heading, speed, and time of return message.

Bud quickly penned his response. He knew all this would be used to track down the Croaking Daughter, and he could finally leave this life behind for a proper one in the navy.

He wrapped the message up tightly and, feeling a little light headed from blood loss, attached the message to the side of the messagesquito’s harness. He watched as it took off and buzzed into the distance. Infiltrating this crew had been a long assignment, and it was all going to pay off soon.

Chapter 6: Serpentine

Chapter Text

Marcy awoke with a yawn, blearily rubbing the sleep from her eyes. It was later than she was used to getting up, but the extra sleep didn’t do her much good. Being the only doctor on the ship meant she was always on call. Twice in the night she had been woken up to deal with minor injuries that she couldn't fully recall through the sleepy haze. Hopefully she hadn’t made any mistakes with either of them. She looked up at her siblings' hammocks; Sprig had already left, but Polly was still snoozing. Marcy got out of bed, slipped into her sweatshirt, and stumbled over to her work desk. It was mostly cluttered with medical potions and equipment, but there was one exception.

She had a small inconspicuous wooden box, filled with the ingredients for the medusa curse. It was the first curse of her own design. She'd already messed around plenty with alchemy of course, its principles weren't too different from chemistry’s once you understood it. Cursecraft had been harder to wrap her mind around. They leaned a lot harder on the symbolic power of their components. Maddie had been much better at them than Marcy.

Marcy felt a pang of guilt; she was still worried for the people of Wartwood they had left behind. The townsfolk had chosen to cover for them, which partially assuaged her fears, but they also might have regretted their decision if they heard the full story…

She hoped Ivy and Maddie were both safe. Nothing in her confrontation with Sasha or the wanted posters implied that they were on Newtopia's radar, but the whole town was occupied...

Marcy groaned and rested her elbows on the desk. She did not have the bandwidth to worry about this right now. Anything she could do to try to help Wartwood right now would probably just backfire and bring more unwanted attention to the town. If her gamble worked, then she’d have a chance to help out. Of course, for that insane plan to work, she needed to actually get off this ship and to Newtopia. She groaned again and rubbed at her eyes.

Right. Focus on things she can work on - like this curse. It had taken some trial and error, but it was nearly done. Rubble taken from an ancient ruin, long forgotten. Deadly venom taken from a dangerous foe, still living. Powdered, mixed, to be boiled in seawater. There was one last ingredient, and she was pretty sure she already had it, but she hesitated. She rationalized that if she was wrong then it would spoil the curse and turn the whole thing inert.

Of course, her real worry was that it would work...

Marcy spent a few moments trying to work up the nerve to add that ingredient before a sleepy voice called out from behind her. "M' hungry."

Marcy looked back to see Polly rubbing at her eyes, little flippers holding the edge of her hammock. "Good morning to you too."

"Yeah, sure, morning," Polly said, blinking to full wakefulness. "Still hungry."

Marcy chuckled. Even if they were captives on this ship, they still needed to eat. "Let's go see what the mess has to offer."

"It'll be better than whatever Hop Pop or you could make," Polly jabbed lightly as Marcy scooped her out of her hammock. "Oh, I had an idea of how we can wake up Frobo."

"I'm all ears," Marcy said, opening the door to the clinic and heading out towards the mess.

Hop Pop was exhausted. While there wasn't much to do while he was stuck underneath Sprig's hat all day, he had basically been holding on for dear life the entire time the boy was moving about. They had agreed that it was too dangerous for Hop Pop to be unshrunk, but that meant he would need to stick close to Sprig if the need arose. Apparently, because Sprig had been the one to curse him, Sprig had to be the one to cure him. So for now, all he could do was tag along.

"So there we were, on top of the wall, surrounded by toads on all sides... herons blocking our only way out."

At the moment Sprig was in the gallery regaling the crew with Marcy's exploits at the tower. It wasn't the first time, but he was really going in depth this time. It didn't sit right with Hop Pop, but Sprig wasn't in the business of listening to him these days.

"Oh! Marcy, Polly, good morning!" Sprig's voice called out excitedly. Hop Pop jumped over to the edge of Sprig's hat and peered out through the fabric. If he got close enough and strained his eyes, Hop Pop could see through the worn fabric. He could make out Marcy having just wandered into the mess with Polly in her arms. Polly quickly left to join Steel Jaw in the corner of the room. Marcy looked exhausted again, but she visibly brightened when she saw Sprig waving her down. "Hey Marcy, back at the tower, how many toads do you think were surrounding us?"

Hop Pop saw the girl's face falter for a moment, but she quickly schooled her expression into a strained smile. "I don't really remember," she said with a shrug.

"Well, anyways, Marcy pulled out these special seeds she prepared weeks before and tried to reason with the toad captain." Hop Pop watched as Marcy’s shoulders started to hunch, as she stood at the opening to the mess hall. "When he refused to listen to reason, she tossed them over the side of the wall and these vines started growing from the ground, grabbing some of the toads, and then the heads of the tomato plants-"

Hop Pop’s gaze followed Marcy as she made her way through the mess. She started serving herself from the communal stew pot, but her hands started to shake as Sprig recounted the details of that night to the crowd of enraptured rapscallions. She walked towards Sprig’s table, but hesitated and then rushed past it, towards the exit.

"Then, in a flash of her hands she- Oh, Marcy where are you going?" Sprig asked curiously.

Marcy glanced over her shoulder, barely slowing down. “Just gonna get a little air.” She quickly turned back and left the mess hall.

Sprig's audience looked quizzically back at him. "She's just humble about these things," Sprig answered with a shrug, "Now, where was I..."

Hop Pop scowled; he had been a tad hesitant about this whole thing, wanting to respect Marcy's wishes, but he couldn't stand idly by anymore. Hop Pop hopped back toward the tuft of hair Sprig had under his hat, and tugged on it three times to get his attention.

Sprig paused, then continued talking up Marcy's accomplishments. "So, the herons were on their way and..." Hop Pop shook his head, followed one strand of hair down to its root and then grasped it tightly. Leveraging all of his skills from years spent working on the farm, he pulled it out like a stubborn vegetable. "Ow!" Sprig said, and again paused. Hop Pop waited for the boy to excuse himself from the table but after a moment he just kept going. "and Marcy had this grappling hook, right? And we all-'' Hop Pop reached down and yanked another hair free. "Ow!!!" Sprig said again then chuckled nervously. "Sorry, could you excuse me? I've gotta go visit the little frog's room..." He slapped a hand on top of his hat to pin Hop Pop in place as he scurried out of the mess hall.

Dia Mond, captain of the Croaking Daughter, enjoyed the quiet of the early morning. Before the ship was awake, and before she had to be the ruthless leader of a motley crew of brigands. Early mornings at sea were special, her mother used to tell her. There was a crispness to the air that healed a wounded soul. The hag might have been a brute unlike any other, but she could wax poetic with the best of them. She often spent these mornings at the bow with Samual, her boatswain, who understood her desire for peace and was smart enough not to deny it to her. She carefully used her cutlass to skin an apple they had plundered off their latest prize, the funny little wagon.

The captain’s musings were interrupted by a commotion behind her. Her new doctor had stumbled out of the stairwell that led down into the ship and bumped into several passing crew. They looked ready to start something, but Doc quickly slipped past them, looking panicked. The crewmen grumbled to one another, but went about their business. Doc, on the other hand, found a nook underneath the stairs leading up to the poop deck, and quickly tucked herself out of anyone’s way. She sat and curled in on herself.

Dia took a moment to consider the strange creature who had joined her crew and hopped off the head of the ship's bow ram. She casually strolled to the stairs her medic was hiding beneath, tossing her apple up and catching it again.

Doc rocked gently back and forth and tapped out a pattern on the deck. Three knocks with the right hand followed by one knock with the left. Dia could see her mumbling quietly to herself, and strained her ears to make it out as she approached. "You did the right thing, you had no other choice. You did the right thing, you had no other choice..."

Dia wondered for a moment if Doc’s kid brother had maybe told a bit more truth than Dia had given him credit for.

The girl didn't notice Dia's approach as she struggled to get her breathing under control. Eventually she calmed enough to glance at the dirty, empty, and by the looks of it, recently spilled bowl of soup in her hands with a disappointed look. Dia even got close enough to hear the girl's stomach rumble in protest at the lost meal.

"Morning Doc..." Dia said, finally announcing her arrival. The girl looked up, startled, as Dia offered her the peeled apple. "Copper for your thoughts?"

Hop Pop heard Sprig open and close a few doors before entering one and pulling off his cap to pluck Hop Pop from the top of his head. "What's the big idea, Hop Pop? Are you trying to make me bald?" Sprig accused in a whisper. "Jealousy isn't a good look on you."

Hop Pop let that crack slide as he took a moment to recover from the disorientation. He looked around; Sprig had found them a little supply closet, filled with coils of rope, spare sail cloth, and other assorted sundries useful to the ship. "Sorry Sprig, but we have to talk," Hop Pop said, looking up at his grandson, who truly seemed titanic thanks to their relative sizes.

Sprig narrowed his eyes. "Is this about Marcy?"

Hop Pop frowned, knowing this point was usually when the conversation would break down completely. He nodded anyway, "It is, Sprig. You’ve got to stop telling that story, especially around Marcy."

A familiar, stubborn expression hardened Sprig’s features. "I don't want to hear it. Marcy's a hero! She saved my life, and yours!" he said, as though Hop Pop had forgotten.

Hop Pop grimaced, remembering with crystal clarity the mental image of his eldest granddaughter’s hand impaled by General Yunan’s blades, mere inches from his own neck. "I agree, Sprig. She is."

Sprig opened his mouth to contradict him out of habit, but couldn't find any fault with his grandfather’s words.

"Sprig. Please. What I have to say is for Marcy's benefit." Hop Pop kept his voice level. "If you disagree you can just... stick me in a jar for the rest of the trip to Newtopia."

Sprig looked unsure, but ultimately nodded, though he still looked guarded.

Hop Pop sighed, happy to have at least this toe hold onto the conversation. He settled on the words he had thought through weeks ago. "Sprig. Do you think your sister likes hurting people?"

Sprig thought for a moment. "Well, Polly sure does seem excited to learn," Sprig reasoned.

Hop Pop shook his head, exasperated. "Your older sister, Sprig," he elaborated, fighting to keep his voice calm.

"Oh, no, of course not!" Sprig said, looking ready to defend Marcy again.

"I agree. Now let me ask you this. With that in mind... Do you think what happened that night at Toad Tower is a happy memory for her?"

Dia poured herself a splash of fire newt whiskey from a small, secure cabinet of bottles in her captain's quarters. Doc was sitting behind her in one of the plump cushioned seats, nibbling on the apple Dia had offered. Doc hadn't talked much yet, but that was fine. Dia was patient, and didn't have much to do that morning.

As the good doctor finished her breakfast she held the apple core, plucking out seeds and awkwardly looking about. "Is there anywhere to throw this away, or…?" Dia nodded and leaned her chair back. She opened one of the windows that faced out towards the water, letting in the fresh sea air. "Ah..." Marcy said. She stuck out her tongue, reared back, and hurled the apple core through the window, where it sank beneath the waves.

Dia watched the apple sail through the window, before closing it again. She turned her attention back to Doc. "Feeling a bit better, then?"

Marcy looked embarrassed, but nodded graciously. "Yes, thanks for your concern... and the accommodations," she said, breaking the silence. "It's been rather comfortable, all things considered."

"'All things considered'?" Dia chuckled. "In spite of the kidnapping, you mean?"

"Well, I was trying to be polite," she bantered back with a raised brow. "But yes... I recognize you could be a great deal less hospitable if you wanted to be."

Smart kid. Dia doubted she had her loyalty just yet, but that would come in time. "Well, sentimentality ain't worth much. I'd rather be on your good side if'n I'm ever in need of your skills." Dia shrugged. It was true enough.

Marcy nodded, grasping the logic quite easily. "Still..." she insisted.

"Well, then, you're welcome. Least I could do considering the circ*mstances. Though, if you wanted to repay me..." she flashed her copper tooth. "Would you terribly mind satisfying my curiosity?"

"Well, you have me at your mercy." Doc said, splaying out her hands helplessly.

"I was wondering... it was hard to tell, with how tall you are, but you're not that much older than your brother, are you?" Dia said, her tone edging into worry.

Doc took in a breath and nodded. "I'm thirteen, he's ten..."

Dia let out a sympathetic little sigh. "Now how did a kid as young as you end up burdened raising a frog and a tadpole all on your lonesome?"

Doc got a wistful look in her eyes. "It's more like they ended up adopting me, really. When I first arrived in Frog Valley, I was lost. Almost got myself killed eating a quick death shroom... Sprig stopped me, brought me back to his home, and welcomed me into his family without hesitation." Marcy said with a lopsided smile. "It's not easy, but it's a burden I'm happy to carry."

Dia leaned forward a bit, not looking quite as casual. She felt the crinkle of the wanted poster in her coat pocket, the one that matched the Plantar’s grandfather according to the family shrub they had found on board that queer little ship of theirs. "And they were on their lonesome when he found you?"

Sprig was taken aback by the question. His mind struggled to readjust. Marcy had done a good thing, why should she be unhappy about it? "I... but that- that's not the same!"

Hop Pop tilted his head. "How so?" he asked, encouraging him to speak his mind.

"They were going to hurt us! All of us!" Sprig argued.

Hop Pop nodded in agreement. "I know."

"Marcy tried to reason with- she didn't want to hurt anyone!"

"I'm sure she didn't."

"She didn't have a choice, Hop Pop!" Sprig said, hesitancy building into frustration.

Hop Pop nodded in agreement, offering no resistance.

Sprig's lip warbled in annoyance before stating. "Stop agreeing with me! You're wrong!" he said, clenching his fists at his side.

"Sprig, I've known Marcy for as long as you have. I know she's a good kid! I have no doubt that she thought through every possible way to get you four out of that horrible situation. I’m sure she saw no other way to protect all of you." Sprig softened at the words, looking less and less sure of his righteous anger. "... but that doesn't mean it didn't hurt her. Didn't have a cost. She did... lose something up on that wall." Hop Pop took in a slow breath, giving Sprig a moment to absorb that idea. "Do you remember how she was the days after you all got back?"

"...She was pretty quiet," Sprig admitted reluctantly. "B-but I mean, she did break her arm, so that's not surprising..."

"What about after her arm healed?" Hop Pop prompted.

"She was back to normal!" Sprig said, but he didn't sound convinced by his own words. He remembered how she had been wary of him coming to the Bizarre Bazaar. "I mean... she was a lot more careful with me and Polly but..." He grit his teeth and refused to give up. "B-but she just cares about us! We're family."

Hop Pop nodded. "I know. I care about her too, Sprig, please don't doubt that... I know she would do anything for us, even if it wound up hurting her. Remember when she tried to save the stand?" Sprig flinched at the memory. Marcy had pushed herself to the breaking point making those health potions. He also remembered it happening again when Hop Pop was away, when she tried to take on all the chores by herself so that he, Anne, and Polly could relax. He started to worry as he remembered the awkward smiles and answers Marcy had given him whenever he brought up Toad Tower.

"No, of course not... back in Wartwood they lived with their- our- grandfather..."

Dia nodded sympathetically. "Where is he now? Run out on you?" She injected some contempt into her tone, hoping to provoke a strong denial. Though if he actually had run out on them, she could speak more plainly.

"What? No, I..." Doc hesitated, looking up at Dia, studying her closely. Dia gave nothing away, maintaining a veneer of concerned interest. Marcy took a breath and slouched in her chair, stuffing her hands into that soft coat of hers... "I guess I can tell you, since we're on your ship and all... and you're probably going to find out one way or the other eventually."

Dia nodded encouragingly as she tilted her head to the side.

Hop Pop could see Sprig's expression start to cloud with doubt. He was getting through to him, but there was still one thing to account for.

Sprig bit his lip and narrowed his eyes one more time at Hop Pop. "But- You tried to steal the music box! You're scared of her!" Sprig argued.

The memory of that night returned to Hop Pop with force as well as the well of shame he felt over the attempted theft. "You're not wrong." He admitted. Sprig’s chest swelled with vindication. "Marcy is exceedingly capable, and the marvels she's able to cobble together from scrap wood and elbow grease is equal parts incredible and worrying."

"You don't trust her!" Sprig accused, finding his footing again.

"Oh, I trust her Sprig. I know that she would do anything to protect us..." Hop Pop frowned, again remembering the night on the mountainside when Marcy had gotten injured to protect Hop Pop from the general. "That's what scares me. She'll do whatever it takes to keep those she cares about safe... even if that hurts her in the long run. I wanted her to have a quiet, peaceful life in Wartwood. It's part of why I ran against Toadstool, and why I turned down his bribe to reinstate the Plantar family stand." Sprig's eyes widened. He hadn't told any of them about that offer during the election. "I wanted the valley to be a place Marcy could put her mind to helping folks." Marcy always seemed happy and satisfied when her inventions could help people.

"...then why take the music box?"

"I worried that if she went questing for answers about this music box that she'd end up in more situations where she'd have to... hurt others. Have to lose more parts of herself..." He sighed, body feeling heavy despite being the size of a salt shaker. "But I didn't have the right to make that choice for her, even if I was worried. If I had reservations I should have talked them out with her," Hop Pop admitted, as he laid his hand over his chest.

"He passed away recently while we were traveling..." Doc said with a sigh.

Dia frowned, hoping it came off as more sympathetic than disappointed. "I'm so sorry... where were you all traveling?"

"We were heading to Newtopia. He was an actor, and always wanted to see a show at the Royal Newtopian Theater... but he didn't make it."

Dia knew that was some bullsh*t, but she couldn't exactly blame the girl for it. Dia wouldn't tell the whole truth in this situation either. Well, if he was dead, that might simplify things. The poster had said alive or dead after all. "Did you find someplace nice to bury him? Along the shore maybe?"

Doc's shoulders slumped. "Nothing to bury..." she said solemnly. At Dia's raised brow she elaborated, "Scorpoleo got him in the night."

Dia nodded, there was a reason she preferred traveling by sea. The wilds of Amphibia were crawling with monsters. There was still something off, though. "Your siblings don't seem too affected."

Doc nodded, "it's been a few weeks and..." she hesitated, looking unsure if this was her story to tell, but ultimately relented, "This isn't their first time losing a parent."

Hop Pop waited for a spell, seeing if Sprig had any other arguments or counters to his words. Sprig frowned, deep in thought. Hop Pop was proud of the boy for really listening. His fingers drummed on the box Hop Pop was standing on with a worried frown on his face.

In the absence of any retort, Hop Pop continued. "Alright, you heard me out. If you still can't forgive me, that's your right. But please, stop bringing up that night around Marcy."

Sprig looked sad and a little uncertain. When he finally did speak it wasn't with the fire he had been carrying for the rest of this conversation. "... why didn't she ask me to stop?"

The tone, asking for guidance, was one Hop Pop hadn't heard in well over a month. Its return was welcome. "I can't speak for her, but if I had to guess? She doesn't want you to worry about her."

Sprig spent some time chewing on that bit of information before speaking. "I still think you should tell her what you tried to do." Sprig frowned, holding out his hands for Hop Pop to jump into.

Hop Pop hopped into his palms with a frown and nodded in assent. "If we get through this whole ordeal, I'll find the time," Hop Pop agreed. "For now, I think she has more than enough to deal with, don't you?"

Sprig reluctantly nodded before lifting Hop Pop up to his head and stowing him away under his hat. Sprig opened the door and was met with the wide, imposing form of Steel Jaw looking down at him. Polly was balanced on his shoulder and looked nervous for her brother. Steel Jaw raised an eyebrow expectantly. "Uh..." Sprig tried to reach for some kind of believable lie.

Before he could manage to think of one, Steel Jaw put a heavy palm on Sprig's shoulder and spoke. "Slacking on job, eh? Steel Jaw understands. Sometimes need break." The seasoned pirate spoke with compassion and Sprig felt briefly relieved, right up until the man scooped Sprig under his arm. "However, shouldn't have gotten caught. More so, should have told someone you need break," he lectured, turning around and walking out towards the top deck. "On ship we work together. Too many take break and ship sink."

Sprig thought about struggling, but while the hold wasn't painful, there was absolutely no give. "Wow-" Sprig squeaked out, "You're really strong, Steel Jaw."

"Thank you. I know."

Dia leaned back in her seat. Looks like there was little chance of getting that bounty now. Would have been quite the cherry on top for this trip. There was also the chance that the bounty would update looking to axe Doc in the old man's place. Especially if there was any truth to those tall tales her brother had been telling the crew, but Dia had to draw the line somewhere. Dia may have been a career criminal, a cutthroat, and a cheater at cards; but she wasn't about to hand a child over to the authorities.

Of course, there was always the possibility that the girl was pulling the wool over Dia’s eyes, but if she was, she was a hell of a liar. It was a believable enough story, with how protective she’d been of the two little frogs, as well as the heavy burden she seemed to carry everywhere, no matter what she was doing.

Dia would just have to count her blessings. She got that strange ship to sell to whatever enthusiast would be interested in it, a hefty coin purse the three orphans had been carrying on hand for their travels, and a pretty capable doctor for her crew. If those kids needed a home, then there were worse places to grow up than the Croaking Daughter. If hunters came for Doc, then they'd fight them off the same way they fought off the ones that came for the rest of them. They may have been a rough and tumble lot, but they protected their own.

Marcy did her best to maintain steady eye contact with the captain as she finished her story. Lying didn’t come naturally to her, especially with how many details she’d have to keep track of now, but she’d managed to cobble together a pretty respectable story. She’d watched Sasha get her and Anne out of trouble enough times to know the pattern.

"Well, in any case..." Dia stood up from her chair, walked over to Marcy and placed a hand on her shoulder. Marcy tensed a bit at the touch, hand gripped tightly around the taser in her pocket, but waited for the captain's judgment. "The three of you have a place here on this ship for as long as you want it," Dia said, and Marcy felt the knot of anxiety in her gut slowly uncoil itself.

Marcy would have to make sure to pull Sprig and Polly aside later to keep their story straight. While she was glad the story had passed muster, she did feel bad about lying to Dia. The captain was pretty understanding and might be willing to let them go early, but ultimately Marcy wasn't sure she could trust the captain just yet. Marcy wasn't always the best judge of character after all.

A rapid knock came from the door, distracting them from their moment. Dia turned towards the door. "Aye? What is it?"

Steel Jaw opened the door, saluting the captain and then nodding to Marcy respectfully. What concerned Marcy was Sprig looking up at her sheepishly from under the scarred toad’s arm. "Caught this one slacking off in the closet, Cap'n." Steel Jaw informed neutrally. Polly shook herself from side to side in reserved disappointment.

Marcy raised a curious brow at her brother, but he only shrugged helplessly.

"A first offense is it?" Dia said, rubbing at her chin in thought. "That'll warrant some punishment... I'll have you scrubbing out the mess I think. Place could use a bit of a wash."

Suddenly, a haggard looking frog burst into the captain’s quarters. If Marcy remembered correctly, his name was Bud - he’d had some kind of altercation with Sprig recently. "Captain! I think we have a mark!" he exclaimed, clearly excited. "Heavily laden merchant ship! Looks to be unarmed"

"Ah, perfect. Steel Jaw, take the little ones below deck and get everyone ready for boarding," Dia instructed before grabbing the belt and cutlass she had draped over her chair. "Doc, are you ready to witness your first boarding action from the winning side?"

"Sure thing, Captain!" Marcy smiled as she finally got up from her chair to follow everyone out.

Outside the fog that had been omnipresent for the week and a half Marcy had spent at sea was a little lighter, but not by much. She could see the ship they were catching up to, but little else in the shroud.

Soon the deck was a flurry of activity. Orders were called out and preparations made. Some pirates grabbed weapons while others checked over the ballista at the fore and aft of the ship. Sprig and Polly were safe with Steel Jaw below deck.

Marcy looked to the few frogs scrambling about on the deck of the merchant ship. They rushed about, looking nervous and panicky.

"Are we going to hurt anyone?" Marcy asked, a little timidly.

Dia looked back at her, sympathetic but uncompromising. "If they put up a fight we might injure one or two, though I don't think they'll take up arms at all. I highly doubt those frogs really own anything in that hold. It’s unlikely they'll be willing to lay down their lives for it." There was a calm logic in her tone, which Marcy could appreciate. "However, if things do get ugly, we’ve got you here to patch up the wounded."

That was somewhat of a relief. Marcy still felt bad for the frogs, but was glad she wasn't expected to do any of the fighting if it came to that.

Ahead of them was a slow moving merchant sloop, looking like it had weathered a pretty bad storm already. It seemed as unarmed and unprepared for the crew of the Croaking Daughter as the fwagon had been. There were some frogs on board who were making a token attempt at escaping, but they seemed... comically inept. They had failed to open the sails after spotting the pirates, and when they finally managed to unfurl them, they were moth eaten and filled with holes.

"Does this seem... too easy to you?" Marcy asked of Dia who was standing on the aft deck with her hands clasped behind her back, a confident pillar that her crew moved around.

Dia shrugged. "Some people just aren't as prepared for the harsh nature of the sea as they should be. Though I will say, by the looks of it we'll be doing them a favor. If they were heading out past the Barring of Frosch, the first squall would have brought a crew like them to the depths."

Marcy nodded, still anxious, but took Dia's word for it.

Dia seemed to pick up on her nervousness and spoke casually. "Don't worry, in all likelihood you'll only be treating twisted ankles today Doc. I doubt there will be a real fight."

Marcy nodded but still felt a bubble of worry, if not for the sailors they were about to board, then from this feeling that something was about to go very wrong. It didn't help that the ship’s relatively slow speed gave her plenty of time to think. It would still be a little bit before any kind of action started, good or bad.

Dia picked up on this as well and shifted to a more casual tone. "Heard you were telling tales to the little ones at night."

"Oh... yeah. Just some stories from my world." Marcy nodded, still distracted.

"I imagine you've heard a number of the frog's tales in your time with them, but what do you know of the axolotls?"

Marcy paused, and looked back at Dia with genuine curiosity. She... hadn't found a lot of lore on axolotls in Amphibia. The newts were known to be the wise rulers at the heart of the country. Toads were the warrior caste who supposedly 'defended the empire'. Frogs were the backbone of the agricultural society, keeping everything else afloat, even if most books didn't frame it that way. Axolotl's were... oddly absent from most books. They weren't quite as mysterious as the elusive Olms, but still strangely undocumented. She had assumed that was a bias of Frog Valley, that just a few lived there like Loggle, but even in their travels they seemed fairly thin on the ground, with Barney and Dia being two of the first ones she’d met.

"Well, I know that you are considered industrious..." Marcy said, straining to recall any information about the species. "And you call the islands off the continent’s coasts your home?" As they spoke, the ship finally came into firing range of the little ship. However, the first shot was too high and ended up clattering on top of the deck of the helpless merchant vessel. The pirates started to reel in the harpoon with their winch.

"Ah yes, an industrious sort," Dia said with a chuckle as her crew went about their industry. "Does it strike you as odd that our 'homeland' would be separated by the width of the continent?"

Marcy nodded. "It does." The second shot was readied and fired, scoring a hit; the harpoon splintered through the hull and tugged on tight. Now almost twenty frogs, newts, and toads pushed a winch to slowly reel in their prey. The boarding party, dozens strong, brandished a variety of weapons as colorful and diverse as the crew itself.

"There is an old tale on the isles, that long ago, before the first cornerstone of Newtopia's wall was placed, that we once came from the swamps of the continent, and served the ancient olms."

Marcy listened, but her eyes were focused on the crows nest of the other vessel. It wasn't easy to see, but there was some kind of flashing light coming from there. At first Marcy had dismissed it as a spyglass, but on closer inspection it looked like a hand mirror.

"When the kingdom rose to power, the Olms retreated into legend." Dia said with a little bitterness in her voice. "Left the axolotl’s to fend for themselves on the surface."

Marcy decided the flashes likely were meant to be a message of some kind, maybe an SOS? It was hard to make out, and it wasn't directed right at the Croaking Daughter. Meanwhile the distance between the two ships had grown thinner.

"We were driven from our homes on the continent, pushed and pushed until we were forced into the seas. Forced to swim for farther shores or die in the attempt."

Marcy, frustrated, took a breath and then tapped on the side of her skirt, one-three-two. Her vision of the situation grew clear and concise as emotions that would be of no help faded out of view. The pirates were all light green, no threat, conditional allies. The fog wasn't eliminated but every shade and silhouette that could be made out was superimposed with a thick outline so they wouldn't be lost. The merchant ship was rendered in a neutral gray. Not allies, but not enemies either. All of that information faded as her eyes focused on the man in the crows nest and the flashed message.

Her mind briefly tried to run the message as a Morse code, but it translated it as gibberish. Either there was a cipher she wasn't privy to or, more likely, it was simply a totally different system. Instead her mind calculated the exact angle the mirror was aiming its flashes towards. She followed the angle into the fog, her eyes looking to pick up any discrepancies in the fog. Then she caught it, deep in the recesses of the fog, there was a responding flash.

Marcy tapped her fingers in the reverse pattern, two-three-one and the world returned to normal. Marcy felt a knot of distress from being in the emotionless mind set, but swallowed it down. It wasn't as bad as when she first felt it, which was as much of a worry as it was a relief. She glanced down at Dia, who had stopped her tale and was looking at her warily.

"What's up with your eyes, Doc?"

They were probably green, but that was not what she was worried about right now. Marcy stepped forward and gripped the railing of the raised deck and shouted into the crowd of boarders below. "Everyone! Stop! It's a trap!" A couple of the pirates that were preparing to make the leap across nearly stumbled overboard, looking back in confusion. They frowned but did pause for the moment to look at Dia.

Dia grabbed firm hold of Marcy's arm and pulled her back forcefully to face her. "Doctor, what do you presume-"

"They have someone in the crow’s nest sending messages!" Marcy said pointing up, "They're communicating with another ship hidden in the mist." Marcy explained loud enough so that the rest of the crew understood her reasons as well. "Captain, this isn't an easy mark, it's bait."

Dia frowned, taking the information in and looking out towards the mist where Marcy had gestured. The silhouette of another ship began to draw closer. Not sparing the moment to thank Marcy she called out to the crew. "Drop the chain and get us unbound!"

No sooner had the words left her mouth than the sound of a deep, bassy warhorn emanated from the crows nest of the supposed merchant ship. The horn was echoed not just from the ship off the port side Marcy had sussed out, but another off the starboard side. They were surrounded.

"Prepare to repel boarders!" Dia announced.

From the deck of the merchant ship, dozens of newts dressed in the blue uniform of the kingdom swarmed the top deck at the signal, nimbly leaping with their amphibian legs up and around the ballista of the Croaking Daughter. There weren't many of them, Marcy recognized, they were only meant to keep the borders occupied and divided from their fellows. Here too they were too few in number to win alone, but their goal was not to win, it was to keep the pirate ship from cutting the ballista's cable.

Thanks to the early warning, the pirates were not caught completely off guard, but were unable to cut the iron linked chains to wrest them free. The other two ships, on a ramming course with the Croaking Daughter emerged into view. From their top sail the fluttering red flag with the visage of a toad head that Marcy recognized all too well.

"The Western Toad fleet..." Dia said with a sour growl.

Standing at the head of one of the ships that had emerged from the mists as a toad wearing what looked like lacquered samurai armor. He wore a katana and wakizashi on his belt. His hair was tied in a tight knot and he had neatly trimmed facial hair.

The ship was distinctly different from the Croaking Daughter. Compared to the 18th century small but swift pirate ship, the toad warships appeared to be lumbering wooden castles. Giant hulls curved up from the water with arrow slits running all along its side. The lack of sails was compensated for by dozens of great oars that propelled the ship towards them. To Marcy's eyes it looked like a Japanese warship right out of the warring states era, lumbering and top heavy but well prepared for naval warfare that still relied on boarding the other ship. It would have been difficult for it to catch the Croaking Daughter in open water. Unfortunately for them, it happened to be on a direct ramming course with them.

[From the Journal of Marcy Wu]

The second ship on approach was smaller, but still towered over them, and worse was on course to be the hammer to the capital ship’s anvil. The captain was also a great deal less composed than his counterpart, jeering as their ship drifted ever closer. Over and over again he blew into the warhorn declaring his soon to be arrival.

"Looks like you might need to fight after all Doc, this is not looking great for us." Dia warned before she stepped forward to start giving orders.

Marcy desperately looked for a way out, but she came up empty. This was going to be messy no matter what she did. However, as Marcy puzzled over the possibilities, a greater threat made itself known to everyone.

Marcy only saw a flash of scales on the surface of the water before it emerged. Bright red scales launched themselves from the sea, the width of a school bus and longer than a football field, aimed directly at the hull of the bellowing warship. It passed through the thick wooden hull like it was made of matchsticks. It arced through the water, its long glimmering body moving through the ship with no resistance. Toads were flung from the top deck into the sea. Their panicked screams filled the air..

For a moment all combat on the deck of the Croaking Daughter ground to a halt as the worst nightmare of every sailor there made its appearance.

A few fearful looks were shot Marcy's way, including one from Dia. Marcy held up her hands in defense. "Wasn't me."

The serpent rose out of the water, its thick scales and long body giving it the appearance of an eastern dragon. It had one giant eye in the middle of its face, but it wasn't looking at any of them in particular. Its eye was gray and foggy with a spear of some kind lodged in its pupil.

"What is that thing!?" Marcy asked shakily.

"The Serpent of the Great Bay." Dia answered in disbelief. "So it's true, someone really blinded the beast."

It let out a bellowing roar that put the warhorns that had summoned it to shame, and dove at the survivors of the ship it had scuttled.

In mere moments, there was a total reversal of priorities. The newts and pirates that had been fighting for control of the ballista harpoon started to work together to free the merchant craft. Unfortunately, they didn’t seem to be having much luck. The toad flagship attempted to break off of its intercept course, but it was too late; the shriek of splintering wood filled the air as the ram crashed into the hull of the Croaking Daughter, entangling the two ships and leaving them sitting ducks for the great beast that wrought havoc only a few hundred yards away.

"Captain, is there a plan?" Marcy asked.

"Currently?" Dia said under her breath, so others couldn't hear. "Swim for shore once the beast sinks us all."

"Still can't swim that well!" Marcy fretted as she saw one toad that had been swimming far faster than Marcy ever could hope to get swallowed whole as the creature breached the surface of the water under them.

"Well, Doc, I'm not sure I can help you there. If you have another way to stop the beast, I'm all ears!" Dia said, clearly a little put off.

"I might. Need a couple of things to make it work!" Marcy responded.

Dia had almost disregarded Marcy to focus on the likely fruitless pursuit of removing the ram from her ship. "Doc, If you can save my ship, you can have first pick of the spoils. What do you need?"

A voice rang out from the crew in sheer panic "It's coming this way!"

Marcy watched as pirates and the soldiers from toad tower started to move together to save both of their mutual skins. Some took to firing crossbows, but the bolts bounced harmlessly off the creature’s armored hide. Larger ballista bolts lanced through the air at the creature from the toad flagship. Most missed the beast, but one connected and Marcy watched as a single scale the size of Marcy’s chest was dislodged by the massive projectile. The scale soared through the air and embedded itself inches away from a pirate’s head.

"That! If I can get that down to my clinic I may be able to stop that thing from destroying your ship!" Marcy said, putting a bit more confidence in her voice.

Dia regarded the eldest of her newest recruits. She looked doubtful, but quickly agreed, "Not like I have a better plan. Maxwell!" she barked down to the red newt who stumbled to a stop, listening for an order. "The Doc has a plan to get us out of this, toss up that beast's scale." Maxwell did as he was told, hauling the scale out from where it had embedded itself and throwing it like a frisbee up to Marcy.

Marcy fumbled the catch, but managed to pull the scale to her chest. "Perfect! let's head down and-"

"That- that's The Red Moon Witch!" A voice bellowed from the toads of the fleet.

Another took up the alarm. "She must have summoned the beast!"

"Get her!"

Dia was quick to countermand the order. "Everyone, protect the doctor!"

As quickly as that, the crews of both ships once again whirred into a frantic melee. Dia drew her blade and stepped in front of Marcy. Her sword flashed coldly through the air, every swing calculated to either knock a weapon out of hand or wound a toad in their way. Marcy followed on unsteady feet, as the movements of the leviathan around them rocked the boat back and forth. Marcy held the great scale tight to her chest with one hand while the other maintained a death grip on her taser. One toad rushed up the other end of the deck to get at Marcy and found his nervous system fried as he wound up a swing with his hammer. A second that attempted to swipe at her from a cut rope in the rigging narrowly missed her and found themselves twitching on the ground as Marcy held the prongs against their neck. Marcy looked up and saw Dia surrounded by disarmed, injured, and downed toads, though she barely seemed winded.

The absurdity of the sudden chaotic brawl was brought into clear focus as the beast speared through the floundering merchant ship, turning it into so much driftwood.

It was good fortune that Marcy had been on the aft deck, the distance to the staircase leading down into the hull was ultimately just one set of stairs, and with Dia covering her, Marcy was able to half fall down into the relative safety of the inner hull.

"Marcy!" A familiar voice called, and Marcy looked up to see her two siblings, as well as Steel Jaw, at the bottom of the staircase. "What is happening up there?"

"Giant serpent," Marcy answered, struggling to her feet, and gestured with the giant scale she still had tucked under her arm. "Oh, also an ambush by the western fleet.

Steel Jaw grunted in distaste at that.

"Come on Steel Jaw! Let me at 'em’!" Polly pleaded, "We can take them!" the little pollywog pounded one flipper into the other, a determined fire in her eyes.

Steel Jaw regarded Polly seriously before shaking his head. "No. You are too powerful now. Wouldn't be fair fight." Steel Jaw said, his tone as inscrutable as ever.

That seemed to placate Polly's bloodlust. "I guess so..."

Marcy had to marvel at the finesse with words the old first mate had. Dia was right on the money, dude was great with kids.

"Steel Jaw, guard the door! Nobody gets in!" Dia called as they reached the bottom of the stairs. Dia moved about the cabin as if the monstrous rocking of the ship was a daily occurrence. Meanwhile, Marcy’s progress was slowed by her clumsy feet bouncing off one wall to the other.

Steel Jaw handed Polly off to Marcy and dropped Sprig to his feet. Marcy quickly deposited her sister into her hood and continued on towards the clinic. Sprig jumped alongside Marcy.

"Wait! Steel jaw! What about your weapons!?" Polly called out in warning as the steel faced toad stomped his way top side.

Steel Jaw did not turn around in his ascent, but called back while flexing his hands into a fist and back again. "Worry not small one. Steel Jaw is weapon." Without another word Steel Jaw reached the top of the stair and immediately swung hard enough that the crack of bone could be heard above the din.

"So cool..." Polly whispered.

Marcy had mixed feelings about Steel Jaw, but he had kept Polly from entering the fray upstairs, and for that she was grateful.

Their little party weaved through the deck as it tilted this way and that, pushing Marcy's coordination to the limit. She made sure that, no matter how many times she tripped or banged off the wall of the ship, Polly wouldn't be slammed against it. Pirates were running about and Dia shouted orders, directing some to keep working to dislodge the ram from their hull, some to pick up arms and join the battle topside, and others to man the bilge pumps further belowdecks.

Once they got to the clinic, Sprig hopped up onto one wall and stuck there while Marcy went to work. "First, powder from a ruin, long forgotten." She grabbed a good amount of the powdered stone she had taken from the factory and carefully let it out into a glass measuring cup. "Second, deadly venom of a captured beast." Marcy took out the vial of scorpoleo venom and poured it into the beaker, though a worrying amount spilled as the entire ship tilted, violently accompanied by the sound of the serpent scraping against the bottom of the vessel. "Boiled in the salt of the planet's lifeblood..." Marcy grabbed at a bottle she had filled with saltwater and a boil bead, drowning the other ingredients and then tossing the bead in after it. She picked up a fork and started to roughly stir the boiling mixture, hissing in pain a bit as a few boiling droplets splattered onto her wrist.

"Doc, how long’s this gonna take?" Dia asked impatiently.

"Almost done, just one more ingredient..." she took out a small paring knife, hesitating for only a moment before bringing the blade to her finger. "Finally..." Just before she worked up the nerve to cut, Sprig launched himself at Marcy's arm, latching onto it. Marcy dropped the knife in shock, narrowly avoiding cutting off the tip of her finger. She held her arm out to the side, stumbling back. "Sprig! What the frog?! That's dangerous!"

"Yeah, you need to be careful with knives, knucklehead!" Polly added in agreement.

"Don't!" Sprig pleaded, wrapping around Marcy's arm like a koala bear, "Please stop hurting yourself!"

Marcy frowned, appreciating the sentiment but not the timing. "Sprig, it's fine! It'll just be a little cut!" she tried, waving her arm to dislodge the determined frog but to no avail. She moved back in the clinic so she could throw him on the bed once he was freed. She tried pulling and grabbing him with her free arm, to similarly little effect.

The splintering alarm of the serpent brushing against the hull sounded and Dia growled in annoyance. "We don't have time for this! What's the last ingredient?!"

Marcy, who was still trying to pull Sprig off her, answered between grunts of effort. "Blood of a traitor, freely given." Sprig's eyes widened as he looked up at her from the length of her arm, but he didn't let go.

"Got it." Dia said, dragging Marcy's attention away from her brother. Without hesitation, the captain removed her glove and drew her sword an inch along a calloused thumb. A little trickle of red blood emerged and she held it over the potion. One drop landed inside and a poof of silvery smoke went up from the mixture. The murky mixture of poison, dust, and salt suddenly seemed to dry out into a rich silvery powder.

"... it worked." Marcy confirmed.

Marcy, Sprig, and Polly all looked at the captain who stared back at them, unphased. "Oh, like this is such a shock." Dia responded. “Let’s just say mommy dearest didn’t exactly leave this boat to me in her will.”

Dia took a tiny swig of the health potion on the Doc's desk and marveled as her fresh wound closed up without any trouble.

She watched the Doc carefully as Sprig let go of her arm and let her go back to work. However, to Dia's great confusion there was apparently little else to be done. Doc just walked up, settled the scale onto her desk, picked up the freshly concocted mixture and then dumped the silvery dust onto the scale. Doc let out a sigh. "There, it's done."

Dia paused, looked at the now glittery monster scale, and then scowled at the strange girl. She gripped the hilt of her cutlass and sank into a ready stance. "If this is a joke, know that I am not laughing," she warned in a low tone.

Marcy held her hands up, stepping back, clearly intimidated, but not worried. "No, really! Don't you feel that?"

"I don't feel anything!" Dia snapped, but then stopped, relaxing her posture. While the ship was still rocking, it was no longer pitching from side to side. It felt like a storm had suddenly broken. "I don't feel anything..." she said again, looking to the doctor for an explanation.

"Serpent is neutralized." was all she offered, lowering her hands with a sigh of relief. "You'll probably want to go up and see which way things are going to fall." She sat down on her bed, catching her breath. "Call me up when you think it's safe to do some triage."

Dia looked at the girl, still wary. Sailors were a superstitious lot and Dia wasn’t completely comfortable with the concept of magic.

"Oh! Take me with you!" the littlest one, Polly tried to crawl out of her sister’s hood, however Doc scooped her up and held her firmly to her chest.

"No you don't, both of you are staying down here," Doc said sternly.

That put Dia at ease. Whatever else was at play, Dia knew where the girl's priorities lie. However, if the serpent was truly dealt with, Doc was right. She would need to return topside quickly. She gave a thankful nod to the doctor and started to make her way through the bowels of the ship, expecting all the while for it to lurch to one side and for the threat to reassert itself. But it didn't. She made it to the staircase that they had descended just a short time ago. She saw Steel Jaw, with a number of unconscious toad soldiers at his feet, staring incredulously off to port.

That's when Dia noticed it wasn't just the rocking of the ship that had been quelled in the wake of the witch’s spell. The brawl on deck had stopped. "First mate, what in the blazes is going... on..."

Now Dia was no stranger to tall tales. Tall tales were some of the first lies she had learned to tell. Learned from old hands she had grown up beside. She learned the names of Red Horn, the axolotl pirate king who savaged the seas of Amphibia for half a century. Stories of heart pounding exploits of raiding Newtopia itself. Ancient half forgotten legends of thieves like Riana the wise. All stories she had thought to be blown wildly out of proportion, and the tale of the Serpent of the Great Bay was no exception. A story of a creature that had prowled the sea for centuries, told and retold by haunted survivors who swam for shore. Too common a tale to completely dismiss, Dia still had believed it exaggerated until she saw the thing tear a ship asunder in its wake. Known for cruelty and for playing with its victims, Dia thought for certain she had been about to lose her ship.

Yet, here she stood, looking up at the beast, its body impaling the now sinking toad flag ship from below. Its body twisted and contorted in frozen wrath. Its entire form was shaped into solid stone, an impossible statue greater in size and scope than anything Dia had seen before. The beast that had terrorized sailors of every stripe for hundreds of years was indeed 'neutralized' as the good doctor had so humbly put it.

Every sailor, pirate and navy man stared at it, and then slowly at one another. The common threat had passed. There was a chance for them to simply let bygones be bygones, work together to keep the Croaking Daughter afloat and make their way to land. Put aside their differences and work together towards a common goal of survival.

Dia's eyes met with Bufo's, the toad lord of the western tower and its fleet. They both understood what this moment was.

They also both knew there was no way they could ever really trust each other.

"Get these detestable whelps off my ship!" Dia shouted out.

"Draw arms men! We take the ship for our own!" Bufo called and once again battle was joined.

Pirate swords against the hammers and axes of the tower toads. Dia fought with aplomb. Swifter in step and blade than any member of the Newtopian forces, she inevitably came into contact with the toad lord. Their blades met and the two swung, parried, and stabbed at one another like two strangers on the dance floor. Each waited for the other to falter.

"Bufo," Dia spat as they locked blades, "I thought we had an arrangement. You get your cut, and you leave me be."

Bufo attempted a kick at her shin but Dia back stepped out of it. "Apologies, orders from on high. Plus, your bounty has been rising well above what you pay me for safe passage," he said unapologetically.

"Please, flattery will get you nowhere with me." Dia said as she almost took off the toad’s arm, but he managed to parry the blow at the last moment, her cutlass chipping his sword as it made impact.

"Then how about coppers?" Bufo asked and Dia tilted her head, not in agreement, but for him to go on. "That creature you have below decks, she's of great interest to the toad lords."

Dia growled and shook off her blade to start striking at the toad with a flurry of slashes, "You think me a fool? Those wanted posters are for her grandfather, not her." Dia said, insulted that he would think her so daft.

"Newtopia wants that old frog. We want her." Bufo clarified. "Four thousand copper." Dia paused her assault. "That would be your cut, by the way." That was a fortune, no matter how you sliced it. It would be more than enough for her to repair the whole of her ship, with enough left over to add another to her fleet, even if she had to build it from scratch. "We can all go home happy and rich, Ms. Mond. Let's just call this whole thing off."

Dia considered it. Seriously considered it. But honestly she should have known better than to conspire against a witch. In the chaos of battle she spotted a young axolotl crewmember going about, forcing her pirates to take swigs from the Doc's bottled health potion. Dia disengaged from the toad lord and before he could pursue her, two of her pirates renewed by the potion took her place. "Samual! What are you doing?!" She called out.

"Doc said to come up and start getting folks on their feet!" Samual responded.

That was when Dia heard a strange noise through the fire and chaos of the melee. Something she had heard only behind the walls of newtopia before meeting Doc. She found her way to the portside and looked over the railing. Sitting atop the roof where she had first seen her just over a week ago was the Doctor on top of that strange ship she had built. It was a little worse for the wear, but clearly still seaworthy as it paddled away.

Marcy looked up apologetically at the captain and shrugged with a coy smile. "I decided on which prize I wanted!" she called up. "Sorry! It's not personal, you know!"

Dia considered the statement before letting out a belly laugh. "It's just business then! Alright. You best hope we don't find you again Doc. I'll have you cleaning the latrines for the better part of a year." She saluted with her cutlass and then turned back to the fight.

Marcy started to turn the ship away and heard the sound of Polly hopping up the fwagon's stairs to shout out across the distance between the ships. "Steel Jaw! I'll never forget you!"

Marcy spotted the toad in question. He was up on the upper deck, currently in a brawl. His fist was gripped solidly around the neck of one of the few surviving newt marines, who was gagging violently, desperately trying to struggle out of the toad's grip. At Polly's call he turned to look out at them, face stoic as ever. He waved to Polly with his free hand. A single tear escaped from his sunken, haunted eyes. He ceased waving to wipe the tear from his cheek, replacing it with a crimson streak from his apparently blood soaked hands. As they began to pass into the mist, Marcy winced as the scar studded first mate reared that same bloody fist back, punched the newt unconscious and then calmly hurled him overboard.

Marcy turned her back on the ship, steering the fwagon to point east. Soon, the mist swallowed the Croaking Daughter and a while after it drowned out the sounds of ringing steel as well.

Sprig dunked another one of Marcy's boil beads into the engine she and Polly created. He listened for a moment at the big cask of water as it started to bubble noisily. Satisfied, he looked to what essentials they had managed to flee with. The family shrub and Plantar tome, all of the little creatures they had brought on board, most of Marcy's alchemy stuff, Sprig's violin, and a few knick-knacks. Of course the most important thing of all, all four of their family had made it on board. Polly was asleep in her drawer of the bed. She looked nice and comfortable, her eye fully healed and her bow returned to its rightful place atop her head. Hop Pop was still shrunken, sleeping on the bed of cotton balls Marcy had fashioned for him on the pirate ship. Finally, his older sister was of course the one driving the fwagonboat. Sprig climbed the stairs to check on her.

For the first time since they set out from the fishing village the fog and mist had actually cleared up enough that they could see the night sky. A beautiful array of stars shone above them, along with the moon that had somehow become Marcy’s namesake.

Marcy herself was sitting behind the wheel, though it looked more like it was supporting her than she was driving it. She perked up when she noticed him. "Hey, everything good below decks, First Mate Sprig?"

"Sure is, Captain Marcy!" Sprig snapped off a salute and came to sit down next to her. They sat there for a while, listening to the hum of the fwagon's engine and the splashes of water from the paddlewheel on the back. "Your curse was really cool today!"

Marcy nodded, letting out a yawn as her arms rested on the scrap wood steering wheel. "Thanks Sprig, I was really glad it worked out." Marcy let out a sigh stretching her neck a bit. "Was worried for a second that it wouldn't work, but it really fully turned to stone!" She turned to face him, a look of pride in her smile.

As Sprig looked in her eyes, he could see a bit of the change that Hop Pop had mentioned. There was a difference, a shift from when he stumbled upon her in the forest all those months ago. Both in good and concerning ways. There was a warm, comforting quality to her expression, of trust and caring that made Sprig feel safe, a difference from the wide eyed curiosity she had beheld him with as a stranger. But there was also an edge, a weariness that hadn't been there before the tax collectors came. It wasn't the first time he had noticed of course. He'd seen it often enough, especially after Anne left, but for the first time he really understood that it wasn't just a phase she was going through. That something had stuck with her after that night up on the tower walls.

Marcy returned her view to face forward and lazily turned away from a small craggy island in the water.

Sprig launched himself into her side, wrapping his little arms around her as best as he was able.

Marcy was clearly surprised but not bothered by the hug. "Woah, what's this for?" Marcy asked, a smile audible in her voice.

"Nothing," Sprig insisted, head nuzzled under Marcy's arm. "Just... thanks for keeping us safe..."

"Aw... of course." Marcy wrapped her arm around Sprig and returned his hug while keeping one hand on the wheel. Sprig took comfort in the embrace. It was okay, everything was okay. "You know I'd do anything for you guys!" Sprig flinched at the words. His hands balled up into fists gripping into Marcy's sweatshirt as he tried to hug her tighter. Marcy noticed this and pulled back slightly. "Something wrong, Sprig?"

Sprig shook his head into her sweatshirt, pulling back and sniffling. "No, no I'm fine. You're just stinky," he deflected.

Marcy rolled her eyes. "Well excuuuse me, prince. Not all of us can shed and secrete all our grime away."

"You. Not all of you," Sprig countered. "You're the only stinky one Marcy."

Marcy frowned down at him before smirking and adjusting her arm to put Sprig into a headlock. "How's this, then?"

"Gak, hugh aaaagh! The smell! It burns!" Sprig dramatically protested, until both of them were giggling. Marcy relaxed the chokehold until she was just loosely hugging Sprig again. Sprig smiled up at his sister and thought for a moment. "Hey, can you show me how to steer this thing?"

"Huh? How come?"

"Well, Hop Pop is staying tiny for a while right?" Marcy nodded in confirmation. "So, right now you're the only one who can drive. But if you teach me then I can drive while you get some sleep."

"Oh, you don't have to worry. I can handle it." Marcy insisted.

"Oh... so we'll park somewhere onshore whenever you need to sleep?" Sprig asked. There was a pregnant pause while Marcy avoided Sprig's gaze. Then Sprig repeated more sternly, "So we'll park onshore whenever you need to sleep, right Marcy?"

"By boat it should only be a couple of days to Newtopia..."

"Marcy." Sprig escaped Marcy's grasp so he could face her.

"A couple of days without sleep shouldn’t-"

"Marcy."

"Okay, okay." Marcy said, admitting defeat. "It’s a good idea. I'll show you, but don't spin the wheel as fast as you can for fun."

"I promise," Sprig said and sidled up next to Marcy to try and absorb everything he could. Sprig flexed every bit of his attention span to try and absorb the instructions. He might not be able to fix everything for Marcy, but he would help her where he could.

Bud struggled in vain to escape Maxwell and Steel Jaw’s unsympathetic grasps. They had caught him attempting to abandon ship when they came within sight of land.

There had been a number of captured Newt and Toad navy men and Bud had hoped to get away before one of them ratted him out, but no such luck. “Come on. I just wanted to get something to eat after the fight.” His complaints fell on deaf ears.

He was dragged to the ship’s bow, where Captain Mond rested on a supply crate salvaged from one of the navy vessels. Her coat was draped over her seat, and she had discarded her tunic to allow her new scars to breathe. They were two clean cuts across her chest and stomach that should have been fatal. She seemed unbothered as she calmly inspected the sword she’d claimed after defeating the toad lord.

Bud was shoved to his knees in front of Dia’s makeshift throne. “Captain, I can explain! That creature, the human it must have been a-” Bud started, but the pilfered sword flicked out to rest at the hollow of his throat. He froze.

“Tell me Bud, do you think someone who survives terrible things has good luck or bad luck?” Dia’s tone was casual, but it held a dangerous edge.

“Uh…”

“Take these, for example.” She pointed to the wounds she had gotten from the sword she now held in her hand. “Was it good luck that we had enough of Doc’s tonic left to save me from these wounds? Or was it bad luck that I received them?”

Dia gestured broadly to the ship around them. It still showed scars from the recent battle, with numerous patches in the sails and slapdash carpentry covering the damage from the navy’s ram. “Was it good luck that we had the one person capable of killing the Great Serpent on our crew? Or was it bad luck that the beast nearly sank us?”

Dia’s eyes narrowed and she leaned in. “Was it good luck that that self-same soul spotted an ambush before it was too late?” She brought the sword to rest lightly against Bud’s face. “Or, Buddy,” she spat, her tone devoid of its usual warmth, “was it bad luck that I was betrayed in the first place?” Bud felt a sudden stinging pain as Dia sliced a shallow cut across his cheek.

Dia hissed in pain and dropped the sword to the deck as her hand clutched at her new scars. A few pirates started to fuss, but she waved them off and straightened her back. She scowled down at Bud. “Anything to say to all that?”

Bud’s mouth felt dry. Panic drowned out the excuses he had planned.

After a few moments of silence Dia frowned. “Disappointing,” she said dismissively. She turned and spoke to Maxwell. “Secure him to the rear of the boat beneath the waterline. If he hasn’t been eaten by the time we make port I’ll decide what to do with him then.”

Bud pleaded for mercy as he was dragged away, but Dia ignored him entirely. “Steel Jaw! Bring Bufo up next. We need to have a chat.”

Chapter 7: It Takes Two to Burn a Bridge

Chapter Text

Marcy jolted awake from a dreamless sleep, jostled by the rough road beneath her. Groggily, she blindly groped around for her phone, eventually finding it in the pocket of her sweatshirt. She checked the time: 1:32PM. She had gotten somewhere in the ballpark of six hours of sleep, which wasn't that bad, all things considered.

After sailing through the night, they had finally found what Marcy was fairly certain was the mouth of the Royal River that led straight to Newtopia. The gentle current of the wide river was of little hindrance to their paddle boat, and they made the awkward transition back to land at around dawn. They had unshrunk Bessie and Sprig had offered to take the reins for the last leg of the journey.

As she looked up at the sunbeams that lanced through the shuttered windows of the fwagon, Marcy could hear Polly snoring contentedly just off the side of the bed. Marcy considered trying to drift back to sleep but ultimately decided against it. If they weren't close to Newtopia already, they would be soon.

Marcy got up and climbed the staircase to check on Sprig. She quietly opened the trap door to the roof and looked towards the front. Sprig sat in the driver's seat, shoulders tense and eyes locked forward. Hop Pop was perched on his shoulder, still the size of a small beetle. Marcy could just barely make out his voice as tiny chirps, nearly lost in the wind. "Got it!" Sprig responded, loosening his death grip on the reins.

Marcy just observed them for a few moments; she was glad that they seemed to be getting along. She had noticed that the stress of their fugitive lifestyle had caused a bit of a rift between the two. She never figured out what had caused it, but at least it seemed to be settled now.

Hop Pop spotted Marcy and she waved to him with a smile. Hop Pop then turned to inform Sprig of her arrival and he spun around, waving a hand to Marcy. "Good morning Marcy! How'd you sleep?"

"Alright, overall," she said, taking in a breath. "You want anything to eat?"

"I'm alright!" Sprig waved her off, returning his focus to the road. "Thanks, though!"

"How about Hop Pop?"

Sprig tilted his head to listen to Hop Pop for a moment. "Hop Pop says he's alright, too!"

Marcy nodded and descended back into the fwagon to make herself brunch. Their food stores mostly consisted of fish that Sprig had caught on the way; their flight from the Croaking Daughter had not afforded them an opportunity to pack any supplies. They’d had a small break when Polly had revealed a stash of snacks that she had managed to hide from the pirates, but they were pretty low on everything. They had passed several seaside towns during their voyage, but even if they had stopped they didn't have any coin to barter with. This close to Newtopia, Marcy just wanted to push through the final stretch and find someplace to hole up and figure out a plan. She had taken the time to put together a list of skills she could entice employers with, if it came to that.

Marcy sat in the booth to let herself finish waking up. They were close now. She knew she didn't have much time left, so she took out her journal and opened to a fresh page. She was nervous, but she knew she had to do this.

She took up her pencil and started to write.

[PLEASE READ : IMPORTANT]

Hey Anne. I don't know if you've been reading these as they've been arriving, but please take the time to read this one. I don’t have much of the potion left, so it’s probably the last I’ll send for a while.

I'm about to attempt something... pretty dangerous. Really dangerous, if I'm being honest. Partly cause I'm not really in full control of how it will end up.

The good news is if it works, then I'll be in a good position to look into the nature of the box. If it doesn't, well, I guess you won't have to worry about getting these letters anymore.

I don't have a lot of the improved paper golem potion left, maybe one dose. So I'll save it for when I find a clue about how to recharge the box. If I can't keep my promise to find a way to get you home, then I wanted to wish you well and say I'm sorry for everything.

I I

Marcy's hand trembled as she reached the line. She wanted to end with a simple truth: three words, eight letters, and fourteen strokes. Her hand shook violently at the thought of putting it in writing. Her grip grew so tight that the lead in the pencil snapped. She took a few moments to consider the message.

No matter how she looked at it, it was selfish. Cowardly, even. Another burden to leave Anne with.

A few tears dropped onto the page and she sat back and wiped at her eyes. She gently dabbed at the paper until it was dry. She briefly considered drafting up another page, but the thought made her throat close up with emotion. So, she took in a slow deep breath, clicked out more pencil lead and instead wrote-

I Miss you.

-Marcy

Marcy gently blew the pencil lead dust from the page before she tore it out. With practiced hands, she folded the page into a paper airplane. For a moment she thought back to grade school. Marcy had always been the one to fold airplanes for the three of them. Neither Anne nor Sasha had the patience to fold one properly. Anne used to call them 'super planes.’

She took out her potion vial, which was almost empty. She carefully measured out a dose and poured it over the paper airplane. It came to life in her hand and fluttered its wings like a bird, then turned to face her, awaiting orders. Marcy leaned in close and whispered, “Find Anne.” The little plane sat for a moment, then soared up through the open hatch in the roof, disappearing from sight.

"Hey, Marcy! Marcy, come up here! You gotta see this!" The fwagon lurched to a halt.

Polly was woken with a start when the sudden stop nearly launched her out of her drawer "Huh!? What's happening?" Marcy scooped up her sister and climbed the stairs to the roof to see what Sprig was making such a fuss about.

Once she emerged into the cool morning air, she understood immediately.

A massive blue lake stretched out before her. Rolling green hills sloped smoothly out from the lake’s edge, then gave way to old growth forests. Along the horizon, a distant mountain range was tinted faintly blue by the atmosphere. The only thing that interrupted the natural landscape was a city that would have been at home in any of her favorite fantasy games.

Ancient remnants of stone architecture lay abandoned, overlooked by enormous worn battlements built from white stone. Great brass gates, cast with images of newts, were flanked by huge lines of coral that grew up the walls like ivy. Despite their size, the walls were dwarfed by the citadel at their center, which stood more than twice their height.. Titanic, magenta-colored mushrooms rose like skyscrapers around the citadel; Marcy could just make out that there were gables carved into them.

For a moment Marcy forced herself to consider if this was some trick of perspective; the city couldn't truly be as big as it seemed. However, on closer inspection she saw little buildings that clung to the citadel’s walls, with teeny-tiny windows that marked them as residential buildings. It really was that big.

"Pretty impressive huh?"

Marcy’s jaw dropped, and she found herself speechless... for about twelve seconds.

"Oh. My. Frog! Look how big this is, do you know how much work must have gone into building it?! They would have had to quarry all of that stone and then ferry it to the city by boat! We're talking dozens, no, hundreds of ships! Entire fleets! Which isn't even getting into building the walls. The sheer number of trained masons you would need- and the gates! Are those solid bronze!? Putting aside the amount of copper you would need, the size of the forges themselves -"

Marcy was literally vibrating with excitement, enough that she was shaking Polly like a soda can."Mar-ar-ar-cy pu-u-u-t me-e-e dow-n-n-n!"

Marcy stopped and gently set Polly down on the stairs next to her. "Sorry, sorry." She shot a sheepish grin at her little sister, but her eyes were almost immediately drawn back to the city. She wished she could have arrived under better circ*mstances, but she couldn't help but admire the place. She loved the valley and its rustic architecture, but this was like seeing her dreams spring to life.

She took out her journal and, just for a moment, allowed herself to get lost in sketching out the cityscape before her.

Sasha stretched her neck, leaned back, closed her eyes, and basked in the warm sunlight. She and Yunan were both still on the back of the snail Yunan had commandeered, which, though it lacked the stylishness of her pink riding roach, had been a reliable mount to carry them back to the capital. It had been almost two weeks since her confrontation with the toads and she was ready to sleep in her luxurious room in the castle.

She had thankfully been able to change into clean clothes at one of the outposts they came across. The outfit was loose and ill fitting, but compared to the sweat-stained clothing that she had been wearing before, it was a godsend.

"We're getting close to Newtopia now, it'll be just on the other end of this next hill," Yunan commented. There was an edge of warning in her voice.

"We are." Sasha agreed. She rolled her neck and cracked open one eye. "You're still okay with helping Marcy, right?" Their talk about the exact circ*mstances of what happened up on the mountain pass had gone about as well as Sasha could have hoped. "’Cause it'll just complicate things if we're on different pages."

"I’m conflicted," Yunan admitted. "She did keep me from killing an innocent man... unlike someone I could name." She shot a glare at Sasha.

"Yeah, yeah. My bad." Sasha apologized for what had to be the fiftieth time. "Not my best call."

“But ultimately, yes. I’m willing to help her.” Yunan said, straightening her back.

Sasha nodded. All she had to do now was convince Andrias it would be in his best interest to quietly drop the bounty.

"W̜el͖l ͕̞̰I̘ g̥ues͇̗̟s ̩t̫͖̙h̬̻is̺̠ is͉̩̜ i̫̪̫t..."

Sasha groaned internally as they approached the top of a hill and another headache appeared. At the crest of the hill, the green toad that had been following her stuck out like a sore thumb. Not because of his clothing or posture, though; he looked like he had been badly photoshopped into reality. He was lit from the wrong angle; the fur poking out from his armor fluttered in a breeze that wasn't there. An enormous, hauntingly familiar hammer rested on his shoulder.

Sasha forced herself not to react. This wasn't the first time she had seen the toad since Yunan had pulled her out of that pit. Their entire trip back to the capital she had been having these... visions. No one else could see him. She’d seen people walk straight through him. She'd learned not to acknowledge him around others, Yunan included. The newt was worried enough about her.

The toad continued to stare off at what Sasha realized was Newtopia. He spoke softly to himself, but Sasha could make out his words with startling clarity. "I̤̮'ll̻̟ͅ b͓e ba͇c̗̺͕k ͈̘som̗͎͍e̥͔da͎̥y ̝̰̣Drias. ͙͍Onc̝̝e ̻I͉̦ ͔̪p̖̺̘rov̟ḛ ̲̞͎my̙s̻e̩͚̳ḷ̝̣f͉̼̗." He turned away from the sight and started to walk away. He passed by Sasha’s side of the snail, and she kept him in the corner of her eye until he passed out of sight. Sasha didn't know why this was happening, but she didn't trust it.

"That's a strange-looking bug..." Yunan said. Sasha's attention snapped forward at the sudden remark. Yunan was looking up at the sky. Sasha followed her gaze and saw an out of place white speck soaring above their heads. Sasha strained her eyes to get a good look; a light gust of wind caused its wings to ripple out, and Sasha recognized the shape of a paper airplane.

As they crested the hill, Newtopia and its great lake came into view. Sasha scanned its waters with a critical eye. Her perception had been sharpened throughout her time with Yunan, so it wasn’t difficult to spot what she was looking for. The calm waters of Newtopia had a single traveler: a beat-to-hell wagon hitched to a familiar looking snail. Riding on the back of the wagon was an even more familiar girl, nose inches from her book as she scribbled away.

"They're here!" Sasha said, shaking Yunan's shoulder.

The general jumped to attention, having still been watching the paper airplane. "What? Who? An attack?" She held up a gauntlet and two razor sharp blades shot out.

"No! Anne and Marcy are here!" This made things so much easier! Though if they had come a day later that might have been a bit better, but whatever. She'd talk to Andrias and everything would be fine. "Come on, let's get down there before they get lost in the city," Sasha insisted, and Yunan snapped the reins. Their snail mount plunged into the water at speed and started slithering through the water. Sasha hated to admit it, but she felt a sense of relief. Marcy and Anne were probably the targets of all sorts of bounty hunters, but it looked like they had managed to survive.

As they came within shouting distance, Sasha stood up on the riding bench and yelled across the water. "Hey! Marcy!" She kept her expression casual. Sure, she was still a little angry with her, but there would be plenty of time to needle her for that later. For the moment it was time to get her back in her corner.

Marcy sat in the nearly frozen world considering for the first time that karma might be a tangible force.

Her real body sat a few feet behind her, while her projection sat with her legs over the side of the fwagon. She rubbed her eyes, tired and frustrated.

"Wow! Sasha arrives in Newtopia at the same time as you! What are the odds?" Ram flopped down next to Marcy’s projection and looked across the lake at Sasha, who was trying to wave them down. "I mean, I know - I've run the numbers already. They’re truly astounding. Do you want to hear them?"

Marcy took in a slow breath. "This has to be a nightmare. Please wake me up." Marcy buried her face in her hands. After a moment, she felt a stinging pain in her arm as her double pinched it between two nails. "Ow!" Marcy exclaimed, slapping Ram's hand away. Unlike her actual body, the unpleasant sensation disappeared the instant Ram let go. "What was that for?"

"Sorry. I wanted to quickly establish this wasn't a dream," they explained without malice. "Wallowing in your bad luck will not help the situation. While practice has extended how much we can maintain this, time is still a finite resource."

Marcy frowned, but nodded. "Alright. Thanks, I guess."

"Also," Ram added lightly, "it was funny."

Marcy scowled at her double and then considered them with curiosity. "Have you been getting... sassier?"

"Hm..." Ram puzzled over that for a minute, and then brightened. "Certainly possible!" they agreed, "I have existed for seventy-three days, thirteen hours, twenty-three minutes, and fifty-three seconds. Perhaps I am developing a more complex personality.” They said it like it was a pleasant surprise. “While the implications of that are fun and fascinating, for the moment I think we need to deal with the danger at hand." They gestured towards Sasha. Marcy nodded and hopped down off the fwagon.

"Alright, let’s go over what we know..." Marcy agreed. They both started to walk towards Sasha and Yunan. "So, the last time I saw Sasha, we had left her behind on a mountain under the influence of mind control powder..."

"Not exactly the best way to leave things," Ram agreed.

"I sent that letter to her, but we have no idea if she got it... or if it changed her mind about anything." As Marcy got close it became abundantly clear that Sasha hadn't just let her hair down, she had cut it short. "I wonder why she got her hair cut..." Marcy muttered to herself.

"Diplomacy was kind of a disaster last time. Do we want to try it again?" Ram asked earnestly.

Marcy’s gaze drifted over to the red newt sitting next to Sasha,. She still remembered how tightly she had clutched her cape while dangling her over the edge. She had tried desperately to get Sasha to back down, to listen to her. Marcy thought she had finally gotten through to her, but Anne's empathy sight had seen through Sasha’s lies. "No... too risky. We know that as of two weeks ago, there were still wanted posters being circulated. If she’s changed her mind, she hasn't acted on it." Marcy frowned.

"Alright. Well then, I think that narrows our options considerably."

"Any good options?"

"Eh," Ram made a waffling gesture with her left hand, "this was always kind of a sacrifice play. We probably can't do it on our own if we want to avoid hurting people, though."

"Right..." Marcy looked at Sasha one more time. She didn't seem... angry to see her. Which probably wouldn't last much longer. "So, first thing's first…"

Sasha felt a stirring of fear when she spotted a faint green tint in Marcy’s brown eyes, but it quickly gave way to incredulity as Marcy yelled something up at the squirt driving the wagon before she ducked inside. The boy snapped the reins and the wagon lurched forward through the gates of the city and out of sight.

"Oh," Sasha snarled, "you have got to be kidding me." She felt the anger she had buried just beneath the surface roar to life again.

"Don't worry. Not my first time chasing a human through the streets of Newtopia. Hyah!" Yunan kicked their own snail into high gear. They rushed up and through the gates; as they passed through, a couple of city guards saluted them and Sasha pointed at them.

"Close all the gates!" she barked, but didn't waste time to see if they complied. She could see the wagon... boat? Driving up the main road. Whatever it was, it was easy to pick them out from the crowd. Yunan nimbly steered their snail through the crowd, most of which had already parted in the wake of the strangely shaped cart. For a moment Sasha thought that they were heading straight for the castle, and her stomach dropped. Then, about two blocks away from the lowest entrance, the purple snail at the front of the wagon veered off onto an intersecting street, almost toppling it over on its side as it briefly stood on two wheels.

Without a wagon to slow them down, Sasha and Yunan rapidly closed the distance. Once they were almost on top of their quarry, Sasha stood in the driving seat and braced herself to leap onto the back of the ramshackle wagon to put an end to this. However, just as she got within jumping distance, she saw a small window in the back of the cart open, and a hand tossed out a few pouches that hit the ground and exploded into giant clouds of smoke. Screams and chaos were called up from the pedestrians all around the road. Yunan tried to blow through it, but their old snail started to hack and cough on the smoke and slowed.

Sasha and Yunan both hopped out of the driving bench to push through the smoke. They made it through the smoke, but despite the chaos left in the wake of the wagon, there was no obvious sign of which way it had gone. "I'll go high!" Yunan called. She dashed towards the tallest building on the street, and started to scale the wall. Sasha growled in frustration and broke into a run. She felt a familiar power start to flow through her limbs, and she nearly tripped as one of her feet punched straight into the cobblestone street. Her gaze darted back and forth as she crossed each intersection in her search for the garbage wagon.

She heard a high pitched whistle from above and looked up to see Yunan, who pointed off towards Sasha’s left. "That way!"

Sasha started to sprint that way, calling every guard she saw to help close off escape routes. Within a few minutes, they had cornered the old wagon on a dead end street. She saw the little pink frog that had been driving the cart get spooked and jump into the wagon's interior. Sasha heard the sound of the door being shut and barred. Sasha wanted to charge forward, but held the guard back as Yunan caught up. They made eye contact and nodded. Sasha stood back as Yunan stepped forward and kicked open the front door, arm already up to cover her mouth.

Predictably, a cloud of smoke exploded from inside the wagon. The sly pink frog was chuckling to himself as he emerged from the roof's trap door, wearing that weird beak Sasha had seen Marcy wearing back on the mountain. Before he could get any farther Sasha jumped up onto the roof next to him and grabbed him by the back of the neck like a misbehaving cat.

He looked sheepishly up at Sasha. "Oh, hey Sasha! Funny running into you here?" He tittered anxiously. “ Love the haircut.”

"Hello again, Squirt," Sasha said with a smirk. She held Sprig up and looked down into the still smoke filled cabin of the wagon, "Anne, Marcy, you can come out now. I got your little friend here. I just want to talk." Sasha waited a few moments as the smoke started to dissipate, but then realized there was remarkably little coughing or sound coming from inside the cabin.

Her suspicion was confirmed when Yunan finally stepped out. "No one else here!"

Sasha held up Sprig in front of her and scowled at him. "Where are my friends, Squirt?"

Marcy sat crouched in the alleyway, arms curled around Polly. She waited until Sasha’s thundering footfalls receded into the distance, then slowly got to her feet. She strained under the weight of her shoulder bag, as well as the improvised rope harness she’d looped over her back to carry Petey. She pulled her hood up and poked her head out into the street. She set out in the direction Sasha had come from, walking as quickly as she could manage without drawing undue attention.

"Are you sure Sprig'll be alright on his own?" Hop Pop asked. He balanced on her shoulder, hidden by her hood.

"I think so... as long as he follows my instructions and doesn’t try to fight them." Marcy felt nervous sending Sprig off on his own with the fwagon, but she hadn’t had enough other options to work with. "There is a reason I originally planned to do this alone, you know," she whispered.

"So what's the plan now?" Polly asked as they found their way back to the main boulevard.

"Well... first off. Hop Pop, I know the Plantars’ value honesty, but-" Marcy started awkwardly.

"Marcy, if it will keep you alive, lie as much as you need," Hop Pop assured. "Integrity is important, but not at the cost of your life."

Marcy let out a sigh of relief. "Good, cause I'm gonna be bending the truth, like, a lot."

"So what's the plan?" Polly asked. "Storm the castle? Ambush the guards? Force our way in and demand justice?!"

"No, we don't need to add assaulting the guard onto our rap sheet. We're in enough trouble as it is." Marcy shook her head. "We're going to go explain things to the king and hope he believes us."

"Oh..." Polly deflated a bit, clearly disappointed. "Why am I here with you then?"

"Cause you would fight Sasha on sight."

“I mean, yeah, but can you blame me? Your Earth friends are the worst," Polly lamented.

Marcy frowned at that, but couldn't comment as Hop Pop started talking in her ear. "So how exactly are you planning to get to the king? I doubt he's the type to just take walk-ins from wanted fugitives."

"Well," Marcy started, "my original plan was to find some place to hunker down in the city. Then from there try to figure out the best way in. Sneaking in, disguising, paying off officials; whatever we needed to get a meeting..."

"Well, that does sound prudent..." Hop Pop agreed.

"And boring," Polly complained.

"Unfortunately, we don't have time for all that anymore. Now that Sasha knows we're here, she'll pin us down in a matter of hours, a day at the most. We don't know this city well enough to hide and don't have any money to pay someone who does."

"Huh," Hop Pop said with a worried tone. "So then, what's the plan exactly?" Hop Pop paused, then grew alarmed. "Marcy, why are you walking straight for the gates of the castle? Marcy?"

"Shh..." Marcy hushed. "Hide in my hood." Marcy approached the two newts guarding the castle gate. They didn't wear the more simple garb of the army or guard, instead sporting rich turquoise cloaks with a gold trim. The newts looked lean but athletic and held spears at attention as Marcy approached.

"Halt! Who-"

"Hi there! I'm Marcy!" She pulled her hood down, revealing her human features. "I'm a friend of Sasha, oh, I mean Captain Waybright. She's dealing with some kind of runaway wagon?” She pointed a thumb over her shoulder. “But she sent me on ahead, could you point us in the direction of the throne room? We're supposed to be meeting with King Andrias!"

Sprig had Marcy's instructions to not put up a fight, but he had not been prepared for how intimidating Sasha could be.

"Well Squirt? Where are they?"

"Honestly? Don't know. Marcy said you'd probably shake it out of me if I did?" Sprig answered honestly. Marcy barely had time to explain the plan to him. Only that he should ride the fwagon as far as he could and then try to hide it.

Sasha's eyes bore into Sprig’s with such intensity that it sent a chill down his spine. After a moment, she relaxed, apparently satisfied that Sprig was telling the truth. “Ugh…” She stepped off the side of the wagon to land neatly next to Yunan.

Yunan waved away the smoke before asking, "So, should I set the guard loose to go find them?"

"No... it's fine, they're just panicking. If anything this buys us time to get the pardon ready. A full manhunt will only make that more complicated. They'll come for the squeaky toy eventually." Sasha held Sprig up to an unimpressed looking general.

Sprig waved awkwardly, "Uh, hi! I helped with the ropes that kept you from falling to your death." Both of the women scowled at Sprig and he quickly clammed up and kept his mouth shut.

Sasha sent Yunan ahead to request an audience with the king. Then she spent a few moments dispersing the guard, explaining that it had been an accident and that she would escort Sprig back to his family. Sprig was confused; it sounded like she was covering for him. She even arranged for a few of the guards to watch over the fwagon for the night. Soon it was just him and Sasha as she tucked Sprig under her arm and started back towards Main Street.

Sprig stayed silent for a minute or two, but quickly got bored. "Hey, what's a pardon?"

Sasha glanced down at Sprig, rolling her eyes. "It's when someone with authority forgives a crime or dismisses it instead of a court or whatever. How do you not know what a pardon is?"

"Oh it's one of those legal things," Sprig said, understanding now why he hadn't heard of it. "Yeah, in the valley the law is whatever the toads decide to enforce or whatever the mob feels is right." Marcy had been working on changing that, but unlike her gizmos, giving up the tradition of the angry mob was less readily accepted.

"Oh... huh." Sasha paused, her scowl lessened as she continued to walk.

"So... what'd you do if you need a pardon?" Sprig asked curiously.

"It's not for me,” Sasha growled, “it's for your grandfather."

"For Hop Pop? But I thought you wanted to kill him!" Sprig accused, a little too loudly as they got some worrying looks from the newts around them. Sasha stared them all down and they quickly decided to lose interest.

"First of all, you talking plush doll, I didn't want to do anything of the sort. It was an assignment. As far as we knew, he was just some murder happy frog out in the boonies. Then later it was to protect Marcy," Sasha explained, rubbing at her eyes with her free hand. "But since apparently she'd rather get herself killed then let him take the fall, I'm gonna have to ask the king for a favor." Sprig could hear the frustration in her voice as she spoke.

"Huh... thanks, I think?" Sprig said, not sure how he felt, but it sounded like they were on the same side now. "So, uh, am I going to be put in jail?"

"If you keep pestering me with questions? Sure," Sasha answered impatiently. "Otherwise, I have a room set aside in the castle for Marcy. You can stay there until she comes to get you."

"Oh, thanks."

"Uh huh." Sasha’s tone was dismissive, but Sprig felt like he was starting to see why Marcy was friends with her. They came out of a side street and emerged onto the main road that led to the castle; it was only a block or two away now. Sprig stayed silent, not wanting to press his luck, but Then Sasha spoke again. "Hey... Spring?"

"Sprig," he corrected.

"Right. So when we first met back in the valley, you said you helped break Marcy out of Toad Tower, right? The one under Grime's control?" Sprig nodded. Sasha took a steadying breath and sighed, then spoke with surprising softness. “Thanks for that. Things could’ve gone… really bad, if you hadn’t.”

This whole conversation kept veering away from what he had been expecting. "Of course..." Maybe Sasha wasn’t so bad after all.

They finally reached the gates of the castle where two guards saluted Sasha with respectful nods. Sasha waved off the greeting and they both relaxed, stoic and unconcerned that Sasha was carrying Sprig like light luggage. As they were about to pass by, one spoke up. "Welcome back captain and congratulations on finding your friend. We sent her in ahead of you."

Sasha paused in her stride, before looking back at them. "Where?"

"To the throne room?" they said, confused by the tone in Sasha's voice.

Sprig could see Sasha's mind racing as she processed the new information. She stalked away from the two guards, hissing down at Sprig. "Squirt. What did you come to Newtopia for?"

There was an urgency and worry in her voice that gave Sprig pause before he answered, "Marcy said she was going to get Hop Pop off the hook for the whole mess. Get a 'pardon' I guess?"

Sprig hadn't totally understood Marcy's plan, but he had trusted that it was the best option available to them. However, as he watched Sasha's eyes widen with clear panic another thought came to mind - Marcy saying that she was willing to do anything for their family. He started to feel a worry bubble in his gut as Sasha broke out into a sprint across the courtyard towards the castle’s entrance.

"Oh... well, I guess that makes sense..." Marcy said, meekly scratching at the back of her head. She was speaking to the guards just outside the throne room, in front of a pair of towering twenty foot bronze doors. "I guess I can go back and explain to Captain Waybright why I'm late... What were your names again?" She asked, pointing between the two guards, who abruptly stiffened at her words.

They glanced at one another, and seemed to have a silent conversation, before they both straightened and the one on the right spoke. "There was likely some mistake, the current petitioners should be finished in just a few minutes..." he spoke the words with authority, but Marcy heard the wariness in his tone.

"Thank you. Sorry for the trouble." Marcy conceded with the brightest smile her nauseous stomach could manage. She stepped back to stand against the wall. Marcy looked around at the absolute grandeur that surrounded her.

It had taken all her willpower to not get sidetracked by the castle’s artistry and architecture. By her calculations it had to be the height of a skyscraper, only wider and built out of stone and metal. The logistics of it buzzed in her mind; if everything went well, she could always consult Ram about it later, but for the moment she had to keep her focus on the task at hand. All she had to do now was stride into the throne room of the most powerful person on the continent, tell him that his kingdom had the wrong idea about her grandfather and ask for his mercy.

Marcy was dragged out of her thoughts by a ticklish sensation on her neck. She suppressed an involuntary giggle as Hop Pop clambered up the back of her neck. Mindful of the guards still standing by the door, she held Polly up so that it would look like they were talking. Once Hop Pop was in a position to whisper to her without being seen, he spoke softly. "Are you ready for all of this, Marcy?"

"No..." Marcy admitted, "but it's a little late to back out now." She shrugged. After a moment she asked, "Hop Pop, are you sure you want me to unshrink you in there?" In her pocket, Marcy patted her pocket that housed the little vial of curse antidote she had helped Sprig make. "I can-"

"We've talked about this, Marcy," Hop Pop scolded gently. "I'm not comfortable with you doing all this for me on your own."

"But..."

"I'm sure," Hop Pop insisted.

Polly chose this moment to pipe up. "Wait, is this not a sure thing?"

"Not exactly," Marcy said, "just our best option..."

Before Polly could voice any further distaste for the plan, the door to the throne room opened up. Three newts in similar looking garb came out through the door, holding books and bickering with one another as they passed by Marcy, paying her no mind. The guards gestured for her to go through, and she waited a beat for Hop Pop to again hide in her hood before walking through the entryway. The hall was enormous, which was a pattern she had noticed throughout the entire castle. It wasn't so strange for a royal residence to be over engineered to inspire awe, but it felt like every room and hallway was built at three times the scale it needed to be.

The throne room was no different; great marble columns held up massive vaulted ceilings, each column decorated with a carved serpent coiled around it. Between the series of columns was a path of sky blue marble. There were sconces for lightshrooms, but at the moment all the light filtered through tall stained glass windows that stretched out from either side of the throne. Her eyes focused on the throne itself, which sat upon a massive slab of crystal that had coral growing over it like ivy. It was flanked on either side by newts in ceremonial full plate armor, and a number of courtiers milled about, caught in discussions that Marcy couldn't make out.

It took Marcy a moment to identify the king, as her eyes flicked between the various newts at the foot of the throne, her mind finally registered the titanic being who sat on the throne itself when he stretched out his arms. His voice boomed through the halls. "Alright, now that was the last of the meetings right?" He flexed his neck and shoulders as though he had just finished a particularly exhausting study session, and the crack of his bones was loud enough to echo throughout the hall. He was also the first person to notice that they had a guest. His eyes regarded Marcy and Polly with some degree of interest. "Ah, well, this is certainly a surprise," he commented, "I thought we were done until the afternoon." The courtiers stopped their conversation to look over at Marcy.

Marcy tentatively stepped towards the enormous monarch. He was dressed in battle-worn armor and rich silks, and wore a crown that looked more prehistoric than regal. She tapped out a rhythm on her arms to soothe her nerves before she spoke up. "Greetings, your majesty, I'm sorry to just drop in on you like this," Marcy said, slipping Petey’s pot from her back to set him on the ground next to her

"Nonsense, this is the most interesting thing to happen today! Did you come with Sasha? I was wondering when she would make it back to the capital..."

Marcy paused; from his tone it sounded like Sasha hadn't come back for a pretty long time. "Kind of? She's in the city, but we didn't travel together. I came here on my own initiative to ask for your aid."

The king raised his brow at that, but gestured for her to continue.

"I am here on behalf of Hopediah Planter of Frog Valley. There has been a terrible mistake." Marcy tried to project her voice so it wouldn't be lost in the massive audience chamber.

Andrias's brow furrowed at that, but he looked more thoughtful than anything. "Ah yes... Some traitor out in the valley, right? What kind of mistake?" Andrias's words were weighty as he considered the scraped up human in front of him.

Marcy really wished she had time to get a proper change of clothes before this meeting, or at least a shower.

"Yes, I have evidence here-" she unzipped her bag and opened it up, revealing dozens of papers she had hauled all the way from the valley, "-proving his innocence." She began pulling out witness testimonies of Toadstool's attempt at stealing the election, along with some examples of the forged and moth eaten notes. She had a copy of the valley's charter with the section about the establishment of a militia highlighted.

"I see... in hiding, no doubt. Did he send you in his stead?" The king’s voice was tinged with judgment.

Marcy took a moment to breathe; this was the point of no return. She felt a little weight on her shoulder and looked down to see Hop Pop nodding for her to go ahead. She pinched him by the back of his vest and gently deposited him on the ground. She heard some confused chattering among the courtiers but did her best to ignore them as she pulled out the curse antidote she helped Sprig make, and poured it over Hop Pop. Her grandfather rapidly grew back to his normal size, eliciting gasps of surprise from the other people in the room, and a raised brow from Andrias.

Hop Pop struggled for a moment to regain his bearings as a normal sized frog, and paused to marvel at the room around him. "Wow... it really is just that big..." He quickly oriented himself towards Andrias, put his hands behind his back, and bowed deeply. "Your majesty, it's an honor, though I wish it was under better circ*mstances."

"Please," Marcy begged, dropping into a bow of her own, "if you let me explain, I can prove he's innocent…"

Marcy was allowed to make her case. She presented every bit of crinkled evidence she had hauled from the valley. Explained all the minor crimes that Hop Pop had been accused of. Half of her argument was made to the king and the other half towards his advisor, one Lady Olivia. She seemed pleasant enough; Marcy was more worried about the king.

Lady Olivia, who was standing at the center of the debate, held up her hand to silence her helpers and turned to the king. "Everything does appear to be as she says…” Lady Olivia said, voice tinged with doubt. “ If these documents can be trusted."

Andrias's took in all of the evidence with a look of indifference, back straight, arms resting firmly on his throne. "So if I understand this right, mayor ... When you heard of these accusations, you fled from the valley with your family. But! So convinced of your own innocence, rather than try to scurry away and find someplace to hide, you instead decided to come here. To the seat of my power…" his voice rumbled, "...and plead your case directly?" Andrias took a short breath and with half lidded eyes, gave a gentle shake of his head. "I'm sorry, I'm not sure I can believe it..."

Marcy felt a wave of dread fall over her shoulders. So that was it. Game Over. "But- but-" Marcy scrambled for something to say, ready to plead her case to the bitter end, but her voice was raw and her throat tightened as she fought to suppress tears.

"I mean..." Andrias said, voice suddenly much lighter than before, “an honest man in politics?” His mask of judgment fell away to be replaced by an amused smile. He leaned forward. “You have to be pulling my leg!" He let out a bellowing laugh before slapping his knee so hard that it let out a thunderclap.

Marcy felt such a wave of relief at the decision that her knees nearly buckled. She let out a short laugh, lightheaded as a month's worth of tension evaporated all at once.

As Marcy recovered her faculties, Hop Pop stepped forward to respond. "No, no joke your majesty. Us Plantars are known for our honesty. You can ask anyone in the valley."

"Well, it helps that your advocate has built a pretty thorough case. You justified the need and right for that militia of yours, disproved the lies about the election, and you even had receipts for your outstanding parking tickets. There are just one or two things that we still need to discuss..."

"Yeah, anything," Marcy offered gladly.

"First of all, I believe an introduction is in order. I’m not one for formalities, but pleasantries still go a long way. I am, as you are well aware, Andrias Leviathan." Andrias spoke with a casual air that Marcy was still adjusting to.

Marcy felt her face flush a little at the very simple misstep. She’d just burst in without even explaining herself.

Her grandfather, head bowed, decided to take the lead. "Hopediah Plantar, your majesty."

“A pleasure. It’ll be nice to have someone a bit closer to my age around here.”

Next the little pollywog at Marcy's feet raised a flipper. "Polly Petunia Plantar, nice to meet ya!"

“A pleasure, young one.” Andrias turned his attention to Marcy who was still thinking over her own introduction.

"I’m…" Marcy was hesitant for a moment, rubbing at one arm. "I’m Marcy Regina Plantar." Her cheeks warmed a little in embarrassment, but she was reassured as Hop Pop and Polly looked up at her, clearly touched.

Then what felt like a sandbag collided with her shoulder and stuck there, and she looked back, shocked to find Sprig there. He grinned at Marcy, then turned to Andrias and gave an awkward half bow from Marcy’s shoulder. “And I’m Sprig Plantar!”

“Sprig,” Marcy whispered, “where did you…” she turned back towards the door and made eye contact with Sasha, standing there, looking a little dumbfounded. Marcy bit her lip and waved weakly.

Sasha stared at Marcy in bafflement. She tried to puzzle out if claiming to be part of this family was genuine or some kind of ploy to win the sympathies of the crowd, but her train of thought was derailed by the overgrown salamander speaking up again.

“Ha! Well met then, Plantar family,” he said warmly. “Unless there are more of you hiding about?”

“No, no, that’s all of us,” Hop Pop assured, patting Marcy on the hip.

Marcy looked at Sprig, still surprised, then finally turned to make eye contact with Sasha. Marcy looked apprehensive and apologetic. Sasha sighed, but offered her a small smile and a neutral wave. Loath as she was to admit it, it looked like Marcy had the situation well in hand. Marcy smiled back for a moment, but the pain behind her eyes made it feel hollow.

"Well met, all of you," Andrias spoke, dragging all attention back to him. "However, there is one last thing left to discuss... that being the troubling report of what happened at the Southern Tower." Sasha saw Sprig flinch, but Marcy just took a deep breath. Andrias continued. "Seeing him in person, I find it doubtful that Hopediah was some mastermind plotting its destruction. Still, I would like to know if you have any insights into the event."

Sasha stepped next to Marcy as a sign of solidarity. It was officially too late for Sasha to sweep this whole thing under the rug, but she could at least help sell whatever lie Marcy would need to weave. It also allowed her to keep an eye on Marcy’s expression.

Marcy carefully tucked her hands behind her back. "That… is a really tragic misunderstanding," Marcy explained. "But Hop Pop had nothing to do with it."

"A misunderstanding?" Lady Olivia asked, eyebrows raised.

"I think it's best I start at the beginning…” Marcy offered and Andrias nodded. “I'd been staying with the Plantars in the small town of Wartwood for almost two months when tax collectors from the tower came by. They were taking collateral from everyone in town."

"From everyone? They are only meant to collect collateral from those who didn't pay their taxes," Lady Olivia said with a frown.

Marcy nodded in agreement. "Right. It didn't add up, and after a little investigation I discovered that the mayor- the old mayor that is, Mayor Toadstool- had embezzled all the tax money and hidden it away, leaving the townsfolk to shoulder the burden instead," she explained. She grimaced bitterly. "When I tried to expose this, the tower toads decided to arrest me on flimsy charges. I learned later the captain had a less than ideal run in with our other friend, Anne," Marcy said, as she gestured briefly to Sasha. “And he had given standing orders to arrest any human on sight.”

Andrias nodded and frowned thoughtfully as Marcy continued.

"Anyways, they brought me back to the tower, confiscated my belongings, and kept me in a jail cell. The lord of the tower, Captain Grime, interrogated me. He seemed... obsessed with humans? Like I said, he had a run in with our... our friend Anne. I didn't know what he wanted to know, and he threatened to use me as live bait in the tower’s monster hunts."

Sasha winced and many of the audience gasped at the toads’ brutality.

"So you were there on the day the tower fell?"

Marcy hesitated and bit her lip. “I was. The second night I spent in the tower, a few of my friends from Wartwood came to help me escape.” Marcy glanced gratefully at Sprig, who returned her look with one of concern. “They helped me get out of my cell and we tried to sneak out... but things didn’t quite work out that way. We made it to the ground floor before we were spotted and an alarm was raised. We got as far as the outer walls, but we were cornered..."

"So were you the creature that the reports described? That summoned the monsters?" Andrias asked. Sasha stood on pins and needles for Marcy’s response. If she just confessed then-

"That is where the misunderstanding comes in. It’s… a long story,” Marcy said, rubbing the back of her head. “You see, well, I've been studying magic while in the valley. One of my projects involved the domestication of tomato plants." Marcy explained, gesturing down at the venus flytrap looking thing next to her.

"Domestication?" Sasha muttered under her breath. How did you tame a plant?

Olivia’s eyes went wide. "Tomato plants!?" she said, scandalized. However, none of the other courtiers seemed shocked by the words. At everyone else's questioning stares she elaborated. "Tomato plants are carnivorous and eat amphibians," she explained patiently. She turned to focus on Marcy. "You’ve been taming them?" Her eyes studied the weird plant and then, apparently impressed, added, “You’ve tamed them?”

Marcy nodded. ”This one here is Petey, my most recent attempt."

"Interest in botany aside..." Andrias interrupted, "what does this have to do with the events at the tower?"

"Well, my earlier attempts were… less than ideal. When they confiscated my belongings, the toads also came into the possession of a handful of my prototype seeds. I don’t know if it was out of curiosity or a love of gardening, but one of them must have planted them. That night, shortly after we arrived at the top of the wall, both seeds sprouted up and started to wreak havoc."

“They sprouted in such a short time?” Lady Olivia interjected.

“Magic - a potion I developed so I could iterate on my techniques quicker.”

"I see. And the herons?" Andrias commented.

"With the alarms and the uproar over the rapidly growing tomato plants, they were drawn in by the commotion," Marcy said with a frown.

“The herons have been a problem in the valley for years…” Hop Pop added, and Sasha noticed Sprig and Polly frown at some memory.

Sasha heard hums of pity at the terrible circ*mstances. Something here didn’t feel right. She carefully maintained a neutral expression as she tried to puzzle it out. The story flowed naturally from what Sasha had known about the events prior to the valley, but it absolutely didn't match the teary confession Marcy had given on the mountainside prior to their fight. Sasha remembered the hollow drone of Marcy’s voice as she recounted her actions at the tower. She and Anne had both comforted her about it.

Then Sasha spotted the tell. Marcy's hands, carefully hidden behind her back. The nails from her right hand dug painfully into the wrist of her left. Sasha glanced back to Marcy's face, which remained a mask of apologetic concern.

She was lying. Absolutely masterfully. Sasha felt impressed, even a little proud.

“Unfortunately, the timing of the events led the toads to believe that I was responsible, or in control of what happened,” Marcy continued, “Hop Pop found me injured outside the walls and carried me away, which made them think he had masterminded everything.”

Andrias’ attention shifted to Hopediah. "And what were you doing at the tower?"

"I had come to beg for her freedom," the old frog insisted, hand over his heart. "When I saw what was happening I took Marcy and the kids and got them to safety."

"I see... a tragic misunderstanding." Andrias echoed Marcy's earlier comment. Andrias shifted his attention to Sasha. "What insight do you have into all this?"

Marcy’s eyes darted to meet Sasha’s, and Sasha saw a mixture of fear and regret; the same pained regret as when she and Anne had left Sasha helpless on top of the mountain.

Sasha stepped forward, back rigid and proud as she made her report. "While I can’t comment on the events of the night in question, I can comment on Captain Grime’s obsession with humans," Sasha said, as her hands clenched into fists. "After the Plantars managed to slip out of the valley, I was ambushed and captured by Grime and his subordinates." Sasha watched as Marcy's eyes widened and the blood drained from her face. Sasha returned the stare briefly before looking back at Andrias. "I was transported as a prisoner to the Eastern Tower. I was able to narrowly fight my way out, which is what delayed our return to the capital."

Marcy looked ready to rush to comfort Sasha, but hesitated, apparently unsure if it would be welcome.

She didn't get the chance one way or the other however as Andrias slammed his fist down on the armrest of the throne. "They did what!?" His voice boomed with indignant fury, and most of the audience stepped away, startled by the explosion of anger. Lady Olivia excepted, who weathered the words with dignity. "He dared ambush a captain of the Newtopian Army? The audacity- no. No…” Andrias made a show of reigning himself in. “Perhaps this is my fault. I’ve grown too complacent here in the capital. I have not held a tight enough leash on the toads." Andrias shook his head, before turning to look at his advisor. "Olivia, organize a survey of the toad lands in every direction. Keep it discreet, but I want an account of any abuses of power the toads perpetrate. In addition, I want a bounty drawn up for Captain- former Captain Grime immediately."

"Of course, my liege." Olivia nodded, gathered several of her lackies and began to organize things.

Finally, Andrias' attention returned to the Plantars, who all waited in pensive silence for his judgment. "Plantars, I thank you for bringing this grave injustice to my attention. While I would love to simply send you on your way, I will do my due diligence. While my aides look over the evidence you have brought and confirm your innocence, I will ask you to remain here within the walls of Newtopia. Your living expenses will be covered while you remain in the city."

Hop Pop nodded, bowing again. "Thank you, your highness, we will wait as long as it takes to clear the Plantar family name."

"Good. Your patience is appreciated. For now, however, you have had a long and no doubt difficult journey to Newtopia. Rest for the night. We can speak again in the morning. Olivia..."

The regal newt sent her worker bees off to get Andrias' latest whim sorted before turning her attention back to him. "Yes, your majesty?"

"Would you please guide our new guests to the suite we set aside for Sasha's friends?"

Lady Olivia took a calming breath as she regarded the backwood frogs. "It would be my pleasure. If you all would please follow me." Lady Olivia gestured towards the door.

Sprig hopped off of Marcy's shoulder and picked up his sister to follow after Hop Pop. Marcy hesitated and looked at Sasha questioningly.

Sasha moved to follow as well; the two of them had plenty to talk about. However, before she could make it more than a few steps, the king’s grating voice called out. "Ah, Captain Waybright,” he said, standing up from his throne. “I would have a word with you in private. A report on that project we discussed. Everyone else, dismissed." The crowd, eager after their break had been interrupted by the sudden appearance of another human, gladly started to disperse.

Marcy seemed conflicted, but Sasha waved her off. "I'll come find you after."

Marcy's eyes flicked to the notch in Sasha's right ear before she nodded and jogged to catch up to the Plantars.

Sasha followed Andrias to a small side room attached to the audience chamber, a study clearly built with the newt in mind. He held its massive doors open for Sasha and then closed them behind them. He retrieved a chipped old chalice and filled it with some kind of wine. Once they were alone, Andrias' smile did not waver, but his kindly eyes squinted just mockingly enough to get under Sasha's skin.

Sasha only scowled back in anger.

Andrias chuckled. "So… the reunion didn't go how you hoped, eh champ?"

"Ya think?" Sasha shot back. “Your little toad crony complicated things.”

Andrias nodded. “Yes, apologies, I’ll be sure to have his head.” Andrias waved his hand dismissively. “Now tell me, what news do you have of the music box?”

“Not much. Things went sideways pretty much immediately after we arrived with a death sentence for the old frog,” Sasha said bitterly.

“And you couldn’t handle it?” Andrias criticized, “I thought you said your friends would follow your lead?”

“There are limits, they…” Sasha paused before elaborating that they had fought against her. “They slipped away when we were tossing the town, and then I was ambushed.”

"’They’? So both of your friends were in that valley? What good news. I was worried for you for a while there..." Andrias said neutrally. He took a slow sip of his drink before falling back into a giant red plush armchair. “Ahhh… you know it’s nice and imposing, but that throne is awfully uncomfortable. ”

"My condolences.” Sasha rolled her eyes. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, can I go find out what Marcy knows? Or do you need to taunt me some more?”

"No, that’s enough for today, I suppose," Andrias bantered back. "Go, talk to your friend." Andrias rolled his neck. Sasha turned, walked to the door and pushed it open a crack before Andrias piped up again. “I am sorry for your friend’s hardships back in the valley…” Sasha paused in the doorway. “I certainly hope we don’t find anything in our investigation. It would be such a shame for anything to happen to that little frog family of hers…”

Sasha felt a chill go down her spine as she gave a curt nod of acknowledgement and stalked outside.

The sound of a small ringing bell followed after her as Andrias called out. "Alright, enough work, what do I want for dinner?" The servants swarmed around Sasha as she made a beeline for the main door to the throne room.

Her hands tightened into fists as she walked. This was the exact nightmare scenario she had worried about. Now that she was sure Marcy wasn’t going to be executed, she was going to strangle her.

Yunan was waiting for her in the hallway.

"Captain? Where are you off to?" Yunan asked, stepping into pace behind Sasha as she stormed past.

"To have a little talk with Marcy," Sasha responded hotly.

"Are you sure that's wise at this moment?"

"Oh I think after today I've more than earned it." Before Sasha could get more than a few steps she felt a hand grasp her shoulder.

"Alright, we need to talk." Yunan opened the nearest door to reveal a small room packed with bookshelves and tables full of paperwork. "Clear the room, we need it for a minute."

Sasha spotted a little newt bureaucrat behind the table looking up, clearly insulted. "What? This is my private office, you can't just- woah!" Yunan reached over the table, grabbed the official by the collar, and then hauled him out the door before depositing him on the ground.

Yunan closed the door in his face and turned her attention back to Sasha, who stood with her arms crossed. Sasha raised an impatient eyebrow. But Yunan didn’t speak, just stood there with a patient expression. Sasha waited for what felt like an eternity before she snapped. “What do you want, Yunan? I have things to deal with.”

“Breathe, captain,” Yunan ordered with the same tone and urgency as when they were on missions together.

Sasha inhaled sharply, suddenly acutely aware of how wound up she was. She forced herself to slow her breathing and relax. Once she had calmed, she refocused her attention on her friend. “Okay. What do you need?”

“I wanted to offer my council.” Yunan said seriously.

“Why?”

“When working together you often voiced when you thought I was making a mistake, and I wanted to return the favor.”

That was a charitable way to characterize Sasha calling her an idiot sometimes. “What mistake do you think I’m making?”

“First, let me confirm: You wish to mend your friendship with Marcy, correct?”

Sasha scoffed. “Yeah. Obviously.” Marcy was her partner in crime, often literally.

“Then you need to calm down,” Yunan reprimanded in a tone Sasha hadn’t heard since her training. “I don’t know what kind of dynamic you had in your world, but it seems to have changed, and you’ll need to adapt if you want to salvage this.”

“You just don’t get our group.” Sasha argued defiantly. “Those two need me. I-”

“You sure about that?” Yunan said with a raised brow.

Sasha paused and thought back to that night when both Anne and Marcy had left her behind. She gestured in front of her defiantly. “Just because I made one misstep-”

“You were in the wrong, Sasha,” Yunan said with a frown. “You need to internalize that.”

“We’ve had this conversation already, I know. It’s why you know about any of this.”

“You know it, but you don’t believe it,” Yunan corrected. “You’re still seething over it. That they defied you. That you lost.” Before Sasha could argue, she added, “You can just end it.” The blunt suggestion caught Sasha off guard. “That night was a mess, and friendships have ended for less.” Yunan waited a few moments for the possibility to really sink in.

Sasha’s shoulders trembled; she knew Yunan was right. If that was an option for Sasha, then it might be one Anne and Marcy were considering. Her mind flashed to Marcy’s panic upon seeing her outside the walls, and the pained expression sent her way in the throne room.

Seeing the gears finally start to turn in Sasha’s head, Yunan’s expression softened and she gently placed a hand on her protoge’s shoulder. “If that’s what you want, then I wouldn’t blame you. But I also know how important those two are to you. So if you want to end it, make sure that it’s a decision you make, and not one your anger makes for you.”

Sasha took in another deep breath, then let it out slowly. "Right. Right. Okay. Point taken," Sasha said and then grumbled under her breath, “thanks…”

"Of course." Yunan assured, letting go and gesturing for them to step outside. "I had servants bring some food to your room and draw up one of those ‘baths’ you enjoy so much."

"That sounds… really nice," Sasha agreed as they left the little office.

Marcy sat down on the plush four-poster bed that dominated the room. Their quarters were lavishly decorated and fully furnished. In one corner, just underneath a window, was an ornate hardwood writing desk, carved with images of robed newts carrying weighty tomes. A large bookshelf lined one wall, stocked with a variety of heavy-looking books and tightly rolled scrolls. All of the furniture was pushed against the walls, leaving ample room to pace and maneuver. Marcy’s socked toes curled against the plush carpeting, which looked recently added - actually, now that Marcy thought about it, it was the only carpeting she’d seen in the castle, which mostly used long rugs to insulate its residents feet from the hard cobblestone.

The open floor plan soon became cluttered as servants hurried to prepare the room to house her three family members. Servants moved about the room in a graceful dance. They brought in cots and a dining table while dusting, setting sheets, and offering snacks.

It had been a few hours since their impromptu meeting with the king, and Marcy had spent most of it in a state of shock. It worked. The king had believed her about Grime and the tower. They'd be free to go home as soon as the investigation concluded.

Marcy smiled as she watched Sprig and Polly bounce around the room, repeatedly getting in the way of the servants who were trying to set things up. Hop Pop tried to wrangle them, but he just ended up getting in the way himself. As the last of the servants exited in a huff, Lady Olivia looked on with the patience of a saint. "Please, enjoy your stay. If you need anything, ring this bell and a servant will be with you shortly."

"Thank you, Lady Olivia. Your hospitality is most appreciated," Hop Pop said. He turned to yell at Sprig and Polly, who were jumping on their respective beds. "Kids!"

"Thank you, Lady Olivia," Sprig and Polly chorused, in the universal put-upon tone of children forced to be polite.

Marcy looked up and smiled at the newt. "Thank you for your time, Lady Olivia. I know you must be busy." Even from what limited insight she had seen of the operations of the castle thus far, it was clear that Lady Olivia was the axle that everything else turned upon.

Lady Olivia regarded Marcy appreciatively for a moment, though her eyes kept glancing warily at Petey, who sat on a nearby bed stand. “I’m sure we will run into each other again, but for now, I will leave you all to rest. A pleasant night to you all.” She politely dipped her head. She left, and a butler closed the door behind her.

Once the four of them were alone, Marcy let out a slow, relieved breath as she fell back onto the bed, letting its soft down comforter consume her. She closed her eyes against the world. Every part of her was exhausted, but she had done it. After a month, her family was safe. She wanted nothing more than to sleep for the next week.

Marcy felt the slight depression of the space next to her on the bed and cracked one eye open. Hop Pop was sitting next to her, a mixture of pride and worry on his wrinkled face. “You did it, kiddo.” He hummed, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m holding up,” Marcy said, taking in a slow breath, “m’glad it’s over.”

"Man!" Sprig said, hopping from his bed into the center of the room. Marcy sat up to look at him. "What a day! You know, I think I learned an important lesson."

"That in the end justice will be meted out and the innocent will be vindicated?" Hop Pop offered.

"Nope!"

"The importance of keeping organized and extensive documentation?" Marcy guessed, though she doubted that was what Sprig had in mind.

"Nope!" Sprig denied again.

"That it was strangely easy to sneak into crossbow range of the king?" Polly guessed.

"Nope!" Sprig said again with a smile. "I learned that it doesn't really matter if you're guilty or not, as long as you can convince the powers that be to take your side!"

Polly nodded sagely in agreement while Hop Pop scowled disapprovingly. Marcy had her own reservations, but opted to keep them to herself. As if to counter her thoughts, there was a snicker from a previously unnoticed visitor.

All four of them startled and looked over to a door that was built into the side of the room. Sasha stood in a doorway that Marcy had originally assumed led to a closet.. She was out of the grubby armor and clothing she had been wearing when they arrived, exchanged for a rich blue tunic held in place by a vibrant red sash, both of which were trimmed with swooping wave patterns. She looked a lot calmer than she had earlier, looking almost affectionately at Sprig. Unbothered by everyone’s stares, Sasha just shrugged. "What? Kid’s got a point."

Marcy got to her feet. "Sasha, where..."

Sasha leaned casually against the doorframe, revealing a small balcony that connected to another door on the far end. "Rooms are connected. There's another one on the other end of my room for Anne." Her eyes briefly slid over to the Plantars before returning to stare meaningfully at Marcy.

Marcy glanced over at Hop Pop in silent question. He seemed reluctant but ultimately nodded. He walked over to Polly and scooped her up. "Sprig, Polly, come on, let's see about getting some dinner. Give these two some privacy."

Polly frowned, glaring daggers at Sasha as Hop Pop carried her away. Sprig seemed similarly reluctant but gave Sasha a pleading look before following after Hop Pop.

An uncomfortable silence filled the air between them until Marcy finally spoke. "Thanks back there, for..."

"Not exposing you?" Sasha asked with a raised brow. Marcy flinched. "It was quite a show. You almost had me fooled." She offered an approving smile . "It was the least I could do." Sasha paused again and then nodded to the balcony behind her. "Want to come out? We’ve got a great view." Sasha retreated from the door frame, gesturing for Marcy to follow her.

Marcy followed meekly. The stone balcony railing, like most of the castle, was carved with intricate artwork. Some of the finer details had become weathered over the centuries, but there were divots that betrayed more complicated patterns. Marcy ran her hand over the top and it felt smooth to the touch. Half-engaged columns framed the doors that led into each of their respective bedrooms. While they were sheltered from the wind, it could be heard as a constant howl just beyond the balcony that looked out over the city.

The sight took Marcy's breath away. Stretched out from the base of the castle was a metropolis. Between the great skyscraping mushrooms she could see an intricate tangle of streets. White stone structures were painted in rich reds and oranges by the setting sun, and many were topped with glass domes that reflected brilliant kaleidoscopes of light. All of it was sheltered by a great wall, beyond which was the pristine blue lake that Newtopia rested in.

"Beautiful, right?" Sasha commented, gesturing out over the sea. Marcy nodded in acknowledgement, even as her stomach tied itself in knots. "So, is Anne waiting down there for a signal, or...?"

Marcy closed her eyes and felt her heart ache, but shook her head. "No, we got separated weeks ago..." she said vaguely. "I'm not sure where she is." Marcy could see the disappointment spread over Sasha's face. Marcy's eyes focused on the new notch in her right ear. "It was the powder, wasn't it?" Sasha tilted her head in confusion. "How you got ambushed. It was the powder I used on you, wasn't it?"

Sasha's face soured at the memory, nodding. "Yeah. Was kind of a sitting duck." Before Marcy could ask, Sasha elaborated. "I wasn't able to defend myself cause he knocked me out with a single strike."

"I didn't think..." Marcy started to excuse, but stopped, staring down at the ground between them. "Why can't I stop screwing up?" she whispered; the pit of self loathing in her stomach twisted painfully.

Sasha was quiet for a moment but then she closed the distance and put a hand on Marcy's shoulder. Marcy looked up, and for the first time since they had spotted each other outside the walls she thought Sasha looked genuinely happy to see her. She had a reassuring smile that Marcy had seen a hundred times before: one that said everything was alright, or would be alright, because she would handle it.

“Listen…” Sasha started, clearly taking some time to grapple with her thoughts. “That night was a mess, and I…” She sighed. “I didn’t help things. Let’s just… leave it in the past, alright?” Her tone turned magnanimous. “We can find Anne and get things back to how they used to be.”

Marcy smiled back at her friend, reaching up to rest her hand on Sasha’s. It was tempting. To fall back in line, to let Sasha handle things again. To not have to worry about things anymore.

She squeezed Sasha's hand and with a shaky voice said, "No... no we can't. For several reasons." Marcy saw a flicker of annoyance in Sasha's expression and felt more confident in her decision, if no less scared.

Sasha took in a deep breath but maintained her smile and asked, with an edge of warning, "Oh? And why's that?"

Marcy pulled Sasha's hand away from her shoulder with reluctance. "’Cause Anne wasn't happy... we were hurting her, back then."

Sasha grimaced as she crossed her arms, and gestured impatiently for Marcy to continue.

"You always pushed her to do things she didn't want to. Vandalism, pranks, shoplifting-"

"Marcy, it was just a little mischief. We were just teenagers, having fun."

"We-" Marcy agreed, pointing between the two of them. "-were having fun. Anne wasn't. Anne was always uncomfortable with it. You always had to push her to do it. If I was able to notice it, then I know you did." Marcy shook her head. "And if she ever really objected you would belittle her until she gave in."

Sasha's brow furrowed; another warning that Marcy was going to have to ignore. "Funny, I don't recall you having any objections back then."

Marcy nodded, and responded with frankness. "Yeah. I was a pretty bad friend." There was some satisfaction in seeing Sasha actually surprised by that. "You know when we first reunited in Wartwood, she stole something for me. There was a merchant- it doesn't matter. She stole something for me. I didn't even ask her to." Sasha looked pleasantly surprised at this. "When I pressed her on why she had done it, she admitted that she thought that was all she was good for as our friend. That if she wasn't willing to do that much, we wouldn't want to be friends with her... she was crying , Sasha." Marcy recalled the moment with heartbreaking clarity.

Sasha looked uncomfortable at the words for a moment but quickly pivoted. "Marcy, why are you bringing this up now?" she stressed. "Anne's not even here."

"... ‘cause that night, I promised when the three of us met up, we would all talk about this, and I would back her up for once," Marcy explained, voice trembling. "But of course, when we did finally meet up again, Anne was too busy protecting me, again," Marcy said, annoyed with herself, "so I'm doing it now. Because Anne deserves a good friend."

Sasha looked incredulous as she regarded Marcy. Her face fell into a sneer. "Oh? And that's you, I suppose?" Sarcasm oozed out of her words like venom from a snake. "Found a little backbone out in the valley and now you think you can push me out of the group?"

Marcy felt a lump in her throat as she shook her head and spoke, not in fear or deference, but with calm acceptance. “No…” Marcy reached up to brush her hair out of her face, and her hand encountered the little green hairpin; she gently tugged it free. She looked down at it for a moment and hazy memories of a summer afternoon came into sudden, sharp focus. Anne had gifted her one just like it to keep the hair out of her eyes. Since then, she’d always made a point to seek an identical replacement every time one of them broke.

Marcy had always liked stories. Playing them, reading them, telling them; they had always been an escape for her. She had told herself a lot of little stories since she came to Amphibia. The most recent one had been one she had told herself with the letters. To a version of Anne that was worried about her. One who received her missives with relief and comfort to know Marcy was still alright. It was one that got harder to tell and imagine with each letter. It was a story she had lost herself in a lot over the past month of travel. It had made coping a little easier. Deep down, though, Marcy knew that if the real Anne were any of those things, she would have stayed, or at least left a note explaining why she left.

"No..." she repeated after a drawn out moment, wiping tears away before stuffing the hair clip in her pocket. "No, Anne... hates me." She felt her throat close as she tried to continue speaking. She looked up to find Sasha actually looked concerned. "So if it's going to be one of us, it has to be you."

Sasha seemed genuinely off balance for the first time in their long friendship. Her mouth was slightly agape as she wrestled with what Marcy said, and she took a few steps away from the balcony. "If... Marcy, if that's true, then why are you saying any of this?"

"’Cause I want you two to have the best possible chance of making up," she said earnestly. "And we both know if it comes down to choosing me or Anne, it's not going to be a hard decision for you," Marcy said with a sad little chuckle, "not that I can blame you." Sasha was actually speechless. After waiting a few moments, Marcy decided to press onward. "Did you ever wish that you had different friends?"

"W-what?"

"Different friends." Marcy repeated, "Someone who didn't annoy you with her nerdy niche interests." Marcy gestured to herself, "or who you wouldn't have to brow beat every time you wanted to get up to some mischief?" Marcy gestured vaguely to their absent third. "Maybe you wish you hadn't gotten stuck with us all those years ago?"

Sasha frowned at the question and immediately deflected, "Why? Have you thought that?"

"No," Marcy answered without hesitation. "Before we came here I didn't think I could live without you two," she admitted from the bottom of her heart.

Sasha avoided Marcy’s gaze as she just stared back at her, waiting for Sasha’s response. She looked uncomfortable but eventually shook her head, "No!" she finally said. She paced back towards her door, leaned a shoulder against it, and wrapped her arms around herself, clearly frustrated. "You two are my best friends. If I wanted different friends, I’d have them."

“Good, I’m happy to hear that.” Marcy smiled weakly. "But if that’s true, then why did you push us to be people we're not?"

"’Cause I want you two to be less obvious targets!" Sasha snapped. "Anne is a walking bleeding heart, giving every two-bit jackass the benefit of the doubt, and you have no social awareness." She inhaled, clearly restraining herself. "I am bending the social order at school to keep you guys safe. To keep people off your backs." She pointed accusingly. "And we go to a tiny private school. I'm not going to be able to protect you next year. The high schools in our district are huge. I won't be able to shelter you two anymore!" Sasha poured out. She braced a hand against one of the columns and used the other to rub at the bridge of her nose. "Marcy. Why are you bringing this up now? I'm trying to bury the hatchet here, why are you picking a fight with me?"

"Well, I do have a bit of good news." Marcy said, ignoring the question. Sasha looked up at her doubtfully. "Next year you won't have to worry about me at all... my parents are moving out of state."

"...What?"

"Back east, Boston." Marcy elaborated with a sad little smile. She leaned back against the balcony, and let the cold stone press soothingly into the small of her back. The sun was low enough now that orange light was pouring across the city behind her.

“I…” Sasha took a moment to absorb that. “When… I… What?” Marcy was surprised to see how hard she took the news, but she knew from experience that it wouldn’t last. Sasha’s brow furrowed in frustration; for once not at Marcy but at the situation. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

Marcy gently tapped her one-two-one pattern on the banister. As the world slowed to a standstill, she took a long, shaky breath and stepped towards Sasha, trying to commit the last sympathetic expression she was likely to see from her to memory. She held onto the moment for as long as she could, until she felt a part of herself start to waver. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tapped two-one-two before her cowardice could get the better of her.

Sasha felt genuinely lost in this conversation. In all the years Sasha had known her, Marcy had never been this confrontational. But at the same time, Sasha couldn't figure out why. If what Marcy was saying about Anne was true, what did she hope to gain here? For a moment Sasha saw her friend's eyes flash green and Sasha felt a chill down her spine, remembering the blank stare Marcy had given her while dangling Yunan off the side of a cliff. This time, however, there was a tentative warmth to it.. Her eyes were misty, but her voice was resigned as she spoke. "I only found out on Anne's birthday."

Sasha shook her head at the response. "What does that have to do-" Then Sasha stopped, as this puzzle piece fell into place and she could finally make out the broader picture. As her mind raced through just how cleanly Marcy had played them that day, she felt her eye start to twitch. She looked to Marcy for an explanation, some way that Sasha was mistaken, but Marcy only smiled apologetically. "You found that stupid box.” Sasha grit her teeth as fury started to flow through her again. Her hand touching the pillar clenched into a fist, digging out a chunk of marble and crushing it into powder. “You knew it would take us to this godforsaken mudball!?"

Marcy flinched, but nodded. "Told you... I didn't think I could live without you two," she said, eyes downcast. Despite her fury, Sasha felt a familiar ache at the words. "That couldn’t have backfired any worse huh?" She laughed humorlessly. "Don't worry though, I've learned how bad an idea this all was. I'll help find a way back to Earth. And hey, now you and Anne will be able to commiserate over what a screwup I am." She turned her back to Sasha and looked out at the horizon.

Sasha was dumbfounded for a few moments before her rage resurfaced. She’d spent three months sleeping in the muck and mire of this disgusting world while she sought Marcy out, constantly worried for her safety, and apparently Marcy had been exactly where she’d planned the whole time. Sasha already knew she had underestimated Marcy from that night on the mountain pass, but now she finally saw the full scope of it.

Her hands shook as she felt her nails dig into her palms.

Why was Marcy just standing there? Why wasn't she making excuses? Or defending herself or-

Sasha felt the chalky feeling on her palms as she clenched her fist and looked down at the marble dust that coated them. Marcy... wasn't defending herself.

Sasha watched Marcy closely as she pulled the same hand up in a fist and launched it at the same point in the wall. Stone cracked and splintered under the blow. Marcy’s shoulders tightened at the noise, but she didn't try to run or beg for mercy. Instead, she just tapped her knuckles in an unsteady rhythm, clenched her eyes shut, and braced herself, almost like she was expecting… Oh.

As the sun finally dipped below the horizon Sasha felt the edge of her anger leave with it. Her hands shook as she dusted them off on one another before wiping the excess on the back of her shirt. As she forced herself to breathe in the cool night air, Sasha reconsidered things. Something still felt off. She understood the broad strokes, but something was still missing.

Sasha had always thought of Marcy as simple. Not in a stupid way, obviously, but in a reliable way. Always easy going and happy to help with any of Sasha's plans. Just a word or two of encouragement and she'd be up for anything. Now, however, Sasha felt like she was looking at a completely different person. Like for the first time she learned how complicated something as ‘simple’ as a clock could be underneath. She felt like she was talking with a version of Marcy with a gear bent out of place.

As she had recently come to appreciate, Marcy was a masterful liar. Sasha hadn’t suspected her at all. If she had wanted to keep this a secret, she could have. So why didn’t she? Sasha was missing something. She could be as angry as she wanted to later, but what she needed was answers.

So, she strode up next to Marcy, ignoring the flinch of fear that went through her frame, and leaned her elbows on the stone railing. She looked out over Newtopia as, one after another, lightshrooms flickered to life to combat the arrival of night.

Marcy trembled in place for a few moments before she chanced to open an eye to look at Sasha. Her voice was unsteady as she spoke. “You’re not going to yell at me? Or- or hit me?”

Sasha glanced over at her. “I’m not going to hit you, Marcy.” Marcy nodded, but she didn’t relax her shoulders. Sasha sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Marcy. Why?” Sasha flicked her hand out, looking at her friend.

Marcy briefly met her gaze, but broke it just as quickly. "What difference would it make? It won't change what I did."

Sasha scowled for a moment before speaking. "Marbles, I'm gonna go ahead and say, for the rest of this conversation? You don't get to decide what’s relevant to me." Marcy nodded, but seemed reluctant to elaborate. Sasha considered her friend and decided to play a hunch. "It was your parents, wasn't it?" She saw the tiniest flicker of recognition across Marcy's expression. Bingo.

Marcy looked back at her with trepidation. "... You knew?"

Sasha sighed, looking back out. "No. Suspected, sure, but I didn't know. I haven't talked to either of them since we were seven. So either they had a problem with Anne and I, or you had a problem with them. Or both," Sasha said casually. "I hoped that if it was bad enough you would come to me or Anne about it. And if it wasn't, I figured you would rather not have me butt into your business." The last thing Sasha wanted was for people to pry into her home life.

"And now?"

"Well, I'll be honest Mar-Mar," she gestured out at the alien world below them, "I think you've officially made it my business."

Marcy took a minute to gather her thoughts, and Sasha waited patiently for her to do so. Finally, in a quiet voice, she spoke. "... I don't think my parents ever liked me," Marcy said, looking fragile. "I don't think my father wanted kids... or at least, he didn't want me. I don't remember a time he seemed genuinely happy to have me around. Asking any amount of attention beyond what was necessary was treated like a burden to bear. My Mom..." Marcy paused, searching for words. "I think she liked the idea of having a kid. Some living legacy to pass on. She liked bragging about my grades or my achievements, but never spared time for me..." Marcy frowned. "She was always so busy I... pretty early on I picked up that she was happiest when I kept to myself and didn't ask anything of her. I had hoped, when I was younger, that when she found time she would come find me." Marcy's lip quivered. "And… that day never came." Her shoulders slumped a bit. "I spent thirteen years in that house and I always felt alone there..."

Marcy smiled sadly over to Sasha, voice raw. "Then I met Anne, and then I met you and... you two were... you two were the closest thing I had to a home." She averted her gaze. "So, rather than lose my home, I ripped both of you away from yours," Marcy finished with a shrug. "All ‘cause I would be lonely ..." she finished uncharitably.

As Marcy spoke, Sasha felt her anger start to fade. It didn’t disappear, but it certainly diminished. "Marcy... that wasn't just loneliness. You were being neglected," she stated frankly.

"No." Marcy brushed the accusation aside. "I was never hungry, if I actually needed something they would-"

"Not physically neglected, Marcy," Sasha clarified. "Emotionally neglected."

At the phrase Sasha saw an immediate resonant understanding in Marcy's expression. “Oh…”

"Yeah. Mom says it's a pain in the ass to prove legally, but it's definitely a thing," Sasha said, looking out to the city again.

"Your mom?"

"Yeah.” Sasha said with a shrug. “She's with child services, you know that..." Ugh. Sasha was kicking herself. If she had noticed this sooner, this all could have been avoided.

"No I didn't actually, you never really... talked about your parents." Marcy’s voice was gentle.

The words felt like someone picking at a scab on her skin. "Yeah?" Sasha looked back to Marcy defiantly, but there wasn't any expectation there. Just an offer to lend an ear. The brief flash of anger faded. "...Yeah." She repeated, softer this time. Marcy didn't need to deal with more parental baggage, especially when Sasha's was so petty compared to Marcy’s situation. So she decided to change the subject. "You told all this to Anne?"

Marcy’s expression tightened as she remembered something and nodded.

"Little miss perfect parents didn't get it, did she?" Sasha asked knowingly.

Marcy choked out a sad little laugh. "I don't know..." she said. At Sasha's confused expression, she elaborated. "After Anne figured out I knew about the box... I unloaded all this on her, she asked for some time alone... then she-" she swallowed down a lump in her throat. "She left."

Sasha let out a long breath of sympathy as she shut her eyes. Brutal.

For a minute there was a silence between them. Far below them, the sounds of Newtopia’s nightlife started in earnest. After another minute Sasha could sense Marcy's growing confusion next to her. Sasha glanced up at her, which Marcy took as permission to speak.

"Sorry, I just... what's happening here, exactly?" She looked worried. "Are you... forgiving me?" She sounded more confused than hopeful, which was probably for the best, because otherwise Sasha might have acted rashly.

There was a part of Sasha that knew that if she convincingly assured Marcy that, 'yes, of course she did,' Sasha could probably have her right back under her thumb. She ignored that part of her as she instead actually considered the question.

Her mind went back to her first few days in Newtopia, scrambling for food and being treated like a monster. She thought of how hard she worked searching for her friends only for both of them to ditch her on top of a mountain. Her abduction by the toads, how the whole thing had been Marcy's plan from the beginning and-

"No," Sasha finally admitted between gritted teeth. "No, no, that one's still fresh. God, Marcy, if you had just talked to us. We could have- You-" Sasha's hands shook in anger until she slammed them open faced on the balcony railing. Spiderweb cracks spread out from the points of impact. "No." After a moment, she reigned herself in. “No, I am not.”

Marcy nodded meekly in response.

Sasha breathed in the cool night air as she calmed down. She gazed out at the landscape in front of them. “But…” She reached over and gently ruffled the scruff on the back of Marcy’s head, like she used to do when they were younger. Marcy froze at the contact. “I don’t hate you, Mar-Mar…”. Sasha sighed wearily. "And I'm not going anywhere."

"Oh..." Marcy said, shocked at the familiar gesture. "Thank you..."

"Yeah..."

Sasha felt her friend's body tremble as the tension slowly bled out of her. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Yeah, I know." Sasha sighed.

“I’m so sorry…” Marcy tentatively leaned into Sasha’s hold, and, encountering no resistance, collapsed fully against Sasha’s side, burying her face into Sasha’s shoulder while she cried into her tunic. Sasha held her in a one-armed hug, and ran her nails soothingly along Marcy’s scalp.

This was going to be complicated...

Art by Kaereth

Chapter 8: Youthspresso - Part 1 : Good Intentions

Chapter Text

- Marcy's Journal -

Day 138(?) in Amphibia

Wow, uh, hey there journal. Long time no see huh? I've mostly been putting my thoughts into letters since. Well. Yeah. Guess I better summarize for posterity.

So first of all, at the Frog of the Year Celebration Sasha arrived with the Newtopian Army with a writ of execution for Hop Pop. :( We managed to get away but soon after Anne figured out what I did and... left. After that me and the Plantars were on the run and had a bunch of pretty wild adventures. Found an old robot factory, got arrested for unrelated reasons, found and fought a cult, got press ganged into being pirates, escaped... It's been busy.

I figured the best option we really had available to us was to go directly to Newtopia and plead our case to the king (Well really I thought I should go alone but the Plantars insisted on coming with <3 ). As it turns out, that was the right call. King Andrias heard us out and Hop Pop was pardoned! Or at least he will be once the investigation is done.

Also, Sasha is here. I told her about what I did, with the box and everything. I expected her to hate me after everything but… she says she doesn’t. After what happened with Anne, I figured… but I don’t know. We haven't really talked since then.

I guess the good news is that while me and the family are under city arrest ( urban arrest? We're not allowed to leave the city) I'm able to look up information about the music box in the royal library. Plus the castle is really cool, and the city is just... beautiful. We have a really great view from our room in the castle. It's a good thing I didn't end up here like Sasha did, would have probably totally lost myself. As it is, I can finally start making good on my promise to find a way back to earth.

"Dammit," Sasha grunted. Her wrist twisted painfully as the training sword was wrenched from her hand for the third time in as many minutes. It clattered to the ground, and Yunan punctuated the round with a light jab to the center of Sasha’s chest.

Yunan looked at her with reserved disappointment. "You know, if you’re not going to take this seriously I may as well just duel the trainees." She gestured to the line of suddenly nervous cadet guardsmen.

Sasha grumbled under her breath as she bent down to retrieve her sword. The worst part was she couldn’t even disagree - she still wasn’t as skilled as Yunan, but at this point she’d won a few of their bouts fair and square. This was a pathetic showing and they both knew it.

Yunan tracked her movement and shook her head. "We're done for the time being. Clear your head, Captain." It was as much an order as it was a suggestion. She relaxed from her dueling stance and held out her hand.

Sasha was tempted to take a spiteful swing, but decided against it, and reluctantly handed the wooden sword to Yunan.

As she stormed off from the training grounds, Yunan’s voice followed her. "Stop avoiding your friend, Waybright!"

"You're not my boss!" Sasha called over her shoulder.

"Literally untrue, but do as you will!" Yunan called back. Just before Sasha rounded the corner she heard Yunan add, "I just thought my second in command wasn't a coward!"

Sasha stopped in her tracks. A retort formed on the tip of her tongue, but reentering the training grounds would just make her look petulant, no matter what comeback she came up with.

Sasha squared her shoulders and continued into the halls of the castle. Behind her, she distantly heard, "Alright, trainees! All of you come at me at once!" There was a deafening silence before Yunan added, "Any who refuse will be on sewer patrol for the next month!" This was soon followed by the sound of footfalls, clashing wood, and maniacal laughter.

As Sasha stalked the halls, her first intended destination was going to be her own suite to clean up, but Yunan's words were getting under her skin. Coward? How was she a coward? She wasn't afraid of Marcy, and she wasn't avoiding her. They’d both just been busy. Maybe this whole situation was a mess, but they were still friends. She blew past her door and continued to the royal library.

A few minutes later, Sasha found herself standing before the library’s doors with a deeply furrowed brow. She took a deep breath, pulled open the doors, and marched inside. The aged newt at the front desk eyed Sasha warily as she entered, but didn't say anything.

Sasha scanned her surroundings. The front desk was situated in the middle of a large rotunda. Marble pillars decorated with coral held up the domed, two-story ceiling. Tapestries hung on each pillar, flanking archways that opened into hallways that led deeper into the library. Fully stocked bookshelves took up every remaining scrap of space, stretching along the walls and well above Sasha’s head.

She didn’t see Marcy anywhere, so she returned her focus to the librarian at the desk and raised a brow questioningly. The librarian sighed and pointed towards one of the hallways. “She’s in the Manta Ray Wing.” Sasha nodded and headed towards the indicated hallway. “Can you see about getting her to put some of the books back when she’s done with them?”

Sasha scoffed and continued on. She arrived in a similarly circular room, and understood the librarian’s concern. Marcy sat with her back to Sasha at a table that was piled with dozens upon dozens of books. Her fingers tapped rhythmically on the back cover of the book in her hands as she flipped through it, briefly glancing at each page before moving on.

Sasha strolled up to look over her shoulder. “I know you love books, Mar-Mar, but there’s no way you can read that fast.”

Marcy jumped and tried to spin in her seat to face Sasha, but she overshot and went tumbling to the floor; her arm shot out to catch herself, but all she managed to do was drag one of the stacks of books down on top of herself. She looked up at Sasha sheepishly.

Well, at least some things never changed. "You good?" She offered Marcy a hand up.

"Yeah..." she wheezed out. She gratefully took the offered hand and Sasha pulled her to her feet. She took a moment to dust herself off and looked up at Sasha. "Hey, what's up Sash? Something going on?"

"No..." Sasha scowled. "Why? Do I need a reason to see you?" Marcy winced and Sasha internally cringed.

"No, it's just…" Marcy sputtered for a moment and then shook her head. "No, of course not." She started to gather her books. "What have you been up to?"

"Oh, you know: reports, sparring with Yunan, making the rounds..." Sasha said. She picked up a book from the table and opened it to the first page. "So, are you like… gathering all the books you need first, or…?"

"Hm?" Marcy sat back down at the desk. There was a small space cleared in the center of the desk for a new book, and a similar space just to the left for her journal. "Oh, no, those are the books I've already been through."

Sasha paused and took in the view. Dozens of thick hardcover books encircled the desk. She knew Marcy was a bit of a bookworm, but all of this in just a few days stretched belief. "How?"

"Oh, you know..." Marcy said coyly. She wiggled her fingers. "Just a bit of magic." She grabbed a book from the top of the stack and flipped it open to the first page. Her fingers drummed a short beat on the cover and her eyes flashed green briefly before they returned to her natural brown. She flipped the page and repeated the sequence: tap cover, green flash, turn page. After a moment she settled into a smooth rhythm and rapidly made her way to the end of the book, then closed it with a loud thump and set it back down on the desk.

Sasha smirked. "Your super power is speed reading?" Honestly, she couldn’t think of a power that would suit Marcy better. She opened her mouth to continue teasing, but hesitated when she saw Marcy suddenly squeeze her eyes shut and pinch the bridge of her nose. “Hey, you okay?”

"Yeah... just close to a burn out. If I do this too much it gives me a migraine," Marcy explained. She leaned back in her chair. "Just need a minute or two to recharge."

"Only you could hurt yourself reading, Marce, " Sasha said fondly.

Marcy smirked. "What can I say, gotta stay on brand..." she responded, but her face scrunched up in pain again.

Sasha sat quietly as Marcy massaged her temples. Headaches aside, this was going great! They could still banter like normal. Yunan didn't know what she was talking about. All Sasha had to do was not think about that night, just focus on the here and now. Just don't think about it, and everything's fine... just don't… just...

Sasha felt her mood sour. When Marcy finally opened her eyes again, she froze. "... everything alright, Sash?"

Sasha thought about playing it off, but this was going to bug her until she heard an answer from Marcy. "What did you mean when you said if I had to choose between you and Anne it would be an easy choice?"

Marcy flinched, gave an apologetic smile, and rubbed the back of her head. "Ah, sorry, I really just unloaded on you back there, didn't I?" she tried. Sasha nodded in acknowledgement, but maintained her stare and waited for an actual answer. "Sash, do you really want to have this talk?” Marcy’s voice was weary.

“Wouldn't have asked otherwise.”

Marcy picked up her journal and started to write in it, avoiding eye contact. "Sometimes it felt like you were better friends with Anne, and I was... in the way or something," Marcy said meekly.

"How?"

"I don't know, lots of little things." Marcy shrugged. "Like how you’d always put down my interests or how you’d play hooky with Anne without even shooting me a text."

"I didn't think you'd want to come," Sasha excused. "I thought you liked school and studying, and all that junk." Back when their families had carpooled to elementary, Marcy had always been the most excited to get to school. Sasha and Anne had always found it bizarre.

Marcy looked at Sasha, then back down at her journal, and mumbled a response under her breath, face reddening.

Sasha raised a brow. "What was that?"

Marcy took a short breath and aggressively scribbled out a note in her journal. "I liked it cause you guys were there." Sasha's eyes widened at that, but she reined it in before Marcy looked back up. "I mean, I like learning, but I haven't really been challenged by schoolwork in years. I brush up on some things before a test, but for the most part I just coast through classes."

"Oh… Huh," Sasha let out. Now that she thought about it, that really shouldn’t have been a surprise. Still… “Okay, but usually if we didn’t invite you it was because it was stuff that we knew you wouldn’t be into. Like parties or whatever.”

"You guys went to a party back on Anne's birthday?" Marcy asked skeptically.

"No…" Everyone else their age had been in school. "We did other stuff."

"Like what?" Marcy tilted her head.

Sasha thought back to the afternoon. "You know. Little mischief, spray painted some stuff, got some sugary coffees... went to the arcade..." she trailed off as she heard herself. Marcy gave her a look. Sasha bristled. "Okay, fine, but the three of us don't have to be attached at the hip to be friends. We can do things in pairs sometimes."

Marcy hummed thoughtfully at that and then nodded. "Yeah, fair point. It's not like me and Anne never hung out without you," She admitted to Sasha's brief satisfaction. "I guess what really bugged me was that it felt like we never did anything together." She pointed between them. "Just the two of us."

"What do you mean?"

"If Anne couldn't make an outing, you'd insist we reschedule. If I tried to invite you out to do something, the first thing you'd do is loop Anne in. Even if we were pulling a prank we didn't need Anne for and she didn't want to help, you'd pressure her until she went along with it," Marcy said, pointing a pencil across the table. "I never really minded, since I loved hanging out with Anne, but the overall pattern was a little... disheartening," Marcy admitted. "Like if we didn't have Anne as a common friend, we wouldn't be friends at all."

Sasha frowned at that, but resisted the urge to snipe back. She had literally asked for this. So instead, she tried to dredge up some counterexamples; surely Marcy was exaggerating. However, despite her best efforts, she came up empty. There were a few study sessions here and there. A couple of times Sasha needed some help and wanted it to be a secret from Anne for one reason or another. There'd been plenty of playdates when they were kids, but in the last few years? Sasha had to concede that maybe Marcy had a point.

Sasha continued to search her memories, and finally stumbled upon something she had almost managed to repress. "Wait. Is all this…” she gestured broadly between them, “...why you wanted to try out for cheerleading?"

Marcy cringed and rapped on the table with her knuckles. "Oof. Hehe, yeah, embarrassing~" Marcy’s voice trailed off and she somehow managed to make herself even smaller.

One day last summer, Marcy had inexplicably texted Sasha to ask when in the year they did cheer tryouts. Sasha had thought it was a joke at first, but Marcy insisted she wanted to be on the team. She had eventually worn down Sasha’s resolve and convinced her to show her the basic moves someone would need to get started. They'd met up on the weekend with an especially anxious Anne, first aid kit in tow. It had been an unmitigated disaster. That first aid kid had come in handy more than once. Countless cuts and scrapes littered Marcy’s arms and legs, but she kept at it no matter how many times she failed to coordinate even the simplest moves. It had been a trying experience. Though, to her credit, she kept at it right up until she rolled her ankle.

Sasha had chalked it up to some passing fancy, maybe connected to a video game or something, but with this new context... Anne's tennis practice and Sasha's cheer practice ran counter to each other. It was something Marcy and Sasha would have had to do together. "Why that?"

At Sasha's questioning look she shrugged. "Well... you’d made it pretty clear what you thought of my hobbies, so I thought I'd try my hand at one of yours." She grimaced. "Not one of my best plans..." Marcy shook her head and returned her focus to her journal.

A pool of guilt gathered in Sasha’s gut as she recalled how that Saturday had ended.

The trio trudged back towards Anne’s house. Sasha led the way, followed by Anne who carried Marcy on her back.

"Okay... so that could have gone better," Marcy admitted.

"You think?" Sasha said from over her shoulder. It had been a frustrating day. She was trying to lose herself in her phone.

"But don't worry!" Marcy insisted cheerily. "Once my ankle's better I'll practice all those moves to get ready for tryouts."

Sasha came to a stop, incredulous.

"Are you sure, Marcy?" Anne asked in a concerned tone. "Might be a little dangerous for you."

"Well..." Marcy hesitated, but she was undeterred. "I'll just need to practice more. Once I get the hang of it, it'll be fine!"

Sasha imagined Marcy in the gym, stumbling over the most basic moves. In front of the entire cheer squad. Sasha would have to humor her so she wasn't totally humiliated. It would be a disaster even if she didn't manage to break anything.

"Marce? Don't worry about it, really. We get plenty of people for tryouts."

"I-" Marcy started, confused. "I know, that's why I need to practice."

"Marcy, cheerleading really doesn't seem to be your thing." Sasha turned and flashed her a reassuring smile. "Wouldn't you have more fun in chess club?"

"Oh it's fine, chess club is on Tuesdays and Fridays. You guys practice Monday, Wednesday, Friday," Marcy countered cheerily. "I can miss chess one day and-"

"Marcy." Why was she being so stubborn about this? Sasha put a hand on Marcy's shoulder. "Don’t put yourself out. I appreciate the spirit, but we'll be fine without you." Sasha put just enough edge into her tone to put the discussion to bed.

"But-" Marcy started but Sasha stared her down. Marcy’s expression flickered with disappointment. "Yeah... You're right, that's probably for the best," she conceded.

Anne frowned and glanced back at Marcy. She looked like she was about to say something, but Sasha gave her a pointed glare and she quickly averted her eyes.

"Great." Sasha turned around. Crisis averted. "Now come on, let's go get some boba before we head to Anne’s."

Anne followed meekly behind. After a few moments of silence, she seemed to rebound, and directed her attention back to Marcy. "Well, if you want to keep coming to cheer me on at tennis practice, I'd appreciate it!" she said.

"Yeah," Marcy said softly. "Sure thing, Anna Banana."

Marcy’s eyes darted nervously back and forth between her journal and Sasha’s face. The other girl’s brow was furrowed, and she frowned faintly, apparently lost in thought. She was probably remembering how frustrating that day had been. Marcy hesitantly tested the waters. “You alright there, Sash?”

Sasha blinked rapidly for a moment, then directed a tight expression at her that she couldn’t quite puzzle out. She abruptly pushed her chair away from the table and stood up. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just got done sparring, so I’m gonna turn in.”

“Oh… alright,” Marcy said. Sasha spun on her heel and quickly walked out the way she had come. Marcy barely had time to call out a “Goodnight!” before she turned the corner. Marcy sighed as Sasha’s footfalls disappeared into the distance. Well, that was... almost a nice conversation. Marcy took a moment to stretch before focusing back on her work, scanning page after page for information on the music box.

Sprig hopped around the room, doing the one chore he had been entrusted with: feeding the strange collection of pets they'd picked up since meeting Marcy. Sprig didn’t hesitate to call on the royal chef to provide pet food, so they were all getting spoiled.

First, a plate of roasted grape-flies for Petey, who Sprig had finally decided to forgive for trying to destroy his family home. Zappy got a little bucket full of smaller non-electric centipedes, which Sprig tried not to think about too hard. He carefully misted the special jar of magic moss he'd gifted Marcy.

Last but not least was the little family of half wild rabbicoons, who had recently suffered a tragic loss. After the Plantars’ first night in Newtopia, they had recovered the fwagon and brought it to the palace, only to discover that the smallest rabbicoon was missing. There had been a brief discussion about trying to find the little creature, but after laying out a map of the city, even Sprig had to admit it was probably hopeless.

The mother had grown increasingly territorial, and hissed at anyone who strayed too close to her nest, but she tolerated Sprig well enough.

Sprig had been incredibly attentive to the care of the various pets for two very important reasons. For one, it relieved some small amount of work from his sister's shoulders, and he was happy to do it.

For two, he was bored to death of being stuck in the castle. He and Polly had been forbidden from exploring the city on their own, and Hop Pop and Marcy had been busy since they arrived.

Exploring the castle itself had been fun at first, but after an incident involving an antique vase, an ancient tapestry, and an old document detailing Amphibian rights, Lady Olivia had declared he wasn’t allowed to leave Marcy’s room unless he was escorted by the Royal Guard. The fire wasn’t even his fault!

Staying in the room with Polly was marginally better than worrying about guards breathing down his neck all day, but it was so frustrating to see the whole of Newtopia laid out below him and not be able to explore! Even playing Marcy's Shift barely diminished the undeniable call of adventure.

Sprig heard the door crack open and looked up from watching the rabbicoon kits tear apart a head of lettuce. Marcy and Hop Pop both shuffled in through the threshold.

"Marcy! Hop Pop!" Sprig jumped up to greet them. "How’d it go today?"

"Nothing," Marcy lamented, rubbing at her head. "Dozens of books and not a single scrap of information about the music box." She didn’t even bother to drop her shoulder bag, and walked straight over to her bed to flop down into the giant blanket that covered it. "How is it possible that the family tome has more information than the royal library? " she complained, muffled by the comforter.

"Slow going on my end, as well..." Hop Pop sat down at the little round table they'd been using for meals and started to massage his feet. "All sorts of procedures and paperwork to fill out to get some aid out to Wartwood. Had me running higgledy piggledy all day long," he said with a frown. "Now, I can appreciate a good form as much as the next law abiding frog, but filling out twenty-two pages of paperwork to get an audience with some lower clerk whose only job is to give me more paperwork is too dang much," Hop Pop grumbled.

Sprig maintained his smile, and tried to be reassuring. "Well, it sounds like you two are stressed. You know what might help with-"

"I'm sorry, Sprig," Hop Pop preempted. "Believe me, I've dreamed of seeing Newtopia my whole life. But as mayor, I have a responsibility to try and get some aid for the valley. I'll navigate through this co*ckamamie bureaucracy or die trying!"

Sprig sighed. This was a dead end, Hop Pop was officially vindictive over this, which meant there would be no reasoning with him. Sprig jumped up onto Marcy's bed. "Okay, well Marcy how about-"

Marcy turned her face towards Sprig, expression apologetic. "Sprig, you know I can't. Sasha's giving me a second chance, I can't slack off already."

Sprig knew how important this was to Marcy. When he, Polly, and Hop Pop had returned from dinner last night, they’d found Sasha comforting a crying Marcy out on the balcony. After Sasha had returned to her own room, Marcy filled them in on what had happened in their absence.

However, Sprig also knew that Marcy had been running on fumes since shortly after they left Wartwood. He’d made a few attempts to get her to take a break for her own sake, but it always fell on deaf ears.

He made a few more attempts to get Marcy to unwind a little, but In the end, they did the same thing they’d done every night since they’d arrived. They ordered food from the castle’s kitchens, played a few games while Hop Pop fell asleep attempting the crossword from the Newstopian, and then crawled into bed to fall asleep to do it all over again.

Another day in the world's most exciting city and Sprig had seen none of it.

Even worse, Marcy and Hop Pop were both overworking themselves again.

Sprig decided he had to do something. In the middle of the night, once he was sure everyone else was asleep, he slipped out of his little bed and snuck over to Zappy's cage. Between bolts of arcing electricity, he grabbed Marcy's phone and unlocked it. He'd seen her enter the password plenty of times.

He navigated the magic flat picture buttons to her photos. He looked for the folder filled with all the pictures Marcy had taken of Maddie's grimoire. He flicked through the pages and poured over the text on the tiny magic box until he finally found something that might work. He even recognized most of the ingredients from Marcy’s supplies!

"Hey Polly, it's time to get up," Marcy's voice prodded gently.

A finger poked at Polly's cheek and she reached up to bat it away, annoyed. "Wake me when the food gets here," she said, already spoiled from their few days in the palace.

"It's already here." Polly reluctantly cracked open one eye to see that a couple of newt servants were unloading a cart full of various dishes on silver platters onto the table. A posh butler wearing a monocle supervised them closely. Polly grumbled. She’d been up late the previous night playing on Marcy’s Shift. Marcy gave her a sympathetic look. "Take a minute if you need to, but don't take too long, the food'll get cold." Marcy patted her gently on the head and then left towards the table.

Polly blindly reached for her ribbon, which she had carefully folded up next to her pillow, and got dressed herself. Polly rolled herself into a sitting position and took in her surroundings. Aside from the servants she could see her siblings.

Sprig was already dressed, fiddling with something in the corner of the room.

Marcy, meanwhile, sat at the table in her PJ's, and stifled a yawn as she looked up contemplatively at the magic square in the ceiling that blew in cold air. “Hey Hop Pop, have you ever seen an air vent like this?” The servants were beginning to make themselves scarce, their jobs done.

“A what now?” Hop Pop emerged from the bathroom,dressed for the day, he looked up to the hole Marcy was pointing at with her pencil. “Nope! Must be some swanky Newtopian thing.” he shrugged before grinning appreciatively at the butler. "Thank you kindly, Simon, we all appreciate the service."

"Think nothing of it, Mayor Plantar, you are guests here in the palace. It is our job to make sure your stay is comfortable." The butler pulled a chair out for Hop Pop to jump into and then turned to regard Marcy. "Shall I tell the librarian to prepare for your arrival?"

"Yes, please and thank you, Simon."

"Very good, Lady Regina," The butler said. He gave a small bow. "I will take my leave for now," he said before exiting.

Hop Pop frowned as the newt left and turned to Marcy. "Why is he calling you by your middle name?"

"Dunno... people all around the palace have been doing it." Marcy returned his frown. "Maybe it's a Newtopia thing?" She scratched her head. "Polly, do they call you Petunia?"

"Nope!" Polly replied as she pulled gently on her ribbon to even it out.

Marcy hummed in curiosity and looked at the assortment in front of her. "Ah man, they forgot our pot of bugaccinos." Her eyes darted to the door as she visibly debated with herself whether to bother the staff with it.

"I got it!" Sprig walked up to the table and held up a ceramic coffee pot. Steam gently wafted from the spout. "Need a little pick-me-up?" he asked.

Marcy and Hop Pop both held out their mugs for Sprig to fill. Hop Pop smiled. "Well, that's mighty considerate of you, Sprig."

"Thanks Sprig, I'm gonna need this," Marcy said appreciatively.

Polly squinted suspiciously at her brother.

"No problem, got to get ready for the day, right?" Sprig said before he noticed Polly’s stare. He shot a nervous glance at Marcy and Hop Pop before setting the pot up on the table and rushing over to her. "Morning Polly! What's up?"

Marcy and Hop Pop glanced over as he darted away from the table and briefly shared a look before they shrugged, clinked mugs, and drank deeply.

As Sprig got close, Polly raised a brow and whispered, "So, what did you do?"

Sprig frowned at the accusation, but whispered back. "What? Why must I have done something?"

"You’re buttering them up. Usually, that means you're either in trouble or you're about to be," Polly said critically.

"Well, joke’s on you. I'm doing Hop Pop and Marcy a favor," Sprig said in a clandestine tone.

"How so?" Polly asked.

"Those two have been stressed out for the last month dealing with everything," Sprig reasoned, "I thought once we got to Newtopia they would relax, but they're still working so hard!"

Polly nodded, still waiting for the catch. "Sure, yeah. But what did you do ?" Polly insisted.

Sprig smirked. "Well, we both know they’d never choose to relax, so I found a youth potion in Marcy's phone and brewed it up! It'll make both of them younger for the day. They'll relax about their responsibilities for a while and get the chance to chill out."

Polly’s eyes went wide. "Woooow!"

"Yeah, pretty clever right?" Sprig said, proudly rubbing his knuckles on his vest.

"Oh, no, this is almost certainly going to backfire," Polly explained. "Usually I only get to see the fallout from your schemes, but I always wanted to believe they at least sounded good on paper. But it's really just a disaster from start to finish, isn’t it?" Polly asked with a frown.

Sprig frowned right back, but before he could object, a massive cloud of sparkly dust exploded out from the dining table.

Oh wow, he actually killed them.

Chapter 9: Youthspresso - Part 2 : The Big Break!

Chapter Text

Hopediah stumbled out of the cloud of dust in a daze, coughing and wheezing as he went. He found a door and pushed his way through onto a balcony. The smoke started to dissipate and he was able to breathe easily again. He chanced a look over the railing, and the view that awaited him was astonishing! Stretched out below him was the largest city he’d ever seen; the streets were clean of manure and packed with thousands of bodies as they scurried from place to place like ants. A massive hotel topped with a shining glass dome dominated the view, nearly eclipsing the enormous mushrooms that were taller than any tree in the valley!

There was only one place in all of Amphibia this could be. The shining jewel of the kingdom! Newtopia! "Oh, hoho! I can't believe it, I never thought I'd make it to the capital! I gotta go see everything!" He pushed off of the balcony’s railing and headed back into the room he had just left.

He quickly identified the front door and marched straight towards it. Before he could get too far, a little pink frog jumped out in front of him. "Whoa, hey we're all excited I'm sure, but we should all head out together, right Hop Pop?” Hopediah froze in place and took stock of his surroundings. It looked like he was in a swanky hotel room with this kid and a pollywog, who appeared to be fighting the urge to laugh. “Plus, I've made a list of all the cool stuff we can do in town, so-"

Hop Pop smiled awkwardly at the enthusiastic boy. "Listen, kid, I’m sorry, but I think you have me confused with someone else. My name is Hopediah Plantar."

The boy frowned. "Hop Pop, I'm your grandson, I know your name."

Hopediah barked out a laugh, though he did feel vaguely insulted. "Ha! How old do you think I am? I don't have any kids..." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully for a moment. "...Not that I know of, anyways... definitely no grandchildren, in any case." His pondering was interrupted as a strange creature, about his height, emerged from the haze of smoke. It had short black hair and a hideous deformity jutting out from the middle of its face. "That thing yours?" Hop Pop nodded at the creature that had started to wander over to a small copper cage.

"Marcy! Wait!" The pink frog whirled around to jump after the creature, and Hopediah took the opportunity to make his exit. He felt a little guilty about leaving the two kids there, but judging from how swanky the room looked, and from how many servants were bustling through the hall, they'd be fine.

Hopediah was stunned at the size of the place - the halls were titanic! He politely waved down one of the servants. "Hello there, I’m just a mite lost, would you mind terribly showing me the way out?"

The servant seemed confused, but complied, and Hop Pop followed a daisy chain of directions that eventually led outside. It took him nearly an hour just to get out, and when he did he looked back to find he had been staying at the royal palace. He didn't know what Crazy Dan had mixed into the drinks last night, but it must have been strong .

So little ol' Hoppy was in the big city. There was so much he wanted to do - he ought to visit Sal and see how that knucklehead was doing. First thing’s first, though: as an actor, he had an obligation to make a pilgrimage to the Royal Newtopian Theater! Home of the most passionate actors and the most advanced theater craft in the known world! He wouldn't be able to afford a show, as his wallet was even emptier than usual, but hopefully Sal would be able to put him up for a few nights while he looked for a job.

He located the great opera house without too much trouble. However, it did look a bit... run down. The paint was faded and peeling in places. The giant scorpileo statues were chipped and one was missing a paw. Strangest of all was the throng of depressed-looking newts sitting on the marble staircase, dressed in full classical costume.

"Ruined. We're ruined!" One of them announced. He wore an ostentatious blue suit that complimented his orange skin, though it had seen better days. "Cal, how could our lead actor just disappear!? We're opening tonight!" he said dramatically, gesticulating wildly in the open air.

Another one, dressed as a Newtopian knight, looked up. "Sorry, Fen." He shrugged. "He said he just couldn't deal with the drama of being an actor anymore. I tried to talk him out of it, but..."

He was interrupted by a green newt wearing a noblewoman’s outfit. “I told you this would happen.” She spoke in a steady monotone from behind a lit cigarette.

Fen rubbed at his forehead with his thumb, "Violet, I swear if you say we're-"

"Cursed? Yeah, you cast a newt in the lead role of The Frog Prince ." She shook her head and flicked the butt of her cigarette away. "That’s just asking for things to go wrong."

Fen rolled his eyes and faced Cal again. "What about the understudy, where is he? "

"Lost his tail in a bar fight last night. He's laid up at the hospital," Cal responded.

"What about his understudy?"

"In jail for cutting off the first one's tail."

Fen dropped his head into his hands and languished against a scorpileo statue that adorned the steps of the playhouse. "Ugh, we can't put on a show of The Frog Prince without a frog prince. We'll have to give everyone refunds." He sank to his knees and wailed a lament. "The company... is ruined!"

"Forsooth! Do not despair, noble sirs!" All the newts sat up at attention as Hopediah stood before them, hand raised. "For are we not all dedicated towards this cause? Were our oaths trifling things, spoken in jest? Nay I say! This is but a challenge that we were born to overcome!" Hopediah thudded a hand over his chest. "When ye said your lives were for the cause, I took it for truth, was it but a lie?"

Fen slowly rose to his feet. "Nay, young prince," he said. "But should we have hope but to die?"

"No one lives forever, Tancred. We are all doomed to die the moment we draw our first breath. Our only choice in the matter is how. And I would die a thousand deaths for a noble cause, before I die a quiet one as a coward and oath breaker both . "

A smattering of applause broke out among the newts.

"That was the speech from the end of the first act." The despairing director pulled down his sunglasses to give Hopediah an appraising look. "Frog, what's your name?"

"Name’s Hopediah Plantar," he said, returning to his folksy accent.

"I’m Fen Shou, leader of this mangy mob." Fen gestured at the newts around him. "Hopediah, do you know all the lines for the Frog Prince?"

"Sure do, got ‘em all memorized up here," he replied as he tapped at his noggin. "Heck, I could play any part in any Snakespeare play you care to name."

"Well, Hopediah, I'm going to level with you - we’re in a bind," Fen said seriously. "I don't know what you think brought you to Newtopia-"

"Haven't the foggiest."

"-but I know what truly drew you here, and it is to star in tonight's performance of The Frog Prince . Can we count on you to be our frog prince?"

Hopediah took a long, deep breath; he’d literally had dreams that started like this. "Fen, everyone, you can count on me!"

"Oh, there is nothing to be done! How could all the concessions go bad at the same time!?" The director collapsed into one of the audience seats in exasperation. "Who's going to enjoy a play without hors d’oeuvres!? Sautéed co*cktail beetles! Sweetfish caviar! Red tea ice-cream! All spoiled!"

"I warned you. Play’s cursed." Violet droned as she flipped through her script for the fiftieth time.

"Why!? We have a frog playing the prince now!" the director gestured at Hopediah.

"By the smell of things, that fridge broke down days ago," she said in response. "We were still cursed back then."

Hopediah frowned. He gathered that a ‘fridge’ was some kind of mystical box that kept food from spoiling, but he didn’t want to look like a rube so he didn’t ask how a magic box would break.

Fen groaned in defeat. "Ugh, we'll never turn a profit on this show now. Might as well cancel it at this point."

An atmosphere of disappointment swept through the actors, and Hop Pop couldn't believe it. This was the Royal Newtopian Theater Company ? "Hey now, no use thinking like that." He hopped to center stage. "I don't know about all the complexities of running a theater," he admitted, "but I know the most important thing is to put on a good show. It might be important to secure funds for future shows, but I'd hope we're all here as artists first ." The despondent newts around him started to perk up as he spoke. "Now I say, for better or worse, we put on the best dang show we can, come hell or high water! Who's with me?"

A number of newts nodded with determination, though Fen was less than enthused. "I suppose if it's going to be our last show, we might as well make it a good one," he said with a shrug.

Hopediah gave him an encouraging smile. "Now, with all that said, I do think I might have a solution for our little concession problem," he offered. The director looked up and gestured for him to continue. "Now, it's a little rustic, but it’s easy, it’s cheap, and in my humble opinion, nothing goes better with a show."

Fen looked up at him skeptically. "And what could this wonder food be?"

Hopediah smiled and looked around. "Any of you city slickers had the privilege of eating popped-corn?"

Hopediah let out an anxious breath as he climbed up the rickety old scaffolding. Initially he had tried to leap his way to the top, but the high pitched creaking emanating from the splintering wooden boards advised caution. They had about an hour before the show started, and there was no time left for rehearsals, so he’d decided to explore a little bit.

He finally reached the top of the great eight story opera house as the scaffolding gave way to a series of catwalks that hung over the theater. He felt a brief wave of vertigo as he looked over the railing. There were rows upon rows of seats encircling the little stage he'd be performing on soon, as well as balconies stacked atop balconies overlooking the rest of the theater. It was a long way from the Grubhog Day shows he'd put on back in the valley.

He looked out at the catwalks and saw an intricate array of mirrors, set up to redirect the light of the setting sun that would soon shine through the western window.

A gray toad with a thick, bushy unibrow crouched in front of one the mirrors, carefully polishing the surface to a brilliant shine. He looked over and slowly rose to his feet with a grunt of pain. Poor old timer must be pushing 40. Once he’d found his footing he turned to Hopediah and spoke in a deep, gravelly voice. "Hey, you shouldn't be up here-"

"Ah, sorry, I’m new around here. You're Scruff, right?"

Scruff stuffed his rag and cleaner into his toolbelt and started towards him. "Yes, but-"

"Well, I'm Hopediah, and as I said I'm new, I heard so much about this place and- hup-" Scruff hoisted him by his arms like a child and then marched towards the scaffolding.

"There are rambats in the rafters," Scruff grumbled before setting him back on the landing for the floor. "Better to be safe than sorry with the new talent, eh?"

"Gotcha." Hopediah tried to push down his irritation. Looks like toads would manhandle frogs whether they were in the valley or not. He looked behind Scruff to the array of mirrors and asked, "So, that’s the sundial spotlight, huh?"

Scruff nodded as they started down the steps together. "Yes. Glowshrooms have their place, but nothing quite matches the setting sun," Scruff said with a tone of pride. "Those are just the mirrors though, would you like to see the controls?"

Well... maybe he wasn't so bad. "Sure!"

A few hours later, Hopediah was in his element. So far, everything had gone off without a hitch. It wasn’t quite a full house, but the audience watched with bated breath, perched on the edges of their seats, their mouths stuffed full of popcorn.

They had reached the tragic climax of the play; most of the cast lay sprawled out on stage, swords clutched in armpits and splattered with enough fake blood to fill a pollywog's bucket. Hopediah knelt next to Violet, the play’s tragic love interest, and cradled her as she delivered her final monologue.

Despite her surly attitude earlier, she was quite the actress. She gazed up at him; her eyes looked wide and innocent as they shimmered with tears. "Oh, young prince, do not despair. Brief as it was, thou gave us hope for a better world. A gentle dream for our final rest..." Then, with a projected gasp, she went limp in his arms. Well, arm. One arm had been 'cut off' in a duel with the toad king at the end of act two, so it was tucked inside his coat and behind his back.

As Violet went still, Hopediah squeezed his eyes shut and gently laid her down, then stood up to take center stage. It was time to bring the play to a close.

"Oh sweet sorrow, all that is left for me now. My kingdom ravaged. My castle in ruins. My people... my friends, slain to the last." He gestured solemnly at the bodies of his compatriots, who lay scattered behind him. "A gentle dream, she said... if this is where it took me, I'd have rather stayed awake. To have labored tirelessly than to have lost everything I held dear and true."

He placed a hand over his breast pocket and widened his eyes as if he had just remembered something. From his inner coat pocket he drew out a vial filled with viscous purple liquid—in truth, just sugar and food coloring—and dramatically held it up to the crowd. "That foul witch Belda gave me this poison, saying it would lay low my greatest foe, but she would not tell me who that was." Hopediah began to pace the front end of the stage. "At first I thought surely it was destined for the toad king." He turned on his heel and paced back, "then I thought surely it was my brother who betrayed me for the throne." He returned to center stage.

"But now..." he gazed at the vial, "now, surrounded by the ruins of my life, I see exactly who my foe is, without question." A gasp went through the crowd as Hopediah used his thumb to uncork the vial. The theater’s glowshrooms all clicked off, which left only a gentle backlight that silhouetted the lead actor. He raised the vial above his head and declared, "Oh poison, rob me of that which I have left in abundance but have no need for! Age me unto death!"

High above the crowd, Scruff pulled a lever, and a dozen mirrors and focusing lenses harnessed the light of the setting sun to shine brightly down onto Hopediah, who burst into a cloud of stardust. The sudden technicolor sparkles elicited another stunned gasp from the crowd and almost drew one from the other actors on stage.

Hop Pop was dazed for a moment as the smoke cleared, revealing his aged, wrinkled form. A general cry of distress rose from the crowd. In any other circ*mstance, Hop Pop might have been disoriented and demanded to know what was happening. But he was a professional, no matter how many years it had been. Hop Pop clutched desperately at his heart before dropping to his knees and falling over dead.

The spotlight died as the curtains closed, and the crowd went absolutely wild. Raucous applause filled the massive opera house. The actors all picked themselves up, grinning at each other at a show well done, despite all the troubles. Fen joined them on stage to take a bow as the curtains opened again. The sundial spotlight came back on and swept over the line of actors who all bowed in succession and then waved enthusiastically to the crowd.

Fen slipped into the spot next to Hop Pop, and whispered, "Wonderful job, Hopediah, I wish you had let us all in on your little surprise makeup change, but I have to say, it had the desired effect; you look like you have one foot in the grave!"

"Well, thanks I guess. I always love this dream," Hop Pop said wistfully. "Gonna hate to wake up."

Fen laughed uproariously. "Hopediah, you're not dreaming. This is all real! You're a star!"

Hop Pop nodded, taking the words in stride but starting to frown. "Wait... this is all real?" He felt a low thrum of panic, which was punctuated by a high pitched scream from above. The spotlight quickly swiveled to track a pink frog in a muddy green vest plummeting towards the stage. "SPRIG!!!???"

Chapter 10: Youthspresso - Part 3 : Adventures in Babysitting

Chapter Text

As Sprig stood between Hop Pop and the door, he searched his grandfather's newly wrinkle-free face. He’d seen his grandfather direct a wide variety of emotions at him: annoyance, warmth, disappointment, worry, pride. Now, though, he saw none of that; instead, he was looking at Sprig with… confused detachment.

Hop Pop’s eyes flicked to the side. "That thing yours?" young Hop Pop asked and Sprig turned around.

Marcy staggered out of the cloud of smoke by the table, which had finally started to dissipate. She had changed far more drastically – she stood just a hair taller than Sprig. Her clothes had shrunk to match, but she still managed to trip over the hem of her pajama pants and landed facedown on the carpet with a quiet squeak. She looked up to see Zappy in his cage, and her eyes lit up. "Giant centipede!" She scrambled to her feet and walked over to the cage, entranced. "You look bigger than a Scolopendra gigantea..." she murmured. She slowly reached her hands out towards the cage.

"Marcy, wait!" Sprig felt a rush of panic and jumped over to pull Marcy away from the cage mere moments before Zappy mischievously clicked its mandibles and demonstrated its namesake with a loud buzz. He gripped her shoulders and spun her around to face him. "What are you doing!?" She had slapped Sprig's hand away from Zappy's cage enough times for him to know that it was dangerous.

Sprig heard the creak of the hallway door and turned just in time to see Hop Pop leave, pulling the door shut behind him as he went. "Marcy, why's Hop Pop acting like he doesn't-"

Sprig turned back to look at Marcy, who stared back at him with wide eyes. She glanced around the room, joyous curiosity quickly giving way to nervous fear. "Who are you? W-where am I?"

Sprig felt a pit of dread as he finally realized what had happened.

Polly looked down on the two of them from her perch on the bed, expression flat. "Wow, you were right. This is going great."

Sprig paced around the room, trying to keep calm. Marcy had pulled a comforter from one of the beds and used it to cocoon herself underneath the writing desk.

Things had not gone according to plan, but he could fix this. He just needed some time to think.

Then a knock sounded from the balcony door. The one that connected to Sasha’s room. Sprig's heart skipped a beat. He jumped to try to intercept her at the door, but he wasn’t able to reach it before Sasha let herself in.

As she entered the room, her focus remained on a partially unrolled scroll in her hands. "Hey, Squirt. Polly." She glanced around the room for a moment. "Marcy still getting ready?"

"Uh-huh, sure, what'cha got there?" Sprig asked, desperately hoping to distract her long enough to think of an actual plan.

"Oh, response from Newtopia U. Said me and Marcy could raid their library for information." Sprig scrambled to get out of the way as she strolled confidently past him.

"Neat! Do you think they’ll have anything on the box?" Sprig carefully positioned himself between her and the desk that his older (younger?) sister was still hiding under.

"No idea. Mostly I’m just trying to get Marcy out of the castle for a bit," Sasha explained. "Get lunch in town, relax, you know."

"You know my name?" A small voice popped up and Sprig braced himself for what came next. Marcy had poked her head out from her blanket fort and looked up at Sasha with wide, hopeful eyes.

Sasha gaped down at Marcy like she had seen a ghost.

"You're human too. Do you know Anne Boon-chuy?" Marcy sounded out the syllables carefully. "We were going to go to the park together but..." she looked around, visibly confused and distressed. "But now I'm here..."

Sprig jumped into Sasha’s view and awkwardly gestured towards Marcy. "So. As you can see, we're kind of dealing with a situation here."

Sprig watched the energy drain out of Sasha. Moments ago, she’d looked ready to take on the day. Now, she just looked exhausted, and she turned away to rub at her eyes. “It’s way too early for this.”

Sprig heard a little whine of distress from Marcy and he returned his attention to her. "Hey- hey, it's alright." Sprig tried to sound reassuring, but it didn't seem to do much; Marcy looked close to tears. "It'll be alright." At first he was just trying to comfort Marcy, but honestly he also needed the reassurance. "No one here is going to hurt you."

Marcy sniffled and huddled back down into her blanket fort.

Behind him, Polly snickered. "Hey Sprig? You might want to see this."

Sprig turned and saw her pointing towards the breakfast table. Sasha was sitting on the table, drinking deeply from a mug imprinted with the emblem of the kingdom. "Okay. We can handle this." Sasha set the mug aside. "First, how did this-" she was interrupted as another puff of magic suddenly exploded out from her.

Sprig waved at the cloud of smoke and looked at his younger sister—no wait, he had two of those now—he looked at Polly. "Polly! Why didn't you stop her?!"

Polly shrugged. "At this point I just want to see how bad things can get."

Sasha walked out of the smoke cloud, waving her hands to clear the air. She was just a little taller than Marcy. She looked around the room suspiciously. "Where am I?" She held out her tunic with a raised eyebrow. "What the heck am I wearing?"

“Uh…” Sprig said eloquently.

Her eyes snapped up to focus on him, and she took a step closer to loom over him. "Who are you?" She pounded her fist into an open palm. "If you're trying to kidnap me, Dad says it's okay to bite, punch, and kick you to get away."

Sprig backed away and held up his hands to placate her. "Wait! Wait! Look, Marcy's here!" he insisted, gesturing back towards the desk. "You two are friends, right?" Maybe they could keep each other calm.

Sasha leaned to the side to look behind him. After a moment she straightened back up. "I have never seen this girl before in my life."

Sprig paused and glanced back at Marcy, who nervously shook her head. Man. He just could not catch a break today, could he?

"Okay." Sprig ran over to Zappy's cage and grabbed Marcy's phone. "There has to be a way to reverse the potion." He fumbled the unlock pattern twice before he managed to get it open.

"Uh, Sprig?" Polly asked.

Sprig ignored Polly, and focused on navigating the phone’s menus. He accidentally opened the camera and had to back out to find the photo album.

“Spriiig!” Polly tapped him on the head with her flipper, but he waved her off as he finally found the page he was looking for – ‘ The Potion of Youth .’ He carefully scanned through the entry, trying to see how long it was supposed to last.

His eyes finally found the answer he was looking for. “ Those affected by the potion of youth will be reverted to their original ages by the touch of the setting sun!” he read aloud with relief. So all he had to do was keep them here all day and make sure they were on the balcony at nightfall. Crisis averted. Then he spotted the tiny text at the bottom. He zoomed in on it. “ ...if the afflicted stay in this form for more than a day, they can lose weeks if not months of memories from their true age!? ”

"Sprig. They left." Polly said.

Sprig looked up from Marcy’s phone and saw the comforter abandoned beneath the desk. He spun around to look for Sasha, only to find that she was also gone, and the front door of the room was ajar. Sprig stuffed the phone into his pocket and felt panic start to overtake him.

He tried to think rationally. He either had to leave Polly here on her own so he could chase after Marcy, or he had to stay here with Polly and hope Marcy would be fine on her own for the next twelve hours and be outside when the sun went down. Sprig thought about how Polly learned to wield a flail before she learned to use a pencil, and then he thought back to when Marcy had almost eaten a quick death shroom the first day they met.

Sprig pocketed Marcy’s phone and grabbed some things from her bag. "Polly, stay here! I need to get Marcy and Sasha before they get hurt!" Sprig threw the door wide open, dashed through, and frantically looked up and down the hall. He heard a cry at the far end of the corridor where he saw Marcy had tripped and fallen. Sasha hurried Marcy to her feet and then dragged her around the corner. Sprig sprinted after them, hoping to catch them before they could get too far.

The door guards started to chase after him. "Young master Plantar is attempting to go off on his own! Restrain him!"

Sprig ducked under the grasping arms of the guard in his path. "Wait! This is important, I need to find my sister!" he cried.

Sprig managed to evade them, but it had cost him valuable time; he’d lost sight of Marcy and Sasha, and had to resort to guessing every time he came to an intersection. As he ran, more and more guards rushed to join the chase to catch Sprig. He was just starting to tire when he abruptly came across a familiar face in the labyrinthine halls.

General Yunan wandered through the halls, distracted by her thoughts. “Greetings Hopediah, I apologize for the attempt on your life… no, too direct… Plantars! While I understand your hesitation to trust me, I hope… no, no…”

Her attention was abruptly drawn by the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps, and she looked up to see the Plantar boy beelining towards her. “General Yunan!”

“Ah, Sprig, correct?” Sprig panted heavily as he staggered to a halt in front of her. “I, the Great General Yunan, owe you and your family an apology. While misled by the traitor Grime, my hasty actions nearly-”

“Yunan! You gotta- gak- ” he leapt at her, arms outstretched, but was abruptly halted in midair as her hand snapped out and grabbed him by the throat.

Oh, that’ll help. “Ah, sorry. Force of habit.” She loosened her grip and gently set him on the ground. He doubled over at the waist, massaging his throat as he struggled to catch his breath. “You seem distressed…” She looked up to see a procession of guards coming around the corner ahead of her, looking haggard and out of breath. “Do they have something to do with it?”

“General!”One of the guards slid to a stop in front of Yunan and snapped off a sharp salute. “My apologies. Lady Olivia has us under orders to not let the boy wander the castle unescorted,” the guard explained. She saw him resist the urge to mirror Sprig’s posture, and made a mental note to add a commendation to his file for his professionalism.

Sprig straightened up, still fighting for breath, and managed to wheeze, “Marcy… Sasha… in trouble. Need to find them… before sun- sundown!”

Yunan furrowed her brow as she directed her gaze to the guards standing in front of her. “Thank you all for your service, I will escort the young Plantar to where he needs to go. Return to your patrols.” Sprig sighed in relief. A few of the guards glared resentfully at Sprig’s back, but they quickly dispersed as ordered. Yunan returned her attention to the boy. “Now, what was all that about the humans?”

Sprig clung onto Yunan's shoulder as they worked their way through the different routes Marcy and Sasha could have taken through the castle. After almost two hours of questioning every guard and servant they came across, they discovered, much to Sprig's distress, that the two girls had made it out to the streets of Newtopia.

"Yes, general, we saw Captain Waybright and Lady Regina pass by the gates not too long ago. They seemed fine," one guard reported.

"The dark haired one was dressed a little sloppily, but that hardly seemed our place to comment on."

Yunan looked at Sprig suspiciously. "You’re sure those two are in trouble?"

"Yes!" Sprig said. He looked back at the two guards. "Weren’t they really small or something?"

"Oh yes, they were about your height, actually.”

Yunan's gaze shifted back onto the two guards with a raised brow. "And that didn't seem worth mentioning?"

The two guards glanced at each other. "Are... is that not normal for them?" one asked.

"We figured it was a human thing." The other guard shrugged. "I mean, after hearing what Captain Waybright has done..."

"I heard a rumor that the black haired one got a scorpoleo into a cage by asking it. Who knows what they can do? "

Yunan scowled for a moment and leaned in to whisper to Sprig. "Are we sure this isn't a human thing?"

"Yes!" he hissed back.

"Alright." Yunan cleared her throat and addressed the guards again. "So, which way did they go?"

"Oh, those two brats? Yeah, I saw them just a bit ago. They robbed Frank the Baker over there blind." The grizzled old newt in front of an ice-cream cart thumbed over to a bakery stand where a disappointed baker looked ruefully at a corner of his display, which was conspicuously bereft of breads and sweets.

"You didn't stop them?" Yunan asked curiously.

"Never liked Frank the Baker," the ice-cream seller said, pointing his scoop at both of them. "Moved into the neighborhood thirty years ago with my name , acting all buddy buddy with everyone." He shook his head and spat on the ground. "Fraud. Feel bad for those kids really. Gonna get a stomach ache from that trash."

"Right, anyways-" Yunan said, trying to brush past the comment.

"Oh!" Sprig said innocently. "If he's Frank the Baker, then are you Frank the Ice Cream Man?"

"No." Frank the Ice Cream Man denied vehemently. "I am not 'Frank the Ice Cream Man', I'm not 'Other Frank', or 'Mean Frank'. I'm Frank. Just Frank, I was here first, frog dang it."

"Sure, Frank." Yunan suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. "But about the little ones, did you see where they went?"

"What do I look like, Don Gillz over here? I sell ice cream, not information. You buy some ice cream, maybe I'll tell you which way they went," Frank said with a shrug.

Sprig's eyes were drawn magnetically down to the three tubs of icecream in the cart. It had taken super-amphibian levels of willpower to avoid distraction the entire time.

Yunan gave the standowner a hard stare. "Are you intending to extort a peacekeeper trying to find missing children?" She said with a dire edge. The vendor shifted nervously. "I could have you-"

"Wouldn't be so bad," Sprig offered innocently. "I mean, on a day as hot as this one," he elaborated, as he exaggeratedly fanned himself with his hand.

Yunan rolled her eyes but relented. "Fine." She fished a small coin purse out of her belt and counted out four copper coins. "Two cones."

"Two?" Sprig asked curiously.

"Listen, if we're stopping for ice cream," she pointed between both of them, "then we're stopping for ice cream."

Frank the Ice Cream Man quickly served up their cones (chocopeedle ice cream for Sprig and vanilla with cricket-bits for Yunan) and told them he had last seen Marcy and Sasha heading towards a nearby park. As they walked, Sprig examined the general more closely. He had mostly asked for her help out of desperation. She was intense – really intense – but she seemed fairly good natured despite that. He was still wary of her after what had happened in the valley, but he was also really curious.

"So... uh, no hard feelings about the valley, huh?" Sprig started off awkwardly.

"There aren't? Excellent. That is a weight off my mind," Yunan chomped into her ice cream like a shark.

It took a moment for Sprig to understand her meaning. "No- I mean you don't resent us for escaping?" he clarified.

"No? Your grandfather was innocent," Yunan said with a shrug. "I have no cause to hold anything against you, and your actions were justified."

Huh, that was pretty refreshing. "And Marcy?" Sprig flinched as a little crack appeared in the sugar cone Yunan was holding at the sound of Marcy's name. Sprig nervously cleared his throat. "Not uh, angry about that fight on the mountain, are you?"

"No. She kept me from making a tragic mistake." Yunan’s voice was tight, but he didn’t detect any malice.

Sprig relaxed. "Good. I don't know if Sasha told you, but Marcy checked to make sure you'd survive after we left."

The cone Yunan held was abruptly crushed into sugary bits as her hand clenched into a fist. "Ah, dangit," she grumbled. She tossed the remainder of the ice cream into her maw.

Sprig stared at the newt for a few moments and tried to puzzle out what exactly was going on. Then it came to him. He spoke slowly, unable to keep the incredulity out of his voice. "Are you... mad that Marcy spared you?"

"What?" Yunan’s voice pitched dramatically upwards as she licked her gauntlet clean. "That'd be ridiculous. Totally unreasonable," she insisted as they came close to the park.

Sprig continued to stare at her for a few moments longer. “You are, aren’t you?”

Yunan groaned. "It was a little insulting."

"Seriously?" Sprig asked.

"I mean, I consider myself a threat. She bested me in single combat, the first opponent in my many years of service to have done so, and she didn't even take the opportunity to finish me off!" Yunan gestured angrily in front of her. "What, was I not worth the effort?"

Sprig absorbed the tirade passively. Yunan trailed off and pouted as they strode into the park, and her eyes started darting along the ground. "...You have issues, huh?" Sprig guessed, and Yunan shrugged, not particularly concerned by the accusation. "Well, Marcy doesn't like hurting people. I don't think her decision to spare you had anything to do with how strong you are, if that makes you feel any better about it."

Yunan considered the words for a moment and then nodded. "You know, it actually does."

Sprig had heard of a ‘park’ a few times before, but he just found himself confused as he looked around at the various trees that hung over dirt paths and bushes below. It was like some kind of weird garden in the middle of the city. Cities were weird. There was a much bigger forest just outside the walls, filled with all sorts of weird and interesting creatures.

Yunan paused on the path as she spotted something in the dirt. "Ah, here we are..." Yunan crouched down to the ground, and pointed to a few faint imprints in the dirt.

"Tracks!" Sprig said. "These are fresh too, we're getting close." Which was good, it wasn’t quite sunset yet, but it was closer than Sprig would’ve liked.

"Well spotted," Yunan agreed. "Have you been on a manhunt before?"

"Nope, just regular hunting," Sprig said modestly.

"Well, come along then, we’re almost done with this little hunt of ours." They took a moment to share a feral grin before Yunan sped down the street.

As they exited the park, Sprig heard screaming in the distance. Sprig held on for dear life as Yunan dropped down onto all fours to accelerate towards the disturbance.

“AHHHHHH! Pink eyed monster!” A little newt kid came skidding around the street corner. Yunan narrowly avoided running straight over him and rushed to where he had just come from. There was quite a sight waiting for them.

Sasha stood in the middle of the sidewalk, shoulders heaving with every breath as her eyes frantically darted between a number of newt children that were scattered on the ground in front of her, all cowering in fear. Then, she abruptly seemed to lose her balance, staggered to the side, and clutched at her head. “I… I don’t feel so good.”

Yunan strolled up behind Sasha without hesitation and hauled her up by the collar of her tunic. Yunan held her at arm’s length and turned her around to get a better look at her. "Frog, she's tiny..."

Sasha flailed in her grasp, wildly swinging her fists and kicking at her as she gritted her teeth. "Let go of me you big stupid ugly lizard!" she spat.

"Same Sasha on the inside, though," Yunan said with a toothy grin.

"Once my dad gets a hold of you, you're gonna be sorry!"

Sprig surveyed the situation. Four newt children were sprawled in the street. Tears flowed freely and several of them whimpered as they nursed fresh-looking bruises. All of them watched Sasha warily as she twisted violently in Yunan’s grasp. Sprig frowned when he realized there was still no sign of Marcy. He hopped up onto Yunan's shoulder and addressed Sasha directly. "Sasha, where's Marcy?"

"Not telling you." Sasha said defiantly. "Who's Marcy? Why do you think I know ‘em?"

"Cause you just said you're not telling us?" Yunan responded flatly. Sasha, however, refused to budge.

"I demand a lawyer!" she said hotly.

Sprig and Yunan looked at each other. "Do you know what a lawyer is?" Sprig whispered.

"Probably another weird human thing." Yunan replied. "You're not getting it, whatever it is."

"It's a ‘who,’ not an ‘it,’ dummy." Sasha chastised.

Yunan sighed and started to walk forward. "Listen, if you don't help us find her, then she might get hurt."

"Better than being eaten!" Sasha accused a confused Yunan.

"What are you-?" was all Yunan managed to get out before everything went to heck.

Sprig’s only warning was a faint shine from something rolling across the ground at Yunan’s feet. Yunan’s feet kicked out wildly as she slipped. She lost her grip on Sasha as she fell, and Sprig heard a painful sounding crack as the back of her head hit the cobblestone.

Sprig managed to land on his feet and spotted movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned to see Marcy, still in her pajamas. Her eyes were teary, but determined, and they glowed with faint green light. He had just started to open his mouth to reassure her when she flung a fistful of sand into his face.

"Gah!" Sprig cried. He spat out a mouthful of sand as he rubbed at his eyes to try to get them to stop stinging.

"Sorry!" Marcy's voice called out as Sprig heard two pairs of little footsteps recede into the distance.

The ground disappeared from beneath him as Yunan hauled him up onto her shoulder. "Come on, they're getting away!"

Sprig was eventually able to pry one eye open, and watched as Marcy darted into an alleyway, Sasha hot on her heels. "Wai-" he tried to call out to plead with them, but he was interrupted by a coughing fit; his mouth was still full of sand.

As they turned the corner into the alleyway they were immediately pelted with tiny bits of... something. Sprig didn’t have time to figure out what, because a flock of four dozen-odd gultches fluttered into a hurricane of feathers as they pecked at him and Yunan with razor sharp beaks and chitinous talons.

"Ow! Ow! Ow!" Sprig flailed his arms in an attempt to shoo the horid things away.

"Gah! Get off, you vermin!" Yunan was forced back into the road by the sheer ferocity of the bug-birds. Sprig thought he could just barely make out Marcy and Sasha at the other end of the alley when a giant rhinoceros beetle at the head of a trash wagon dipped its horn and scooped him and Yunan up into the air, dropping them into a wagon filled with rotting food and refuse from the entire city.

The two of them sat there in stunned silence for a moment. Sprig coughed out the last of the sand; Yunan plucked a fish skeleton from her armor and flicked it away. Her voice was flat when she finally spoke. "Y’know, one of these days I'm gonna learn not to underestimate that girl."

They hopped out of the truck and backtracked to the alley, but Marcy and Sasha were long gone. Sprig looked up at the sky, painted a vibrant orange as the sun dipped closer to the horizon.

“Damn… lost them again,” Yunan growled in frustration. “Any ideas on where they went?”

“No…” Sprig felt around in his pocket and fished out the vial with the last of Marcy’s paper golem potion in it. He really didn’t want to have to resort to this, but they were running out of time. “...but I think I might have a way to find them,” Sprig said. He pulled out the paper holder from his ice cream from earlier and folded it into a little paper airplane. It was a little lopsided, but it would have to be good enough. He drizzled the last of the potion over it and watched it come to life. It faced Sprig and waited for instructions. “Can you find Marcy, please? But don’t get too far away from us.”

The little golem bobbed up into the air and started to fly off, but stopped at the end of the alley and waited for Sprig and Yunan to catch up.

With the paper golem leading them, it didn’t take too long to locate Marcy and Sasha again. The girls were still sticking together, and they were starting to slow down. In any case, they had nowhere to hide, so even if they kept running it wouldn’t be so bad. They’d be caught in the setting sun and the whole mess would be settled.

Sprig and Yunan were hot on their tail as they turned into a back alley. One side of the alley was dominated by a single titanic building that would have dwarfed anything in Wartwood, though like everything in Newtopia, it was tiny compared to the royal palace.

A newt in a strange costume was leaning against the wall next to an open door, with a thin, burning, white twig sticking out of her mouth. Marcy and Sasha slipped through the door behind her as she smothered the ember against the wall. She turned, kicked a doorstop loose from the door’s base, and started to step through, pulling the door shut behind her.

"Wait!" Sprig called out through the alleyway.

The newt looked up, exasperated. "Nope! You want to see the show, you buy a ticket!" she called back before quickly grabbing the doorstop and slamming the heavy door closed behind her. Their little paper golem slipped inside just before the door slammed shut.

Yunan and Sprig got to the door, but there was no handle on the outside. Yunan rapped on it with a gauntleted fist.

"Open this door at once! I'm the Great General Yunan! Scourge of the Sand-"

"I don't care if you're the lead’s mother! You buy a ticket like everyone else." The newt’s voice was muffled by the door. "Show's almost over anyways, come back tomorrow."

Sprig tried to continue banging, but Yunan scooped him up and circled around the building. They bowled over the ticket taker and burst into a huge open room. It was even bigger than the king's audience chamber, and absolutely packed full of people. It was dominated by a well-lit stage, on which two dozen amphibians were engaged in a pitched mock-battle; periodically, one would break away to give a brief aside to the audience before dying dramatically.

"This is bad..." Sprig whispered.

Yunan crossed her arms judgmentally. "Indeed, their swordsmanship is atrocious."

"No, I mean we're running out of time!" An audience member turned around and shushed him as his voice rose in volume.

Yunan nodded. "Right, we should split up." She leaned down to allow Sprig to hop off her shoulder, and they took off in opposite directions.

Sprig ran down the aisles and frantically looked for the two shrunken humans, but couldn’t find any sign of them in the darkened room. After he had fruitlessly searched a few dozen rows, Sprig forced himself to stop and think.

How would Marcy approach this situation, if she was looking for Sprig and Polly? He tapped his foot as he concentrated. He tried to remember where the back door was. They had gone around the entire building to get to the entrance… which meant it would have been... behind that stage. In the back left corner!

Sprig quickly made his way to the front of the stage and slipped under the heavy curtains. Fortunately, the audience’s eyes were glued to the massive conflict on stage. Sprig stayed out of sight of the few other actors who were backstage; most of them were too busy to notice him, as they prepared for the finale or watched the ongoing performance.

Sprig made it to the back corner of the building. It was much quieter back here, and it sounded like the stage battle had died down. Just as he hoped, he saw the door they had been stopped at before. A big pile of junk was stuffed into the corner beneath a massive wooden staircase. His little paper plane floated there as it anxiously fluttered back and forth. He ran over to it and scooped it into his palms. “Hey, I’m here. Where’s Marcy?” In response, the plane hopped out of Sprig’s hands and flew straight up. He followed its progress for a moment, then looked past it and spotted Marcy and Sasha at the top of the staircase.

He let out a relieved breath. "Marcy!" he called. The girls froze, startled, but quickly sped up to get away.

Sprig took off after them, and decided to forgo the stairs; instead, he hopped up to a strut, then kicked off towards the wall to mimic the 'triangle jumping' he had seen in one of Marcy's shift games.

As he got closer, he could see that Sasha was carrying Marcy on her back. A moment later, they disappeared from sight over the top of the steps. "Please, wait! I promise I’m not trying to hurt you!" Sprig tried to keep the desperation out of his voice, to no avail. He reached the top of the stairs and saw that Sasha had run out onto a narrow wooden bridge, suspended over the massive room below them. Marcy clung tightly to her back while Sasha supported her legs. "We're running out of time!" Sprig called out as he stepped onto the bridge as well, feeling it sway slightly under his feet.

Sasha wheeled on Sprig and shot him a fiery glare. She carefully crouched to deposit Marcy on the ground behind her and then turned back towards Sprig. "Leave us alone!" she demanded. Sprig could just make out a flicker of pink light in her eyes as she planted herself between him and Marcy and raised her tiny fists in front of her face. Sprig gulped; from what she’d done to those other kids, he didn’t doubt her ability to defend herself.

Worse than anything Sasha could do to him, though, was the look on Marcy’s face as she gazed fearfully at him from behind Sasha. She wasn’t just looking at him as a stranger, but as a threat .

He felt a new understanding of Marcy's fears that Sprig and Polly could be afraid of her; this felt awful.

From far below, a familiar voice bellowed out, "Age me unto death!"

A mechanical cranking sound echoed through the loft as the blinds covering an enormous window at the back of the gallery opened up. The hazy light of sunset was focused into a zig-zag pattern around the catwalk, beams of sunlight ricocheting between an elaborate series of mirrors scattered around the upper levels. One passed directly through the space behind Sasha and Marcy, but evidently the ambient light wasn’t enough to transform them back.

Sprig took a deep breath and forced his panic down as he slowly stepped closer. "Please, listen... we don't have much time."

Chapter 11: Youthspresso - Part 4 : Kidcatcher

Chapter Text

Marcy tried to remain calm as the other girl dragged her along the hallway. She abruptly yanked her to the side into an alcove, and pressed them both against the wall, hand clasped over Marcy’s mouth. Marcy trembled at the sound of thundering footsteps. The frog boy that had greeted them ran past their hiding place at the head of a group of armed guards.

Luckily, they didn't spot Marcy or her savior as they charged past the alcove. Once their calls and footfalls disappeared down the hallway, the other girl let out the breath she’d been holding and turned to Marcy. "Hey, sorry about that, are you alright? You took a pretty bad fall back there."

"I'm okay," Marcy insisted.

"Well, you woke up before me, right? Do you know what's going on?"

Marcy shook her head, then thought more about it. "I think you were a big kid before, and then you kind of... transformed?"

The other girl frowned and shook her head. "No, that must have been someone else. Last thing I remember I was getting dressed for school, and then the next thing I know I’m standing in that weird room back there."

Marcy was pretty sure that wasn’t right, since the girl in front of her was wearing the same outfit as the taller girl she’d seen first, but she decided to keep it to herself.

"Alright, well if we're going to be working together, then we should introduce ourselves. I'm Sasha Waybright. That alien called you Marcy, is that right?"

"Yeah, that's right... you think they're aliens?" Marcy was skeptical. She'd read stories about aliens before, but as far as she knew humanity had never had any real contact with them, just hoaxes and stuff.

"Well yeah, they’ve got weird buggy eyes and slimy skin," Sasha explained. "I bet they brought us here to eat us," Sasha whispered, turning back to the edge of the alcove and looking around. "Coast is clear." Without looking, she extended a hand behind her for Marcy to grab onto. Marcy shyly took hold and almost tripped as Sasha made a mad dash to a new hiding place, this time behind a giant white marble statue.

“Eat us?” She didn’t think that sounded quite right. Surely, aliens had more efficient means of food production. “Why would they come all the way to Earth just for groceries? Wouldn’t that be expensive?”

Sasha thought for a moment and looked around. "Well, look how fancy this place is. We're probably like a delicacy here," she said, gesturing up at the intricate statue.

Marcy frowned thoughtfully. Sasha sounded pretty confident, and Marcy didn't have a better idea for why they were there. Her confusion gave way to worry. She didn't want to be eaten. She looked back at Sasha, who was scouting their next hiding spot. "Why are you helping me?"

"’Cause you needed help." Sasha spoke like it was obvious. “Mom helps kids in trouble all the time, and I’m gonna be just like her.” She grinned reassuringly.

There was an unshakable confidence in the other girl’s eyes and Marcy felt herself start to calm down. She took a deep breath and nodded. "Alright. What should we do?"

"Hmmm..." Sasha thought for a moment, brow all scrunched up. "First we ought to sneak our way out of here, this is probably the mansion of whoever plans on eating us..."

Sasha trailed off as the sound of booming footsteps echoed from the vaulted ceilings. Sasha crouched and pulled Marcy down with her to hide behind the base of the marble statue. They peered around the corner to look down the hall. A bunch of the aliens—the salamander looking ones—were all talking and debating one another as they passed by a crossway in the halls. An enormous, finely dressed blue lizard wearing a crown of stone brought up the rear, ducking slightly as he passed under one of the oversized doorways.

Sasha turned to look at her, face pale. "That's probably the one who wants to eat us."

Despite Sasha's earlier concern, Marcy turned out to be a pretty reliable companion for their adventure. She was also really smart! Sasha had led them in circles around the hallways until Marcy had managed to find the stairs and navigate them from there to the front entrance. Which was great, even if Marcy did look like a nervous wreck the whole time, and tripped every time they passed a painting or sculpture. Which was often. There were a lot of paintings and sculptures.

They had managed to avoid notice by anyone really dangerous so far. They’d hidden from guard patrols and dodged a few servants, but now they faced a problem. Marcy had managed to find the entrance, but there were two guards standing between them and freedom. Sasha knew that she could sneak past them, but Marcy was a lot less stealthy. They’d been spotted at least a few times on the way down, which at least meant that not everyone knew that the king had children on his menu.

As she carefully observed the entrance, she felt herself being watched. She turned around, but just found Marcy staring at the floor. She turned back to the entrance. Lots of aliens were passing in and out of the castle, but only the aliens coming in were stopped and questioned. "Alright... Dad says if you act like you belong, people won’t question you being someplace you’re not supposed to be." She felt Marcy watching her again and checked over her shoulder and found her focused on the ceiling now. Sasha squinted suspiciously at Marcy and slowly turned back to look at the guards. "We just have to-" she suddenly whirled back around, and finally caught Marcy staring at her. "What?"

Marcy averted her eyes again and started to nervously tap on her knuckles. "Sorry," she said, clearly hoping that would be the end of it, but Sasha crossed her arms and waited for an actual explanation. "It's just… your outfit looks a lot like the one worn by this character from a game I played at Anne's house," she explained. She started to smile. "It's called The Saga of Ganon and it’s about this cool heroic lady named Zelda who has to purge the land of evil." Her eyes slowly rose to meet Sasha’s and she started to speak more quickly as she continued. "She's really cool and has a sword and magic and- and..." She seemed to catch herself mid sentence and Sasha saw her start to panic. "And... your outfit just reminded me of it was all…" she trailed off, and hunched her shoulders as she returned to staring at the ground.

Sasha blinked. Well that was a lot. She frowned as Marcy wilted, and then glanced back at the guards. There was a chance they could slip out undetected, but if Marcy looked nervous the whole time then it might not work. "What's the game about?" Sasha asked and Marcy looked up at her with confusion. "This… Saga of Ganon? What's it about?"

Marcy looked hesitant for a moment, but Sasha nodded encouragingly and she started to unleash a flood of information. "Okay, so the game is really fun! It's like part puzzles where you use your magic to solve them but there's also enemies you have to fight, and you have to roll and duck and dodge out of the way while timing out your attacks to do damage!" Marcy mimed broad sword strokes with one hand while Sasha grabbed the other one and started walking towards the front entrance, Marcy following distractedly along. "But-- but also there's a really cool story playing out at the same time. You're adventuring to save the Prince, Ganon, and the whole world besides! See there's this cycle playing out, century after century, generation after generation-"

They passed by the entrance at the same time that a dozen others were coming inside. One of the guards looked at Sasha, confused, but Sasha returned his gaze with a self assured smile as Marcy continued to talk about her game. Just as Sasha had hoped, neither of the guards stopped them and soon they were down the street, around a corner, and officially out of the kid-eater’s castle.

"-So each of them has one piece of the Triskalion. Zelda has the Triskalia of Wisdom and-" Marcy paused as she suddenly realized that they had changed locations. "Oh, we're outside."

"Yep, we escaped!" Sasha said proudly. "Now all we have to do is find a spaceship and get home!"

Marcy nodded and stared self-consciously at her feet as she quietly followed after Sasha. After the torrent of words from earlier, the silence was strange. Sasha couldn’t say that she had understood most of it, but she caught enough to know that Marcy thought she looked like the heroine, which was good enough for her. Besides, Marcy seemed really happy to talk about it.

"So who's Anne?"

"Hm?"

“You mentioned you played that game at Anne’s house, who’s she?”

“Oh!” Marcy brightened again. “Anne Boon-chuy!” she offered excitedly. “She has soft brown hair, her favorite color is yellow, she hates school, her family is from Thailand, she likes princess movies, and she loves cats!” she rattled off without difficulty. “She’s my best friend! We were going to meet up today before… this happened.” She frowned. “... I hope she doesn’t think I forgot about her.”

Sasha shook her head. “Don’t worry.” She put a hand on Marcy’s shoulder and pointed a thumb at herself. “When we get back I’ll help you explain everything. If I back you up, she’ll have to believe us!”

Marcy’s shoulders finally relaxed, and she smiled gratefully at Sasha, for once not avoiding her eyes. “Thanks, Sasha.”

Sasha felt a warm bubbly feeling in her stomach and grinned back. “Yeah, of course. So, Zelda’s a hero, right? Who does she fight?” She led onwards.

Marcy cheerfully resumed her rambling as she followed along. “Oh, that’s the Nameless King! Well in the game we played together anyways, but their nature changes from game to game!”

Marcy crouched anxiously in an alleyway that connected to a market street, using the torn-off cuffs of her pajama pants to wrap up her feet to cushion them from the rough cobblestone. Sasha, meanwhile, stood at the mouth of the alleyway, watching out for danger. They’d gotten some odd looks, but no one had stopped them or tried to recapture them.

Marcy was more concerned by how aged everything looked. All the buildings looked more like Roman architecture than anything modern or futuristic. She suspected that their kidnappers had abducted them and then sold them to an underdeveloped world. If that was the case, their chances of getting back to Earth were insignificant.

Hey biggest worry, though, was Sasha’s latest plan.

"Alright, you stay here and play lookout. I'll sneak up and grab the goods," Sasha whispered. "I'll wait until he goes back inside before I make my move."

Marcy rubbed at her thumb. There were a lot of people around. "Isn't this wrong?" Marcy wheedled.

"Listen, until we get back to Earth, we're basically plucky orphans, just trying to survive," Sasha reasoned. "Mom says a kid's first priority is to keep ourselves alive and healthy. We need to eat something. So unless you have a better idea, this is how we get it.”

Marcy's stomach growled softly at the promise of food. "I don't know..."

"If Zelda was in our situation, would she let herself starve? Or would she steal a little to stay healthy enough to beat up The Nameless King?"

Marcy thought about it for a second. "Well... she does break a lot of people’s pots to take the money inside," she admitted.

“There, see? We’re just doing what we need to,” Sasha reassured.

There was a call from inside the bakery. "Frank! Got a fresh batch of rolls for ya!" the salamander alien who was manning the bakery stall turned around to go inside.

"Alright, wish me luck. Give me the signal if you spot anything," Sasha threw up her hood and dashed into the throng of shopping aliens.

"Wait, what... signal..." Marcy realized a bit too late that they hadn't actually worked out a system of warning to use. She nervously tapped on her legs as she watched Sasha duck through the crowd towards the bakery stall, slipping between pieces of cover to avoid drawing attention.

However, she was moving too slow, and Marcy could see that the baker was going to return before Sasha could get there. Marcy briefly tried to wave her down, but she was too far away, and Marcy's voice wouldn't carry through the crowd. Thinking fast, Marcy stepped out from her hiding place and ran up to the stand just as the baker returned. "H-Hi!" Marcy shouted. He jumped at the sudden exclamation, then turned to look at her. She tried to keep looking at him, but the sudden, focused attention was too much, and she quickly averted her eyes and kicked anxiously at the dirt.

After a moment, the newt broke the awkward silence. "Ah, hello there... you certainly are… unique." From the corner of her eye, Marcy saw Sasha's hand plucking breads and pastries from just out of sight. She forced her attention back to the newt as he spoke again. "Can I help you with something?" He sounded confused, but not unkind.

"I... I was wondering if you had something I could buy?" Marcy improvised, hoping to give Sasha more time.

"Well certainly, what-" He started to turn around to examine his wares so she interjected, "I-I'm allergic to flour."

He turned back to her. "Ah, well I'm afraid I might not have anything for you then. This is a bakery after all,” he said regretfully. “But you know what?" the baker crouched down to Marcy's level and pointed across the street. "I have a friend over there who has some of the best ice-cream in Newtopia! We actually share the same name, Frank! We've known each other for years! Nicest guy. My favorite is the chocopede surprise." Marcy looked over to see a newt handing out ice cream who stared back at them.

Marcy turned back to see Sasha giving her a thumbs up. Her other arm cradled various breads, and she quickly slipped away from the stand and scurried out of sight.

"Alright, I'll try that one." Marcy promised. Her eyes stayed glued to her feet.

"Sounds good, you have a good day now, alright?" Frank the Baker stood back up to his full height. Marcy quickly made her exit and ducked back into the alley they had been hiding in. She waited at the end of it until Sasha found her and the two of them escaped with their ill gotten goods. They set out towards a park they had found earlier for a mid afternoon meal.

Marcy stuffed the remains of her bread roll into her pocket for later as they exited from the other side of the park. Marcy guessed this was the city’s outer ring, near the walls. The construction looked more recent and substantially less sturdy – marble pillars decorated with coral quickly gave way to ramshackle structures built mostly of wood. She could hear ocean waves in the distance, and piles of sand were shoved up against walls and swept into gutters. She also started to notice that there was a flock of strange bird-bug hybrids shadowing them. They looked almost like seagulls, but their talons looked chitinous and their eyes were blank and black like roaches. Marcy gently tugged on Sasha’s hand to speed them past the mouth of an alleyway that was utterly infested with them.

Sasha tapped her chin thoughtfully as they arrived at a street corner. "Hmm... we've gotten some weird looks, But nobody seems to be trying to catch us again. Might be not everyone in the city wants to eat us... I'm gonna go ask around for directions. You want to hang back?"

Marcy nodded gratefully. She wasn't any good with people, and her nerves were still shot from distracting the baker earlier. Sasha gave her a quick smile and then walked away to find someone to talk to. Marcy watched her go, but her attention was drawn by a sudden outcry from further down the street, where a ring of alien children were shooting marbles in a circle chalked out on the stone.

She crept closer to watch, curious, but one of the kids spotted her and gave her a withering look before mumbling something to the others, which prompted uproarious laughter. Marcy quickly averted her eyes and started to back away, but she failed to notice the approach of a worker walking towards her with a heavy burden in their arms. They bumped into her, sending her stumbling towards the ring of alien children until she tripped over one of their tails and fell into the middle of their marble game.

She hissed in pain as her knees scraped on the stonework, and looked up to see the angry glares of five alien kids looming over her. "Hey weirdo, what was that for? I was about to win a Killapilla marble."

Marcy swallowed nervously and tried to push herself to her feet; her throat closed as she struggled to find the words to explain herself.

“Never heard of a spaceship…” Sasha muttered to herself, “How have none of these yokels heard of a spaceship before? It’s a ship that goes through space! It’s not rocket science… er… wait…”

"Ah!" Sasha’s musings were interrupted by the sound of her companion’s voice. She saw Marcy in the middle of a group of alien kids. As she got closer, she could start to make out what they were saying, and she picked up her pace.

"What kind of weird creature are you?" One jeered as he caught Marcy after another of the aliens pushed her. "Some kind of weird frog?" He shoved her towards one of his friends.

The second kid stopped her mid-stumble. "Naw, frogs are at least a little cute. She's way too ugly. Gotta be a toad." A mean spirited chuckle went through the crowd of aliens as he shoved Marcy again; this time she tripped on a cobblestone, landed on her knees and let out a pained whimper. Her eyes misted with tears as she curled up into a ball on the ground, revealing skinned knees.

The biggest one squatted down to get a better look at her. "Are you crying?” He scoffed. “Well, whatever she is, she's definitely a baby, huh guys?" They all snickered as Marcy curled into herself even more.

Sasha ground her teeth and stomped over to the group. "Hey! Leave her alone!" One of the aliens turned to look at her, unimpressed.

"Oh look, it’s another one."

"Some kind of circus in town?"

"Go back to your freak show, kid!"

"You better let her go or-" Sasha’s threats were interrupted as the biggest one stepped forward and gave her a hard shove, knocking her onto the ground.

"Unless you want to get hurt like your weirdo buddy, stay back. She ruined our game of marbles." He turned around, dismissing Sasha as they continued to torment Marcy.

Sasha felt a righteous anger build inside her as she pushed herself back to her feet. All of the bullies looked bigger and tougher than her, but Marcy needed help, and she wasn’t going to let her down now! She ran forward and grabbed the biggest bully by his tail and yanked, pulling him off of his feet. She swung him in a big circle around herself and then let go to send him soaring across the street, away from Marcy. The spinning had left her dizzy, but she recovered in time to shove another of the bullies as he lunged for her. Despite his size, he stumbled back away from her. It was odd – she felt so strong right now. It was finally happening! She was developing super powers!

Sasha grinned and punched one of the boys in the stomach. She grabbed him by the shirt as he doubled over and threw him into one of his friends, knocking them both prone. There was just one left standing; the smallest one that had said the meanest stuff. Sasha scowled at him, but internally she was cheering. She knew she could do this! She puffed out her chest and stared him down. “Now back away, bully, unless you want a pounding!”

He stared at her for a moment, slack-jawed, and then finally seemed to come to his senses. “AHHHHHH! Pink eyed monster!” He turned on his heel and ran down the street, quickly rounding a corner and disappearing from sight.

Sasha watched him go, then turned back to survey her work. The bullies were scattered around the street, ducking their heads or crawling away. “There! Now go and never bother any kids again! Or else… or else…” Suddenly, the strength that had coursed through her vanished, and her vision swam as she started to feel sick to her stomach. “I don’t… feel so good…” She clutched at her head with her hands to try to stop the world from spinning so fast, when she suddenly felt herself lifted off the ground as something yanked her up by the collar of her tunic.

"Frog, she's tiny..." Sasha abruptly found herself face-to-face with a shark mawed alien.

Sasha didn't feel strong as she tried to wrestle out of the hold. She felt tired and dizzy and helpless. What if they brought her back to that big stone mansion? Still, she could at least distract them and give Marcy a chance to get away. "Let go of me you big stupid ugly lizard!"

Marcy couldn't breathe. She was trying but she couldn't feel the air. She couldn't feel the grit of the sandy streets on her palms, or hear the distant cries of the bug-birds, or smell the ocean air. A heavily armored alien was dangling Sasha in the air. She was frozen mid swing, trying to twist herself out of the hold, and Marcy couldn't breathe.

She tried to get up, but when she did she left her body behind, frozen just like Sasha, which only made her chest constrict more tightly. She didn’t know what was happening, or why, and she just wanted things to start making sense!

"Oh, this is suboptimal." Marcy’s eyes snapped to the right to follow the voice, and she saw another her gazing serenely at her with glowing green eyes. They were dressed the same as Marcy, right down to the fresh rips in the knees of their pajama bottoms.

Marcy tried to ask them what was happening, or who they were, but all that she could get out were panicked gasps.

Her double frowned thoughtfully for a moment, and then lit up and snapped her fingers. "Oh, I know! We should use that trick Mr. Boonchuy showed you!" They held up a closed fist. "Breathe in- " her double started to inhale, slowly uncurling their fingers one at a time, counting to five.

Marcy took a hiccupping breath in.

"And out..." her double guided, slowly exhaling and dropping one finger at a time.

Marcy let out the breath too fast, but she started to feel some control returning.

"Great! One more time." They repeated the process.

It took a couple of tries, but Marcy slowly felt her breathing even out until it was back to normal, though she still felt anxious. She decided to focus on one problem at a time. "Who are you?"

"Unknown. I only know what you know," her double replied.

"Are you an imaginary friend?" Marcy hadn't thought those really existed. However, a lot of impossible things seemed to be happening today.

"It’s possible. I seem to only be able to talk to you." Her double shrugged, neither confirming nor denying the idea. "However, it wouldn’t explain why everything is suddenly frozen in place."

"Why are you here?"

"I am here to help you in any way I am able." The double gave her a small smile and tilted their head.

Well, Marcy could definitely use it. "... Do you have a name?"

"No," they responded simply.

Marcy thought for a moment. "Would it be alright if I called you Double?"

Double nodded. "If it will help." They waited for a few moments before asking, "Do you have additional questions, or shall we focus on the problem at hand?" Double gestured behind themselves to Sasha and the guards.

Marcy had many, many more questions about what was happening, but she didn't want to take up too much of Double's time if they were there to help. She shook her head.

"Very well. What is our highest priority?" Double asked. "At present, we want both to run away and to help Sasha, but those actions are mutually exclusive." Marcy felt a wave of shame overtake her. Sasha had done so much for her, but this was all really scary. It would be a lot safer to just run, but she wanted to be brave like Sasha. She wanted to help. She wanted- "Help Sasha it is," Double announced. They started to stroll around the street, looking at all the things littered around. "Now, what do we have to work with?"

"I demand a lawyer!" Sasha said hotly.

The aliens looked at each other, confused. "Do you know what a lawyer is?" the small one from the castle asked.

"Probably another weird human thing," the tall one replied. They looked back at Sasha sternly. "You're not getting it, whatever it is."

"It's a ‘who,’ not an ‘it,’ dummy." Sasha chastised.

The tall one sighed and started to walk forward. "Listen, if you don't help us find her, then she might get hurt."

Sasha tried to contort herself in midair to get an angle to bite the tall one’s arm, but no matter how much she struggled she couldn’t get enough leverage. From the corner of her eye, Sasha saw Marcy slowly approach the aliens from behind, scooping up some of the abandoned marbles as she crept closer. Why wasn’t she running away? They were going to see her! Sasha curled her hands into fists and redoubled her struggles. She needed to keep their attention on her. “Better than being eaten!” she spat.

The sharp toothed alien gave her a confused look. "What are you-?"

There was a muted clatter of glass on stone as Marcy rolled a cluster of marbles into the alien’s path, and their feet shot out from underneath them as they slipped on the sudden obstacle. Their grip loosened on Sasha’s collar as they fell; they both hit the ground hard, but Sasha managed to catch herself on her hands and knees while the alien’s head cracked against the stone, stunning them.

The smaller alien had managed to land more gracefully, and turned towards Marcy, but whatever threats he was about to make were interrupted as Marcy flung a fistful of sand into his mouth and eyes, blinding him. “Sorry!” she called, but she quickly ran over to Sasha, grabbed one of her hands, and pulled her to her feet. Then she broke into a run, dragging Sasha along until she was able to find her footing.

"That was amazing!” Sasha turned to grin at her companion. “You should have seen the-" she abruptly cut herself off when she saw the other girl’s face; she was teary eyed, and her lips were quivering. She looked terrified. But she had saved Sasha, they were getting away!

Before Sasha could ask what was wrong, Marcy pointed out a rapidly approaching alleyway. Sasha didn’t know what the plan was, but she trusted Marcy, so she just nodded. She could hear the two aliens catching up to them from behind. Apparently they were tougher than they looked.

Marcy panted as they turned the corner, and Sasha warily eyed the flock of gross seagull bugs that filled the alleyway. Marcy pulled some of the leftover bread from earlier out of her pocket and started to crumble it in her hands. The birds looked on curiously and Sasha balled up her hands into fists, just like her dad had taught her; thumbs on the outsides of her fingers, tucked out of the way of her knuckles.

This turned out to be unnecessary. Right as the aliens turned the corner, Marcy hurled a shower of breadcrumbs at them, and the not-seagulls all flew forward to attack their pursuers in a flurry of beaks, talons, and feathers, driving them back into the main road. At that moment, an enormous beetle scooped them up and dropped them into a wagon filled with trash that it was pulling behind itself. It quickly disappeared from sight.

Sasha looked on in awe for a moment and then turned to her companion. Marcy was wincing, and called out another "Sorry!" Sasha giggled and grabbed her hand to pull her through the alleyway and away from the villains.

Marcy had bought them some time, but before long the two aliens were chasing them once more. At this point, Sasha was practically dragging Marcy, who was clearly exhausted by all the running.

As they turned into yet another alleyway, Sasha spotted a tired looking alien leaning against the wall with their eyes closed and a cigarette hanging from their mouth. Next to them was an open door that led into a ginormous building. It was getting late, and they would need to find shelter at some point, so she tugged on Marcy’s hand to lead her inside. Just in time, too; she heard the small alien from earlier yell something. Sasha quickly ducked under a loose sheet with Marcy.

A different voice rang out. “Nope! You want to see the show, you buy a ticket!” Sasha heard the door slam shut. There was a rapid-fire metallic banging noise.

“Open this door at once! I’m the Great General Yunan! Scourge of the Sand-”

“I don’t care if you’re the lead’s mother! You buy a ticket like everyone else. Show’s almost over anyways, come back tomorrow.” Sasha heard footsteps pass their hiding place as the speaker continued to grumble to themselves. “Frog, everybody thinks they’re so important. Nobody wants to support the arts.”

As the noise died down, Sasha peeked out from underneath the sheet. From all the ropes, curtains, and costume props strewn around the area, plus the other alien’s words, she guessed they were backstage at some kind of theater. Compared to the bright light pouring in from the stage, it was almost too dark to see. There was a giant staircase that led up into the rafters - that would make the perfect secret hideout! She stood up and dusted off her clothes. “Alright, we’ve got to get someplace safe, come on.” She gestured for Marcy to follow her, but only received a soft whimper in response.

Sasha spun around to check on her; Marcy's eyes were clenched shut, and her hands gripped tightly at her ankle, which looked red and swollen. She must have twisted it while they were running from the aliens. Sasha winced as she thought back to a conversation she’d had with her mom last month.

"Sasha, not everyone is going to be able to keep up with you... if you keep playing so rough, you're going to have trouble making friends..."

Marcy put on a brave face and tried to stand, but she crumpled as soon as she tried to put any weight on her injured foot.

Sasha frowned guiltily as she remembered pushing her to run faster to escape the aliens.

Sasha walked over to Marcy and crouched down in front of her. “Hey, it’s okay. Grab on, I’ve got you.” Marcy hesitated for a moment, but eventually leaned forward onto Sasha’s back and wrapped her arms around her shoulders. Sasha carefully scooped up Marcy’s legs like her dad used to do for her when she was too tired to walk. She slowly stood up; she staggered on her back foot for a moment, but found her balance and managed to stabilize. She grunted and focused on taking one step at a time as she made her way towards the staircase.

"I can try walking, if I'm too heavy..." Marcy whispered.

“Y-You’re fine,” Sasha said. She fought to keep her breathing steady through the exertion. “You saw me earlier, I’m super strong now,” she blustered. She had to suppress a gulp when she reached the bottom of the steps; the climb was going to be miserable. But there was nothing for it; they needed a place to hide, and Sasha wasn’t about to leave Marcy behind. Marcy hadn’t left her behind, and Sasha refused to abandon her. She grit her teeth and started marching up the stairs.

As Sasha's foot hit the third step, she felt a surge of strength. With every step Sasha took, Marcy became easier to carry. Before long, it was like Marcy weighed nothing at all. "See? No sweat." As they climbed into the dark rafters, a soft pink light illuminated the stairs in front of Sasha.

Marcy buried her face into the space between Sasha’s shoulders. They’d settled into a comfortable silence as Sasha continued her trek, and she felt more than heard when Marcy broke it with a quiet whisper. “I’m sorry…”

Sasha frowned at the words. "...What do you mean?"

"You're so cool and brave and I'm so slow and clumsy..." Marcy's grip on Sasha’s shoulders tightened. “I’m sorry you’re stuck here with me…”

Sasha furrowed her brow in confusion.“Well, I’m not. You’re cool as heck!” Sasha was barely able to restrain herself from shouting and alerting the aliens in the audience below.

"H-huh?" Marcy responded.

"Marcy, if it wasn't for you I'd probably still be lost in that giant castle," Sasha reasoned. "If you hadn't distracted that baker, I would have definitely been caught. You managed to beat up those two aliens chasing us without even punching them!" she said in a hushed whisper. "I'm glad I got stuck here with you." Sasha almost stumbled as the stairs darkened further and focused on her footsteps. "And I was kind of hoping... we'd be friends after we got back..." Sasha felt her cheeks warm in embarrassment.

Marcy leaned forward so suddenly that Sasha almost tipped forward onto her face. "You want to be friends?"

Sasha smiled at the earnest excitement in Marcy's voice. "If you want to be, yeah."

"Yeah!" Marcy agreed immediately. "Oh, oh! I can introduce you to Anne, then we can all hang out together!" She hugged Sasha tightly around her shoulders.

Sasha smiled as she adjusted her grip to keep Marcy secure. Her first friend! Friends, maybe! She couldn't wait to tell her mom and dad! They'd be so proud!

Sasha was startled out of her reverie as Marcy yelped and swatted at the air. At first Sasha assumed it was just some kind of bug, but as it fluttered to the ground at her feet she saw it looked like a crumpled up paper airplane. She and Marcy both stared at it in confusion.

Then an unfortunately familiar voice called out from below. “Marcy!” Sasha glanced down at the ground floor; the little pink alien that had been hounding them all day was standing there, trying to wave them down.

Right. Sasha had made her first friend; now she just had to keep her safe.

Marcy held tightly to Sasha’s shoulders as she bolted up the remaining stairs.

“Please, wait! I promise I’m not trying to hurt you!” the little pink alien called up after them.

Sasha continued onto a wooden catwalk that led directly over the stage, but slowed down as the faint lighting that emanated from the stage below abruptly vanished.

The pink alien followed them onto the bridge. “We’re running out of time!”

Sasha whirled around to face him, carefully crouching to let Marcy down onto the ground behind her. “Leave us alone!” she demanded. She planted herself between Marcy and the boy and brought her fists up in front of her.

A bombastic voice echoed up from below. "Age me unto death!" With a mechanical thud, the upper levels around the catwalk became illuminated by crossing beams of warm light.

Marcy clung desperately onto the railing of the catwalk Sasha had lowered her onto. She made the mistake of looking down to see just how far the drop to the floor of the opera house would be. She looked up at the alien who had been hunting them all day with wariness.

"Please, listen... we don't have much time." He held his hands up as he slowly walked towards them.

Tears pricked at the corners of Marcy’s eyes as she gripped onto the metal handrail that stood between her and a dark void.The little pink alien looked almost as scared as she felt. Maybe he was afraid of heights?

The sunbeams that had crisscrossed the catwalk behind them suddenly shut off again, as massive window blinds clattered shut high up on the wall. The alien eyes darted to the window. "Please! We have to get you out into the light."

"Oh yeah? Why’s that?" Sasha challenged.

"You two are under a spell! It can be broken by the light of the setting sun,” he explained. "But we have to go now, or else it will be too late and you'll start forgetting stuff!"

Marcy quirked her head at the boy as he spoke. What was he talking about? First aliens, then imaginary friends, and now magic spells were real?

"Marcy, I know you don't remember right now, but I'm Sprig. When you came to this world you stayed with my family! Our family!" the alien pleaded. Loud applause from below served as a surreal counterpoint to his desperate pleading.

Marcy felt a sting in her heart at the words. After all, she had... parents. "Why would I join an alien family?" Marcy asked from over Sasha's shoulder. The blinds opened again and the catwalks behind them filled with light once more.

"You... You were a lot older, my older sister." Sprig explained. "I don't think your parents were very nice to you."

Sasha snarled at him. "You know her so well? Prove it!" she demanded.

"I know she's really smart, and cool, and kinda clumsy." Sprig spoke slowly and deliberately. "Her favorite ice cream flavor is mint chocolate chip, and she loves games of any kind." He forced a smile. "She... she's really nice, and she looks out for me and our little sister Polly." His hands wrung the bottom of his well-worn vest. "She plays music with me and tinkers with Polly and- and she tells us stories some nights…" Marcy watched his eyes start to mist up. "...and I'm really scared that, because of a mistake I made, you're going to forget everything! So please… please believe me before it’s too late?"

Marcy was conflicted; she felt bad for Sprig. He seemed really worried, so she tried to keep her voice gentle as she replied. "I'm... sorry you’re missing your sister... She sounds great." She hesitated. "Sasha, can you help me into the sunlight behind us?"

"You believe him?" Sasha said incredulously.

"No... not really. But maybe if he sees I'm the wrong person he'll leave us alone," Marcy reasoned. She looked up at Sprig, "If I show you I'm not that Marcy, you'll leave us alone, right?"

Sprig looked hurt, but nodded as he anxiously watched the sunlight continue to fade.

"Alright..." Sasha said begrudgingly, "but if this is a trick I'm going to make you regret it." She turned back to Marcy, scooped her up into her arms, and stepped into the giant sunbeam, and there was a sudden explosion of color.

Marcy fought to orient herself in the cloud of dust surrounding her. She was struck by a sense of vertigo as the world tilted precariously below her, but she was too busy coughing to clear her lungs to worry about it. She waved her hand in front of her face to clear the smoke.

Even as the smoke cleared, she still felt hazy and unfocused. She squeezed her eyes shut, pinched the bridge of her nose, and tried to organize her thoughts. Her memories of the day were… weird. Too big. Sprig interrupted her musings. “Marcy?”

She froze and drudged up the conversation that… young… her… had with Sprig, and finally connected the dots. She opened her eyes to give him a sisterly scowl. “Sprig. Did you go through my alchemy notes?”

Despite her tone, Sprig gave her a relieved smile as the tears that had been threatening to spill finally did. He started to run towards her. “Marcy! Oh, thank frog you’re al-” he was suddenly cut off as a ram-horned bat the size of a dog swooped down from the rafters and slammed into his side, punting him off of the catwalk.

“Sprig!” Marcy screamed as she watched him plummet towards the stage far below. The spotlight shifted to track him, and the opera house was filled with the horrified screams of the audience.

Marcy didn’t even have time to tap out the pattern to call Ram, though she struggled to see how she could plan her way out of this one. For once, though, she didn’t need to.

The catwalk she was standing on shook violently as Yunan sped past, clutching one of the many ropes attached to the theater’s rafters. The spotlight shifted again to highlight the shining steel of her armor as she flew on a collision course with the falling frog.

Twenty feet from the ground, she snagged him out of midair and leapt clear of the rope, flipped several times over and landed with a flourish. She posed under the spotlight like she was born to do it, and held Sprig, dazed but very much alive, up towards the crowd. “Worry not, citizens! The child is unharmed, thanks to I, the Great General Yunan!” There was a brief moment of silence before the crowd erupted into deafening applause.

Marcy let out a relieved breath, and was finally able to relax, but tensed back up when she realized she was still being held. She looked up from where her brother was sheepishly waving at the crowd to find Sasha’s face inches from her own, watching Yunan’s grandstanding with a fond smile.

She shook her head and laughed cynically. “I bet she was waiting for that, Yunan has a sixth sense for this kind of thing.”

“Uh…” Marcy found herself momentarily at a loss for words as she felt her cheeks heat up. “...Sash? You can let me down.”

“Hm? Oh yeah, sure.” She stepped away from the railing and carefully tilted Marcy out of her arms. Marcy, in her haste to create some distance, forgot why Sasha had been holding her in the first place, and her ankle reminded her with a white hot flash of pain as she tried to put her weight on it. She was only saved from further injury as Sasha surged forward to steady her, and helped her lower herself more slowly to lean against the catwalk’s railing. “Ankle not fixed, I guess?”

Marcy looked up at Sasha, chagrined. “Not so much, no. Just… just give me a minute.” Sasha shrugged and stood back up to survey their surroundings. Her brow furrowed and she frowned. “Something up, Sash?”

Sasha’s disappointment was palpable. “How did I ever think this was a good place to hide?”

Chapter 12: Youthspresso - Part 5 : Aftermath

Chapter Text

"Sash, I can walk on my own," Marcy said from behind her, sounding embarrassed. She was draped over Sasha’s back again as they walked through the dark, empty halls of the castle.

"Oh yeah?" Sasha stopped up short. "Rotate your ankle and I'll let you go." Marcy defiantly stretched out her foot and began to rotate it in a circle, but winced halfway through, letting out a pained whimper. "Yeah, not happening. Don't worry, I can get you back just fine," Sasha insisted.

Once they’d finally managed to extract Yunan from the clutches of her adoring audience, the Squirt had fessed up to what he’d done; Hop Pop had spent the entire trek back to the castle lecturing him, and he was still going strong.

"How many times have I personally warned you about the dangers of the dark arts?!"

"I know. I messed up really badly!" Sprig nodded in agreement.

"Your sister has spent a lot of time studying them!" Hop Pop said, exasperated. "You- wait, you’re agreeing with me?" he tripped up, surprised.

“Yeah. You guys were right. It was pretty dangerous out there, and I get now why you and Marcy are so worried for me n’ Polly,” Sprig conceded. “I’m really sorry, to both of you,” Sprig glanced back towards Marcy as he spoke. Sasha glared down at him and the little punk quickly amended, “All of you! I meant all of you, of course.” He grinned awkwardly.

“Sprig… I’m glad you learned from your mistake. I expect you not to make it again,” Hop Pop said sternly. Sprig nodded in understanding. “You’re still grounded, for the record.”

Sasha smirked as Sprig’s apologetic expression crumpled. “Aw, man! I’ll have to spend more time in the room?”

“You think that’s a punishment!?” Hop Pop laughed good naturedly. “Being waited on hand and foot in the royal palace? No! You’ll be joining me! Helping me fill out forms in triplicate. It’ll be a learning experience!”

“Noooooooooo!” Sprig’s wail echoed through the hallway.

Sasha snickered. Served the kid right. As Hop Pop taunted his grandson with the boring work that awaited them, Sasha gave Yunan a pointed look and nodded towards the Plantars.

Yunan's eyes flicked back to Marcy for a moment, then she nodded back and lengthened her stride to catch up to Sprig and Hop Pop. "Hopediah! We have not been properly introduced yet. I am the Great General Yunan."

Hop Pop looked distinctly uncomfortable, but pushed past it. “I’m ah… pleased to meetcha, General. I wanted to thank you for helping Sprig find Marcy today, and for keeping him safe back at the theater.”

"No need. It was the least I could do after the grave mistake I made in our first encounter. I had hoped to take a moment of your time to apologize for it, if I may."

Hop Pop looked surprised. "I wouldn't mind, no..."

"Excellent. First, I would like to assure you that once I am given leave to do so, I will be hunting down the traitor Grime, who sullied your good name. Second!"

As Yunan continued to speak, Sasha slowed her pace to drift further behind the rest of the group, giving her and Marcy some privacy. Okay, let’s start with something light. "Hey, is today messing with your memory at all?" Sasha asked.

"Oh man, totally!" Marcy agreed. She leaned back slightly. "I can remember everything from today super clearly but it still feels like it happened years ago. Plus, now I have two distinct memories of meeting you for the first time. Though… in both versions, you're still the hero that swoops in to save the day."

"I was the hero? I wasn't the one who took down Yunan with half a bread roll and some marbles.” Sasha snickered. She was never going to let Yunan live that down.

"Well, I obviously wasn't about to let you be eaten by aliens, now was I?" Marcy giggled back.

"No, I suppose not," Sasha said fondly.

"We should probably send that baker some money tomorrow." Marcy rested her forehead on Sasha's shoulder, and her voice grew sleepy. "We stole a lot of bread."

"I'll get someone on it," Sasha promised. Alright, good start, time to move on to the heart of things. Originally she had planned to bring this up after a day out in town, which, okay, mission technically accomplished. Still, this was going to be a struggle. At least neither of them could bail on it this time. "Hey, Marcy?"

Marcy hummed in acknowledgement.

"About the whole... tryouts thing," Sasha started off awkwardly.

Sasha felt her friend stir to wakefulness. "Have you been worrying about that since yesterday? Sasha, it's fine. You were right..." Marcy's voice was quiet. "It probably would have been a disaster."

"Oh, absolutely," Sasha agreed. While she felt bad about how she handled it, she had no regrets for steering them from that trainwreck. "But you were only pushing yourself to do it so we could spend time together, right?" Sasha thought back to how excited and happy Marcy had been to talk about that game earlier, compared to how reserved Sasha had convinced her to be over the last few years. "’Cause I was sh*tty about your interests?"

"It's okay..." Marcy said hesitantly. Sasha could tell that she was choosing her words very carefully. "I know you didn't mean to-"

"Marcy," Sasha interrupted. "Don’t bullsh*t me. I did mean to. I was trying to get you to stop talking," she admitted. She felt Marcy flinch, but she didn't respond. "... Come on, Marce, cards on the table... we can't go back to how things used to be, right?"

Marcy went very still. They continued in silence for several minutes before Marcy finally spoke up. "Sasha… Why?"

"Partly it was worry. I didn’t want you to get bullied." Sasha took a breath before she continued. "A part of it was that I was embarrassed, though. I thought that if I could get you to keep your nerdy interests to yourself, then it would be easier for both of us... but that's not who you are," she admitted. "You're Marcy, you're earnest and passionate about anything that catches your interest, and you shouldn't have to hide that from anyone, especially your friends." Sasha sighed. "Sorry I took so long to figure that out." Sasha waited nervously for Marcy’s response, and eventually heard a sniffle. "... is that relieved crying or sad crying? Can't really see your face from here."

"Happy," Marcy croaked out with a laugh, briefly letting go of Sasha to wipe at her face. "You really mean it?"

"Yeah. No promises that I'll get into it like you do, a lot of the fantasy stuff I just don't relate... to..." She paused and looked at the high vaulted hallways around them. "...Though some of it might warrant a second chance... Anyway, there is one I'm pretty confident we have in common."

"Oh?" Marcy asked.

"But you can't tell anyone, alright?"

"Sure," Marcy readily agreed.

"I'm serious Marcy, this could ruin me if it got out."

"I really don't know who you think I'm going to tell," Marcy said with a little laugh.

"Promise me, Marcy."

"Sure, I-" Marcy said, her voice getting concerned. Sasha felt Marcy shift on her perch, looking around them before whispering, "Sash… you know crime isn’t like, a new hobby of mine, right?”

"Wha- No. I wasn't-" Sasha paused, thinking over her last few words. "Okay, I can see how you got there, but no. Do you remember Spirit Detective ?"

Marcy relaxed at the question. "Yeah, of course."

Spirit Detective had been Marcy and Sasha's favorite show growing up. Anne would watch it with them, but she’d never liked it as much as they had. Many a sleepover had been spent watching a recorded episode or two.

Sasha took a deep breath. "Before we came here... I was in the middle of my fourth rewatch of the series."

Marcy took a second to absorb that. " Fourth!? "

"Yeah," Sasha admitted reluctantly. She couldn’t put the genie back in the bottle now.

"Sash, there's like a hundred and fifty episodes of Spirit Detective ."

"Hey! First of all, it's only a hundred and thirty-three. Second of all, would you keep it down?" Sasha said as their amphibian friends looked back at them.

"No one else here cares, Sasha!" Marcy exclaimed, laughing incredulously. "Hey, Yunan! Have you ever heard of anime?" The newt glanced at Sprig, who shrugged helplessly. "See?! I thought you hated anime. You said it was for dorks."

"It is, and… ugh... I guess I'm a bit of a dork," Sasha lamented. "I tried to watch normal TV, but it was so boring! Spirit Detective had everything. Drama, suspense, kickass fight scenes!" Sasha paused, embarrassed. "...I broke down and started to binge it when I was alone."

"Why were you hiding this!?"

"I think we just covered why, Marcy. Popularity, ridicule-"

"No, why did you hide this from me? " said Marcy, still laughing. "I can keep a secret, Sash!"

“Really? ‘Cause you lasted about ten seconds before you tried to tell Yunan,” Sasha snarked. "Anyways, yeah. We share a favorite anime. Boom, common interest." Sasha said with finality. It was somewhere to start, anyway. She waited a moment, but Marcy was unusually silent. "What?"

"I mean, don't get me wrong, Spirit Detective is a classic, but I've watched a lot of anime at this point."

Sasha glanced back at her. "You're going to tell me that there's an anime better than Spirit Detective ?" she challenged.

"Listen, it was great. I still like it a lot. But I've seen better." Marcy smirked, clearly testing the waters. "Ones that didn't take five years to get an ending."

Sasha felt her jaw drop. "Ending? What ending?"

"You haven't seen the movie?" Marcy asked, scandalized.

" What movie? "

"Oh hoho man. Okay, so you know how the series ends on a cliffhanger?"

"Fourth rewatch, Marcy," Sasha replied impatiently. "What. Movie?"

"Last year, they released a movie around the holidays. Different animation studio, but with the same director and writer as the original show," Marcy explained excitedly. "It was great, and tied up all the loose ends!"

"How is this the one thing you didn't tell me about?!"

"I mentioned it to Anne, I thought you wouldn't care!" She clutched tightly to Sasha’s shoulders as she giggled uncontrollably. Sasha hadn’t realized how much she missed the sound until that moment. Yunan gave them a knowing look as they got back to the residential wing of the castle. “I wonder if I still have it saved on my phone… I’ll check when we get back to the room.”

“You figured out a way to charge your phone?!” Sasha asked. Then she thought about it for a moment. “...What am I saying, of course you did.”

“Yeah, that’s what Zappy is for!” Marcy said as they approached the suite. “I can recharge yours overnight.”

The night maid, a sleepy eyed newt, had already greeted Yunan, Hop Pop, and the Squirt on their return and turned to greet Sasha and Marcy.

"Hello. Is the lady injured?" the maid asked, nodding towards Marcy.

"I'm okay, just rolled my ankle. Could I just get a bag of ice for the swelling?" Marcy replied.

"At once, Lady Regina." The maid curtsied and bustled past them.

Despite her best efforts, Sasha wasn’t able to suppress a snicker.

There was a beat as they approached the door to Marcy's room before her arms suddenly adjusted to be closer to a chokehold. "You’re the reason everyone's been calling me by my middle name?" Marcy accused in mock outrage.

Sasha didn’t even try to hide the mirth in her voice. "I have no idea what you're talking about." Everyone though? Man, Olivia spread the news around fast.

"Sashaaa!" Marcy groaned. "You know I hate my middle name."

“Hey, don’t blame me. You’re the one that wanted to be stuck with me forever.” Sasha shrugged. “Now you gotta deal with it.”

Marcy tensed, but then chuckled ruefully as she relaxed against Sasha’s back. “Yeah, okay, that’s fair.”

They caught up to their companions, who had stalled at the door to their room. Sasha looked into the room and immediately understood why. Polly had utterly wrecked the place. Disassembled electronics and wiring were scattered through the room, interspersed with a dusting of candy wrappers. Polly sat in front of a bizarre, oblong, metal frog head.

Polly had a screwdriver in one flipper and a wrench in the other. She turned around to reveal tear-filled eyes. "He-" she sniffed. "He won’t turn on..."

"Oh, Polly..." Marcy tutted sympathetically.

Anne bobbed her head in time to the music from her earbuds as she tried to narrow her focus. The campfire cast shadows on the cave walls around her. She and Valeriana had been traveling through a rocky mountainside all day and had just finished dinner.

She traced her fingers counter clockwise in front of her and crafted an illusion. Bands of light appeared and bent in the air, shimmering like stardust as they shifted to resemble wood grain. They morphed into the shape of a ship’s deck; masts sprouted from it like little trees, and the bottom slowly extended outwards to create a hull. She dotted the deck with a bunch of little amphibians running around. They weren't very distinct, but at the scale she was working with, it didn’t really matter. She took a deep breath and then moved on to the hard part. A roiling expanse of water covered the floor, churning with waves. Anne stared at it for a moment, then frowned. The ship looked good, and the water looked good, but the place where the two met looked like a glitch in one of Marcy's games; the ship’s movement was out of sync with the waves.

Was it because she was treating them as two separate illusions? She thought that would make things easier, but maybe it would be better to treat the whole thing as a single illusion.

She dismissed the spell with a flick of her wrist, then closed her eyes to imagine everything together. A ship charging straight through a tumultuous storm, water splashing off the bow as it passed through, all the little workers on the deck– all of it at once. She opened her eyes and cast it again, and sure enough, it all combined seamlessly. It was a lot harder to maintain than two simpler, independent illusions, but it looked way better.

Anne's concentration was broken by the familiar feeling of a paper airplane lodging itself in her hair. Back on Earth, this would have just irritated her, since it probably meant that Maggie or some other jerk was using her for target practice. In the last month, though, it had taken on a new meaning. She was surprised; it had only been a day or so since she had read about the Plantar family's pirate adventure.

Anne quickly reached up and fished it out of her hair to hold it up to the failing light that filtered in from the mouth of the cave. The little paper golem fluttered for a moment or two more before it fell still.

Anne frowned. Even without opening it, she could tell the message was shorter than usual. One side was even blank.

Anne’s musings were interrupted as one of her earbuds was plucked out of her ear from afar. A voice sounded from deeper in the cave. "Alvays listening to music..." Anne looked over her shoulder to see Val shaking her head. "Come along, acolyte, I've secured us passage. Save your love letter for later." Val smirked as she began to pack up the camp.

Anne rolled her eyes. "Alright, alright. Give me a second." Anne carefully flattened the paper airplane out and then folded it into a neat little rectangle to keep it safe.

She unzipped her backpack and sifted through for a moment to find the music box. She cracked open the lid and then added the new letter to the half a dozen others Marcy had sent her.

They quickly cleaned up their campsite, put out the fire, and headed deeper into the cave.

Anne smiled to herself and moved with a little skip in her step, already looking forward to reading the letter once they next made camp.

Chapter 13: College Daze

Chapter Text

[ Marcy's Journal ]

Day 141 in Amphibia,

Well, it's official, journal. I am out of ideas on what angle to try to find information about the music box. I have combed through the entirety of the royal library and haven’t had any luck finding anything actionable.

I've searched through the shelves, but nothing appears from before the last millennium. There seems to be a sharp cut off shortly after Andrias took the throne. It's been... frustrating.

Also, still no luck on creating an improved golem potion. The key ingredient that gave it its range is apparently exclusive to the valley. I've been able to cobble together a short ranged version, but it can't lock in on Anne. Unless- No. No, just tested it trying to send a message to some of the folks back in the valley, so unless everyone back there is gone, it's just a range issue.

In less dire news, Hop Pop got to have a sit down with King Andrias the other night! Apparently he wanted a more thorough accounting of what exactly happened in the valley. Hop Pop says the king was surprisingly down to earth, which I wouldn’t have expected given the castle we’re all staying in.

[The following section has been decoded for the convenience of the reader.]

An even bigger surprise, though, is that it turns out Sasha still likes anime! She even shared with me this AU she thought of where Yukari doesn't come back to life at the start of Spirit Detective. She didn't call it an AU, and I didn't tell her it was one since I didn't want her to stop sharing it with me, but it's definitely an AU.

Marcy held a vial up to the light as the clumps of weeds and assorted plant matter within boiled and shifted from a murky brown to the rich green hue that signified a successful transmutation into a magical potion. She quickly corked it before it could transmute into air and set it in a little bucket of ice she had brought to their room in the castle. She looked at the little potion with a nod of approval. "Alright, Polly, I think we're all ready for our test flight today."

Polly looked up from her workstation, where she was using a needle and thread to put the finishing touches on the balloon. "Great! I got that vent thing you suggested installed in the balloon," Polly said with a grin. Marcy was glad this had worked to distract her from Frobo; she'd been pretty broken up after her latest attempt to fix him.

Marcy felt a warm pressure against her back as Sasha leaned into her like she was a reclining chair. "Balloon?"

"Yeah, we're making a hot air balloon." Marcy tried to pat her little sister on the head, but the pollywog rolled out of arm's reach. She never did like displays of affection when they were around people from outside the family.

"My design, by the way," Polly clarified proudly.

"Huh, pretty cool," Sasha replied distractedly. Marcy could hear the sound of Sasha flicking the control stick, which was accompanied by a number of damage chirps from Marcy's Shift.

"Taking on the Lynel again, huh?" Marcy asked skeptically.

"Yes, shut up," Sasha said hotly. "Got this thing down to half health already." Marcy twisted herself around so she could watch over Sasha's shoulder. Polly hopped up onto Marcy's shoulder to look down on the fight as well.

Zelda was strafing and dodging giant axe swings that would absolutely kill her in one strike at this point of the game. The hero's ramshackle shield parried a mighty blow, which allowed her to land a devastating attack on the creature's flank. Sasha smirked. "Ha! See, gonna be a piece of- '' Sasha was interrupted as the creature reared up to kick her with its hind legs, sending Zelda ragdolling across the richly illustrated fields of Lowrule as all sound cut out. Then the game over music started playing. "Stupid buff lion-horse," Sasha growled in annoyance.

"I'm surprised you're so invested in this..." Marcy said as Sasha loaded up her last save.

"Well," Sasha glanced accusingly at Marcy, "Someone imprinted me with a desire to play this game, so now it feels like I've been wanting to for half my life."

"Well, I mean, if you're not having fun-" Marcy reached over Sasha's shoulder to pluck her Shift back.

Sasha batted her hand away. "Who said I wasn't having fun?" she said, scowling.

"Is this 'anime'?" Yunan’s voice chimed from behind them. Polly and Marcy both yelped and whirled around to see her standing behind them. "Greetings!"

"When did you get here?" Marcy asked, clutching a hand to her chest to try to steady her suddenly erratic heartbeat.

"A minute or so ago." Yunan shrugged and returned her attention to the Shift.

"You know, for someone who's normally so loud, you sure are sneaky when you try to be," Polly complimented as she slipped from Marcy’s shoulder into the hood of her sweatshirt.

"Thank you!" Yunan replied with a toothy grin.

Marcy looked back at Sasha, who was in the process of saving her game. "Did you hear her coming?"

"No." Sasha shook her head as she clicked the Shift’s power button and handed it back to Marcy. "You get used to it." Sasha sat up and turned to look at Yunan. "What's up?"

“The forge finished your replacement armor, and just in time, too.”

"We got work?" Sasha climbed to her feet.

Yunan nodded. "Indeed. Barbariants have been discovered outside the city walls. Apparently, they’ve been there for weeks. We're going to be the last two out of the gate before they seal up the city," she explained. "Go gear up, these things are gonna be a pain to exterminate."

"Gotcha." Sasha stretched. "Whelp, guess I gotta do the hero thing for real again." She offered Marcy a hand .

Marcy grabbed the crutch next to her before she took Sasha's hand, who hauled her up to a standing position. Her ankle wasn't too bad anymore, but it was still pretty sensitive. "Good luck on your adventure, Sash."

"Won't need it," she scoffed, but then seemed to catch herself, and added, "but thanks. What will you be up to?"

Marcy pondered for a moment. "Not sure. I might go to the library and-"

Sasha put a hand on Marcy's shoulder. "Marce? Relax. You told me yourself that the library was lame and had nothing we needed."

"Well, I didn't say that ." A lot of the books had actually been really interesting. "But maybe I overlooked something."

"Marcy, the last time I helped out you had me pulling cookbooks .” Sasha said, exasperated. "It's fine. Trust me, I want to get back home too, but this approach clearly isn't working." She sighed. "So take a weekend. Play some games, read something for fun or whatever. We'll look into a different plan when I get back."

Polly tapped insistently on Marcy's shoulder. "Yeah! We should test out the Sky Plantar Mk. 2!" She pointed at the hot air balloon they'd cobbled together.

"Sure, take the little angry one out. She hasn't gotten to see the city at all." Sasha gave Marcy's shoulder a gentle squeeze, then let go and headed to the balcony that connected their rooms. "My equipment's in my room, I assume?" She glanced at Yunan, who nodded. "See you in a couple days, Mar-Mar."

"See ya, Sash," Marcy said with a smile.

"See you, big angry one!" Polly jeered. Sasha snorted as Marcy watched her disappear through the doorway.

Marcy’s attention was abruptly diverted as Yunan loudly cleared her throat. “Marcy? Lady Olivia wanted to have a word with you. One of the door guards will escort you at your convenience."

Marcy used her crutch to maintain her balance as she hobbled along next to Lady Olivia. Her injury slowed her down, but Olivia had much shorter legs, so it wasn’t too difficult to keep up with her steady pace. Marcy estimated they were fairly high up in the castle at this point.

"Now, Lady Regina, Lady Plantar, this is a big deal," Lady Olivia informed them.

"Marcy's fine, really. And I can't imagine what he would have to talk about with me."

"Hm. Quite," Lady Olivia agreed sternly. They arrived at a large door, and Lady Olivia nodded to the two guards on either side of the door. They snapped off smart salutes and pulled the doors open before them. Olivia stepped through before gesturing towards Marcy and Polly as they entered. "King Andrias, allow me to present Misses Marcy and Polly Plantar."

Marcy’s first impression of the study was that it was small and cozy, but after a moment she realized her sense of scale had been warped by the king standing in the center of the room. The walls and flooring consisted of simple stone bricks. One side of the room was dominated by a large fireplace, which was currently empty. Opposite that was a huge balcony that let light pour in from between marble columns.

However, those details quickly faded to the edges of Marcy's awareness as she looked about, because the king was standing in the center of a giant checkered game board. It was an eight by eight grid that was large enough for Andrias to stand in the center comfortably without knocking over the intricately carved white and brown wooden pieces, most of which came up to Marcy’s shoulder.

Andrias was looking out towards the balcony, but turned and favored them with a warm smile as they entered. "Greetings Marcy, Polly. A pleasure to see you both. Thank you Olivia, you may go." Lady Olivia bowed and retreated through the doors, which slid shut behind her.

"Greetings, your majesty." Marcy awkwardly attempted to bow despite her crutch, but Andrias waved a hand in dismissal.

"Please, call me Andrias." Marcy started to object but Andrias held up a hand. "Really, I insist. Trust me, after a thousand years all that pomp and circ*mstance gets old."

Before Marcy could formulate a response Polly chortled. "Finally, someone around here without a stick up their butt!"

"Polly," Marcy quietly tried to scold her sister.

Andrias, however, just let out a deep belly laugh that boomed like a bass on an amp. "Ah ha ha ha! Ah, well said, young one, well said!" Andrias said, wiping a tear from his eye.

Marcy relaxed a bit. The king seemed much more approachable than she had imagined all those nights on the road to Newtopia. "Thank you your- Andrias. I was surprised to hear that you wanted to meet with me."

"Well, why wouldn't I want to meet such an accomplished young woman?" Andrias asked with a chuckle. "Hopediah told me about you."

"Hop Pop talked about me?" Marcy asked, already embarrassed.

"All three of you kids. What you've managed to accomplish in just the time you were in the valley is astounding," Andrias said, impressed. "It's only natural I would want to meet the one responsible for doing so much good for my kingdom. But where are my manners? Please, come in! Make yourselves comfortable."

He gestured towards the white side of the board where a raised but otherwise normal sized chair awaited Marcy. She limped over, hopped into the chair, and took a better look at the board.

Marcy knew on some level that it probably wasn't chess, but man it looked like chess. A row of spear-wielding frogs stood in front of a line of varied pieces. Newt archers sat on the ends, with brutish looking toads next in line. There was just one bishop, while the other was replaced with a newt riding a heron. The central pair had a sword-wielding frog in place of the queen and a crowned toad in the place of the king.

"Flipwart. A favorite of mine. A game of strategy and cunning," Andrias mused casually. "Do you play?"

"Yeah, we had a similar game back on Earth!" Marcy said confidently. After all, how many differences could there be?

"Wonderful. don't worry about moving your pieces, I know you're hurt." He gestured to the crutch Marcy had brought with her. "I'll move them for you."

As it turned out, a lot. There could be a lot of differences. First and foremost the capture mechanic was entirely different, pieces didn't move into the square they captured! Each piece had a different rule governing how it captured pieces and how it moved. Pawns were similar, they could only capture pieces diagonally in front of them. Archers moved like chess kings, one square at a time, but could capture from 3 squares away but only directly in front of them. Brutes moved like chess knights, in an L shape, but they could only capture in the direction the L took at the end of their movement! Bishops could move two squares in any direction, but could only capture pieces orthogonally. Their opposite, heron riders, could also move two squares, but could only capture diagonally. Champions moved like chess queens and could capture any adjacent piece at the end of their movement. Warts couldn't capture at all and moved like chess kings, one space at a time.

It was like chess to the max .

Unfortunately, by the time she pieced all that together, it was far too late to salvage the game. Her opening moves, which would have been a prudent start in a chess match, were clumsy and amateurish with the adjusted rule set.

"And that..." Andrias picked up his archer and moved it within range of Marcy's otherwise pinned wart, "...is flipwart," he said, sounding faintly disappointed. Which was fair, Marcy would also have been disappointed with such a one-sided game.

"Wait, Marcy, you lost?" Polly looked up from Marcy's Shift, which she had been absorbed in for the entirety of the game.

Marcy nodded and sighed. "Yeah... on the plus side, I think I actually understand the rules now..."

Andrias quirked a brow at that. "I thought you said you had played before."

"I thought I had. Chess looks very similar," Marcy said, embarrassed. "Sorry for such a lackluster game..." she grumbled as she surveyed the final board.

"Well, no harm done, would you like to play again?" he offered good naturedly. "There are worse ways to spend my time than-"

"Sire?" The voice came from a little newt who had come through a smaller side door behind Andrias.

Andrias adopted a put upon expression as he turned to face the newt. "Yes?"

"Lady Olivia wanted me to remind you that you are expected at the noble luncheon, which is starting soon."

Andrias sighed and shook his head. "Tell her I'll be there soon." The little newt nodded and scurried out of the room and back to wherever he had come from. Andrias turned to Polly and Marcy with an apologetic expression. "I'm afraid I have to go. I would skip it, but there are a pair of dukes whose backwoods spat is about to escalate."

"That's okay. I promised Polly we would go out today," Marcy said, trying to stretch out her good leg to let herself down gently. However, before she could risk it, Andrias leaned over and provided his finger as a stepping stool. "Oh, thanks!" Marcy stepped down and grabbed her crutch.

"No trouble. Where were you planning to go today?" Andrias’ tone was casual as they all headed towards the main door.

"We're going to test out a new invention," Polly provided excitedly. "A flying machine!"

"You don't say!" Andrias said with an indulgent smile. "Where were you planning on testing it out?"

"Well, we'll need some open space... so I was hoping to find some kind of park... gonna be a bit hard getting it all there with this, though..." Marcy briefly waved her crutch, annoyed.

"Well, I can help with that, at least." Andrias hauled the door open for himself. The door guards turned and saluted. "Hello. I would like you two to accompany these young ladies today, and assist them with whatever they need," Andrias instructed. He returned his attention to Marcy. "I hope you will indulge me in another game sometime soon." He strode past the guards, but stopped to call over his shoulder. "Oh, and I would recommend Newtopia University for your little experiment– lots of open space, not too many trees."

"Thank you, Andrias!" Marcy called as she waved to his retreating form.

"Thanks for the tip!" Polly agreed. "Hope you don't die of boredom!"

"Me too!" he bellowed back with a laugh before he rounded the corner, disappearing from their sight.

"Cool dude." Polly said simply.

"Yeah..." Marcy smiled. Every day she became more confident in her decision to come to Newtopia.

The guard to her right stood at attention and adopted a formal tone. "Shall we head out now, Lady Regina, or do you have something to gather first?"

Polly snickered as Marcy let out a long, slow sigh.

Hop Pop looked at his grandson, who was splayed out on the floor of the office. Sprig had spent the last three days filling out form after form with Hop Pop, and had evidently reached his limit.

"Hop Pop. Hop Pop, I'm not going to make it. You must tell my story..." He languished on his back, hands pressed against his eyes.

Hop Pop rolled his eyes. "Sprig, stop acting so dramatic and get up, Mr. Prawnleg might be back any moment."

Sprig didn’t budge. "Can't. Will to live... gone. Boredom… too intense."

Hop Pop leaned over and plucked his grandson up off the floor and set him back in his chair. "Well, next time I hope you think twice before doing something so reckless and selfish," Hop Pop lectured.

"I wasn't doing it to be selfish!" Sprig flung his hands up. "I told you! I was trying to get you and Marcy to relax for a day!" He crossed his arms over his chest and slumped into a sulk.

Hop Pop stared at him a moment, thinking back over the last three days. "...Sprig, you never said anything of the sort."

"...I didn't?"

"No, you just said that you were the one who spiked our coffee with that youth potion."

"Well, I told somebody!" Sprig rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Maybe it was Polly..."

"Sprig, I wouldn't call us spending a few days on research and paperwork ‘overworked.’"

"It wasn’t just those few days, though! You and Marcy were stressed the entire trip here. Even then, you got a couple weeks to relax when you were too small to do much. I think the only time Marcy got to rest was when she burned herself out with her plant magic." Sprig wiggled his fingers in front of him in a vague imitation of his sister casting a spell.

Hop Pop paused and thought back to the journey. He had leaned on Marcy pretty hard while they were on the run. He hadn't even needed to ask; she’d volunteered at every opportunity. "Well, Sprig, you still should have talked to us instead of trying to trick us like you did..." he waited for Sprig to nod in agreement before he continued, "...but I wish you had mentioned this a few days ago, I probably would have just had you help me with paperwork for one day instead of three. I assumed that it was just about you wanting to explore the city.”

"Wait, really?! Ah man..." Sprig groaned and collapsed bonelessly against the back of his chair.

The door opened behind them, and the newt they were there to meet stepped out. Mr. Prawnleg had a small pair of spectacles balanced carefully on his snout, and he wore the same rich purple-and-white robes as the rest of the paper pushers Hop Pop had been talking to throughout the last week. A long scar that stretched from his chin to his hairline belied his otherwise mild-mannered appearance. His voice was cheerful as he greeted them. "Well, Mayor, I have to say I am impressed. You have filled out every form correctly, and got them approved by the right people! I am happy to report that all of your requests for aid are ready to be sent up and processed."

Hop Pop heaved out a sigh of relief. "Oh thank frog," he laughed. "You know I was starting to think that no one was supposed to get approved at all."

Prawnleg tittered back. "I am glad you found out otherwise. Now, it will take some time to acquire everything we need for the caravan, so we will need you to remain within the city to guide it back to..." he paused and adjusted his glasses to look down at the papers on the table, "...Frog Valley."

"We'll be here for a little while," Hop Pop said with a nod. "How long are we talking?"

"Well, if I get this in before five o'clock today... I would say anywhere between two to four years!" Prawnleg said cheerfully.

"Two years!?" Sprig and Hop Pop both said in unison.

"Two to four years." Prawnleg corrected their exclamation with a bland smile.

"We can't wait around here that long!" Sprig said, clearly annoyed.

"Then I suppose that your supplies will be going to someone else," Prawnleg said, unbothered.

"There has to be someone we can talk to!" Hop Pop insisted.

Prawnleg splayed his hands out helplessly. "I am sorry, Mayor..." Prawnleg glanced at the paperwork again, "Plantar, but I'm afraid you have done..." he hesitated, "all you... can..." His eyes darted back down to the papers again, and he scrutinized Hop Pop and Sprig more closely. "You... aren't the same Plantars who arrived with Lady Regina, are you?" he asked. For the first time since he’d entered the room, his voice betrayed genuine interest. "The witch?"

"I'll have you know she's a Plantar, too," Hop Pop asserted, slightly wary of the sudden shift in the bureaucrat's tone. It sounded more like something he would hear in the Bizarre Bazaar. "Which other Plantars would we be?"

"Listen, you're not the only podunk farmers who've come looking for a handout." Prawnleg leaned forward to loom over them, resting his hands on the table. The flickering candle on the desk highlighted the jagged scar on his face. Sprig sat up, sensing something interesting in the works. Prawnleg ignored Hop Pop’s indignant expression. "I need a bit of magic help. You get the witch to do me a favor, and I can get you a chance to get everything you need for your little village in a timely manner."

Hop Pop frowned at the offer, but leaned forward without missing a beat. "Well that depends. What kind of favor, and what kind of chance?"

"Hey, I can't give details until I know you're committed."

"Well, I can't agree to anything unless I know what it is. I'm not getting my granddaughter involved in anything dangerous," Hop Pop said seriously.

"Listen, do you want these funds or not?" The newt narrowed his eyes at them as he flipped through their paperwork.

Hop Pop looked at the pages and sighed. A week of his life down the drain. "Not that bad. Come on, Sprig." He hopped out of his chair and started towards the door.

As Hop Pop grabbed the door’s handle the newt called out. "Wait!" Hop Pop looked over his shoulder, hand still on the door. "It's some kind of cursed cup, alright? My brother drank out of it, and it's been messing with him.He can’t spend any money without breaking out into a cold sweat. Says he feels like he’s dying. I need someone who knows about this junk to figure out why and fix it," Prawnleg said, stepping out from behind his desk.

Hop Pop considered the words carefully. Sprig leaned up and whispered to him. "That does sound like the kind of thing Marcy would be interested in."

Hop Pop turned back to face Prawnleg again. "We'll ask her. Can't promise she'll be able to fix it." Making promises you can't keep to these kinds of folks was a dangerous game. "What's this 'chance' you were talking about?"

Prawnleg seemed to decide this was good enough and began to explain. "Twice a year, my boss throws a card tournament. The prize is a favor from him. Heck, if you two win then he'll be able to get those supplies to you in a matter of weeks. My brother and I received invitations, but if your little witch can help us out, I can pass those along to the two of you."

Hop Pop nodded slowly. He had gotten pretty comfortable with card games in his youth. "What game are we talking about? Toad'em Hold'em? Redjane? Gem Rummy?"

"This ain't exactly a friendly game in your uncle's basem*nt. You two ever play Singles?"

"Nope."

"Never heard of it."

"Then you'll need to learn." Prawnleg reached into a pocket and pulled out a box with four symbols on it: A wavy dagger, a spiked maul, an axe, and a pair of crossed arrows. He held it out to Hop Pop but pulled it out of reach at the last moment. "We got a deal?"

Hop Pop frowned, thinking it over. "I'll ask her, but like I said, I can't promise anything."

Prawnleg took a moment before he nodded reluctantly. He pushed open the door for them and Hop Pop and Sprig moved out into the hallway. "If she agrees, come back here tomorrow at nine o'clock. I'll bring the cup." He handed over the deck of cards. "Rules are inside, and I would practice if I were you two. The people you're going to be playing against aren't pushovers."

"Got it," Hop Pop answered.

Prawnleg started to close the door but stopped at the last moment to squint at them through the crack. "And if you tell anyone about all this, I'll deny everything," he said before slamming the door shut.

Sprig and Hop Pop stood in silence for a moment or two before Sprig spoke up. "Wow, this is incredibly sketchy." He plucked the deck of cards from Hop Pop’s hands and started to sift through them. "So we're gonna do it, right?" Sprig asked, clearly excited.

"First, we need to see if Marcy will look at this cup."

"Sure," Sprig said with a shrug.

"Second, as mayor, I'm definitely doing it, but Marcy gets the second slot if she's interested. She’s the one doing the work for the invites, after all."

Sprig huffed, but acquiesced. "Yeah, I guess that's fair," he admitted. He brightened back up. "I can help you practice though, right?" Sprig tried to riffle the deck from one hand to another, but after the first few cards, the rest of the deck sprayed out of his hand like a fountain, sending cards all over the hallway. "Oops."

Hop Pop sighed, shaking his head.

"It works! It works! It works!" Polly celebrated noisily in the air. Up above Marcy, the Sky Plantar Mk. II was floating under its own power with Polly sitting in its basket. Marcy held tightly onto a rope that was tied to Polly's basket to keep it from floating away with her little sister. The guards had been a big help in transporting Marcy, Polly, and their invention out to the university field and had taken up posts at the university’s gate.

Polly's big innovation was to use a candle to boil the air potion more gently. It definitely took longer than using a boil bead, but the slower ascent meant that it crashed a lot less than the first design. Marcy looked up, proud of her sister, glad she had recovered from her unsuccessful attempt to rebuild Frobo.

"Marcy! Take a picture of my triumph!" Polly called down. "Nothing will stand against Polly Plantar, master of the skies! HAHAHAHA!"

That's probably fine.

Marcy let go of the rope with one hand to fish her phone out of her pocket, hit the shortcut to activate the camera, and then started to film as Polly laughed maniacally.

"What a fascinating contraption..." a voice came from behind Marcy. She turned to see an elderly newt standing behind her. He had faded pink skin, sparse graying hair and a long, scraggly beard. He wore a black robe with a sash hung loosely over it. Behind him, dressed in similar robes, were a cadre of unimpressed looking students all carrying clipboards. He watched the balloon for a moment, then shifted his gaze down to Marcy, and his bushy eyebrows jumped up in surprise. "With an equally curious inventor."

"Oh..." Marcy glanced around, unsure of what to make of this. "...Hi?"

"Ah, right, apologies. I am Professor Herringbone, Headmaster here at Newtopia University. He extended a hand in greeting.

Marcy nodded in understanding, angling her camera up towards Polly again as she shook the newt’s hand. "Marcy Plantar, it's very nice to meet you."

He nodded, but then looked behind Marcy, concerned. "Are you supposed to be holding onto that?" he asked skeptically, letting go of her hand.

Marcy paused for a moment before realizing in a panic that in her efforts to continue filming Polly and exchange pleasantries she had let go of the rope. She turned to see the rope gently rising into the air after her sister. Marcy dropped her phone on the grass and leapt for the rope, grabbing hold of the bottom of it just before it rose out of reach entirely. Her ankle twinged as she landed and she fell hard onto the grass. The impact knocked the wind out of her, but she kept a tight grip on the rope.

"Hey! What's with the yanking around!" Polly called down with a scowl.

"Sorry..." Marcy tried, but it came out as a wheeze as she struggled to catch her breath. "Sorry Polly!" Marcy yelled up, getting back to her feet. "Got a little distracted! People were interested in the balloon!" She dusted off her skirt.

"Of course they are! I'll be right down!" Polly called down, though Marcy wasn't sure what she meant by that. Polly could put out the candle, but it would take a while for the balloon to settle to the ground. Then Marcy felt an abrupt tug on the rope.

Marcy looked back up to find Polly using her folded-over bow to zip-line down the rope to Marcy. Marcy braced herself to cushion the incoming pollywog. She caught Polly at an angle and spun in place to cancel out the momentum. She set Polly up on her shoulder and began to wind the rope around her arm.

"Polly Plantar, inventor extraordinaire! At your service." Polly accompanied her entrance with an exaggerated bow.

The professor turned to address the pollywog without hesitation. "Ah, are you the inventor?"

"Yep!" Polly confirmed, earning a look from Marcy. "But I guess my sister did teach me everything I know," she conceded.

"Well, it is a remarkable little invention. A flying machine, imagine! Do you think it could be upscaled to carry adult passengers?" he asked curiously.

"It better!" Polly declared. "I don't plan on being bound by gravity ever again!"

"I don't see why not," Marcy added with a nod. "I think the only real trouble would be alchemizing enough potion to keep the craft up." The air potion was mostly made of weeds and things she'd found around the farm and on the road, but she still hadn't had any luck cracking the mass production problem.

"Alchemy?" the professor said with an impressed tone of voice. "You study the dark arts?"

"Marcy's a whizz at all that magic junk," Polly exclaimed.

"The university hasn't had a practitioner of the dark arts in over seven hundred years!" Herringbone tugged on his beard, lost in thought for a few moments, before he asked, "Have you two ever been interested in higher education?"

"Higher education?" Polly asked skeptically.

"Well, I've definitely thought about it." Going off to college with Anne and Sasha had been Marcy's big hope on the horizon for years now. "But I'm just thirteen and Polly doesn't even have her legs yet."

"Well, it just so happens that we have recently developed a track for younger students who show great potential. I would love to have you two attend. We are having a bit of an orientation for the next semester, and I would like to extend an offer to both of you to come."

"We are pretty great..." Polly agreed, clearly flattered by the offer.

"Well, I'm not against it." Marcy wouldn't mind a chance to look around– the school might have something the royal library lacked, after all. "Would it be okay if we asked our grandfather first? I wouldn't want to leave him in the dark about all this..."

Herringbone nodded. "Of course. You can meet us here at around noon tomorrow." He glanced upward and frowned. "Is... that supposed to be doing that?"

Marcy followed his gaze to the balloon, only to find that the entire contraption had caught fire in midair. It rapidly lost altitude and crashed into a group of students who were studying outside. There was a panicked uproar as the blaze spread to several of their robes. The guards that had been assigned to accompany Marcy and Polly rushed over to assist campus security in dousing the flames before they could spread further.

Marcy hissed in a breath through clenched teeth as she watched some of the newts start to dive into the river to extinguish themselves.

"Hm..." Polly looked up at the professor. "I think this is a good time to mention that Marcy was the one who really executed on my designs..."

"You two were invited to attend Newtopia University?!" Hop Pop shouted in surprise and delight. Then his brow creased. "Wait, you're both a little young for all that, aren't you?"

Marcy sat heavily down on the bed. They had just arrived back, with the guards dragging the wet smoldering remains of the Sky Plantar Mk. II into the room behind them. Polly was currently telling Sprig about her time sailing in the air. "Apparently they've started up a program for younger students to come and get a head start." Marcy shrugged.

Hop Pop smiled, looking at Marcy and Polly with pride. "Why, that's incredible! It's been a dream of mine for one of you kids to end up attending Newtopia University! Now two of you got the chance!"

Marcy beamed. "Then it's okay that we attend?"

"Yes, of course, a thousand times yes!"

Marcy grinned as she started to take off her shoes. "How'd you two make out, any luck with the bureaucracy?" Marcy asked as she rubbed at her ankle.

"Ah, right... well, it's gotten complicated," Hop Pop said, glancing back at the card game he and Sprig had been playing when they’d first arrived. "There was something I wanted to ask your help with..."

"Yeah, sure, what do you need?" Marcy sat up as she pulled out her journal and pencil from her bag. She flipped to a fresh page to take notes on things.

Marcy waited a moment for Hop Pop to fill her in, but when nothing came she looked up. She felt a little seed of worry as she saw how his expression had shifted to one of... disappointment? Or maybe worry? "You know, Marcy-"

"Some guy's brother was cursed by a cup! Can't spend any money or he feels like he'll die!" Sprig jumped in. "Heard you knew magic stuff and wanted your help."

Marcy's eyes lit up. A genuine magic item, one that cursed the user! She'd do anything to get her hands on such a thing. "Oh yeah! I can definitely help with that, do you have the cup with you? Should I not go to the orientation tomorrow?"

"No, no. That's alright," Hop Pop said with a shake of his head. "If you're okay with working on it, then we'll get the cup tomorrow." Sprig looked at Hop Pop expectantly. Hop Pop rolled his eyes. "Yes, Sprig, that means you're with me tomorrow."

"Woohoo!" Sprig punched the air in excitement.

Polly squinted suspiciously at her brother. "Wait, why are you so excited? You left this morning looking like one of those mushroom zombies."

"I'll have you know," Sprig adopted a mature expression and gestured to himself in a grand manner, "that I have gained a new appreciation for civil service."

Polly and Marcy exchanged skeptical looks and then turned as one towards Hop Pop for an explanation.

"It's a long story..." Hop Pop said. Marcy shrugged and started to flip through the pages of her journal, going back to her early notes on curses as well as the few notes she had made about the magic items in Valeriana's stand. If she could crack how it worked then maybe she could- "You two want to come play a card game me and Sprig are learning?" Hop Pop's offer shook Marcy out of her concentration.

Marcy glanced over to the table where a number of cards had been abandoned once Marcy and Polly had returned. It had been a while since they'd had a family game night... "Yeah, wouldn't be the first new game I learned today.'' She tucked her pencil inside her journal as a bookmark and set it aside. She grabbed her crutch and leveraged herself back to her feet. "You in, Polly?"

"Sure, I guess," Polly said. Sprig picked her up and carried her to the table. "Plus, I can tell Hop Pop and Sprig how it feels to conquer the sky itself! " Polly declared dramatically.

Once they were all seated, Sprig gathered up the cards and began to shuffle them together. "Okay, so first of all, you need to match the weapons to weapons or symbols to symbols. No, wait, first of all, you start with eight cards. No actually, first of all you are trying to get rid of all of your cards." He started to deal each of them a hand of eight.

Hop Pop reached out to snatch a card Sprig had almost sent sliding off the table. "Now hold on a second, I thought you could only play on the same weapon, is that what these little symbols in the corners are for?"

Polly looked at her cards for a moment and then threw them on the floor. "There, got rid of my cards, do I win?"

As Marcy watched her family try and decipher things, she felt some of the tension she’d accrued over the past month unwind. There had been some close calls, but they had pulled through. She still had to fix things for Anne and Sasha, but her family was safe for the moment and she didn't have to worry about them. They were all safe.

As Sprig collected Polly’s discarded hand he looked up at Marcy. “Any questions, Marcy?”

“No. No, I think I got it,” Marcy said, picking up her own hand. “It actually sounds pretty familiar.”

Hop Pop kept one hand on Sprig’s shoulder to keep him close as they walked through the long, narrow corridor. He could see light emanating from the far end, but they’d been walking in darkness for some time now. In his opposite hand was the supposedly cursed cup, an ostentatious, bejeweled, golden goblet.

Prawnleg strode in front of them, speaking in a low voice. "Alright, so the tournament works like this. In the normal game you get points for every card your opponent still has, right? First to one hundred wins, right?"

"Sure?" Hop Pop didn't remember that rule.

Sprig had a better handle on things. "Yep!" They were nearing the end of the corridor now.

"It’s the opposite here. Everyone in the tournament starts with a hundred points and you lose points each round based on what cards you have left. Once you lose all your points, you're out of the tournament."

"Got it," Hop Pop said with a nod.

They emerged at the end of the tunnel, and Prawnleg shifted a curtain to the side to reveal one of the swankiest card dens that Hop Pop had ever seen. If he hadn’t been to the royal palace, it would have been the fanciest place he’d ever seen, period.

The hexagonal room’s six walls were decorated with large tapestries that depicted Newtopian royalty, each one framed by rich, red drapes. They stood on a balcony that ringed the room, along with a host of powerful-looking newts who mingled with one another or gazed down at the lower level with detached interest. Hop Pop glanced over the railing and saw that the center of the room was dominated by six differently colored tables, each with six matching chairs. Newts wearing the purple robes of Newtopia’s bureaucracy darted from table to table to prepare them for use.

"Alright." Prawnleg pulled out a pair of poker chips, one red and one yellow. "These were our invites, sit down at the table matching your color." Sprig and Hop Pop reached for the chips, but Prawnleg held fast to them both. "You know there’s no guarantee you'll win, right?"

Hop Pop nodded. "So long as you know, there is no guarantee Marcy will be able to help your brother."

Prawnleg nodded back and relinquished the chips. "Well, good luck to both of you," he said before heading back into the darkened corridor.

Hop Pop took a step forward. "Alright, Sprig, I've been in crowds like this before. Stick close, don't trust anyone, and don't eat-"

"Mm, what's that?" Sprig mumbled from behind him.

Hop Pop turned around to see Sprig shoveling seafood appetizers into his mouth from a tray held by an uncomfortable-looking newt waiter.

Hop Pop sighed. "This is going to be a long day.”

“Polly… psst, Polly! Wake up!” Polly stirred to wakefulness as Marcy gently prodded her.

Polly blearily opened her eyes. It looked like they were back in the archives in the valley. Books lined the walls in well lacquered wooden shelves. However, as she looked around she realized there were windows that let in far more natural light. She remembered arriving at the university with Marcy, and the professor starting to go on and on about all the things the university had. Then suddenly she’d woken up here.

"What'd I miss?" Polly whispered. She peeked over Marcy's shoulder from her hood, easily able to find the professor from her vantage point above the heads of the other prospective students.

"And this brings us to the end of our tour!" Professor Herringbone announced.

"Oh."

"We'll take a short break here before we have you all sit in on some afternoon classes. Any questions?" One of the newts near the front of the crowd raised a finger. "Yes, Ms. Shells?"

"What about that section, professor?" She pointed towards an ominous-looking door that was covered in heavy chains and padlocks. A ‘restricted’ sign hung from a nail that had been pounded into the door’s face.

"Ah yes, well spotted," Herringbone complimented. He moved towards the door, and the crowd of students followed. "These are the restricted archives, where some of our oldest tomes reside. It is off limits to everyone except faculty." For the first time since meeting him, Herringbone’s affable friendliness fell away and he fixed them all with a hard stare. "Any student caught in here will face expulsion without exception."

Shocked gasps echoed throughout the newt students. They whispered nervously amongst one another.

Polly leaned in close to Marcy’s ear. "What kind of torture is 'expulsion'?"

"It means you're kicked out of the school for good," Marcy explained.

Didn't sound like much of a punishment to Polly.

Herringbone relaxed his shoulders and smiled again. "Alright everyone, feel free to browse the books for a little while, we'll head off to classes in half an hour," he announced. Polly rode along with Marcy as they started to go through the shelves of books. Marcy used her tappity tap trick to quickly scan through a few of the shelves, but didn't seem to find what she was looking for. She did locate a book on siege artillery for Polly, and the two of them pored over it together at one of the tables.

Polly drank in the knowledge as Marcy explained how the placement of the counter-weight on a trebuchet enabled it to hurl a rock the size of Bessie hundreds of feet away.

Out of the corner of her eye, Polly saw the Professor making the rounds to talk to various students. Marcy was in the middle of explaining why it would be nearly impossible to attach a working trebuchet onto the Sky Plantar Mk. II when he arrived at their table.

"Hello, Ms. Plantar. How did you find the tour?" He directed the question to Marcy.

"It was incredible. I would love the chance to experiment in the labs here. This place is really quite remarkable," Marcy said with a smile. "I'm surprised it was established over a thousand years ago."

"Yes, ours is one of the few organizations that can trace its roots back to before King Andrias took the throne. Even if the records of our accomplishments thereabouts are spotty."

Feeling ignored, Polly raised a flipper in objection. "Aren't you going to ask me how I found the tour?"

Herringbone smiled wryly. "Well, from what I observed, you seemed to find it quite soothing."

"Oh." Polly frowned. It wasn't her fault Marcy's hoodie was so comfortable.

"It's alright. You are just a pollywog. I may have been a tad hasty to invite someone so young, no matter how promising," Herringbone admitted. "If you don't feel ready for all of this," he gestured broadly around the room, "I certainly wouldn't blame you. There will be a spot open for you for as long as I'm dean here."

"Hmm..." Polly hummed. She had been flattered by the offer, but by all accounts this whole thing reeked of boring junk. Polly glanced up at her sister, who looked at her expectantly. If Polly said she wanted to leave, Marcy would probably take her back to the castle, even if she wanted to stay. Marcy helped her out all the time, the least Polly could do was stick it out. Besides, she liked it when Marcy taught her new stuff; maybe the classes would be more interesting than wandering around campus. "Naw, I'll stick around for the classes."

Herringbone smiled at that. "Very well then, let's get to it." He clapped twice and projected his voice out into the library. "Everyone here for orientation! We will be moving onto the class portion of the tour shortly. You will be sitting in on some of the last classes of the semester. Please return any books you have been perusing, you can check them out once you are full students."

The younger students around the library started shifting around. Marcy quickly holstered Polly back into the hood of her sweatshirt. "You sure you want to stick around?"

"Yeah, I'm sure," Polly said with a nod. No matter how boring it was, it couldn't be worse than whatever Sprig was dealing with at the moment.

Sprig hopped down to the lower level and chose a seat at the red table, where he found himself face-to-face with a newt wearing sunglasses. After a moment of silence, Sprig spoke up. “Hey there, looks like we’ll be playing together.”

The bespectacled newt nodded. "Happy to have you, kid. I hope you don't take it personally when I say I hope to crush you when things get started."

It was weird. The words were combative, but he said it in such a friendly way that Sprig couldn't help but smile. "Well, there can only be one winner right?"

"That's right. Good attitude to have." He offered his hand. "Name's Duke."

"Nice to meet you, Duke!" Sprig shook his hand. "Wait, is that a fake name?" Duke nodded indulgently. "Then you can call me... Girps."

"Pleasure to meet ya, Girps."

"Say Duke, would you mind explaining how this whole tournament works?" Sprig asked.

The answer came in a slow drawl. "You're telling me this is your first time in a high stakes underground card tournament?" Sprig nodded sheepishly "Cause I have to say? Couldn't tell. Alright, so here's how it works. You... do know how to play Singles, right?"

"Learned just last night!" Sprig produced a little strip of paper Marcy had doodled for him. "My sister even made a cheat sheet of the rules for me." It had a bunch of little illustrations of the different special card effects with explanations of how each one worked.

Duke took a slow breath through his nose before squeaking out, "That's great, kid." He took one more breath and shook his head. "Alright. So you know how each round the first one to go out gets points based on the cards everyone else has left?" Sprig nodded. "Well this tournament is a reverse of those point rules. Everyone starts with hundred points, and each round you lose points based on the cards left in your hand. As people get knocked out, we consolidate tables. Last person with points wins the tournament."

"Oh, neat!"

A sudden hush swept through the room as people at the tables all looked up to the upper level where guests were still arriving. A distinguished, elderly newt entered the room, flanked by two of the burliest newts Sprig had ever seen. He was much shorter than his bodyguards, and had a hefty potbelly, but he moved with surprising grace. He had a well-coiffed shock of white hair on his head, and thick, bushy, white eyebrows to match. He wore the same purple-and-white robes as Prawnleg. A baby killapiller was tucked into the crook of his arm, which he slowly stroked as he surveyed the room.

"Hey Duke, who is that guy?"

"That would be Don Gillz, head of the Bureaucrat’s Guild and our host for today."

So that was the guy who could help Hop Pop with getting the stuff they needed for Wartwood. "Wow, he must really like this card game to come watch people play it."

"Oh, he doesn’t just watch, he's here to play. He puts on this whole show to get some folks who will play him seriously."

Don Gillz stopped at the top of the staircase and held out one hand to the crowd, which immediately quieted down. "Greetings, all of youse fine amphibians. I hope that we can all enjoy this little tournament of mine to the fullest. We will begin shortly."

"Now, to an extraordinarily rare creature, the zapapede!" Professor Herringbone scribbled on the blackboard to produce a sketch that was the spitting image of Zappy. "They are known to be fairly docile, rarely seeking out prey; instead, they keep to their territory, waiting for prey to get close enough for them to disable. Can anyone tell me what defense mechanism they use to do this?"

Polly watched Marcy's hand shoot up into the air.

"Yes, Ms. Plantar?"

Marcy stood up, pointing one finger in the air as she explained. "The zapapede has a bioelectric nervous system that, when leveraged, allows it to send out a powerful jolt of electricity! This is often enough to disable their prey long enough for them to finish the job with their mandibles!"

"Correct!" A round of polite applause came from the other students as Marcy sat back down. "It is a very effective tool for both hunting and defending themselves! Now, there are several theories about how and why the zapapede developed this mechanism. Would anyone like to posit a possible theory?" Marcy's hand shot up again and Herringbone chuckled. "Yes, Marcy?"

"Well, I don't know the current prevailing theory, but I think it was a way to counteract the defense mechanisms of the thunder blooms that grow up in the mountains," Marcy explained. "They have a similar means of defense, but they distribute it as a burst of pollen rather than raw electrical energy." She paused for a moment. "Or, if it isn't in response to them, then I bet that they both developed similar abilities as an adaptation to the stormy conditions of the mountains."

"A very interesting hypothesis, I'll have to look more into that possibility. It sounds like it might be a fit for a theory of 'evolution' I've been working on..."

Polly took in a slow breath as she tried to stay awake. They were talking about giant monsters, how did they manage to make it so boring?

"So as you can see, Newtopia was the preeminent power on the continent stretching back before the dark age." A female newt in a high collared robe looked around the class as she explained what had to be the driest history of a place Polly had ever heard.

Marcy was scribbling down words as fast as the teacher could get them out. What was she seeing here that Polly wasn't?

Marcy raised her hand again. "Yes Ms. Plantar?"

"So, frogs and toads used to live in Newtopia alongside newts?"

"Yes! The old censuses from the start of the Andrian era say Newtopia was filled with every type of amphibian. However, the causes of what scholars call ‘the great migration’ of toads and frogs out of the city are unclear. So much from that time was lost in the great fires. Some believe that the promise of new opportunities on the frontier may have been a draw for many."

Polly flipped through the pages of the book they were supposed to be studying from, looking for any cool pictures of war or destruction, but it was all maps and portraits of old newts. She never thought she'd miss Hop Pop's stories about the old days, but at least those had some kind of point to them.

Polly listened intently to the professor; this was supposed to be some kind of engineering class. This one had to be interesting, right?

A professor with big bushy eyebrows stood at the front of the classroom, drawing a rough map of Newtopia on the board as he lectured. "...ley line network that produces a kind of tamed lightning that is distributed throughout the rest of Newtopia. This is what allows for many of the wonders in the city. We don't understand how the ancients knew of this phenomena, but they were wise enough to establish a city atop it."

"Professor," one young newt asked, "how is this lightning distributed?"

"That is where the Copper Guild comes into play. You see, the lightning travels through a series of copper wires that run beneath the city streets."

"Wait..." Marcy held up a hand and Polly looked up at her sister. Unlike most of the classes, she looked skeptical. "What are ‘ley lines’ in this context?"

"Well, we're not entirely sure. It's one of the great mysteries shrouded in Amphibia's dark age."

It sounds like what Marcy set up back in Wartwood. Polly impatiently raised her flipper. "So when do we invent new stuff?" Polly asked. She had actually been pretty excited when she heard this was going to be an engineering class. So far, though, they had just been talking about old stuff that people had already made. Nothing that Polly could use to make anything new.

"Invent?" the professor gasped, scandalized. "No, you lack all the necessary context to invent anything new. You won't be working with your hands in class till years down the line!"

Years?! Polly groaned and fell face first onto her open book.

"You alright, Polly?" Marcy whispered.

"I’m fine, just… absorbing the knowledge..."

Hop Pop was sweating bullets. He had been seated at the same table as the Don at the start of the tournament, and the Don was much better at this than him. Hop Pop had managed to hang on longer than the other four players, but he was out of his depth. Low on points, five cards in his hand, and his opponent down to two.

"Wrecker." The Don spoke slowly, his words measured and respectful. "You have been an excellent opponent. But I'm afraid I now have to end this." His voice dripped with regret as he played a wild bird card. "Draw four. I will switch the suit to arrows. Single." He held his last card with confidence.

Hop Pop shook his head; a wild bird card meant he had to draw four and skip his turn. It was all over. He drew his cards and the Don played an arrow card with a triangle in each corner. Hop Pop sighed as he handed his cards to the accountant in purple robes to deduct the last of his points.

Well, no point in being a sore loser. "Good game."

"Thank you, it has cheered me up on this, the day of my daughter's funeral," he said solemnly.

Hop Pop looked at the old newt with concern. "Shouldn't you be paying your respects instead of playing here?"

"I was not invited," the Don said. "She died trying to poison me over dinner, you see. I would not be welcome."

Hop Pop frowned, unsure how to take that. "Oh."

"Yes, my grief is unimaginable. You do your best to raise them right, but..." he sighed and shook his head. "I just think, if I had done better... maybe she would have succeeded in poisoning me, and taken over the family business."

"...Huh. Well, I'm gonna go collect my grandkid."

"Treasure him," the Don advised as Hop Pop retreated from the table.

He knew which table Sprig was at, but there was a fairly large group standing around it now compared to the last time he had checked. He made his way towards the front of the crowd, shoving through the group of bystanders. "Sprig! Sprig where are you?"

His grandson's voice sounded from the center of the group. "And I'm out!"

The crowd let out a cheer as Hop Pop got to the front and found his grandson, with a toothpick clutched between his teeth and a pair of shades on his face.

Across from Sprig, a gruff looking axolotl tossed his cards at the attendant who would record his score. He pointed an accusatory finger at Sprig. "Know this, Girps: you have made a powerful enemy this day."

"Girps?" Hop Pop looked at the scoreboard that hung above them, and saw ‘Girps’ still had sixty-one points. He was second behind the Don. They still had a chance!

Marcy closed the door to their dorm room, where a pair of freshly-made beds awaited them. They had just finished dinner in the university's cafeteria, and while it wasn’t quite up to par with the royal chef, it was still delicious. So far, Marcy had been rather enamored by everything she’d seen of the school. Even with her studies in the archives, there was so much of this world she had left to learn about– its customs, its history! The teachers were a little strict, but overall it had been a good day. It was nice to be back in an environment she knew how to thrive in.

Polly, on the other hand, seemed to be dying, languishing on her bed.

Marcy felt a little bad about the state Polly was in, but not enough to not tease her just a little bit. "Wow! What a day, huh?" Marcy sat down next to Polly.

"Uh huh."

"I'm so excited for you Polly! You have another twelve years to look forward to!"

"... Twelve!?" Polly rolled upright and stared at Marcy with wide eyes.

"Well, that's how long school lasts on Earth. Ooooh, maybe it's longer here in Amphibia!"

"No! I can't stand it! I have to get out of here!" Polly pulled out a screwdriver from where it was hidden in her bow and jumped up to the window that let light into the room. Marcy swept Polly up into her arms just before she could start causing property damage, and dropped back onto the bed with her little sister clutched tightly to her chest. Polly briefly struggled against Marcy’s grip until she heard her snickering. “Hey, it’s not funny! I thought you were serious!”

"I mean, I wasn’t kidding about the ‘on Earth’ part. There are twelve years of basic schooling on Earth. Thirteen if you count kindergarten. More if you want to get a degree somewhere."

"Ugh... I'm glad the school in Wartwood got destroyed last year."

"There was a school in Wartwood?" Marcy asked, surprised. She added it to the mental list of things they should probably get up and running in the valley. "So, college life didn't agree with you, huh?"

"Marcy, it was so boring!" Polly slouched into Marcy's hold. "We didn't do anything! We just read and listened to someone talk at us for three hours! If I wanted to do that I would ask Hop Pop to tell us one of his life stories!"

"You never seem to have that problem when we're talking about building stuff," Marcy said, suddenly self conscious.

"’Cause it all has a point! Learning how a piston can move a boat, and then building that piston to move a boat is awesome. Knowing who started what war over peanuts four hundred years ago is not going to do anything!" Polly argued. “Besides, you make everything sound fun and exciting when you're teaching me.”

"Well, that's good, at least... So why didn't you tell me earlier? We could have bailed way earlier if you weren't having a good time. I was mostly just waiting for you to give the word."

"’Cause I thought it would be fun if we did something together," Polly admitted. "You were so excited to get to go to classes, and I wanted to be a part of it." Polly pulled at the well-worn fabric of Marcy's sweatshirt. "But frog was that boring."

Marcy smiled and nuzzled the little pollywog. "Well, I appreciate you sticking it out. Hey, you want to go get possibly expelled before we get out of here?"

"Huh?"

"I want to take a peek in that forbidden section of the library. Might have some information the royal library lacks. Want to help me with a little mischief?"

"What if we get caught?" Polly asked, but her voice betrayed her excitement.

"Eh, not the end of the world," Marcy said with a shrug. "If I’ve learned anything from Saint James it’s that if you're a sufficiently talented student, they’ll forgive basically anything."

Polly smiled up at Marcy. "Then what are we waiting for? Let's break and enter!"

"Well, fortunately it shouldn't be too hard. I mean, this is just a school," Marcy said confidently. "It's not like it's a prison or something."

There was a sudden crackle from the hallway that Marcy immediately recognized as an intercom system, but before she could even begin to unpack that Professor Herrinbone’s voice boomed out of the speakers. "Alright, students, curfew is now in effect!"

All at once, dozens of security measures noisily came to life. The door lock clicked shut, and there was a brief flare of light from a searchlight shining through the window before a reinforced steel plate slammed shut over it and plunged them into darkness.

Suddenly the little school felt oppressively closed off from the rest of the world. "Huh. Well, that does complicate things a bit."

"Maybe, but people really ought to learn that they can't keep the Plantar girls captive," Polly said with pride evident in her voice. "You still got your lockpicks?"

Marcy held Polly in the crook of one arm while she opened her sweatshirt with the other, revealing the tools of the trade. "You know it."

"Nice. Can you show me how to do it again? Might as well learn something at this school."

"Sure, I don't see why not. If we’re gonna keep finding ourselves in these situations we might as well be prepared," Marcy said with a shrug. She knelt in front of the door, handed her shroomlight to Polly to illuminate the lock, and got to work. It didn’t take long to get it open.

Sneaking through the halls of the school ended up being surprisingly easy. While security was definitely stepped up, most of it was directed outward to catch intruders, not looking for those already within the halls of the school. They had to dodge a couple of security officers on patrol, but Polly and Marcy were able to keep their heads down and avoid notice.

They steadily made their way towards the library. It reminded Marcy of the trouble she would get up to with the girls back on Earth– sneaking into the school after hours to set up a prank for the following day, or to bump a paper from a failure to a passing grade. The library's main door was slightly ajar, and it produced an obnoxiously loud creaking noise as they opened it. They slipped inside, seemingly undetected, and headed straight over to the forbidden section of the library.

The locks looked intimidating, but their mechanisms were all fairly straight forward. They were certainly sturdy, though. Marcy doubted anyone would be able to force them with brute strength... except maybe Sasha. Marcy made a mental note to herself to test the extent of Sasha's power at some point. In any case, it only took a few minutes to pick the first five locks, and a few more for Polly to try her hand at the last one, before they were inside.

"Ah man, it's just a bunch more dusty old books..." Polly complained as Marcy slipped her back into her hood.

"That's what I want to check out, Polly," Marcy said with a wry smile.

"Yeah, sure. Well, be quick about it so we can get out of here. Don't want to get caught on my first heist!" Polly snuggled into the hood.

Marcy slowly paced between the shelves. Unlike the public section of the library, most of the books here were written in old Amphibian. Thankfully she’d gotten much better at deciphering the runes after she’d brute forced her way through some of the books in the castle with Ram’s help. She even recognized some of the specific tomes, likely original copies that had been duplicated for the royal library.

However, something didn’t sit right with Marcy. The space of the room felt… wrong. Too narrow. Unless there was just a bunch of wasted space, it felt like there were two bookshelves worth of square footage unaccounted for. She stopped paying attention to the titles and started to pay closer attention to the books themselves. She ran a hand over the spines until she arrived at the end of the stack, where she found a book where the dust had settled differently. Moreover, it was a cookbook in the history section.

She hooked her finger on the spine and tugged it forward. It slid forward with a satisfying clunk, and the entire bookcase shifted backwards into the wall, revealing an ancient stone staircase that led down into darkness.

Polly's flippers settled onto Marcy's shoulders as she strained to see the passageway. "Oooh, awesome! Is finding weird dungeons a power humans have?"

"Nope, just a natural talent I guess," Marcy said with a modest shrug.

"So we're definitely checking this out, right?" Polly asked, clearly excited.

Marcy nodded. "Hey, in for a penny, right?"

“In for a what?”

Marcy felt a pang of guilt as they delved down into the dark; Sprig would have loved to join them on an adventure like this. He was probably bored out of his mind.

Sprig's brow beaded with sweat as he shifted the final two cards in his hand. The Don sat across from him, eyes full of respect. "Girps. It takes a lot of chutzpah for a kid to step into this hall. The fact that you made it this far is admirable. But it's time we ended this." He revealed a card decorated with all four weapons and placed it on top of the stack. "I change the suit to..." he paused for a moment to take in Sprig's expression, then smirked before he continued, "...axes." Sprig clenched his eyes shut. "Single." With a co*cky grin, he flashed his last card. Another card that could change to any suit. Even if Sprig could change suits it would be no use. "Looks like I'll be the victor once again."

Sprig still had two cards left, both daggers. One was cursed and one was a trapezoid. Neither were of any help. Still, he had one way out of it.

"It's not over yet." The Don raised a brow in interest. "There is one card that can win this for me."

Sprig laid a hand on the central deck and took a slow breath. Then he flipped it upright and gave a smarmy grin to the Don, whose confidence faltered for the first time that day. Sprig slapped the card down– a cursed axe. "Skip your turn!" Sprig’s declaration was met with gasps from the crowd, and he pulled back only to slam his cursed dagger down on top of it. "Skip your turn! Single!"

The Don looked up, his single remaining card falling flat onto the felt card table as he realized what was about to happen.

Sprig stood in his chair, braced one foot against the table, and slammed down his last card. "Dagger! I’m out!" Sprig said, pointing both fingers at the stunned Don.

Sprig suddenly felt himself briefly lifted into the air as his grandfather scooped him into a hug from behind. “Woohoo! Sprig, you did it! We’re gonna help so many people!” The two danced with excitement at the thrill of victory. Onlookers started to cheer and congratulate Sprig on his win.

Hop Pop set Sprig back on the raised chair and patted his shoulders to settle him down.

The Don was still looking in disbelief at the last two cards played. "Ha… haha… Ah! This game never ceases to surprise me." He looked up at Sprig warmly. "Congratulations. What favor would you ask of me?"

Hop Pop smiled up at Sprig and gestured for him to go ahead. Sprig turned, holding up a finger. "I want... uh..."

"Paperwork for the valley," Hop Pop whispered up to him.

Sprig snapped "Right! We’re stuck waiting for some paperwork that could really help out Frog Valley. Could you help push it through?"

The Don leaned back and shook his head in disbelief. "You would use your prize to aid your hometown?"

"Well, yeah." Sprig had always loved his home. But after seeing Newtopia, Sprig finally understood Marcy's drive to improve Wartwood.

Don Gillz looked shocked by the words. "To think, you would spend my favor, which could make you wealthy beyond measure-"

Sprig held up a hand. "Wait, what?"

"-to help your fellow amphibians. Your generosity humbles me. I will grant you this, and know that so long as you reside in Newtopia, you will be under the protection of the guild.” He turned to some of the attendants waiting politely at the edge of the watching crowd. “Now, bring out the food and drinks! Best make it juice for our young champion here."

Marcy frowned as she shined her shroomlight on the collapsed archway in front of her. This was the fifth blocked path they’d encountered on the way down, and as she proceeded even further down the stairs she was starting to wonder if this section of the library was restricted purely for safety reasons.

“Oh cool, water!” Polly interrupted her train of thought and hopped out of her hood to splash into a stagnant pool of water that awaited them at the bottom floor. “Brrr… cold. At least this one isn’t caved in like all the others, huh?” Polly said as she eagerly started to paddle down the hall.

Marcy nodded in agreement. At least they had something to explore, even if it was flooded. Marcy looked down at the water and tested it with her crutch– it was about a foot deep. Well, she wasn’t about to turn back after coming all the way down here without at least seeing what it was all about.

She tentatively lowered a foot into the water, and had to fight the urge to flinch as her shoe filled with liquid, soaking her sock in an instant. “Gah, bad…” She hesitantly submerged her other foot, shuddering at the sensation. “Terrible.”

“Come on, Marcy! Let’s go!” Polly hopped out of the water to headbutt her good leg. Marcy smiled as her sister’s good cheer distracted her from the discomfort, and she started to follow until something else caught her eye.

She glanced up at the wall to find a dusty brass plate that still shone under the influence of her shroomlight’s glare. She reached up to brush the dust away, revealing Amphibian runes.

"Marcy!" Polly complained as the way forward was shrouded in darkness. She swam up next to Marcy. "Hey, what's that say?"

Half of the books back at the royal library had been in Amphibian runes, and after burning through a third of their collection, Marcy could now sight read them without issue. But that didn't make what she saw any less strange. Especially since the architecture felt closer to the castle than anything from Earth.

"'Royal Newtopian Academy... Computer Sciences Division?'"

"Computers? That's the stuff that Frobo is made out of, right?" Polly asked excitedly.

"He's basically a computer, yeah. The important bits anyways." What was this doing beneath the school? Even with some of the relatively advanced tech in Newtopia, she hadn't seen any evidence of computers above ground.

"Maybe we can find stuff to repair him, then!" Polly grabbed at Marcy's wet sock and gave it a tug to get back on track.

Marcy cautiously moved forward, sliding her feet through the water so that she wouldn't trip over unseen rubble beneath the water. Polly scouted ahead, swiftly cutting through the water, periodically waiting for Marcy to catch up. They passed by several rooms and hallways, but most were either empty or blocked off by rubble like the floors above. The signs next to the doors marked them as work rooms for programmers and roboticists.

They had to double back from several dead ends, but they eventually found a room that wasn’t blocked off or completely empty. It had two doors, one of which had fallen off of its hinges into the water.

"Finally! The University needs to up their game. We couldn't walk two feet in the Plantar family dungeon without something trying to eat or smash us." Polly looked up; unlike many of the other rooms, which had generic numbers and titles, this one had what looked to be a temporary sign hung up next to the doors.

Marcy shone a light on the sign and ran her fingers across the faded lettering. It was a little hard to make out, but she did her best to translate. "Con… Con something, Organizer, Recorder, and Encoder Project." Marcy shined a light through the threshold of the broken door to reveal a largely intact room.

It was filled with consoles similar to the one she had found in the robotics factory, though the CRT displays were smaller, and built directly into the consoles themselves. They formed a half circle around a pedestal at the back of the room, on which rested a strange looking contraption. Long, tendril-like limbs dangled limply from a spherical shell. The front was affixed with a curved piece of glass, absolutely covered in dust.

Polly swam ahead to explore the room. "This place reminds me of that factory! Bet we can scavenge some stuff."

Marcy took a step forward. "Maybe if it's not too water-" Marcy's crutch caught on something in the water, and she felt herself start to tilt forward uncontrollably. She flailed her arms to try to stabilize herself, but despite her best efforts she face planted into the water with a loud splash. She pushed herself back up onto her hands and knees and spat out a mouthful of tepid water. "-damaged... ugh." Her freshly waterlogged sweatshirt settled heavily on her shoulders. At least her bag would be fine.

Polly swam over, looking worried. "You alright, Marcy?"

Marcy sat up, feeling the full weight of the water weighing down her clothes, and leaned her back against the doorframe. "Yeah, I’m fine, just… wet and gross.” Marcy grimaced and shrugged off her sweatshirt so she could wring out the water. She glanced up to find her little sister shaking with barely contained mirth. “...Polly? What’s so funny?”

Polly burst into full-body laughter and pointed at Marcy. “Hahaha, you should’ve seen yourself when you fell, you were all like-" Polly made a bug eyed expression and waved her flippers around wildly, "-then bam!" she slammed her flippers down to splash the water. "It was amazing!"

Marcy looked down at her sister reproachfully, then smirked. She tossed the sweatshirt in her hand over the Pollywog like a weighted net.

Marcy watched with satisfaction as Polly wrestled with the water-heavy cloth. "Hey! No Fair! Traitor!" Polly rolled around in the cloth until she was hopelessly tangled up. She struggled for a minute or so before huffing in frustration. "Marcy! Release me from this smelly prison!"

"I don't know, seems like a lot of trouble," Marcy said.

Polly groaned. "Please?"

Marcy gently unfolded the sweatshirt from around her sister and started to ring out as much water as she could from it. "Was that so hard?"

In lieu of an answer, Polly sent a spray of water up into Marcy's face before swimming out of reach to avoid immediate retribution. "Come on! Let's get moving!"

Marcy rolled her eyes and slowly gathered herself. She tossed her rung out sweatshirt on a nearby console to dry. She scooped up her crutch and shroomlight from the water and followed Polly forward into the room proper. They both wandered towards a console station that was in the center of the room, where Polly jumped out of the water to join her. There were a bunch of additional readouts and equipment that Marcy couldn't even begin to guess at the purpose of. However, both her and Polly's gaze were drawn inexorably to the large red button in the middle of the console.

"..." Polly glanced up at Marcy.

"..." Marcy glanced back before they both turned back to focus on the button, taking slow, even breaths.

"Man, good thing Sprig isn't here, huh?" Polly scoffed. "He would have hit that button ages ago."

"Totally!" Marcy agreed. "Then we'd have to deal with some horrifying dangerous thing."

"Yep... we'd already know exactly what it did if he was here."

"Good thing we're both smarter than that, right?"

"Yup."

"Better to take our time"

Neither of their eyes left the button for even a moment. Then, perfectly in sync, Marcy raised her hand and Polly raised her flipper and they both slammed down on the button. They stood in silence for several moments, but nothing happened.

"Huh. Guess that's not too surprising," Marcy admitted, relieved and disappointed.

"Man, what a rip off!" Polly punched the console and it suddenly roared to life.

Marcy heard the distinctive whir of a CPU fan turning on, and while at first only the main console lit up, soon every other console came on in response. Screens flickered to life, displaying long strings of green, scrolling binary. Marcy switched off her shroomlight as the room became bathed in green light.

"It works, it all came to life!" Polly said excitedly.

Marcy was similarly excited right up until a shower of sparks burst from one of the consoles in the corner of the room. The CPUs’ fans strained against a millennia of dust. Smoke started to emerge as other consoles sparked and died one after another. Marcy grabbed Polly from the central console and clambered onto a nearby wooden chair. She tucked the pollywog tightly to her chest and lifted her feet up and out of the water, hoping to avoid electrocution. Eventually, only the central console remained. It began to display a UI, but its graphics were heavily corrupted. An urgently flashing message drew Marcy's attention, but she couldn’t make it out from where she was. Then, with a muted bang and a puff of smoke, the central console shut down as well and they were left in darkness, with only an occasional burst of sparks to provide light.

A faint hum from the back of the room drew Marcy’s attention to the pedestal. A stone band around the base lit up as dozens of previously unnoticed Amphibian runes flared to life and began to shed an unearthly green glow through the room. Additional stone rings above the first lit up in rapid succession until they reached the spheroid resting on top. The curved glass surface on the front flickered to life.

Marcy’s survival instincts kicked in and she dove behind the nearest console to hide. Soon the only sound in the room was the robotic creature whirring to life, the light from its screen casting erratic shadows on the walls as it turned wildly in place.

Then it started to move, churning water with its long limbs as it maneuvered through the water. It produced a rapid sequence of two toned chirps. "-.--.--- -.---.-. -.--..-- -.-.----" It passed by their hiding place; its movements didn’t have the robotic precision that Marcy expected. Instead, it moved with a clumsy, four legged stagger like a newborn giraffe unused to its own legs. A panel on the back of the sphere was open, exposing a dense tangle of wires. "-.-.---- -.-----. -.--.--. -.--...- --.----- -.--.--- -.---.-. -.--..-- -.-.----"

Polly watched the robot stagger around for a few moments, then turned to whisper to Marcy. "Maybe it's nice, like Frobo?"

The creature misplaced a limb and bumped into the side of one of the inactive consoles. It let out another shrill series of beeps. "-.---.-- -.-----. -.--...- -.---... -.---.-. -.-.--.-" Several of its arms extended from its body to slam violently into the console, severely denting it. Claws extended from one of its limbs and pierced through the metal as though it were made of cardboard, and the small room was filled with the shriek of metal scraping against metal. The robot’s attacks grew so frantic that it neglected to keep itself above the water, and the body fell to the floor as every one of its limbs joined the assault. In less than a minute, the console had been reduced to a jagged pile of scrap metal.

"Okay, maybe not," Polly admitted.

The robot stared at the remains for a few moments before it moved on without a trace of its former fury. "-.--.--- -.---.-. -.--..-- -.-.----" It aimlessly circled the room for a few minutes before finding its way out through the unhinged doorway and into the halls.

Polly looked back up at Marcy again. "What do we do?"

Marcy pulled her bag off of her shoulder and started to quietly rummage through to take stock. Polly recognized a small vial of instant ice and a few boil beads, as well as their shroomlight. Evidently Marcy hadn’t expected a fight. Polly found herself wishing that she had her flail.

Her older sister gazed thoughtfully at the contents of the bag, then tapped a short rhythm against her leg. Her eyes flared with soft green light for a moment, before quickly fading back to brown. Marcy frowned a bit before she looked back up to Polly. “Alright, here’s the plan. We’re gonna try and sneak our way past.” She climbed to her feet as she spoke. “If that doesn’t work, I’ll try to incapacitate it while you swim for help.”

Well that’s garbage. “I’m not gonna leave you here.”

Marcy carefully stepped over the sunken door that had tripped her earlier. "You're not abandoning me, you're getting people who can help." Marcy looked out into the hallway for a moment, then gestured for Polly to follow her. It was almost pitch black - Marcy had one hand braced against the wall as she quietly shuffled along. Polly matched her pace as she swished her tail through the water. In the distance, she could still hear periodic crashing noises and splashing water as the robot explored the flooded floor.

Marcy crept along the dark hallway, anxiously resisting the urge to click her shroomlight on. She couldn’t afford to give away their position. Her sweatshirt hadn’t had time to dry properly, and it weighed heavily on her shoulders, but she needed the pockets for what little alchemy she had on hand.

It suddenly occurred to Marcy that she could no longer hear the robot scuttling around ahead of them, and she stopped in her tracks to listen more closely. Polly fell still and glanced at her quizzically. After a moment, Marcy whispered, “Did it run out of power?”

"Or maybe it got out?" Polly guessed.

Marcy grimaced at that possibility, but admittedly that would make it easier for them to get out.

Marcy considered waiting, but they weren't going to escape by just standing there. They continued cautiously through the darkness.

"--......" Marcy froze at the rapid sequence of tones, which came from directly above them. She slowly craned her neck to look up, and could just make out the automaton clinging to the ceiling. Its faceplate flickered back on as it released its grip to plummet towards them.

"Polly! Ru-" was all Marcy was able to get out before the thing’s bulk pinned her to the floor with a crash of metal. Marcy twisted herself around to look directly at the screen, which was displaying an image of a heavily pixelated eyeball.

With its ambush sprung, it resumed shrieking at her. "-.--.--- -.-.-.-. -.-.--.- -.-.-.-- -.-.--.." Marcy saw a little lens above the screen that she thought might be a camera; she clicked on her shroomlight and slammed the glass directly against the sensor, coating it in the enzyme Marcy had harvested to create the brightest light possible. "-.-.-.-- -.--.... -.--.... -.----.- -.-.--.- -.--.--. -.---... -.--.--- -.-.-.--" The creature staggered away and violently shook itself back and forth to try to remove the mushroom goop from its face, still producing a steady stream of high tones. "-.--.--- -.---.-. -.--..-- -.-.---- -.--.-.. -.--.--. -.--..-- -.--..--"

Marcy pulled out her vial of ice potion to hurl at the creature, but a wild swat from the robot knocked into her wrist and sent the little vial flying into the dark, where she heard it shatter against a wall. Having made contact with something, the arm grabbed onto Marcy's wrist and pinned it to the ground. Marcy tried to kick at the creature with her good leg, but the impacts didn't even seem to register.

The creature loomed over her, its single pixelated eye shining brightly with the mushroom goo as it leaned in close to her face. "-.--.-.. -.--.--. -.--..-- -.--..-- -.--..-. -.---.-." This close, the beeps were almost deafening.

Marcy felt tears bead in the corners of her eyes as her options ran dry. She grit her teeth as she felt the robot lean its weight into the claw on her shoulder.

"Sneak attack!" Polly leapt from behind the creature to land on its back, and plunged her screwdriver into the exposed wiring on the robot’s back. There was a loud bang and a shower of sparks, and Polly flew backwards as the creature’s screen glitched out.

The image of the eye on the robot’s faceplate disintegrated into dead pixels as it let out a final sequence of beeps. "-.-.-.-- -.--.--- -.-----. -.--...- -.--.-.. -.-..--. -.--.... -.-.-.-."

Marcy coughed as the thing collapsed forward onto her chest like a sandbag, knocking the wind out of her. After catching her breath she shoved it off of her and looked around the corridor. "Polly?! Polly, are you alright?"

Polly appeared in the ambient light, lightly singed but otherwise okay. "I'm alive. You?" Polly swam over next to Marcy.

"Alive…” Marcy let out a sigh of relief before she scooched herself against a wall. “Well… we were right." She tilted her head back to lean against the cool stone of the wall. "Pressing that button was a bad idea."

"Yeah. Can't believe you pressed it." Polly crossed her flippers judgmentally.

Marcy shot her sister a betrayed look. "What? We both pressed it at the same time!"

"No, you got to it first," Polly criticized. "Not very responsible of you."

Marcy let out a huff of laughter. "Yeah, I guess so. Can you forgive me?"

"Sure. Besides, I bet we can figure out a way to blame Sprig." Both of them snickered mischievously for a couple of moments before they were interrupted by the sound of splashing footsteps from one of the connected hallways.

Polly rearmed herself with her screwdriver and Marcy grabbed a fistful of boil beads from her pocket. They waited in tense silence as the intruder approached. A faint red light reflected off the wet walls, growing brighter and brighter, until the figure finally turned the corner – an aged newt carrying a red mushroom lantern.

The tension drained from Marcy’s shoulders. "Professor Herringbone?" she asked. He did a double take when he saw them sprawled on the floor, and adjusted his tiny glasses as he hurried over to them.

"Marcy and Polly Plantar, is that you? What happened?"

Marcy started to answer, but Polly jumped at the chance. "Okay! It's true!" Polly wailed dramatically. "We broke the rules and snuck down here! Now you have no choice but to expel us!" Marcy rolled her eyes.

"Expulsion?" Herringbone said. "Oh, no, I would never expel you for something like this."

"Wait, really?" Polly said, disappointed.

"Told ya," Marcy said smugly.

"No, of course not. This whole 'restricted section' is a bit of a tradition that we have here at Newtopia U." Herringbone gestured around the dimly lit hallway. "To see who amongst our new students are resourceful enough to circumvent the locks. Who has the eye to spot the false book. Who has the curiosity and bravery in the pursuit of the unknown to come all the way down here. After the silent alarm on the moving bookshelf alerted me, I came down here to find you for the same reason the dean of the school came here to find me fifty years ago– to congratulate you," Herringbone said, pride in his voice.

Marcy and Polly stared at him for a moment before Marcy hesitantly spoke up. "It wasn't sealed off because of the murder robot?"

Herringbone blinked. "...The what ?"

Polly pointed to the robot, which was still emitting intermittent bursts of sparks. "That thing came to life and almost killed my sister!"

Herringbone looked surprised. "It was moving? How did it come to life?"

"Has no one pressed that big red button before us?" Marcy asked incredulously.

"Of course they have! I did it myself! Who could resist? It didn't do anything," Herringbone said, now moving to look over the robot. He reached down to touch it, but was warded off by a shower of sparks. "As far as I know, nothing down here has functioned in the three hundred years since we've excavated it."

Marcy frowned and made a mental note of that.

"Girls, I apologize, if I knew there was any greater danger down here than some wet feet and maybe a stubbed toe then I would have come much sooner. I hope this little encounter hasn't soured either of you on attending the university."

"Well..." Marcy said a little awkwardly.

"Oh dear," Herringbone said, sounding resigned.

"I'd love to attend someday," Marcy clarified, crouching down to pull Polly into the crook of her arm, "but not right now. Even if I didn't have so many irons in the fire, I'm not ready to spend so much time away from my family."

Polly and Marcy shared a warm look before the pollywog looked back at the professor. "For the record, I was bored out of my mind all day, and do not plan on returning."

Herringbone nodded in understanding. "Fair enough. In any case, if you should ever change your mind, know that as long as I remain dean, you may return when you feel ready."

Polly tapped Marcy on the shoulder and gestured for her to bring her head closer. Marcy ducked a bit to listen. "Hey, do you think we could use any of the parts from ball-boy over there to fix Frobo?"

Marcy glanced at the robot curiously. She wouldn't mind getting a chance to examine that as well. Well, no harm in asking. "Hey professor, would it be possible for us to take this thing to tinker with?"

"Sure," Herringbone said casually. "Just be sure to write up a paper detailing your findings."

"...really?" Marcy had expected more pushback.

"You seem to know more about what this thing is than anyone here does. Besides, I'm no engineer, but I think an old adage from my field research days in the biology department applies." He smiled. "If you kill it, you have dibs."

"Alright... well, good news: if I'm right about what all these parts are, it looks like you only destroyed the hard drive," Marcy said, smiling at Polly. They were messing around in the body of the sphere robot back in the main room. "There's some age degradation, but the power source is intact, so we should be able to use it to power Frobo."

"Yes!" Polly said with a grin, affectionately patting what Marcy was pretty sure was Frobo's hard drive. "Hear that Frobo? We’ll get you back up and running in no time."

Marcy stretched and leaned back against the bookshelf they were working next to. She looked out across the room. Hop Pop was sunk into a chair, napping off what Marcy suspected was a hangover, or some Amphibian equivalent. Sprig, on the other hand, was posing in front of the full length mirror, hair slicked back and wearing reflective shades. Marcy still wasn’t sure where the shades came from, but they made a funny counterpoint to the goggles that still rested on his forehead.

"How'd you learn about all of this robot junk, anyways? Was it also in Earth school? ‘Cause I would definitely attend if they taught this stuff."

Marcy shook her head. "No, they had a robotics club at St. James, but I was banned from the workshop during the safety orientation." In retrospect, not one of the best times to multitask. "No, I learned a lot from a Toob channel called the I.T. Girls." She'd always tuned in whenever a new episode went up, even though she didn't really have the parts to follow along with the projects. As Marcy recalled the two affectionate girls that ran the channel, she realized that she may have been drawn to them for reasons other than their stellar tutorials. "Though I got my start thanks to Harry."

"Who's Harry?" Sprig hopped over to them as the talk about sensors and wiring ceased.

"Harry was my... mentor?" That didn't feel quite right, but it was close. "After third grade, my mom signed me up for this sci fi science camp. We’d do different little projects each week, and we were each paired up with a college student who would help us out. For me, that was Harry." Marcy grinned as she remembered the lanky freckle-faced college student. He'd been really patient with and nice to her, and he was always quick on the draw with the fire extinguisher. "Our last project lasted a few weeks and was an introduction to robotics and I got... a little carried away, but Harry helped me out every step of the way. There was a little science fair at the end to show off our projects. We almost won, too."

Polly perked up. "Why didn't you?"

Marcy thought back on the day of the fair. The last project was themed after Asimov's three laws of robotics. They had built a hair cutting robot that the judges said broke the first law. She still felt that was a bit of an exaggeration– just because they didn't like their haircuts didn't mean Hairbot had 'done harm.’ "A technicality," she summarized, quickly moving on. "In any case, I hope he's doing well." They'd predictably lost touch, but Marcy still remembered that summer fondly.

Sprig noticed Marcy's open journal sitting on her desk and hopped onto it to get a better look. "Is this a new project?" Sprig's eyes thoughtfully scrutinized the journal. "It looks sort of familiar."

Marcy nodded. "You probably recognize it from Vagabondia Chronicles. Remember the weapon Toma used?"

"Oooh," Sprig said appreciatively.

Polly looked up with interest. "Wait, really!? Let me see!” Polly gestured for Sprig to bring the journal down.

There was a loud knock at the door; Hop Pop groaned, clutching his head in response to the noise.

"I got it." Marcy pushed herself to her feet. She walked over to the door and cracked it open. A royal newt guardsman stood on the other side. "Hello? Sorry, someone is resting, can you please keep your voice down?"

"Apologies, Lady Regina," the newt said quietly. "King Andrias has extended an invitation for a rematch if you are free."

"Fascinating! Well, few are offered a standing invitation to the university," Andrias said with a little laugh.

"Thanks!" Wit said as she started to shove her heron rider to the left side of the board, avoiding the trap Andrias had set. It was certainly shaping up to be a much more challenging match this go-round. "Dean Herringbone seemed impressed "

"And your ankle is better, I see?"

"Yep! Still a little sore if I bend it the wrong way, but it doesn't hurt to walk on anymore." Wit paced around the board, examining the pieces’ positions.

Andrias reached down and moved his wart into his backline.

Playing your little game and wasting time as always, I see. The voice of the crown momentarily overpowered his thoughts.

We have to play this carefully. To get the box back charged, we need her cooperation, Andrias argued back.

Andrias nodded. The truth was he had a purpose in all this, but he couldn't be the one to bring it up. He'd been careful in what he'd learned about Wit up until this point. Captain Waybright had been cagey with Andrias, only providing physical descriptions to pass on to the rangers searching for her friends. Yunan had been more pliant. She had initially been hesitant, but once Andrias expressed concern about Wit and Heart being threats to the kingdom, Yunan was eager to open up about how harmless the two girls sounded from Waybright’s descriptions.

It was secondhand, of course, but Yunan had given him the impression that this girl was a ball of sunshine. However, that hadn’t been Andrias's experience with her so far. She spoke earnestly, but her words often had a distinctly rehearsed quality. Of course, it made sense that her treatment by the tower toads did a number on her. Figures that those half-wits would complicate things. They could have spoiled everything.

Additionally, something had clearly happened between her and Waybright– the guilt was written all over Wit's face after Sasha had announced her confrontation with Grime. Whatever she had done was bad enough that Waybright had avoided her for days afterward, despite months spent constantly searching for her.

He also needed to find out just how much Wit had been able to uncover of Amphibia’s history in her short time here. Between the frobot head she arrived with, the improvements she had made to that backwater town, and those devices her and Waybright had brought to the world, fully hiding the empire's past was an act of futility. She already had too many pieces of the puzzle. Andrias needed to make sure the pieces fit together in a way he wanted.

He noticed Wit’s attention drifting, not for the first time. She was unfocused on the game in front of them– she hadn't even seemed to notice that Andrias had made his move. He waited for a minute to avoid seeming too eager before clearing his throat. "Marcy?" Wit shook her head at the call. "It's your turn."

"Oh! Oh, you moved your Wart back." She rubbed at the back of her head, looking embarrassed. "Sorry, I was just... lost in thought." She frowned and her attention immediately began to wander from the game again.

Andrias couldn't afford to be too forceful, but a little push might be prudent. Waybright wouldn't be out of the city forever. "Something on your mind?"

Wit took a moment to gather herself and then looked up at him, tapping her foot. "I've just... I've noticed something strange while I've been here."

"Oh?" This is what he'd been waiting for.

"Well, the technology here in Newtopia... its leaps and bounds farther along than the rest of Amphibia. Air conditioning, refrigeration, I heard there was a Ferris Wheel downtown..."

"Not like the rest of Amphibia, is it?" Andrias provided. "Like something is amiss?"

Wit nodded, encouraged by his calm demeanor "Almost, except... well.” She hesitated for a moment, but then continued. “While we were on the way to Newtopia, we found this destroyed factory." Andrias hummed in recognition– familiar, but not too eager. "That, and everything else… Amphibia used to be much more advanced… didn’t it?" She watched him carefully, but he could already see the glimmer of curiosity winning out over the caution in her eyes. "I couldn’t find anything from before you took the throne. What… what happened?"

Andrias took a slow breath. It wasn't hard to look his age, to let the weight of the centuries settle on him. "I suppose given your task you deserve to know... I made a mistake, and it nearly cost us everything" He had considered the best tack to take here. It had taken a few days, but he had a read on the girl now. She had clearly done something to Sasha, something his captain was seething over for days afterwards, and Wit was crushed under the weight of her guilt. "Let me tell you a bit of Amphibia's past, Marcy, if you would indulge an old man." Andrias sat down in his chair, and gestured for Wit to take the one opposite from him.

"As I'm sure you have surmised, Amphibia was once a much more prosperous and developed world. Once, we had industry, technology, and a thriving culture. All of which would put the modern city to shame. None went hungry within or without the walls. It was a golden age..." Andrias sighed, letting the true ache of his misguided trust fill him. Wit seemed content to listen, so he continued. "You see, Marcy, we were once a trading empire. The box that brought you here allowed us to trade across dimensions. It made us rich in both coin and culture. Resources and ideas were traded in equal measure, and Amphibia was all the better for it."

Wit’s expression remained guarded. "What happened?"

Andrias decided to play a hunch; at worst it should still make him sympathetic in her eyes. "I was... naïve. You see, my forefathers guarded the secret to our power and success from our trade partners. All trading had to be done through us; everything was taxed by the kingdom, and I thought of the good we could do in sharing our technology. If everyone could trade freely, imagine the advancements we could make collectively! That all might flourish as Amphibia had... so I shared our technology, the methods of using the energy of the box to travel between worlds. It… was a grave mistake."

"I thought they were our allies, partners– but in truth, they had resented us. My ascension to the throne presented a chink in our armor… I was far too trusting. They attacked us, waged war, teleported soldiers and monsters to our world. They wanted to steal the box and wrest control of the world from us. We adapted our frobots to fight against them, but it wasn’t enough. I was forced to conscript citizens to fight, lest we be overrun. Our enemies were many and we couldn't stop them from coming through..."

"You didn't know that would happen... you were trying to help," Wit said. He could see the guilt in her expression. So whatever she had done was selfish, hm?

"Yes, well... it's easy to hope for the best, isn't it?" Andrias said.

Wit nodded, eyes downcast. "How did it end?"

Andrias took a breath. He knew this version would pick at old wounds, but not without reason. "With a betrayal," he said heavily, and knew it was the right approach by the expression on Wit's face. "A good friend of mine, Leif, stole the box in the middle of the night, spiriting it away…" Andrias held up a great hand, "...and like that," he snapped, "the war was over. Without the castle projecting the box's power, our enemies could no longer use our technology against us."

"So... she saved everyone?" Wit asked, confused.

"No.” Andrias shook his head slowly. “It’s true that she ended the war, but after we lost power, every one of our factories shut down. Every frobot who worked the fields stopped harvesting." He saw her face grow pale and knew that she understood. "Food was scarce, medicine more so. What survived our enemies was nearly destroyed by starvation, plague, and unrest.”

The words hung heavy in the air. "...Is there really nothing left from that time?"

"I’m afraid that even if there is some lost repository of knowledge, I am ignorant of it." Andrias had hoped to conceal the box's true nature originally, but as much as he would love to ‘stumble across’ the hidden library to speed up their search, Waybright would see right through it.

"Then... why haven't you told everyone about the past? Or recorded it yourself?"

"And let them all know they are living in the shadow of their ancestors? Before you and your friends’ arrival, I thought the box truly lost, never to return. I would rather my people look to the future. I ensured that the practical things, medical devices and the like, survived, but the history could only discourage my people," Andrias argued. "However, soon we won’t need to hide things any longer. When you and Captain Waybright find and return with the box, we can finally set things right."

"You think so?" Wit asked, sounding skeptical .

"I know so! Oh, Marcy, the wonders we'll be able to accomplish! We'll finally be able to make the frontiers safe again, ensure all have access to the medicine currently limited to Newtopia! We'll once again be able to trade with new worlds and perhaps..." he looked pointedly at the girl, "...old friends?"

Wit paused in her thinking to look up at Andrias in shock. "Wh- you mean me ?"

"I'm sorry if I'm being presumptuous. I know Sasha is hellbent on returning to this 'Earth'-" he exaggerated the pronunciation to sell his unfamiliarity, "-but you did introduce yourself as Marcy Regina Plantar when we first met; I thought that, perhaps, you had decided to stay here in Amphibia. Was I wrong?"

Wit rubbed at her thumb anxiously. "Well... no. I do want to stay with the Plantars..."

"Then... perhaps you have no interest in seeing your friends after they depart?"

"N-no! I..." Wit was vulnerable. Just as he'd suspected, this was clearly something she wanted desperately. "You'd really let me use it for just that?"

"Just that? If you two can restore the box to its rightful place, it would be the least I could do!" He chuckled. "I mean, we'll have to set a schedule at first, times to depart and be picked up and what not. However, with a mind like yours in Amphibia, I imagine we'll have a much more convenient arrangement before too long!" Andrias encouraged.

Andrias could see it reach her eyes now, the hope, the motivation. He had her. "Thank you Andrias, I promise I won't let you down."

"Of that I have no doubt," Andrias said with confidence. "For now, though, let's focus on the game; you're doing much better than last time."

"About that..." Wit grinned and strolled leisurely to the left side of the board. She nudged a pawn, one that Andrias had nearly forgotten about, forward to capture one of his own. "I think that's flipwart in two, right?" She grinned as she dragged Andrias’ captured pawn off the board.

Andrias returned his full attention to the board in disbelief; the hole in the line she had created would allow her champion to move into position to take his king. If he moved his bishop to cover the gap, it would allow her heron rider to slip through to his wart. Andrias stared long and hard trying to find some way to counter it, but his most mobile pieces had been drawn out to the right side of the board. He had lost.

He felt the Core’s focus return fully to their conversation as it reevaluated Wit’s mantle holder.

Andrias started to chuckle, looking down at Wit... at Marcy with respect. "What can I say? You have me right where you want me."

Chapter 14: Olivia and Yunan

Chapter Text

- Marcy’s Journal -

Day 143 in Amphibia,

Alright, so great news! First I was introduced to a super fun new board game called Flipwart! It feels like learning chess for the first time all over again! Second, I think I'm kind of friends with the king now? He seemed to really enjoy having someone to play with, which makes sense since I found out later that he is, like, one of the best players in all of Amphibia. (Which makes me very proud to have won three of the five games we played so far!)

I took a gamble and asked if I could run some ideas by him for ways we might make Amphibia better for everyone living here. I was worried he'd be insulted, but he seemed pretty receptive. We're gonna have another game day to play some more Flipwart and talk through a couple of them.

[The following section has been decoded for the convenience of the reader.]

Okay, so the best news about all this is that Andrias said that after all is said and done, he'd let me travel to and from Earth to visit the girls. (Assuming I can patch things up with Anne. Which I thought would be impossible, but I thought the same thing about Sash and… nevermind, off topic.)

I feel weird about keeping all the ancient tech stuff a secret, though. Andrias thinks that it would cause people to pine for a lost past, but I’m not sure I agree – I think it would inspire people! It’s not really my call to make though, so I'm not gonna rock the boat in that regard. Besides, it will hopefully be a moot point once we get the box recharged.

Day 144 in Amphibia,

Got to study so much stuff today! :D First time in a while I've been able to just lose myself in something.

I finally got around to looking at that cursed cup, and man it is fascinating ! I think this is actually some kind of magic item! Like an honest to frog magic item. I’ve only seen things like this before at Val's stand at the Bazaar. (Though some of those might have been fakes. Anne did say she was pretty shifty.)

Anyways, after examining it closely I found some runes etched into the side, and made a connection I hadn't before! The runes that are used in the old kingdom tech (Like the music box and the robot's power source) and the occult runes that are used in Dark Arts rituals are nearly identical! There are some minor differences in the lettering, but they seem to work under similar principles. I think they both draw energy from an outside source to do magic/tech stuff. This will be a big help for me and Polly to get Frobo up and running.

That's the big news! See you tomorrow

Oh right, the cup. So, from what I’ve seen so far, 'magic items' are essentially items with rituals inscribed upon them, requiring some action to act as the last step in the process to activate the effect. Figured out the triggering action is to take a drink from it, but I still can't figure out how it’s making that guy feel like he’s going to die when he buys stuff.

Day 145 in Amphibia,

It's been a few days since Sasha and Yunan left to deal with the barbariants. I hope nothing's happened to them. I asked a few of the guards if there had been any updates, but they said that was privileged information. Sometimes it’s easy to forget that we're technically prisoners here. I hope she's alright. :-/

To keep myself distracted, I'm gonna experiment with my little jar of magic moss. I've tested it out every so often, but touching the moss has a really powerful disorienting effect at first that then fades pretty quickly. Trajectory keeps the disorientation at bay but it’s... well, I'd rather not have to be stuck in it for extended periods of time. Gonna try a couple of things to even out the effect. Make it last longer.

[A number of experiments are detailed on the last half of the page – various recipes, each with a brief note describing their failure. The following is after the last of these, with the simplest recipe.]

Success! I was really overcomplicating this. So, either the moss was an alchemic negator, or it was simply too powerful to mix with anything I have available. Every potion or salve I tried to make it work with alchemically failed on contact with the moss. I ended up going for a much more mundane solution. I incorporated the moss into a hand lotion and it worked out really well! I think letting it sink into my skin keeps the initial disorientation at bay and sustains the effect for much longer.

I was even able to ‘talk’ to Petey for a while. Or at least I could talk and could kind of gauge his reaction? Apparently he really liked it when I carried him around on my back when we first arrived in Newtopia, so I took him for a little walk around the castle. I ran into Lady Olivia and we got to talking about botany and gardening for a little bit. She had to leave before too long, but she offered to give me a tour of the royal gardens in a few days.

Day 146 in Amphibia,

Sasha's back! There was a tremor this morning that woke up most of the castle – it turns out Sasha and Yunan had to collapse the whole nest in on the barbariant queen! Apparently it was a pretty grueling mission. I'm so glad that she’s they’re both back safe.

Sasha also invited me to join her for some combat training to get me a little more sure on my feet before we have to head back out into the world. I definitely don’t want to slow her down, so I’m gonna give it my best shot!

"Defend!" Sasha swung her training sword in a lazy arc toward Marcy’s ribs. To Marcy's credit, she managed to read and intercept the attack, as well as a pair of quick follow-up strikes, but she was absorbing the blows rather than deflecting them. Her guard was reasonable, but her posture was unbalanced, and she faced Sasha head-on, presenting a large target.

"Attack!" Sasha commanded. Marcy hesitated for a moment, then darted forward with a badly-telegraphed jab. Sasha parried neatly with a backwards step, and Marcy’s clumsy footwork left her stumbling to catch herself before she fell. Sasha took one stride forward and gave Marcy a hard shove in the middle of her chest.

Marcy’s arms windmilled wildly as she tried to regain her balance, but she rapidly tipped past the point of no return. Sasha’s hand shot out to grab her by the collar of her t-shirt and arrest her momentum before she finished falling.

They stood quietly for a few moments, staring at each other; Marcy's face was flushed with exertion as she fought to catch her breath, while Sasha breathed steadily.

Sasha started to tease her friend when suddenly the world changed. She was in a different room, the sunlight that poured in from the windows was bright compared to the overcast light from a few moments before. Marcy was gone, replaced by the ugly mug of the toad that had been haunting her since Frog Valley.

“H̕͝ą̴ḩ҉͠a̡͘ ̵lo̵̕͝ok̷s̴ ͟li̛͏k͢e ̛̕͟y͠͝ou̡ ̡͜f̀͜͡i̡̕n͏̛al̀l͝y̡ ̧g͢͢͠ot̨͟͠ ҉̸̧t̸͏͡h͢e̛ ̨̕beţ̶͜ţȩ̛r̷̴ ̶̡o͢f̡ ̵͜ḿ̡͠e D͟͝r̢͟͝i͏͘a̴͝ş̢!̵”

Then, Sasha noticed her pale white skin had been replaced by smooth blue amphibian flesh and she flinched away, letting go on instinct.

Sasha’s room snapped back into focus as Marcy fell backwards with a startled yelp. Fortunately, the impact was cushioned by the plush rug Sasha had dragged in. She’d had to requisition one for her room since Marcy's room had become too cluttered to really spar in without tripping on everything.

“Oof. You alright, Mar-mar?”

Marcy nodded, too out of breath to reply, and laid back on the ground, massaging her sword arm’s wrist. Her chest heaved and -

Sasha spun on her heel and walked to the corner of the room, where a pitcher of water she had ordered earlier waited. "Water?" She offered over her shoulder.

Marcy gave a shaky thumbs up, so Sasha brought her a glass, which Marcy took appreciatively and downed in short order. "Thanks, Sashy." She grimaced as she rubbed at her wrist again. "Do you really have to hit so hard, though?"

"It wouldn’t hurt so much if you parried it instead of blocking,” Sasha informed her bluntly. "Your wrist is absorbing the full force when you block. You have to redirect it." Marcy nodded, but looked discouraged. Well that’s not going to help anyone. Sasha knelt down to Marcy’s level. "Learned that the hard way training with Yunan."

"Really?" Marcy said, surprised.

“Yeah, I spent the first few nights of training icing my wrists before bed,” Sasha admitted casually. Yunan had been a lot less gentle as an instructor. “The only solution is more practice.” Sasha straightened back up. Marcy groaned and Sasha smirked down at her, offering a hand to pull her to her feet. "Hey, you were the one who wanted to do stuff together."

Marcy frowned thoughtfully at her as she reached for Sasha’s hand. “...This is payback for what happened on the mountain, isn’t it?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Sasha replied. She eyed the sword Marcy had abandoned to take her hand. “Now, here are two tips the general taught me early.” She began to pull Marcy to her feet. “First, don’t let go of your weapon, even in training.” Marcy’s eyes shot down to her training sword. Sasha waited a split second for understanding to flash in Marcy’s eyes before she let go, dropping Marcy back on the rug. Marcy glared up at her, and Sasha responded with a rakish grin. “Second, never trust your opponent.” She took a step back and flourished her own practice sword.

Sasha watched as Marcy’s expression shifted to return her smirk. "I thought we were taking a break, you jerk!" she said, standing back up.

"Did I say we were taking a break?” Sasha resumed her dueling position. Marcy had always been quick to take on any challenge presented to her; Sasha had liked that about her even before they’d arrived in Amphibia. Her favorite nerd was also apparently quite the scrapper, which she could appreciate. "Foot out front, Marcy. Let’s practice some more parrying.”

Marcy nodded, dropping into a ready stance that mirrored Sasha’s own, fire alight in her eyes.

Just as Sasha took a step forward to begin their training once more, a little phone alarm went off from a corner of the room. Sasha recognized it as the battle music from The Saga of Ganon . Of course it was. Marcy kept her eyes on Sasha, tilting her head slightly towards the sound to silently ask for permission to break away.

Sasha grinned, proud. "Smart. Let's take a break," Sasha said, stretching out her sword arm.

Marcy rolled her eyes and headed over to her bag to silence the beeping alarm. "Oh, shoot. I forgot I'm meeting with Lady Olivia today..."

"You're meeting with Lady Olivia?"

"Yeah, she offered to show me around the Royal Garden," Marcy said with a frown. "Sorry Sash, but could we…"

"Yeah, we can call it for today," Sasha said with a shrug. Honestly, getting someone else’s read on the prim and proper newt would be nice. Yunan was obviously biased, and Olivia was a stone wall around Sasha most of the time. Maybe Marcy could get her to loosen up a bit; she’d always had a way of blowing past peoples’ reservations. "First thing's first, though." Sasha retrieved her own phone and tapped the power button twice to open the camera. She threw an arm around Marcy's neck, holding her camera up high. "Gotta commemorate our first training session. You know the drill, Mar-Mar." Sasha held up a peace sign while Marcy stuck her tongue out and winked as the camera shutter clicked.

"Alright, get off! I'm all gross and sweaty," Marcy protested with a light shove; Sasha went without resistance and followed Marcy out to the balcony that connected their suites.

Sasha hummed to herself as she navigated to an editing program to add stickers to the picture. She paused when she realized they’d stopped right outside Marcy’s room, and glanced up to find Marcy staring at her with a conflicted expression. "...What?"

"You're not gonna take a bath?" Marcy asked. It came out sounding more like a suggestion than a question.

“Why would I? I didn’t break a sweat.” Sasha teased gently before flicking through a number of stickers to apply to their photo. ”Yunan said she would be having tea with Olivia around now. I’ll tag along and see if she wants to do some sparring.”

"Okay, just... give me one second." Marcy opened the door a crack to look inside. After a moment she looked back at Sasha with a too-wide smile. "Alright, come on in." She carefully slipped through the narrow opening, beckoning for Sasha to follow her. "Careful, don't let the rabbicoons out," Marcy warned as she headed towards the wardrobe.

Sasha scooted inside and closed the door behind her before the ring-tailed creatures could escape. She glanced around the room, which was empty aside from the two of them and Marcy's assortment of weird pets. "What was that about?"

Marcy pulled out a folded white dress from a drawer. "The two eldest have some wanderlust, we're worried they'll slip out and get lost..." Marcy said distractedly, grabbing a few of her boil beads.

"Not that, why did you scope out the room like that?"

"Oh well..." Marcy shifted awkwardly as she considered her words. "I was just... checking to see who was here..."

"Why?" Sasha crossed her arms and tilted her head. "Am I not welcome?"

Marcy sighed, and Sasha braced herself; this was going to be one of those conversations. "No, Sasha, I'm happy to have you here, but... after everything that happened on the mountain, the others..."

"I thought we were leaving all that in the past?" Sasha knew that she and the Squirt had come to an understanding. She was pretty sure she was even making progress on winning over the little rage ball.

"I mean, we are," Marcy stressed, frowning. "But Hop Pop's still pretty conscious of the whole… you know, ‘conspiring to murder him’ thing?"

"I helped get him off the hook for that!" Sasha protested.

Marcy sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Yeah, after you tried to kill him.”

"How many times do I have to apologize for that?"

Marcy stared at her for several long moments before answering. "...Once?"

Sasha opened her mouth to retort, but came up short. That was fair, she guessed. "Okay. Marcy, I'm sorry I almost-"

“Not to me, Sasha, I meant-” Marcy huffed out an annoyed sigh and rubbed at her temple. She turned toward her mirror and held the white dress up in front of herself. “Listen, if you don’t mean it, don’t bother. Just… try to keep away from Hop Pop, okay?” She walked briskly into the bathroom.

"Marcy! Come on, it's not-" Sasha was interrupted by Marcy slamming the door behind her. "...whatever." She rolled her eyes and fell back into a plush chair by the door to sulk.

Sasha leaned back and pondered ways to smooth things over with the old frog. Her eyes wandered around the well-appointed room she’d prepared for Marcy, taking in the clutter, when something caught her eye. Taped to the wall next to her chair was a piece of posterboard illustrated with some kind of bush. Tiny portraits of folksy-looking frogs decorated its branches. Some kind of weird Amphibian family tree, she guessed.

Just before Sasha returned her attention back to her phone, her eye caught a branch with some familiar looking faces. Dressed in what Sasha assumed was the valley's approximation of fancy clothes were the Plantar family- including Marcy. All nestled together on a branch. Like a family. Marcy's family.

…Dammit.

Sasha had been aware, on some level, that Marcy thought of the frogs as family. She’d claimed the last name Plantar in front of the royal court. She’d traveled halfway across the continent to save the eldest. She used 'brother' and 'sister' interchangeably with the two kids’ names. Sasha just hadn't wanted to acknowledge it ‘cause that would mean Sasha had tried to murder Marcy’s grandfather.

A niggling feeling of regret began to worm its way into Sasha's core, but her train of thought was interrupted by a commotion from the hallway, and she jumped to her feet.

Sprig pushed open the door. "Where'd you leave your wallet- oh, uh… hey, Sasha.” He looked around. "You need something?" He moved towards the side table next to one of the cots, pulled open a drawer and sifted through it.

"Just waiting for Marcy..." Sasha answered. She nodded to the bathroom, crossed her arms over her chest, and leaned against the wall. Sasha flicked a look over to the door as Hop Pop entered, carrying Polly.

Hop Pop directed a polite nod of acknowledgement to Sasha as he cut a wide berth around her. "Not there, Sprig. It’s gotta be in one of my other pairs of pants."

Sprig grabbed a pair of paints and emptied the pockets, to no avail. "Nope, not there either."

Hop Pop scowled and called towards the bathroom. "Marcy, have you seen my wallet anywhere?"

Marcy called back through the closed door. "Maybe it's near your reading glasses? You sometimes set it aside if you've been sitting a while!" Hop Pop nodded appreciatively and started to look around but quickly resumed scowling. After a beat, Marcy’s voice rang out. "You misplaced your reading glasses again, didn't you?"

"Ugh!" Polly hopped out of Hop Pop's grasp. "I thought we were going to go shopping today! If we're gonna be stuck here a while, I'm gonna play some games."

As Sasha watched the little family tableau play out, she felt a knot of guilt well up inside of her. Which was stupid. This was a great opportunity. All she had to do was apologize to Hop Pop and put this whole thing behind them. It would be easy, she’d apologized for all sorts of dumb crap she'd done back on earth, adults ate it up. It would be easy. She just had to walk over there and get it over with.

Sprig wandered over to where Sasha was standing and looked up at her with open concern. "Hey, Sasha, you uh… you alright up there?" he asked nervously.

Sasha's nails dug into her upper arms. Noticing this, she let go, feeling the crescent shaped indents she’d left in her skin. "I'm fine. Tell Marcy I'll see her later." She didn’t wait for Sprig’s response as she stalked past him on her way to the balcony and from there to her room. She closed her door behind her, leaned back against it, and let out an aggravated sigh.

Sasha pulled out a little vial of the origami potion Marcy had given to her – one of the failed attempts to make one that could reach Anne. Still, it was supposed to be good enough to find anyone in the city. She separated it from the piece of parchment it had been wrapped in. She considered going through the motions of folding it into a little bird or airplane, but instead opted to crumple it into a ball. She uncorked the bottle, poured it onto the paper ball, and waited. After a moment, it came to life in her hand and rolled itself in a little circle in her palm, awaiting instructions.

"Find Yunan," Sasha requested before tossing the ball out in front of her. The ball landed with a little bounce and started to roll across the ground like a tumbleweed. Sasha strolled after the ball, rubbing at her temple.

Marcy flattened out her embroidered white dress as well as she could. Cult origins or not, it was very comfortable, and certainly looked nicer than her school clothes – her sweatshirt was probably one-quarter patches at this point. The castle servants had done a great job cleaning the soot stains from her little arson gambit back in Gardington.

She took a moment to admire herself in the bathroom mirror, then returned to the bedroom. She glanced around the room; Sprig and Polly had given up the search for Hop Pop’s glasses and were playing with Marcy’s Shift, which merrily beeped its way through retro chip tunes. Hop Pop was still rooting through the family’s laundry, grumbling to himself.

There was no sign of Sasha. Marcy sighed. Well, she had given her two options.

Taking pity on her grandfather, Marcy tapped out a short beat on her arm, and a familiar pair of hands abruptly covered her eyes.

"Hey, guess who?" Marcy's own voice asked from behind her.

Marcy snorted and shook her head. "Hey, Ram."

"Good guess!" Ram removed their hands and began to survey the room. "So: Hop Pop's wallet. Probably somewhere up high the Plantars can't see from their lower vantage point."

"Probably moved by some of the servants while they were cleaning up," Marcy agreed as she started to look around the bookshelves. With Ram’s guidance Marcy quickly found the wallet atop a tall bookshelf next to Hop Pop’s reading chair. “Found it! Thanks, Ram. How's everything with you?"

"Just fine! Same as last time. I don't really have memories of my own outside of when you summon me, I only know time has passed thanks to your memories. So nothing has changed for me since our last talk," Ram informed her cheerfully.

Marcy frowned at that. They'd talked about Ram's developing personality. Outside of helping Marcy and talking with her, Ram didn't seem to have any strong desires or avenues for experiencing new things themself. Chats about anything other than the situation at hand were usually short lived due to Ram already knowing Marcy's opinions and anecdotes. Still, Marcy had an idea for something they could try.

"So you know what I'm about to suggest, right?"

"Yes! You’re thinking of running a game of ARPS for me, using my simulation ability to simulate dice."

"Would that interest you?"

"I appreciate the thought. However, it would be difficult; I would know your plans for a session ahead of time. Plus, as the simulator, I would be able to bias the results."

“Okay, fair…” Marcy hummed; that did make things a little more tricky. "Oh! What if I was a player and you designed the encounters? You'd have to react to my decisions! And I won't know how the dice will land even if you do!" Marcy said, but belatedly realized how self serving it sounded. She opened her mouth but Ram raised a hand.

"Don't worry, I know that you didn't have selfish intentions," they assured. They pondered for a moment, before adopting a sly grin. "Oh. Oh yes, I have some delightful ideas. You'd prefer to play Creatures and Caverns, correct?"

Marcy nodded. "Yes!"

"Alright, perfect, I'll start to brainstorm. Feel free to daydream about character concepts and backstories, I can incorporate them into my plans."

Marcy felt a well of excitement bubble up inside her. "Great! Can't wait!" Marcy tapped two-one-two on her arm to dismiss the spell. She stepped forward a moment, paused, then tapped one-two-one on her arm again. Everything stopped and she saw Ram sitting at the table with a journal in hand, smiling pleasantly. "Hey, sorry, do you remember why I-"

"Lost wallet, bookshelf." They pointed their pencil at the bookshelf.

"Thanks!" Marcy tapped out her exit pattern and returned to reality. She walked over and plucked the wallet from off the high shelf. "Found it, Hop Pop!" she said, holding it aloft.

"Ah! Perfect, thanks Marcy.” Hop Pop quirked an eyebrow. “Is that one of them cult dresses?"

"Yeah, it's pretty much the only change of clothes I have besides my pajamas." Marcy shrugged.

Hop Pop hummed to himself before turning his attention back on Sprig and Polly. "Alright, come on you two! You can play on that gadget later."

The little family quickly gathered themselves together to set out for the day.

"Still don't get why you're so excited to look at plants," Sprig said as he walked back into the hallway holding Polly. "We could do that back in the valley."

"They cultivate really rare plants here, Sprig, stuff that would never grow in the valley," Marcy tried to explain.

Sprig just shrugged. "I still don't get it, plants are plants. But hey, as long as you're happy. We'll see you tonight."

"We'll work on Frobo when we get back, right?" Polly asked.

"Sure thing!" Marcy smiled at her little sister.

Hop Pop paused in the doorway and looked back at Marcy. "Alright, we'll see you tonight then. I'll want to hear all about the gardens over dinner."

"I'll have some drawings to show you," Marcy assured cheerily. She patted her shoulder bag.

Marcy waved to her family as they departed and headed off through the halls of the castle. She had started to get used to all the servants and accommodations of the palace, but she still felt like no matter where she went there was a mural she had missed or a statue she had overlooked. It was more art than Marcy had ever seen in one place. It was a shame it was all concentrated here in the palace; she didn't think the public was allowed to just wander around the premises.

Then again, Marcy wasn't sure the concept of an art museum had been invented in this world yet. She pulled out her journal and started to sketch out a modest pitch for a museum for the valley. Maybe in Lilypaddington, Marcy had heard that they had an artsy scene.

As she walked, she started to sift through her backlog of character concepts, narrowing down her choices so Ram would have more to work with. Before long, she found herself at the entrance to the royal gardens, where she had agreed to meet Lady Olivia. She heard laughter as she turned the corner and looked up from her sketching to see a wide hall flanked by pillars that led to a pair of double doors with frosted glass windows. The first thing Marcy noticed was Sasha leaning against a nearby pillar. The second was Lady Olivia and General Yunan standing at the end of hall in the midst of a conversation. The last thing she noticed was a crumpled up paper ball golem circling Yunan's foot, which went completely ignored.

Marcy sidled up next to Sasha, who gave her an awkward nod before looking back to the pair of newts.

Marcy decided to follow Sasha’s lead, generally trusting her intuition on social encounters. She considered the two newts. She'd never really imagined them interacting with one another, but it made sense. Olivia was the King's most trusted advisor and Yunan was, from what Marcy had gathered, one of only three generals in the entire Newtopian army. They would probably have cause to talk to one another. However, as Marcy watched them talk, she got the feeling that there was a more personal connection between the two – Yunan boasted about her feats in the ant mines and Olivia listened with rapt attention.

Yunan wasn't acting that differently from the handful of interactions Marcy had had with her; she was just as much of a boisterous wall of energy as ever. Olivia, on the other hand, had always seemed very reserved and professional. The few times Marcy had seen her poise falter were when she was clearly angry or annoyed. At the moment she looked relaxed, even amused. A suspicion started to form in Marcy's mind, which was quickly confirmed when Yunan struck an outlandish pose and Olivia snickered softly into a gloved hand.

Marcy wasn't the best at reading people, but she was pretty sure they were flirting with one another.

Marcy smiled, feeling a new kinship with the two newts. She glanced at Sasha; this presented a convenient opportunity. Marcy hadn't really gotten around to telling her about her own self discovery since coming to Amphibia. It wasn't like she was hiding it exactly, but she didn't want to risk making things uncomfortable between them after all the progress they had made. However, Sasha seemed close with Yunan, so this would be a safe barometer to get her feelings on it.

Marcy leaned over to whisper quietly to Sasha. "Is it just me, or are those two… flirting?"

"It's not just you," Sasha said shortly. She scowled faintly at the display, tapping her foot impatiently.

Marcy took in her friend's expression and shrunk back. Sasha glanced at her, but Marcy quickly adopted a facade of neutral curiosity. Sasha crossed her arms over her chest and started drumming on her arm as she looked back to Yunan and Olivia.

Marcy tried not to feel disappointed. It wasn't that big of a deal; she could barely believe they were still friends after everything she’d done. She could keep this part of herself a secret to keep the peace.

Olivia finally seemed to notice the two waiting humans and pointed them out to Yunan, who glanced over and then turned back to Olivia. She tucked one hand behind her back, offering the other to Olivia; Olivia placed her own elegantly gloved hand into the general’s, and Yunan bent into an elaborate bow to kiss it. She looked back up at Olivia and spoke quietly to her, then stepped back to offer a formal salute before turning on her heel to march towards Marcy and Sasha.

"Marcy. Captain." Yunan nodded at each of them in turn and Sasha pushed herself off the wall.

"See ya, Marce," Sasha said as fell into step next to the general.

Marcy waved to the two of them as she pressed forward and went to meet with Lady Olivia. She greeted Marcy with the polite formality that Marcy was more used to seeing from the newt as the two of them headed towards the frosted glass doors.

The garden was as beautiful as Marcy had expected. Tucked into retrofitted battlements was a massive space kept at an even temperature. Sunlight streamed in from an overhang of tinted glass, creating a humid greenhouse environment. A seemingly endless wealth of flora was on display in the enclosure. There were many plants that Marcy had only seen in books and others that she couldn't recognize at all.

There was clearly some kind of infrastructure in place to keep all the plants watered, and Olivia was happy to indulge Marcy’s curiosity with all she knew about them, which turned out to be a lot. Apparently, Olivia's first assignment in the castle had been as the royal botanist before she’d succeeded her mother as the royal advisor. It had been her job to ensure the healthy growth of all plants within the castle. Of course, she’d had a legion of servants to aid her in the monumental task, but from the way she spoke about it, Marcy could tell she had done her fair share of gardening.

Olivia brought up the Plantar family farm, which had apparently come up in their investigation of the incident in the valley. Marcy started by talking about the various improvements to the farm she had helped to implement, which eventually brought her to the topic of her own little garden at the back of the Plantars’ plot of land.

Marcy took out her phone and navigated to the pictures she had saved. She crouched slightly to allow Olivia to see more easily, and then opened up a picture of the garden from shortly after Hop Pop had gifted it to her. It was overrun with weeds, and the stagnant pool at the center of the garden was completely covered in mossy scum. "So, this is what it looked like when I first got it..." Marcy explained as she flicked through a series of progress shots, "...and here is how I left things before we had to leave." The final shot showed a well cultivated garden, with a number of neatly segmented plant beds filled with common alchemical ingredients. Her planting had been primarily practical, aiming to ensure she had all the necessary staples of valley alchemy, but she was still fairly proud of the color arrangement.

"An impressive transformation," Olivia said sincerely. "You do your family name proud."

Marcy felt an unexpected bubbling of pride and joy at the compliment. While it wasn't the first time an adult had complimented her intelligence or accomplishments and how proud her parents must be of her, she had honestly always found it kind of annoying. Right now, though, she loved hearing the affirmation. She did her best to keep the emotion out of her voice so she didn't weird Olivia out. "Th-thank you. Though, it's probably starting to get overgrown at this point. Or pest infested..." Marcy finished dourly, wondering how much the picture still resembled the real thing.

Olivia looked at her sympathetically. "Actually, that is part of the reason I wanted to talk to you today."

"Really? I didn't think the state of my garden would really be on your radar," Marcy said honestly.

Olivia chuckled softly and shook her head. "No... but your family's forced flight from the valley did." She turned to Marcy and gave a small bow. "Lady Marcy, on behalf of the Kingdom, I would like to extend sincere regret for the way you and your family have suffered, at the hands of both the South Tower and the Royal Newtopian Army." Her words echoed softly through the serene quiet of the royal gardens.

Marcy shifted her feet awkwardly. She felt like things should be reversed, if anything. "No- no, it's alright, really," Marcy insisted, waving her hands in denial.

Olivia’s expression remained resolute. "No, Miss Planter, it is not. You and your friend were unfairly accosted by the toads due to Newtopia's indifference towards the frontiers. Then your grandfather was nearly executed because of our failure to do our due diligence looking into the matter."

Marcy paused for a moment, and felt a faint surge of hope. "Wait- so- Hop Pop's been..."

"Cleared of all charges." Olivia smiled and nodded. "It will still be a week or so before we release an official statement, but based on the results of our investigation, your grandfather will be absolved of wrongdoing, and you will be pardoned by King Andrias himself for your part in the destruction of the South Tower."

Marcy let out a sigh of relief so strong she felt like her legs might give out from under her. They hadn’t been jailed, so she had assumed that this would be the result, but to have full confirmation was still very much welcome news.

Olivia smiled, speaking softly, "In addition, I wanted to offer my own personal apologies for my own disposition towards you since your arrival." At Marcy's confused glance, she elaborated. "After our experience with the first human to arrive in Newtopia, I was nervous about a second one, especially one who arrived uninvited and unannounced into the king's throne room. However, in your time here you have been respectful, if eccentric. Your works to improve the valley and even your suggestions to the throne show both a thoughtfulness and civic-mindedness that I presumed you lacked. I hope you can overlook my brusque demeanor over these past few weeks."

Marcy nodded. She’d had no idea that Lady Olivia had felt this way. Whatever modicum of rudeness that Olivia thought she had shown hadn't even registered. "I accept your apology, it was completely understandable that you didn't trust me based on your first impression," Marcy allowed. Olivia seemed satisfied by the answer. "Can I ask what Sasha did, though?" Marcy asked, sensing potential gossip. She had previously imagined Sasha landing in Newtopia and having the palace eating out of the palm of her hand in a matter of days.

"Ugh, should I start with the rumors of a monster loose in the city or the collateral damage reports?" Olivia drawled as she motioned for them to continue through the garden.

Marcy had mixed feelings as Olivia recounted Sasha’s rather hostile attempt to escape the city. She still felt bad about putting Sasha in that position, but it was an undeniably Sasha entrance into a fantasy world. A faceoff with the city guard, a high speed carriage chase through the city streets, a dramatic showdown atop the great walls of Newtopia, and a heroic struggle against a massive cobra!

Their talk eventually turned back to plants. Many of the breeds that Marcy didn't recognize were in fact hybrids of various plants from across Amphibia, cultivated in conjunction with the pharmaceutical department of Newtopia University to create stronger medicines for the Kingdom. Marcy even got to learn that the kingdom had public healthcare for anyone who could make it to Newtopia. It wasn't ideal, but it could be fixed with some infrastructure upgrades that would be easier once they got widespread industry back in play. Maybe they could even eventually set up emergency warp gates around the continent to bring the sick to Newtopia instantly.

"Wow! As the royal botanist, did you bring any of these plants back to Newtopia yourself?" Marcy asked as she sketched a hybrid of two common alchemical ingredients she'd become familiar with. It was heron's bane crossed with twishade that created a rich purple flower with white flecks and rich blue berries hanging off of it. There was a long pause, and Marcy looked up from her sketch to find Lady Olivia gazing forlornly out the windows, where the wilds of Amphibia stretched into the distance.

"No, I'm afraid my opportunities to leave the limits of the city have been few and far between. Only once have I ever traveled far enough that the city was not in sight... and it went disastrously enough that I have not been able to repeat the experience."

From the tone, Marcy assumed it was a subject better left untouched, but the expression on the newt’s face looked more nostalgic than upset. "Would you mind if I asked what happened?" Marcy asked cautiously.

Olivia considered Marcy carefully, then seemed to think to herself for a long while. "Well, it has been quite some time since I've told this story. And I don't think I've ever had the opportunity to share it with someone who might actually appreciate it. Would you care to see some of our rarer specimens while we chat?"

Marcy nodded, following Olivia to a dead end with a plain looking brick wall. Olivia reached out and pressed in one of the stones. The entire wall shifted, parting at Olivia’s touch with a fluidity that seemed impossible. A hidden passage leading to a staircase lit by mushrooms awaited them. Olivia gestured for Marcy to follow, which she did eagerly. "Now then, this is the story of how I first met the Great General Yunan-" she said the name with well worn affection, "-before she was the Great General Yunan."

"Wait, you haven’t apologized to him yet?" Yunan asked, clearly incredulous. "How have you not apologized to him yet?"

Sasha frowned. That was pretty much what she had expected to hear, even if it wasn't what she had wanted. She stuffed her hands into her trousers and slouched. "I didn't think I needed to. I helped fix things," Sasha defended.

"Things partially broken by you."

"Fine, whatever, I'll apologize next chance I get," Sasha promised. She'd just have to wait for the right moment. "So," she started, determined to change the subject, "what are we doing?" She gestured to the street around them. After her meeting with Olivia, Yunan had headed straight for the entrance of the castle and down into the streets of Newtopia.

"I'm visiting family. You appear to be avoiding your problems."

Sasha rolled her eyes. "You would be an expert at that. Or did you actually make any progress with Olivia today?" Sasha needled. This earned her the stink eye from Yunan, which was all the answer Sasha needed. "Ugh..." Sasha groaned. Sasha had found Yunan's crush cute at first, but it had become frustrating. Sasha had been trying to push Yunan to make some kind of progress whenever they were back in Newtopia, but Yunan was stubborn and refused all advice. They were still politely having tea, the same as when Sasha had first arrived in Amphibia. "How did you two even meet?" Sasha tried; she knew Yunan couldn't resist telling a good story.

Yunan looked at Sasha and relaxed slightly. "I suppose if you have nothing better to do, I can tell you the tale... of when I first met Lady Olivia..." Sasha nodded encouragingly. This would give her a bit more to work with. "It was at the start of my career, when I was just a humble private. A common soldier in the army. I had been assigned to her guard detail in-"

"Wait... when did you join the army?" Sasha interrupted.

"It was about ten years ago as of last Spri-..."

"Ten years?! " Sasha exclaimed. She hadn't made any progress in ten years? Yunan stared daggers at her. Sasha rolled her eyes and gestured for Yunan to continue. "Sorry, go on."

"As I was saying, it was supposed to be a routine escort to the periphery… "

Yunan stood at attention in the courtyard as palace servants carried out the final preparations for the mission north. Yunan stood poised in her neatly pressed uniform with her back rigid, hand on the hilt of her sword. She was more than ready for inspection from even the most stern of drill instructors. Her fellow soldiers in the line around her were... less professional. Some she recognized from boot camp, others looked like they had been serving for a year or two. All of them were relaxed and chatting while they waited for their charge. The newcomers tried to maintain the discipline that had been drilled into them, but the older soldiers just looked irritated and proved to be a bad influence on the new blood. Yunan wanted to reprimand them, but they had seniority. For the moment, she could only lead by example.

Their leader, Sergeant Bar Nicole, emerged into the courtyard from the palace side entrance. He was an older newt with large bushy eyebrows which eclipsed his actual eyes. His armor was dented and well-worn, but impeccably maintained. He surveyed the soldiers for a moment. "Atteeeeeention!" he barked. Most of the soldiers finally snapped to proper parade rests, though some fumbled with their spears. Many of the older soldiers cast annoyed glances at Nicole before standing at attention themselves.

Satisfied, Nicole stood aside and slammed a hand over his chest in salute as a pair of women emerged from the inside of the palace, talking to one another.

One was clearly older, and wore nautilus shell earrings on either side of her head, alongside a stern expression and a gown of rich, dyed silk. "Olivia, you are to go to the north, assess the source of the crop failure, and then return immediately."

"I know, Mother," Olivia responded. The young woman was slightly shorter than her mother, with short, wavy, blue hair. She wore slightly less luxurious traveling clothes, "But as I told you, it may take time to assess the true source of the problem. It might be seasonal."

"The problem? The problem is that the frogs have grown lazy and let crops rot in the field."

The younger of the two nobles tried to interject. "But if it is a blight that's causing this, then it could mean-"

The elder shook her head, clearly not listening. "Though I am proud that you will be upholding our family's sacred vow to maintain the natural world of Amphibia." She cast a favorable look down on Olivia and put a hand on her shoulder. "Just... please, stay safe."

Olivia adopted a put-upon expression, but nodded. "I will, though with a full escort of twenty soldiers I doubt I have any input on the matter."

"For a child of the house of Caster, it is frankly lacking. You deserve to be escorted by the Night Guard, but apparently they are stretched quite thin these days." She glanced critically over the assembled soldiers.

"Mother, I am sure they are quite capable," Olivia insisted as they passed by Yunan, not sparing the escort a glance.

Yunan had the professionalism to not let it show on her face, but she wasn't surprised. It was a typical noble attitude. As the daughter of a knight, Yunan had some occasion to meet nobles before. They acted their rank, which of course meant they looked down on anyone below them.

Yunan was glad they were escorting a daughter of House Caster; they at least had reason to be proud. They had never rested on their laurels. Every member was expected to serve the kingdom in one way or another. Yunan had even heard they disinherited those who tried to live an easy life. Hell, she had heard the former patriarch of the family died in the midst of scrawling the law that ensured medical care for even the poorest citizens of the capital.

Before long, Lady Olivia had boarded the carriage and they were underway. That first day was the closest that Yunan had gotten to her during the trip. Their charge was sequestered in the carriage for most of the day. During the night, she would only briefly emerge to move to a luxurious tent set up by her servants. Not that Yunan minded, she was kept busy. Sergeant Nicole had them scouting ahead for ambushes, patrolling the encampment at night, or otherwise standing guard. It wasn't the glorious work that Yunan had dreamed of, but she knew it was necessary. Glory would come to those who were patient enough to wait for the opportunity and bold enough to seize it.

Besides, her stipend would be enough for her parents to live on. For that, boredom was a small price to pay.

On the other hand, the farther they got north, the more the attitude of her fellow soldiers started to prick at her. The new recruits rarely took their job as seriously as they should have, and they were unbothered by their own incompetence. Meanwhile, the old hands seemed perfectly capable, but chose to shirk their duties, only ever reluctantly moving to act under direct supervision of Nicole. An attitude that seemed reflected by the landscape around them.

Once through the mountain pass the land started to look… desolate. Grass was brown and dying. Tree branches filled with not just dead but rotting leaves. Farmsteads lay completely abandoned to the elements. Yunan had heard of the rugged nature of the north, but some instinct in her told her that this was not normal. Lady Olivia seemed to agree, as she would regularly venture out of her carriage to gather samples.

Something about all this plucked at Yunan's brain, but she couldn't for the life of her figure out what it was. Some half-remembered scary story told to her as a child.

It continued to bother her as they entered the Bloody Lowlands. The patrols were drifting further and further away from the group. Her gut told her something was wrong.

She stepped up her pace to catch up with the sergeant, who rode a war snail alongside the carriage driver, and flagged down his attention. “Sir! Permission to speak?”.

"Granted. What is it, Private Longclaw?" Nicole looked back at her with weathered, sunken eyes.

"The patrols are drifting sir, I haven't seen a few of them in a while.”

Bar looked skeptical, but his gaze narrowed as he observed their formation. "They are getting a little distant..." He reached for a warhorn at his side. "Sloppy, I expected better from-" A faint whistling sound was all the warning Yunan had before a bolt struck the sergeant in the shoulder and knocked him from his saddle. Yunan dove behind the hardened shell of the war snail as panicked screams sounded among the traveling party. Arrows thunked heavily into the side of the carriage as the servants scattered and ran in a blind terror. Toads burst from hiding places in the hills around them – places that should have been uncovered by the patrols. They charged toward the caravan in a ragged formation.

Yunan had often wondered what real battle would be like. She'd been in plenty of nasty street fights, and a few chaotic melees that had been part of basic training, but she had never been in a situation where her opponent was fighting to kill. In her more humble moments she imagined herself stoically facing down her foe. More often, though, she imagined herself as a hero of legend – Warrior King Alduin Leviathan born anew.

There was a fear she had, though, in the quiet of night. She wondered if, when the time came, she would be too scared to move, or even turn tail and flee as her father had done.

This fear, at least, turned out to be unfounded.

Yunan felt only exhilaration as she drew steel and dashed out of cover to confront the toads at the head of the pack. The first bore down on her with a warhammer, swinging at her in a wide arc. She ducked inside of his reach, jabbing directly for his heart, but his armor managed to deflect her sword and it skewered his shoulder instead. She briefly savored the look of pained shock on the toad’s face as he dropped his hammer to clutch at the wound, but her attention was quickly taken by the next toad in line.

She planted her boot on the first toad’s face for leverage as she wrenched her sword free; an arc of blood sailed through the air as she brought her blade to bear against the second toad, who was preparing to jab at her with a spear. Yunan was forced back by the spearman’s superior reach, but after several of his strikes were deflected, the toad grew impatient and surged towards her. She sidestepped his charge and, sensing an opportunity, lifted her foot to bring it down on the haft of the spear, ripping it from that toad’s grasp. The sudden redirection sent the toad staggering, and Yunan dropped him with a pommel strike to the back of his head.

Yunan’s chest heaved with excitement, but she could tell the fight was turning against her side. Her allies were rapidly thinning out, and while she was confident in her own capabilities, she wasn’t a one-woman army. Three bandits, having learned from their fellows’ mistakes, worked together to push her back towards the carriage. One newt and two toads working together

Each of her opponents left plenty of openings, but she wasn’t able to exploit them without opening herself up to reprisal from the other two. Her armor wasn’t sturdy enough to deflect an axe or warhammer, but she was quickly running out of space to maneuver, and she needed to make a move before her back was against the carriage itself. She tripped the toad on her left with her tail and slashed wildly at the newt in the center, managing a deep cut into their arm. However, this left her vulnerable to the toad on the right, who swung his axe at her side with a savage yell.

Yunan tried to twist out of the way, but her tail wasn’t yet ready to help her catch her balance, and she took a glancing blow. She staggered back and clutched at her side, feeling pain radiate from the open wound as the two uninjured toads closed in. She grimaced, pulled the hunting knife from her boot, and squared off against her opponents with a blade in each hand. Dispatching these two would be difficult, but Yunan was more concerned with the sight of even more brigands approaching from over the hill, armed with slings and crossbows.

Then Sergeant Nicole was in front of her, sword in one hand and hand crossbow in the other. "Yunan! Get the Lady away from here!" he ordered as he faced down the two toads.

"Sir, I can still fight-" Yunan tried to insist.

"We're not here to fight bandits, Private. Follow your orders!"

Yunan shook off her bloodlust long enough to look around. The situation was swiftly deteriorating. Toads were breaking into the luggage wagons and looting as all resistance melted away. Yunan's efforts had bought the lead carriage time, but that time was running out.

Yunan exchanged a grim nod of understanding with the sergeant then turned and rushed for the door of the carriage. As she grabbed the handle a crossbow bolt slammed home next to Yunan's head. She slipped inside before a second could find purchase in her back.

The inside of the carriage was as posh and well appointed as Yunan had imagined. Each side was adorned with thick cushioned seats, and the walls bore useless drapery that hung off a pair of rails. Lady Olivia was crouched low to the floor, clutching a broken bottle as an improvised weapon. "What's going on?" Olivia demanded.

"Ambush. I'm here to take you to safety. Excuse me." With no time to delay, Yunan strode over to her and scooped her up in her arms. "Hold on tight."

Olivia sputtered indignantly at the sudden rough handling, but couldn't seem to string together enough words to voice a coherent objection. Yunan went to the door opposite the one she came in, kicked it open, and dashed outside. There were a few toads on this side, but they were distracted and out of position. Yunan darted between their loose line. Only one of them was quick enough to take a slash at her as she passed.

"It's her! She's the one we're after!" she heard a toad bark. "After them! Don’t let them get away!" Olivia curled into her embrace as the whistle of loosed bolts passed overhead. Yunan bent down low, holding Olivia just inches above the bramble to make them a smaller target, weaving from side to side down the slope of the hill. Her side ached as the wound she got earlier continued to bleed, but she grit her teeth, focused on her duty, and pressed onward.

Yunan didn’t waste time looking back, and she barely slowed down as she reached the treeline at the bottom of the slope. The sound of crossbow bolts thudding into the bark of the trees echoed around her, but her long stride outpaced that of the toads, and the underbrush was too thick to allow mounted pursuit. Still, she didn’t stop until the sounds of battle had long since faded into the distance.

Once they were alone in the dark forest and had a moment to breathe, Yunan set Lady Olivia down on her feet, who immediately began a tirade. “Soldier, what is going on? I demand-” Her eyes darted to Yunan’s wounded side. “A- are you alright?”

“I am fine, Lady Olivia, but we shouldn’t tarry here long. They will surely follow us soon…”

"What were those patrollers even doing?" Sasha asked. She had always assumed that the rigid standards Yunan had imposed on her had been the norm, but apparently just about anyone could be in the military.

"At the time I thought they had been ambushed, but after everything was settled, it turned out that they had been paid off to turn a blind eye," Yunan snarled. "Traitors, the lot of them. There's a reason I prefer to work alone." Sasha frowned at that, looking away. Yunan glanced over at her and her expression softened as she reached over to ruffle the blonde's hair. "It's rare to find someone I can trust to watch my back."

Sasha muttered appreciatively under her breath. It bothered her how much she enjoyed Yunan's faith in her. They entered the lower section of the city, leaving the bustling mercantile district surrounding the palace behind them in favor of residential homes, where intrusive coral cracked stone instead of accenting it. "So what did they want with Olivia, then?" Sasha said, hoping to shift the conversation away from her embarrassment.

"Lady Olivia's family is one of the most powerful in the empire. Their holdings are eclipsed only by the Leviathan family itself," Yunan explained. “If they successfully ransomed her, it would be more coppers and farthings then they would need to live in luxury for the rest of their life.”

Sasha nodded. "Well, it's nice to know how you got that scar on your side. Just a glancing wound, you said?" If Yunan had managed to sprint through the full forest, it couldn't have been that bad.

"Barely slowed me down," Yunan confirmed. Then she got that soft look in her eye, and Sasha immediately knew what was coming. "Lady Olivia was kind enough to clean and bandage it for me once we stopped for the night."

"She almost died of blood loss," Olivia said, rubbing at her eyes as Lady Marcy sketched one of the rare specimens in the hidden garden. At first, the distracted scribbling had put Olivia off, but the steady stream of questions about Olivia's story had assured her the girl was simply very adept at splitting her attention. They had found themselves in the indoor garden that housed some of the castle's more dangerous specimens. Humidifiers and a glass ceiling kept the plants healthy inside the walls of the castle.

"Yikes, what did you do?"

"Well, fortunately I found a bit of bone root growing on a cadaver near the clearing." It was the key ingredient of a poultice that her family had discovered centuries ago, as part of an effort to bring some medical knowledge to the people on the frontiers – a book of herbalism that the common folk could use if they lived too far away to make a trip to the capital. From what Olivia understood, many of the frogs stubbornly clung to their folk medicine and the effort was abandoned. Olivia had studied the book in her youth when she had first gotten into gardening. "I was able to create a paste to seal the wound by mixing it with ground-"

"Thimble weed?" Marcy guessed, looking up from her journal with expectant eyes.

Olivia stumbled in her explanation, surprised. "Needle weed, actually, a variant more common in the north," Olivia explained. She once again found herself reassessing the girl in front of her. "Have you read The Herbalist's Guide to Medicine ?"

"Yes! But that's not where I learned that. Those two ingredients have an alchemical reaction." Marcy ceased her scribbling and flipped to an earlier part of her journal. It was messy, stained in places, and covered in passionately scrawled notes, but Olivia could make out what appeared to be a recipe of some kind. A series of doodles of Marcy were at the bottom. The first was covered in cuts and scrapes, and held up a shining vial. The second one was drinking from the vial. The third little Marcy was holding up two fingers in a 'v' shape, all injuries gone from her body. In the margins Olivia saw the words 'IRL HP POTION!' scrawled. Marcy tapped a line on the page. "Bone root and thimbleweed are important parts of a healing potion my friend Maddie and I created."

"Ah yes, the dark arts." Olivia nodded. She’d had a passing interest in her youth, reading about witches and their brews late into the night in the castle library. It was a childish fancy she had set aside long ago, which made it all the more surreal to be talking to a practitioner in the flesh.

Marcy's eyes seemed to catch on something and she rushed over to a new plant in the garden, Olivia trailing behind. Marcy had stumbled upon a wilted, red-leafed vegetable. "Aw, what's wrong with this little guy?"

After nearly poisoning herself twice on some of the plants in the hidden garden, Marcy had finally learned not to touch things directly. She opted to instead lift some of the wilted leaves with her strange quill.

"That is a fool's cabbage. Looks like it's not faring any better this week," Olivia said with a sigh. It wasn't the most impressive of plants in the royal gardens, but it did hold a special place in her heart. "It actually played an important role in the story I was just telling."

"Want me to try and help it out?" Marcy offered, already digging into her bag.

Olivia's first instinct was to decline. The plant had been seen to by some of the greatest gardeners Newtopia had to offer, and more over Lady Marcy was a guest and not responsible for such matters. However, Olivia was quickly learning not to underestimate the girl. "What did you have in mind?"

Marcy pulled out a small metal tin filled with what appeared to be some kind of moisturizing cream. Olivia watched as she took a two finger scoop of the stuff and rubbed it between her palms. Then her eyes started to glow. She held her palms out to the little poisonous plant and its wilted leaves started to lift, becoming crisp and healthy once more. The motion was accompanied by a series of cracking sounds as the rinds grew firm under her mystic ministrations. Little beads of sweat dotted the girl’s brow, but in less than a minute she was finished, wiping them away.

"Alright! That should keep it for a while. It says that the soil is a little too acidic around it."

"It... says?" Olivia asked skeptically.

"Yeah! This balm is made from a special moss we found on the way here," Marcy explained casually. "It kind of... connects you to plants. They don't talk like we do," Marcy explained, gesturing between the two of them, "but they can kind of... share ideas, concepts, instincts."

Olivia nodded hesitantly, doing her best to keep up with the sparse explanation. "You are a remarkable young woman, Lady Marcy."

Marcy beamed at the compliment, then returned her attention to the fool's cabbage. "Wow, this thing is super poisonous, isn't it?" Marcy started to scribble in her journal again. "How did it factor into your story?"

Olivia chuckled in sympathy for her younger self. "Well, after we escaped the ambush, we had to forage for food and, well... Yunan tried to eat one..."

Olivia paced anxiously around the little clearing they were sheltering in. If her mother could see her now, she would be horrified – Olivia was covered in dirt and mud after three days of trekking through the wilderness. Her normally elegantly-coiffed hair was pulled back into a tight bun, and she’d torn off the bottom few inches of her dress to serve as makeshift bandages for the soldier who had rescued her. To put it shortly, she was in a state.

“Alright, we’re going to have to forage for food, your trail rations won’t last us the entire trip back to Newtopia,” Olivia said. “What skills do you have… that can…” she trailed off as she watched her rescuer pluck a head of fool’s cabbage off the ground and move to take a bite out of it. Olivia quickly reached up and slapped it out of her hand. “What are you doing?!”

The soldier, a tall, dark pink newt with short cropped blonde hair, frowned down at her. "You said we had to forage. I was foraging."

Olivia sighed and picked up the cabbage. "Look here. Do you see these black veins running throughout the head?" Olivia traced a finger along one of the veins that spider-webbed up the leaves from the core. The soldier leaned in to take a closer look and then nodded. "Those are pockets filled with a particularly toxic substance. Once you digest the leaves, that substance works its way to your bloodstream and prevents your blood from refreshing itself." At the soldier’s blank expression, Olivia took a slow breath. "You will be unable to breathe." An oversimplification, but accurate enough. "When properly prepared, it can serve as a deadly tool for hunters... I'll prepare some. There are creatures wandering these hills I wouldn't want to have to fight..." Olivia noticed the soldier looking at her in shock. "What?"

"I... you seem quite knowledgeable about these things, my lady."

"I am the royal botanist. It is my job to know these things, Private... Private..." Olivia blinked. Things had been hectic, but this was quite the misstep in manners. Having gone on this long without introductions was beyond reason. "I'm sorry, I don't believe we've been formally introduced," she said apologetically. Olivia started to introduce herself, but was beaten to the punch.

The soldier, despite her injury, snapped into a formal salute. Her voice boomed proudly. "I am Private Yunan Longclaw!" She gestured broadly out around them. "Top of my class at the military academy!" She splayed her fingers out before clenching them into a fist. "Undefeated soldier of the Newtopian army!" She took a knee, fist once again crossed over shoulder. "Your escort and guardian until we return to the shining city of the sea!"

Olivia took a moment to recover from the sheer power behind Yunan's voice. There was something about her bold declaration that Olivia found charming, a far cry from the quiet formal introductions that she was often subjected to during her time in the royal court. She was no stranger to excessive pride, but there was an... earnestness to Yunan's words that was refreshing.

Olivia took a hold of her tattered, mud-stained skirts to curtsy. "I am Lady Olivia Caster," Olivia said simply. "Yunan, if we are to get through this ordeal intact, we are going to need to trust and rely on each other," Olivia advised. I will rely on you to keep us safe from bodily harm, and you- ” she paused briefly to slap a poisonous purplecap out of Yunan’s hand, “-will trust me to handle the foraging.” She fixed Yunan with a stern glare and waited for her to nod in acceptance. Olivia slipped her fine cloak from her shoulders and folded it into a makeshift sack. "Hold onto this, I'll do the picking."

"Of course, my lady."

The two of them walked side by side in companionable silence as Olivia plucked mushrooms, nuts, and wild onions from the dirt and soil. Yunan directed her attention outwards, surveying their surroundings for monsters or bandits that might try to ambush them.

As Olivia worked, something occurred in the far off corner of her mind. "Hold on a moment, Private. How long ago has it been since you graduated from the academy?"

"About two weeks, Lady Olivia."

"... so when you said that you were undefeated, were you referring solely to that one battle back on the road?"

"I bested my opponent in that battle and rescued you, robbing the enemy of their prize," Yunan reasoned with a razor sharp grin. "I would call that a victory, and thus, I am undefeated."

Olivia tilted her head incredulously as she dropped a handful of edible berries into the improvised sack. "Then I suppose I am the undefeated lady of House Caster."

"It is an honor to escort someone so accomplished," Yunan said with a wry smile.

Olivia snorted in amusem*nt, then quickly covered her mouth, schooling herself. Her nannies had often scolded her for her undignified laugh, saying it was unbefitting of House Caster, and not to be let out in mixed company. As she added a trio of edible mushrooms into the cloak-sack, she glanced up to gauge Yunan’s reaction. She wore a soft smirk, but it held no trace of mockery. There was no snide judgment at Olivia's slip, only a genuine sense of comradery... with perhaps a tad too much pride at the success of her quip mixed in.

Suddenly Yunan's expression sharpened as she glanced warily at their surroundings. "Get behind me, Lady Olivia..." Yunan’s voice was uncharacteristically quiet as she rested a hand on the hilt of her sword.

"What is it? I don't hear any-"

“Shh…” Yunan interrupted. Olivia strained her ears, but all she could detect was the distant chirping and ever-present buzz of insects. Then, just as she was about to insist that Yunan explain herself, Olivia felt the ground dip slightly beneath her. “Below us!” Yunan wrapped an arm around her waist and hauled them both up into the branches of a tree.

Olivia didn’t even have time to compose a protest before she saw a wooly worm emerge from the ground where they’d been standing moments before. It was half again wider than Olivia was tall, and had a thick layer of fur insulating its body. A circular maw filled with churning, razor-sharp teeth snapped in their wake.

Yunan carefully helped Olivia onto a high, sturdy branch. “I will be back in a moment, my lady.”

Olivia felt her heart jump into her throat as Yunan casually hopped away from the safety of the tree, drawing her sword as she fell. She landed in a graceful roll, dipped out of the path of the worm as it flailed in her direction, and lashed out with her blade, slicing the beast in half. Olivia gaped down at her, for once at a total loss for words.

Yunan looked back up at her with a co*cky grin. “I may not be good at identifying mushrooms and whatnot, but I know that this …” she grabbed a tuft of the creature’s fur to hoist it off the ground, “...is edible.”

Her boasting was cut short by a crackle of thunder that heralded an oncoming storm.

"Thank you kindly for your hospitality," Olivia said again to the mud-caked frog farmer.

Despite Yunan's reservations, Olivia had insisted they find proper shelter to wait out the storm. The mountain passes in this region were prone to mudslides during heavy rains. They had found a humble hillfruit orchard run by a small family of frogs. They had claimed to be wayward travelers on their way to Newtopia.

"Think nothing of it. That worm meat you shared with us will be a welcome addition to our meals tomorrow. Sorry we can't do much more for you and your companion back there," he said modestly. "Let us know if Lenore gives you any trouble." He nodded back to the stagasaur beetle in the back of the barn. It chittered at the sound of its name before settling into its stall.

“Understood. Goodnight, good farmer,” Olivia replied. He tipped his straw hat to her and then turned to brave the rain once more.

Olivia rejoined Yunan at the small fire pit they’d lit in the center of the barn. Smoke wafted up through a crude chimney overhead, and the smell of roasting meat and vegetables filled the room as Yunan carefully turned a spit over the fire. At Olivia’s approach, she looked up with a toothy grin. “Here you are, the fruits of our labor.” She held out a kebab, skewered with wild mushroom and onion alongside meat from the wooly worm. “Sorry if it isn’t up to your standards. Haven’t really roughed it like this since I was a little eft.”

Olivia stared at the kebab, unsure how to approach it. "Well, as my grandfather used to tell me, 'One can't be picky when being hunted like a game animal.'" Olivia watched as Yunan bit down on one segment of her kebab and then pulled it free. Olivia mimicked her and pulled a bite of mushroom and worm meat. It wasn't going to be the new culinary craze in Newtopia, but after a day of walking it tasted delicious.

"The old Lord Caster said that?" Yunan said, clearly surprised; she wouldn't be the first.

"For a gentleman of his stature, Grandfather had a number of... concerning idioms to share.” Olivia remembered gathering around with her older siblings to listen to their venerable grandfather’s strange wisdom. "He would never explain himself either. It used to drive me wild with curiosity."

They passed the time in conversation. Yunan shared tales from her time in the academy and of her youth clambering across the rooftops of Newtopia. Then she’d asked Olivia about the foraging they had done and how to tell apart the different mushrooms from one another, not wanting to poison herself if she found herself in the wilds once more. Olivia was accustomed to noble young sirs or madams politely asking about her work in the royal gardens, but their attention inevitably wandered soon after she started talking. Yunan, by contrast, was incredibly attentive, and maintained a razor-sharp focus on Olivia’s words. It was exhilarating, and she found herself enjoying talking about her work for the first time in a long while.

There was something strangely captivating about her companion. Olivia reasoned that it must be admiration for her fighting prowess. As Yunan laid out a pair of bedrolls the farmer had lent them, Olivia steeled her resolve and approached her with a request.

"You want to learn to fight?" Yunan asked as she fed another log into the little campfire.

"To defend myself, yes." Olivia nodded demurely. Such skills could come in handy on their current trek back to Newtopia. Yunan's face soured, and Olivia braced herself for rejection. Apparently, even out in the wild and on the run for her life, there were things that it wasn’t appropriate for a lady to learn.

Yunan quickly rose to her feet. "I assure you, even with my injury, I am fully capable of protecting you, my lady."

Ah, Olivia had touched on her pride. "I have no doubt about that, Private Longclaw. However, I think I would feel a good deal less anxious if I had at least a basic understanding of how to defend myself."

Yunan studied Olivia appraisingly. "It won't be easy," she warned. Olivia maintained her determined countenance, and after a moment Yunan nodded. She pulled a knife out of the sheath on her boot and offered it to Olivia. "We don't have time for proper training, but I’ll see what I can do." She led Olivia to an open space in the barn and started to instruct her.

Yunan hadn’t spoken in jest. By the flickering light of their campfire she drilled Olivia in proper knife fighting forms and techniques. It didn't seem complicated technically, but the repetition was exhausting and Yunan kept finding flaws in her attempts.

"No, you need to keep your guard up," Yunan criticized.

Olivia’s shoulders slumped. "I'm doing it the way you showed me."

Yunan shook her head. "No, your footing is all wrong and-" Olivia groaned in frustration and Yunan sighed. "Perhaps we should take a break for the night," she suggested.

"No- no." Olivia took a steadying breath. "Sorry. Just. A little more. I want to get this right..."

Yunan nodded. "Alright. Viper position, once more."

Olivia reversed her grip on the knife and held it up like Yunan had shown her. She could immediately tell by the frustration in Yunan's expression that Olivia had once again done something wrong.

"That's- here." Yunan stepped behind Olivia, her long arms mirroring Olivia's posture from behind. She used one of her feet to nudge Olivia's foot back. "You’re standing too stiffly. This gives your knees some bend and will make you a lot more stable." Olivia's breath caught as Yunan gently grasped her wrist, lifting it up and twisting so the blade was held more evenly. "See? With the blade like this, you have a better angle to strike out." Yunan guided Olivia through a few slashes in slow motion; Olivia desperately tried to focus on the lesson and ignore the sensation of Yunan’s body pressed against her back. "See how this gives you options?"

"Mmhmm…" Olivia managed to strangle out with some difficulty, as her heart pounded in her chest.

Yunan stiffened at her tone and carefully extracted herself to return to her former position. "A-alright, now," her voice faltered for a moment before regaining its confidence, "Try a throat slash. Move slowly and return to this position."

Olivia did as she was asked, slowly acting out the strike and then returning to her stance.

Yunan nodded, pleased. "Yes, perfect! Now try a jab, but don’t neglect your guard.”

Olivia did as she was asked. She jabbed quickly at an imaginary foe and then returned to the position. Not quite… She lowered her wrist slightly, angling the blade to intercept a potential counterattack.

"There you go! Do you understand now?" Yunan asked. Her toothy maw widened into a grin.

Olivia looked at this young soldier in the dying campfire light. They'd only had a short time but she couldn't help smiling back at this confident, honorable, and oh-so-genuine newt. "Yes, I think I do."

"Awww," Lady Marcy gushed, tilting her head to the side. "That's so sweet!" She sat facing Olivia, doodling her portrait in her little journal.

Olivia chuckled in agreement, swishing a glass of fine Caecilian red in a glass. Olivia sometimes escaped to the hidden garden for some peace and quiet, and had a bottle of her favorite vintage stashed away in the hollow of a bramble tree. "She is unlike anyone I have ever met, before or since," Olivia hummed with a lovesick sigh.

"It was remarkable. Once she got the hang of it she took to knife work like a pollywog to water," Yunan bragged on Olivia's behalf. The art of self defense had been one Olivia had taken to quite fervently after their adventure up north. Yunan handed a few coppers to the flower vendor for a small bouquet of yellow daisies.

Sasha looked unimpressed. "So what I'm gathering from all this is that I have Olivia to thank for the two of us not starving in the dry swamps out east."

"Indeed," Yunan agreed. One of their many excuses to meet had been tutoring so Yunan might be better prepared for the wilds on her missions.

Sasha glanced around at the people on the street around them. "Lots of people in hats these days… new fashion trend?" she commented.

Yunan looked up from the bouquet to survey her surroundings. A good portion of the city’s citizens, perhaps one in three, walked sluggishly from place to place, hats pulled low over their eyes. "Maybe so. Could also just be hungover from the weekend." Yunan tended to ignore Newtopia’s trends; spending so much time outside of the city made keeping up with them impossible anyways.

"Huh..." Sasha looked thoughtful for a moment, but shrugged and returned her attention to Yunan as they walked. "So, how'd they find you?"

"Why do you assume they found us?"

"’Cause you seemed pretty excited to tell this story, so I doubt this ends with ‘then we got home safe and sound,’” Sasha said.

Yunan nodded, flashed a reassuring smile, and brandished her bouquet like a conductor’s wand. "Fair enough, captain. Onward, to the climax of our tale!"

Yunan blinked awake to the sound of metal banging against wood in the distance. She took stock of her surroundings; she’d fallen asleep leaning against the wall of a barn stall, with her sheathed sword resting across her lap. The rain had died down at some point in the night, with the last remnants still dripping from the roof’s edge. That was good, they’d be able to keep moving today.

The banging sound was coming from the small farmhouse belonging to the frogs that had allowed them to sleep in their barn. It was quickly joined by a gruff voice. “Hey! Open up!”

Yunan hopped to her feet and ducked into the stall where Lady Olivia was sleeping. She was curled up on a bed of straw, using her and Yunan’s cloaks as a blanket and sheet. Yunan had to fight the impulse to reach over and pluck out a loose bit of straw that had threaded itself through Olivia’s short, navy hair. "My lady..." Yunan said in an urgent whisper. "My lady, wake up." Yunan reached out and gently shook her by the shoulder.

Olivia startled awake, and reflexively wiped a line of drool away from the corner of her mouth. "Whazzat? M’awake!" she blurted, dazed and confused.

"Shh..." Yunan said, gesturing for her to listen.

"We know you're in there!" the booming voice called again.

"Gather yourself, my lady," Yunan advised in a low tone. Olivia’s eyes hardened and she nodded in understanding, then quietly started to gather herself, taking Yunan's dagger to slip onto her belt.

Satisfied, Yunan crept towards the barn door to scout out the scene. Peering outside, she saw across the twenty or so feet of open ground between the barn and the farmhouse opposite them. A trio of armed bandits were at the door, dressed in the same slapdash armor that the ambushers had been in, each with the image of a white spider painted onto their cloaks. The speaker was a toad, flanked by a newt on either side. Their little frog host finally answered the door. "Well, hello there. Little early for the tithe, innit?" he asked, dusting flour from his apron.

"We're looking for a pair of posh city newts," the toad explained.

The frog’s brow furrowed and he briefly glanced towards Yunan’s hiding place. “Two newts, you say? Lemme guess, a tall pink one and a shorter blue one?” the farmer asked keenly.

"Aye, those are the two!" the toad said proudly. "You saw them?"

Yunan snarled as she pulled back from the doorway; she knew trusting the locals was a mistake. Olivia came to stand next to her, nervously clutching her gifted knife. Yunan gestured for her to get behind her and looked around for the best place to ambush the trio when they came to the barn.

"Of course I did! Those two stole my best working beetle!" the frog exclaimed. Yunan paused in her strategizing to exchange a look with Olivia. "Technically they 'commandeered' it," the frog exaggerated the words, "but that's just a fancy word for ‘stole’ as far as I'm concerned."

"Which way did they go?" the toad demanded.

The frog gestured out towards the orchard. "That way."

The toad frowned. "Did they tell you where they were headed?"

"We weren't exactly chatting over tea and biscuits," the frog said with a shrug.

One of the newts spoke up. "Rain probably washed away a lot of the tracks..."

"If we hurry we might be able to pick up fresh ones," suggested the other. The bandits consulted a map as they debated where Yunan and Olivia might have fled to, ignoring the frog entirely.

Within minutes they had moved out towards the orchards without so much as a goodbye. Yunan risked a glance to see them following a road through the orchard, plucking hill fruit from the trees as they passed.

Once their jeering had faded into the distance, the farmer shook his head and made his way over to the barn. He pulled open the door to reveal Olivia and Yunan looking down on him, weapons drawn. He looked unimpressed, to say the least. "Y'all need to clear out of here."

In less than ten minutes, Yunan and Olivia had their things packed onto the back of the massive stag beetle. "Now, Lenore ain't the fastest girl out there, but she handles the hills around these parts like an old hand," the frog explained, patting the creature's armored carapace affectionately.

Yunan effortlessly lifted Lady Olivia up into the saddle of the old work beetle. Olivia looked back to the frog gratefully. "Yes, thank you for your aid. I... Why did you cover for us?" Yunan looked at the frog, curious to hear the answer. They hadn't shared their identity with him the night before, and he hadn't asked for anything in return.

"Well, we frogs have a saying in these parts," the farmer said, hooking his thumbs into his suspenders. "If you saw someone toads or bandits are looking for..." he pointed a finger at the two of them. "...No you didn't." He punctuated the sentence with a wink.

"I can't believe those bandits are allowed to run around intimidating anyone they see fit." Yunan shook her head as she pulled down the strap of the harness. "We need to get to the North Tower and alert them."

The frog snorted. At Olivia and Yunan's questioning looks, he elaborated. "Those toads aren't going to risk their necks fighting Ragnar. More likely than not they'll hand you over themselves."

Both of the newts blanched at the name. "Ragnar the Wretched?" Olivia asked, shocked.

The farmer nodded.

"The Bandit Witch King? That Ragnar?" Yunan clarified. Again the farmer nodded. "How long has he been here?"

"’Bout six months?" The frog answered casually.

"Why haven't you told anyone?" Yunan demanded. If they had warning of this before heading north they could have avoided all this. Or at least brought more troops.

"Who was I gonna tell? The toads that Ragnar almost certainly paid off?" The frog rolled his eyes. "Or ought I to take two weeks out of my life to scramble down south and talk to some newt official who'll brush me off ‘fore I can get ten words out?" The frog shook his head, and his voice held the weight of long experience. "We frogs know when it's time to hide in the mire. Happy to help you hide. Not about to get my family's orchard burned down for no good reason."

Yunan frowned as she listened to the frog, wanting to contradict him but not having the words. Olivia looked equally troubled.

"On that note, if y'all get captured, you stole Lenore like I told those toads. If you make it down to Stony Gulch, leave her with my cousin Pepper, she'll make sure the old girl gets back to me." The frog huffed and stepped away, satisfied that he’d said his piece. "I do wish you both safe travels, truly. Terrible thing to happen on your honeymoon."

Yunan's thoughts about the bandits and the road ahead screeched to a halt. She mentally went over the story they’d given to the old frog the night before. Olivia had told him that they were taking a holiday to some of the hot springs in the north. Alone. She supposed she could see where the misunderstanding had come from. Still, she would have to set the record straight; it wouldn't do to have any strange rumors follow Olivia back to Newtopia. "I-"

"Thank you, kind sir." Olivia interjected, gesturing for Yunan to join her in the riding saddle. Yunan did so slowly, opting to let Olivia speak for them instead. She hoisted herself into the beetle's saddle and Olivia wrapped her arms around Yunan to steady herself. It was the sensible thing to do, but in the current context it suddenly felt intimate. "We will be sure to see Lenore safely to your cousin."

"Good luck," he said with a smile and a wave.

Yunan waited for Lady Olivia to correct the man's misconception, but only got an encouraging nudge to get going, so she nodded respectfully to their host and snapped the reins to get the beetle moving south through the orchard. Yunan wondered why her charge had chosen not to correct the farmer on their relationship. Normally she would just ask, but as she felt Olivia curl into her back she suddenly found that she didn't want to.

Perhaps it was easier than trying to explain the truth. Or perhaps it was a convenient story to tell that would keep curious eyes off of them. Newlyweds would draw less attention than a scion of the second most powerful family in Newtopia and her armed guard. Whatever the reason, Yunan trusted Olivia's intuition.

They rode southward in a companionable silence, coming ever closer to returning home.

They traveled for four days, stalking south through the hilly terrain. With Lenore, they were able to make much better time than they had on foot. They traveled cautiously, doing their best to avoid drawing attention. Olivia foraged for most of their food, though they found little that was not blighted and rotting. Yunan, meanwhile, kept the wilds from making a meal of them as half-starved animals sought them out.

However, all of the routes leading south eventually funneled into the same desolate pass that they had needed to traverse on their way up. As hills gave way to mountains, tree cover became sparser and the roads narrower. If they could just make it through the pass, they would be fine. Yunan even allowed herself to hope that their pursuers had gone the wrong way entirely trying to find them. Unfortunately, fate seemed determined to prove her wrong.

They were high in the mountains when a familiar warhorn bellowed from above. Spiders skittered down the side of the cliff faces on both sides of the pass, each carrying two toads: a driver holding a shield, and a passenger armed with heavy weaponry. Yunan drew her sword and prepared to fight them off.

Lenore was a beast of burden, too slow to outrun them. Yunan waited until one of the spiders pulled up alongside them and jerked Lenore’s reins to the side;the giant stag beetle shifted its weight and slammed the spider between its own bulk and the wall of the canyon, causing it to squeal and stagger to a halt behind them.

A crossbow bolt bounced off of Lenore’s carapace, and a handaxe flew past Yunan’s head. She bit off a curse and glanced behind them; four spiders, arranged in a loose formation, were rapidly gaining ground on them. The nearest had a broad-shouldered toad wearing a bandolier of handaxes, who brandished a heavy warhammer as his mount closed in. She found herself wishing she had devoted more time to mounted combat training, but the bandolier did give her an idea.

Yunan juked her mount to the side to avoid a vicious swing from the hammer-wielding toad, then called over her shoulder. “My lady! Were you taught to ride?”

Olivia’s voice quavered as she called back. “Yes, when I was quite young. Just through the palace halls.”

“Can you take the reins while I fight?”

“...Okay!” she called back.

“Perfect!” Yunan nodded, adopting a wild grin. She had been ready to look for a safer path for Olivia’s sake, but she’d been aching for a taste of what she had felt when they’d been ambushed. “Three! Two! One! Switch!”

Yunan leapt out of the saddle onto the back of the nearest spider, trusting Olivia to seize the reins. The driver raised his shield to protect himself, which gave Yunan a perfect target to kick and send him sprawling to the ground. She ducked under the other toad’s warhammer, then surged forward, plunging her sword through his forearm and into his shoulder to pin it awkwardly in place. He screamed in agony and dropped his hammer, which gave Yunan an opening to get to her real target.

She undid the buckle holding the bandolier in place and slung it over her own shoulder, then grasped the hilt of her sword, planted a boot on the toad’s chest, and shoved him away as she pulled it free. He went tumbling off the back of the spider, quickly getting trampled by the other pursuers that were almost upon them. She launched herself back towards Lenore as the spider she’d boarded started to slow down in confusion. She barely managed to snag a ridge in the beetle’s carapace and used it to haul herself up onto its back.

Olivia glanced fearfully over her shoulder, but looked relieved when she saw Yunan, who shot her a roguish wink. Yunan climbed to her feet and wrapped her tail around a strap of the leather saddle to anchor her as she stood to her full height. There were still three spiders close on their tail. The nearest had a newt armed with a spear balancing precariously on the back, anchoring herself in much the same way Yunan was. The next closest carried a toad with a crossbow, while the rearmost seemed to have lost one of its passengers at some point; there was only a single toad riding it, wearing a bulky cloak instead of the scavenged armor typical of the rest of the bandits. Something about him unnerved Yunan, but he was the furthest away, which meant he could wait. There were five axes left in the bandolier – she’d have to make them count. She grit her teeth and drew the first one.

The spider with the spear-newt was almost close enough to begin clambering onto Lenore’s back, so Yunan flung the first axe directly at its head. It sank home with a satisfying squelch, and the creature went limp, skidding to a halt and dumping its riders onto the ground. She pulled a second axe out to look for a target and spotted a glint of metal. She dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding a crossbow bolt aimed straight for her head. She glared at the marksman, who was already loading another shot. She threw an axe and it sailed over his head. Another bolt flew past her and Olivia yelped in pain.

“My lady! Are you-”

“Just a graze!” Olivia’s voice wavered slightly as she spoke, but she still sounded determined.

Yunan turned vengefully and launched another axe. This one found its mark, splintering the crossbow into scrapwood. Two axes left. The remaining spider riders maintained a respectful distance as Yunan spun one menacingly.

“Yunan! Bridge up ahead!” Olivia called back.

Yunan glanced behind her and saw a bridge that crossed over a canyon up ahead. They had crossed in on their journey up north. Not too far beyond it, Newtopia valley awaited them. If they were lucky, some patrolling soldiers would come to their aid. As she looked at their pursuers again she saw the cloaked toad at the back raise a warhorn to their mouth, which bellowed out a deafening call. A few moments later, a massive explosion came from the bridge behind Yunan, pelting them with a shower of splintered wood and cutting off their escape route.

"Yunan!? What do we do?"

Yunan tried to think. They had been waiting there for them, and their options were limited. "Beetles can fly, right!?" She called back, genuinely unsure. She knew the smaller ones could.

"Not for long!" Olivia called back, "and certainly not with both of us on it!"

Yunan grimaced and looked for a place to bail out, hopefully giving the beetle the ability to make it to the other side with Olivia. As they approached the drop-off, the cloaked toad drew a sling from a pouch on his belt and began to spin it above his head. Yunan threw her second-to-last axe at him. It flew true, but at the last second he and his mount ducked low to the ground in perfect synchronization, causing the axe to sail uselessly over his head. He quickly recovered and loosed the contents of his sling.

Yunan watched the projectile with confusion. A sling bullet would bounce off their steed’s armor like a seed against a stone wall. However, whatever hit Lenore’s shell exploded into a cloud of sparkling dust, and suddenly Yunan found herself plunging towards the ground as the saddle fell away from beneath her. She landed hard on her back and lost her grip on her sword, which clattered noisily over the edge of the canyon. She pushed herself to her feet and looked around desperately as the black mist dissipated.

First she saw Lenore on her back on the ground, small enough to fit in the palm of her hand and flailing her legs uselessly in the air. Then she looked toward the bridge, where she saw Olivia dangling over the edge of the cliff, her arms scrambling in a panic to try to stop her fall. Yunan dove after her. She swung out so her tail could lash out and grab Olivia's arm while her hands grabbed the side of the destroyed bridge. She grunted as she felt Olivia's weight drag her towards the edge, but managed to hold on as Olivia coiled herself around her tail. "Are you alright, my lady?"

"I’ve been better!" Olivia's voice wavered as she clung tightly to Yunan’s tail.

Yunan took a few breaths to steady herself and then hauled Olivia back up onto solid ground. They were greeted by the three remaining bandits. The cloaked toad in the center stepped forward, finally allowing Yunan to get a good look at him. His robe consisted of tattered black and red cloth, moth eaten enough to reveal rusting scale mail beneath. The thick, salt-and-pepper beard that hung from his chin was tangled and matted. His eyes... his eyes were hollow . Black and emotionless as he looked at Lenore, shrunken and flailing in his hands. He threw her into his mouth with a squelch. "Ah, lovely. You survived. I had hoped you’d be more cooperative, Lady Caster. Puppeting your corpse would be such a hassle," he said with a nasty grin. His teeth were blackened, rotten, and uneven.

Yunan climbed to her feet, put herself between Olivia and the bandits, and drew the last axe from her stolen bandolier.

The leader studied her with cold eyes. "I have to say, you’ve impressed me with your skills. Whatever the Casters are paying you to protect their daughter, I'll double it if you join me."

"You must be Ragnar," Yunan replied. The toad gave an exaggerated bow, his mount dipping forward to accentuate it. Yunan spat to the side and raised her axe. "Know this, bandit. I am Private Yunan Longclaw! Top of-"

"Private!?" Ragnar bellowed incredulously. "You aren't a mercenary? Or even one of the Night Guard?!” He laughed long and loud, his fellow bandits uncomfortably chortling alongside him. “Tell me, do you take your stipend in beans or peanuts?" He sneered. "Oh, that’s pitiful. Fighting for a throne that couldn't care less about you. Step aside, soldier. You are no knight and have no honor to uphold."

Rage burned in Yunan’s gut and she replied in a low growl. "I am Private Yunan Lacus Longclaw. Protector of Lady Olivia of House Caster. And I will put you in the ground, you vile creature."

The bandit lord's laughter died down as he again considered Yunan. "Oh. You're serious." He nodded. "A duel then? For the lady's freedom?" Ragnar offered.

Yunan looked around as the bandits’ ranks swelled with reinforcements. "Yes. If I win, Lady Olivia goes free."

"Sure, sure. Come on, let’s get some proper space." Ragnar leaned back and his spider backed into the pass they had just exited.

Yunan squared her shoulders and started to follow, but a hand on her wrist stopped her. Yunan turned back to find Olivia wearing a fearful expression. "Private, stand down. My family will pay the ransom," Olivia insisted.

Yunan took Olivia’s hand gently in her own and knelt down to speak quietly enough that the bandits wouldn’t overhear. "My lady, do you truly believe that?" The flicker of doubt in Olivia's eyes was all the answer she needed.

Ragnar would not ask for a reasonable sum; he would ask for a fortune worth the risk of angering House Caster. The high houses of the kingdom did not achieve their position by casting aside their fortune to duplicitous bandits. Olivia was not the family head or even the immediate heir; she was fourth in line to inherit. They would weigh her life against the scales, they would mourn her, and then Olivia would die.

When she thought about it like that, it wasn’t even really a choice.

She bent slightly to kiss Olivia’s hand, then stood and started to pull away, but Olivia held fast. Yunan looked at her questioningly, and Olivia held out the knife Yunan had gifted her, fixing her with a meaningful look as she spoke. “I expect you to return this to me, Private Longclaw.”

Yunan nodded, took the knife in her off-hand, and spun it into a comfortable reverse grip. She gave a toothy grin. “I will be back shortly, my lady.”

Olivia nodded and stepped back, one shaking hand holding the other to conceal her worry.

Yunan strode forward as the two other spider riders came to flank Olivia as insurance. Yunan approached Ragnar, who still sat astride his mount. "You’re going to remain mounted? Are you that afraid to fight a ‘lowly’ private?"

The bandit laughed at Yunan again and shook his head. “You know, I must thank you for this opportunity…” He straightened up, causing the tattered edge of his robe to lift enough to reveal that he wasn’t sitting on a mount – he was one with it. The toad’s mottled flesh ended at the waist, where it meshed grotesquely into the spider’s abdomen. "...I do enjoy playing with my food." He drew a massive, chipped battleaxe from a holster on his back and rolled his neck in a slow circle. Bright green venom began to drip from his spider mouth as it chittered hungrily.

Yunan was, for perhaps the first time in her life, speechless. This was not even remotely covered in basic training.

Ragnar reared up on his back four legs to loom over Yunan, then brought his axe down like a guillotine. Yunan regained her senses just in time to jump back and avoid the curved axe blade striking the earth with a crack of stone. Her opponent wrenched it out of the ground and charged forward, fuzzy fangs striking out at her. Yunan lashed out with her axe and was rewarded with a spray of blue blood. Both of Ragnar’s mouths screeched as he scuttled backwards. Yunan tried to close the distance to bring both of her weapons to bear, but Ragnar took a wide defensive swing to force her back again.

They continued their dance and Yunan narrowly avoided one death blow after another. Every time she tried to attack something vital on one of Ragnar's bodies, the other would intervene. They worked in perfect concert, and it was taking every ounce of her energy just to stay alive. She couldn’t risk throwing either of her weapons; if it was anything less than perfectly aimed, she would lose her only chance. She couldn’t fight him like a traditional opponent; she needed a new angle.

After a particularly brutal barrage of attacks, Yunan found herself cornered against the rock wall of the canyon the road had been cut through. She glanced behind herself and made a decision. She tucked her knife into her bandolier, clenched her handaxe in her teeth, and turned to clamber up the side of the wall. Below, she heard the thud of the axe narrowly miss the tip of her tail.

"Oh, it is far too late to get away, you gnat!" Ragnar heaved his axe from the rock face, and his spider legs climbed up the wall to give chase.

Yunan grabbed the axe from her mouth. “Wasn’t planning on it!” she retorted. Having secured the high ground for the first time in the duel, she hurled her axe at his head, drew her knife from its sheath, and kicked off the wall to plummet towards her foe.

The toad hastily batted the projectile to the side, which finally gave Yunan the opening she’d been looking for. She clasped the hilt of her dagger with one hand and braced the pommel with the other, aiming to drive the blade through Ragnar’s head. He dropped his axe to shield his face just as Yunan collided with him, taking the knife through his forearm in the process. Sickly blue blood oozed from the wound, but he just smirked at her. “Close, little mosquito, but no cigar.”

Yunan grit her teeth and pulled the knife free to take another stab, but Ragnar's other hand surged forward, grabbed her by the throat, and threw her to the road below. She landed with a wheeze of pain, but managed to roll out of the way as Ragnar’s bulk slammed into the ground she’d occupied only moments before. Yunan staggered to her feet and assessed the warlock. Ragnar was holding his injured arm aloft. From beneath his robes, hundreds of tiny spiders swarmed up and over his arm, congregating around the wound. In a matter of moments, a thick wad of spider silk had wrapped the wound, with only the faint stain of blue blood giving any indication that it was injured at all.

“A clever trick, little fly, but now it’s time for you to die.” Ragnar bent to pick his battleaxe up off the ground, and cackled as he started towards Yunan, but his manic laughter was interrupted by a harsh coughing fit, and he stumbled for half a step before managing to steady himself. Yunan finally allowed herself a smirk of her own. This monster may be a legendary bandit lord, but he’d been terrorizing the kingdom for over half a century, and it seemed his age was finally catching up with him.

Their duel continued; Yunan found her second wind as Ragnar’s swings grew slower and clumsier. His breathing grew increasingly labored. “Would you… Ugh! Hold still! ” He slammed his battleaxe into the dirt again, but when he struggled to pull it free, Yunan saw her chance. She darted forward, slashing a quick line down the length of his arm and then circling around to one side.

Spider legs kicked out hastily in her direction, but they, too, were getting sluggish. She ducked under one, sidestepped another, and used a third for leverage to clamber onto Ragnar’s back. He shook violently from side to side to shake her off, but Yunan dug her knife into the spider’s hide as a handhold. Another coughing fit interrupted his movements, and as he staggered forward, she pulled the knife free and sprung forward, blade first, to-

“I, uh… I get the picture, Yunan. I’ve seen you work,” Sasha interrupted. Yunan smirked and briefly extended her Longclaw gauntlets. Sasha sucked in a breath. Yunan could be overly enthusiastic sometimes. “So what about the other bandits?”

"Scattered once I brought down their leader." Yunan shrugged. "One look from me and they scampered away quicker than I could get my hands on them. Once everything was settled, we continued south. It took forever to navigate the chasm, but we managed it eventually. We returned to Newtopia, where I received my first promotion.”

Sasha nodded thoughtfully. “So, did you ever tell that farmer what happened to his beetle?” she asked with a smirk.

The triumphant energy that had propelled Yunan through the end of her story dimmed as she shook her head. “No. When I marched back north with the army to clean out the remnants of Ragnar’s forces, his orchard was blighted and his home abandoned.”

“Was he…”

“Don’t know. I didn’t find anything. Maybe he got away. Olivia hired some people to look for him, but it's hard to search for someone whose name you never bothered to learn…” An unfamiliar look of shame crossed over Yunan’s face.

Alright, sore subject. Switching gears. “So, what happened with Olivia?”

"Hm?" Yunan hummed in response, startled from her reminiscence.

"You killed Ragnar, saved Lady Olivia and you two didn't..." Sasha paused for Yunan to finish the thought. When she didn’t, Sasha did it for her. "...’interact’ at all?"

"Well, not that it's any of your business, but the night before we departed Stony Gulch... Lady Olivia did favor me with a kiss."

Olivia stared up at the ceiling of the well-appointed room that the mayor of Stony Gulch had set aside for her. Soft cotton sheets, quaint by the standards of the Royal Palace, were still a major step up from the dirt she had grown accustomed to sleeping on over the past week of her life. She should be comfortable, but she wasn’t.

Soon, she would be back in Newtopia, sealed away behind a thousand layers of formality. She'd have to meet and talk to a hundred different people wearing the same identical smiles. She would be expected to say the right things to the right people. She would do it, of course. She would even be good at it. A rote life of rote procedure, perhaps with the occasional opportunity to choose what to plant in the palace gardens or what book to read.

Olivia took a deep breath and slid out from under the sheets. She walked across the plush carpeted floor to the door that opened into the hallway, intending to knock on the door next to hers. However, she found what she was looking for as soon as she opened the door. Yunan leaned against the wall next to her door, half-dozing as she stood guard.

Olivia smiled softly at her erstwhile companion and rapped gently on the door frame to fully wake her. Yunan abruptly straightened to stand at attention, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she turned to face Olivia. "My lady, are you alright? Do you need anything?"

"Private Yunan, what are you doing? The town guard can handle things tonight."

"I want you to feel safe, my lady. Until we are back in the city, it is my duty to defend you." Yunan crossed her hand over her chest and gave a slight bow. "I'm not about to fail you here at the last step."

Olivia hummed at the explanation. "I see..." Olivia held an upturned hand out to Yunan and looked at her expectantly. Yunan looked confused, but after a moment placed her hand in Olivia’s. Olivia did not bend to kiss it, but instead looked down as she ran her thumb gently over the calluses on Yunan’s palm. She took a deep breath to steady her accelerating heartbeat and banish the killamoths fluttering in her stomach before she spoke again. "I do feel safer with you out here..." she gave Yunan’s hand a gentle squeeze, "...but I think I would feel safer if you were inside... with me."

Olivia hesitantly glanced up to gauge the soldier's reaction, and was met with utter shock. Her heart sank, but Olivia wasn't surprised. They had met each other all of a week ago. What had she been thinking? As the silence stretched on, the cracks in her half-baked idea became more and more clear. She was still technically Yunan’s superior, no matter how informal they had become over the past week. The difference in their stations meant there was far too much pressure for Yunan to go along with her, no matter how she felt about it. Olivia felt ill at that possibility.

She let go of Yunan's hand as her remaining confidence dissolved completely. "I... I am sorry, I don’t know what came over me," Olivia said, intending to retreat into her room and quietly die of mortification. "I will see you in the morning." However, Yunan caught her wrist before she could get through the doorway.

Olivia looked up to find Yunan's face had changed again; the shock was gone, replaced by an intense smolder of desire that caused Olivia's heart rate to skyrocket. "Olivia. Are you… certain that you want that?"

Olivia did not trust her own voice, but nodded emphatically.

Yunan's hand ghosted along Olivia's arm and came to rest in the small of her back. She walked Olivia back into the room and grabbed the door to close it behind them. Then...

"and then... and then..." Olivia blinked, suddenly remembering that she was not here alone. She looked back up at Lady Marcy, whose face had gone beet red as she stared uncomfortably down at her lap, knuckles tapping anxiously on her knees. A feeling of mortification swept over Olivia as she set aside her fourth and final glass of wine. "...and then she kissed me and we cuddled together through the night," she finished quickly.

Lady Marcy looked like she was torn between relief and disappointment. "W-Wow..." she said finally. "Well, for a meet-cute, that was really intense. I mean, an ambush, a high speed chase, a boss fight with a drider-toad..."

Olivia mouthed out 'drider' to herself. Yunan had been right; human vocabulary really was just littered with strange slang.

"I mean. Just. Wow!" Marcy said, clearly still recovering from her embarrassment. She flipped to a new page in her journal. "Did Yunan know?"

Olivia tilted her head curiously. "Know what?"

"That you had poisoned the knife," Marcy asked casually.

Olivia sat up straighter at the words. "...What makes you think that?" she asked shrewdly.

"Well, from the way you described it, the fight really turned when Yunan managed to stab Ragnar with the knife." Marcy pantomimed one hand stabbing the opposite forearm. “And if it was poison, the symptoms sounded an awful lot like… well…” she snapped her fingers and pointed at the fool's cabbage.

"You arrived at that conclusion pretty quick," Olivia said.

"It’s what I would have done." Marcy shrugged. At Olivia’s stare, She self-consciously rubbed the back of her head "...Am I wrong?"

Olivia scrutinized her for an ulterior motive. She couldn't sense anything, but it was hard to be sure through the three and a half glasses of wine. "No... no, you're quite right," she confirmed with the relief of a long held secret shared with someone who understood. "I may not have been much help directly, but I wasn't about to let her fight alone." Marcy smiled and nodded in agreement. "But to answer your original question, no. Yunan didn't find out. I'd like it to stay that way."

"Got it." Marcy looked contemplative for a moment before she brightened. "Still... wild that you’ve spent so many years together. Did you two get married?" Olivia’s face fell at the question and Marcy’s quickly followed.

Sasha furrowed her brow in confusion. "Wait, have I been misreading this? Are you two together or not?”

Yunan took a pensive breath as they paced down a long, gravel path interspersed with trees and flanked by stone columns. "No, you were right."

"So what happened?"

Yunan abruptly stopped and turned to look at one of the columns. For the first time since entering this odd place, Sasha looked around and realized where they were. Dozens of stone drawers no bigger than her open hand covered the walls. Each had a small metal placard with a name and pair of numbers and she felt a pall fall over their conversation.

Sasha had never been to a graveyard before, but she had always imagined them as they appeared in movies – open fields with neatly ordered lines of solemn gravestones, not cramped filing cabinets filled with ashes. Considering the down-and-out neighborhood they’d traveled through to get here and the poorly-maintained graves overgrown with wild coral, this didn’t feel like a place the stuffy nobles from the palace would choose for their final rest.

Yunan crouched down to focus on a pair of plaques at about knee height.

The only thing that distinguished them from the surrounding markers were the names engraved on them - 'Otto Longclaw' and 'Nia Longclaw.’

Yunan slipped the bouquet of daisies she had bought into a metal ring that had been hammered between the two boxes. "We came back here, to Newtopia. To reality. Where she was still Lady Caster, fourth in line to the second most powerful house in all of Amphibia, and I was still the unlanded daughter of a disgraced knight."

"But why would that matter?" Marcy asked with a frown. "If you care about each other..."

"Nobles don't have the luxury of choosing our spouses, I'm afraid." Olivia corked the bottle of wine and set it aside. "We can only marry someone of whom the head of the family approves," she reported bitterly. "An outdated law to avoid petty infighting."

Marcy’s expression soured further. "That's horrible! Couldn’t it be repealed? Couldn't Andrias...?"

Olivia shook her head. "Not his call. Any change to the laws governing nobles must be voted on by the heads of houses." Oliva rolled her eyes. "As you might imagine, they are… reluctant to give up that kind of control."

"So you have to marry anyone your head of house says to?"

"No, thank newt," Olivia said, waving her hand. "They can try, and they have, but I've always refused." Arranged marriages had been struck from the books among the nobility after a concerning pattern of family heads dying shortly after particularly egregious marriage announcements. "But they wouldn't approve of Yunan, and if I wanted to defy them I would have to abandon the name of Caster."

"And she wouldn't?" Sasha asked critically, though she’d softened her voice considerably after realizing where they were.

"I wouldn't ask her to," Yunan said seriously as she stood up and turned toward the cemetary’s exit. "Olivia has trained most of her life for her position. The other nobles wouldn't suffer having a commoner as the King's head advisor, even if she is the best suited." Or so Olivia had explained to her. Politics had never been Yunan's strength; they frustrated her at the best of times.

"If I abandon my family name to be with her, my family would be humiliated. They would do everything in their power to destroy her." They'd already tried back when Yunan had asked for her hand after reaching the rank of general. Olivia had narrowly managed to quash their attempt due to her position in the court.

"Isn't Yunan like... a hero to people here in Newtopia?" Marcy asked. "Is that not enough to gain their approval?"

"...It probably would have been enough for Mother when she was head of the house." Olivia liked to imagine so, anyways. "Unfortunately, she passed before Yunan had earned those accolades." She shook her head. "My eldest brother, on the other hand... he cares only for prestige and bloodlines. It doesn't matter to him what she's accomplished; as far as he’s concerned, she's nothing more than a commoner”

Insufferable jackass. It was another reason she couldn't abandon her post. If he replaced her, he would no doubt abandon the work she had done to help people on the frontiers.

“Oh!” Marcy said. “It didn’t have anything to do with you two being women?”

Olivia mulled over the question before shrugging. “It probably didn’t help. We wouldn’t be able to ‘produce an heir’. ” She said the phrase with annoyance. “We would adopt and bring more ‘common blood’ into the family.” Considering their standing with Andrias, an adopted heir would almost certainly be legitimized, and Olivia could think of nothing that would turn her brother more fiercely against her.

"So why hasn't Andrias given you a title already? You've done more to deserve one than most of the nobles I’ve met.”

"He has knighted me, and given me honors, but that counts for little among the nobles of the court – they care far more about land and pedigree than valor in battle.”

"Then he should give you some land." Sasha said it like it was the easiest thing in the world. "You've certainly saved enough of it. Hell, it's only been a few months, and I've saved enough of it to be a duch*ess or whatever."

Yunan smiled; it was unusual to have her protégé angry on her behalf. "There have been no new lands to divvy out in over a thousand years. Titles don't exactly open up every day."

"So, what? You two are just stuck?" Sasha said.

Yunan let out a frustrated sigh and gave a stiff nod as they passed through the graveyard’s gates. "Until some family gets their nobility revoked or dies out."

"That is some bullsh*t," Sasha said sourly.

Yunan shrugged. "It is what it is."

"Bullsh*t," Sasha reiterated.

Yunan snickered. "But there you have it. That is why I cannot simply 'ask her out,' as you suggest."

Sasha pouted for a moment, then glanced back towards the cemetery. "Sorry about your parents..."

"Thank you for saying so, but it's been a few years. I’m at peace with it," Yunan said with a shrug.

"... Can I ask what your dad did to be 'disgraced' or whatever?" Sasha’s tone shifted as she spoke. Yunan recognized it; she was looking for a loophole. "Can we do anything about that ?"

"Cowardice," Yunan said with some frustration. "He abandoned his post."

"... Wait. So when you came looking for me instead of chasing down the Plantars..."

Yunan nodded solemnly. She hadn't been reprimanded for the decision, but she couldn't help but think it was part of the reason she'd been kept in Newtopia to cool her heels. She'd only been assigned one mission since their return, and it had been for right outside the city.

"...Dammit." Sasha said under her breath.

Yunan patted Sasha on the back. "Don't worry about it, captain. It was my call. If it happened again, I’d do the same thing,” she said honestly. "Come on, I have a meeting back in the palace tonight."

"I explained all this to her after she failed to get my brother's approval," Olivia said with a sigh. "Offered her the chance to give up, move on. Find someone less complicated to court."

Marcy nodded attentively in quiet sympathy.

"Instead she asked if I was willing to wait for her." Olivia huffed a sad, lovesick laugh. That side of Yunan had always worried her; it was part of who she was, but she wished the woman would better take her own safety into account. "Loyal to a fault..." she mused softly. "Of course I said I was. That was... almost seven years ago now." Seven years of hiding their feelings from prying eyes and ears. "But no. Officially, we are not together, to answer your original question."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring up something so upsetting."

"It is what it is," Olivia intoned. "If anything, I'm sorry to have unloaded all of this on you, Lady Marcy. I think I've been holding that in for some time. It's not often I get to be this open with others." Olivia blinked, suddenly realizing that she may have been too open. "I would appreciate your... discretion about this. If anyone were to find out-"

Marcy held her hands up to stop Olivia. "Your secrets are safe with me," she said sincerely. "I really hope something changes. It would be nice if you two could be together."

Olivia smiled at the sentiment and nodded. "Thank you, Lady Marcy." Olivia considered the girl in front of her and her contemplative expression. The sympathy and investment she'd shown as Olivia had shared her bittersweet tale. "Is there something on your mind?”

"Huh?" Marcy seemed to be shaken out of her thoughts. "Oh, uh, no. Why?"

"I simply wanted to return the favor," Olivia said, trying to avoid putting any pressure on the girl. "If this conversation has shown me anything, it's that sometimes it is easier to talk to someone who isn't involved. You look a touch… forlorn,” she finished with a curious tilt of her head.

Marcy tapped at her knee and bit her lip, then nodded to herself. "I guess I was a little jealous?"

Olivia squinted, suddenly wondering how closely the girl had actually been listening.

Marcy was quick to add, "Don't get me wrong, all the politics sounds like a nightmare, I just..." Marcy's face fell as she searched for the words, "...You know that me and Sasha came to this world with a third friend? Anne?"

Olivia nodded. Sasha had given an exceedingly thorough description of both Marcy and Anne before leaving Newtopia the first time. Olivia had been able to identify Marcy on sight when she had burst into the throne room a couple weeks ago.

"She was my oldest friend before all this, and after I arrived here, I realized I liked her as more than a friend," Marcy said with a wan smile. "We both ended up in the valley and... it turned out she felt the same way!" she said, voice incredulous. "Only… I messed up and really really hurt her, and… now I'm pretty sure she hates me?" Marcy’s gaze remained fixed on the floor as she spoke. "I just think the way you two are so dedicated to each other is really sweet," she finished with a shrug, looking close to tears.

Olivia felt an overwhelming surge of empathy for Marcy, in addition to a deep concern that her love life was something that the young woman could envy. "Is it something you can fix?" Olivia asked gently.

"It is. Or... I thought it was. I'm trying, I really am!" Marcy rubbed at a misty eye with her palm. "But I'm starting to worry it can't be fixed."

"... is this why you’ve spent so much time in the royal library?" Marcy nodded. "Then, take it from a fellow workaholic: you're doing all you can." The girl chuckled ruefully; Olivia had received several complaints from the librarian about Marcy's book nests in the royal library. "Whether Anne appreciates it or not will be up to her."

Marcy nodded, seeming to take some comfort in the words. "Thank you, Lady Olivia."

"It’s no trouble, truly. If there is anything I can do to help, please don't hesitate to ask," Olivia offered with a soft smile.

Marcy held up her hands and took a breath to steady herself before speaking. "Oh- No, no that's alright. I know how busy you are-"

"Please, I would be happy to." The truth was that Andrias had asked her to offer and provide Marcy with whatever resources she requested for her project. The only thing that had changed over the course of their conversation was that Olivia personally wanted to help. "It's the least I can do."

"Alright... thank you." Marcy wore a smile that was genuine, if a little watery.

"For now, though, I think there is something we could both use..." Olivia turned to retrieve the bottle she had been drinking out of... but then something scratched at the back of her head, like she had filled out most of a puzzle only to find one piece out of place. "...I'm sorry if this question seems out of place, but may I ask your age, Marcy?"

Marcy didn't seem bothered by the question and answered without hesitation. "Thirteen."

Olivia’s stomach dropped.

Oh frog, she's a child.

Olivia had gotten tipsy and dumped her baggage on a child. Olivia had not once in her life felt such a potent mixture of shame and irritation. She would have to alert Yunan that Waybright had lied to them about her age. Olivia carefully schooled her expression before she turned back to face Marcy; fortunately, she had ample practice concealing her true feelings. "Thank you for indulging my curiosity. Now then, as I was saying, I know around this time the kitchens will have some fresh sweets to soothe our heartbreak."

"That sounds great." Marcy nodded in agreement. "It'll uh, take a while to get down to the kitchens, won’t it?" Marcy asked. She flipped to a map of the castle she had apparently drawn in one of her pages.

"I know a shortcut. I'll be able to show you our rarest specimen along the way." Olivia stood up from the brick planter box and smoothed out her dress, then led Marcy to the center of the room, where a mosaic of the royal seal was built into the floor. She pressed the tip of her toe against three off-color pieces at the edge of the ring, then stepped back as it slowly transformed into a spiral staircase leading down.

"Oooh." Marcy hummed appreciatively and started taking notes, but then abruptly snapped the journal closed. "Wait. Stairs first, then drawing," she said, apparently to herself, as they headed down the stairs. Bits of bioluminescent coral that ran along the wall provided light once the entrance closed behind them.

Once they arrived at the bottom, Olivia stepped aside to allow Marcy to come in and witness a singularly rare sight.

The room was dominated by an ancient bleached-white tree, whose gnarled roots twisted through a soil floor ringed with stone. It stretched to the domed stone ceiling, where sprawling branches were replete with glowing, sky-blue petals that never wilted or fell from the branches. At first glance, the leaves resembled a window to the sky beyond, though in reality they were several floors underground.

Olivia glanced at Lady Marcy, whose eyes were wide with reverent wonder.

"This… is the centree – so named for the blossoms it bears once every hundred years." At least according to her family's notes on the plant. She couldn't find any other documentation about it.

"How does it grow down here?"

"We aren't sure, but my ancestors think it has something to do with the soil. We've tried grafting and planting it elsewhere all across Amphibia, without success," Olivia said. "Once it blooms, its petals are some of the most potent healing herbs known to Amphibia. Legend says they can cure any disease, prolong one's lifespan, and even regrow damaged organs."

"Incredible..." Marcy said, eyes alight at the possibilities. "A shame we can't grow more... if you'd like, maybe we could work on the mystery together?"

"I would welcome your insight." Humiliation aside, the girl’s age made her list of accomplishments all the more impressive. "However, perhaps it would be best to save that for another time; from what I understand, you have a lot on your plate already," Olivia said magnanimously. "For now, we have a baker to visit." Olivia led Marcy to the opposite wall, where another staircase leading down could be found. This one ascended in a slope rather than a spiral. Shortly after the path leveled out, they came to a lever which opened a hidden alcove on a lower level of the castle. The smell of midday meals being prepared hit them as they emerged and the hidden door closed behind them.

"Wow, this place has a lot of secret passages..." Marcy said with a hum of curiosity as they continued towards the bakery.

"Yes, whoever designed this place seems to have had a real passion for them. When I was a girl I made a hobby of seeking them out." Olivia went to the door of the kitchen and spoke to a servant about setting aside a few treats for them, then returned to find Marcy lost in thought. "Something on your mind, Lady Marcy?"

"...Lady Olivia, would it be okay to take you up on your offer of aid so soon?"

"You want me to be commander of Frog Valley?" Yunan asked, clearly surprised.

Andrias nodded and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "Yes. That a captain of the tower would have the gall to attack a member of the Newtopian Army so openly has shown me that we must take action. Fortunately, Miss Plantar has suggested - and already partially implemented - a novel new system. Instead of relying on a dedicated force of toads, a local militia will defend and enforce order in the valley, overseen by a modest garrison, headed…” Andrias gestured to Yunan, "...by a commander. A general from Newtopia to ensure the 'governor' keeps Newtopia's interests in mind."

"A... governor?" Yunan asked.

"Human term. A kind of elected magistrate.” Andrias waved indifferently. “Someone who has a vested interest in the valley, so they won’t abuse their power over the inhabitants," Andrias summarized. Honestly, aside from the election, it wasn't so different from how the empire used to run Amphibia. Andrias had pivoted to the four tower system once communication slowed down to a snail's pace. That had the bonus of pitting the frogs and toads against each other, but at this point, the toads were starting to cause more headaches than they were preventing.

Andrias didn't know if this little experiment would work, and he didn't really care. Best case scenario, he could credit Yunan's leadership skills for the success of the program, and the toads would be put in their place. Worst case scenario, a few frog villages get overrun by monsters and the frogs would be reminded what happens to them without Newtopia's strength.

"Thoughts, General?" Andrias prodded gently.

Yunan looked back up at him doubtfully. "I.... don't know if I'm the best newt for the job, your majesty."

"Oh?" It was rare for Yunan to object to assignments.

"My skill set is poorly suited to oversight. I'm sure I could be of better use to you elsewhere."

Ah, she thought she was being benched. "General, please; what these frogs need is training in how to hunt down the wild beasts that plague their town. I can think of no one better suited, especially considering your success with Captain Waybright," Andrias encouraged. Despite his words, Yunan still didn't look convinced. "But aside from that, General, there are two other important reasons I want you in the valley."

Yunan perked up. It was so easy to get her on the hook.

"First, I'm worried for the Plantars's safety, particularly that of Hopediah Plantar, who will serve as the first of these governors," Andrias said, feigning concern. "There is of course a chance that Grime or one of the other toad captains will attempt to do him harm or disrupt this program. Having someone capable enough to intervene in the worst case scenario is paramount," he confided seriously.

Of course it would also be good to have his most ruthless operative in place if Waybright or Marcy decided to try anything foolish and he had to ‘find some evidence they had overlooked’ to reverse his verdict on the Plantar patriarch. Really, it was the perfect little set up. Waybright would receive the implied threat loud and clear while Marcy would see it as a genuine precaution. If Waybright alerted Marcy to the threat, she would likely comply anyways. One thing their investigation and monitoring of the Plantars had made abundantly clear was how much she cared for those frogs.

It would also isolate Waybright from her strongest ally… so long as Andrias could reaffirm the general's loyalty.

"I… suppose that makes sense… Are you sure, your majesty? I still feel my skills could be best used seeking out those threats before they materialize, Grime chief among them."

Andrias frowned, then made a show of glancing around the empty throne room and beckoned for Yunan to come closer, as though he were a child preparing to share a secret. Yunan looked confused, but awkwardly shuffled over to lean in. "Listen, general, I'm trying to do you a favor here."

"A favor?"

"Yes. You see, we found something rather surprising in our investigations. The last count of Frog Valley died over eighty years ago. No relative has stepped forth to claim the title, so it has defaulted back to the crown." Yunan's eyes widened in understanding as she tried to avoid seeming overeager at his implication. "It's rare I have the chance to bestow a landed title these days, but I could think of no one more deserving than the great General Yunan."

"You would-"

"Name you Countess Longclaw of Frog Valley, yes." Andrias affected a genuine smile. Yunan was one of the sharpest tools he had cultivated in his hundreds of years of rule, and she honestly deserved the title more than half of his incompetent nobles, who inherited their titles from much more capable ancestors. "I know it is not a particularly wealthy province, but with Miss Plantar's plans that could change rapidly," Andrias reasoned. "Not to mention the count's share of eighty years of taxes is nothing to sneeze at, though..." he gave the general a knowing smile, "...if my suspicions are correct, coppers are not your primary motivation to desire such an appointment, correct?"

"Uhhhh..." Yunan's jaw hung open for a few moments, before she snapped it shut with an audible click and cleared her throat. "I… I don't know what-"

Andrias shook his head and rolled his eyes. "Yunan, please. I've worked with both you and Olivia for years now. No judgment or shame, I just wanted to assure you that whatever plans you two might make, you will have my endorsem*nt, as well as protection from anyone who might object."

Yunan's tail swished anxiously from side to side. "Even if that means crossing House Caster?"

Ah, so no plan to re-petition for Olivia's hand, but rather to have her leave and join Yunan's new house. "I hope you know I don't make this promise lightly."

Yunan seemed pleasantly surprised by the notion. "I don't, but everyone knows how you have favored them, so-"

"I have favored House Caster because their members have been consistently capable individuals," Andrias explained. "It seems clear to me that all of that talent has pooled in Lady Olivia. I assure you, it does not matter to me if my royal advisor goes by Lady Olivia Caster or Countess Olivia Longclaw." At that, joyful little smirk escaped Yunan's stern military countenance. "All I really need is an excuse to award you with the title to cut down on the grumbling. So, go south with the supply caravan. Ensure these first few months go smoothly, maybe take down that heron the toads apparently couldn't be bothered with, and then come back here for your richly deserved reward."

Yunan slammed one knee against the stone of the throne room, right hand against left shoulder. "Of course, your majesty; you can count on me."

"It must be here somewhere..." Lady Olivia thoughtfully tapped her chin as Marcy followed her through the library, a small basket filled with baked goods looped over one arm. Enough to share, with leftovers for her family besides.

Olivia approached a tapestry and gently lifted it to reveal a button marked with a four pronged amphibian handprint. "Ah! Here it is!" Olivia reached up to press it into the wall. In a manner Marcy had become oddly accustomed to over the last week, a secret staircase opened before them. Musty-smelling air wafted past them as they peered down. "I found this when I was very young. I'd nearly forgotten about it before you asked. All the books were written in old Amphibian, which I couldn't read at the time. I have no idea if it has what you're looking for, but I hope it aids you in your search," Olivia said, crossing her hands in front of her.

Marcy nodded, trying not to get her hopes up. “This is exactly what I was looking for. Thank you, Olivia.”

Chapter 15: Catacomb Chaos - Part 1

Chapter Text

- Marcy's Journal -

Day 150 in Amphibia,

The meeting with Lady Olivia was everything I had hoped for and so much more. Funny, it seems ancient Newtopian architects really like secret passages, between the ones in the castle and the one Polly and I found in Newtopia U. (Or maybe that's just a general Amphibian thing, considering the dungeon back home?)

Off track, I got a lead! One of the several secret passages that Lady Olivia showed me was a secret wing of the library! Or more of a secret study off of the library. Olivia said she found it when she was young, but had forgotten about it ‘cause most of the tomes were in old Amphibian, which she wasn't proficient in. We checked it out briefly, and while a lot of the books seem to have been taken out over the years, the age of the ones that remained were right in the ballpark I was looking for. It took all my self restraint to not immediately ditch Lady Olivia and go into full research mode.

Speaking of -

[To the right of the following passage is a illustration of Lady Olivia with little stars around her]

Lady Olivia is so cool! We have weirdly a lot in common considering… well, everything! She is dating General Yunan. Though unfortunately they have to hide it for now cause politics. :( She used to be the royal botanist and knows a whole lot about Amphibia’s plant life! She’s lent me some seeds of some of the rarer species housed in the royal gardens for my alchemy. In return I’m gonna gift her a little tin of the Druid’s Lotion. I warned her that it would probably be pretty difficult to pick up but she seemed undaunted.

She’s also put me into contact with the Royal Blacksmith! He’s been helping me with some of my projects.

Day 151

I told Sasha about the hidden study, but she seems skeptical, which is fair. After combing through the whole royal library without any luck, I can understand why. We're going to go check it out after our little sparring session tomorrow. Which I'm also excited about since we're going to study Sasha's powers a bit! She says it's simple super strength, but I'm not sure about that. I've caught her... listening? To something or someone when it's otherwise quiet.

Maybe she has her own Ram? If so I wonder if our two mental constructs could hang out?

Speaking of which, Ram and I started our little campaign! I decided to play a Ranger. Little bit of martial, little magic, lots of skills to make up for the lack of a party. Ram planned out a big fantasy adventure! They’re having a bit of trouble getting the hang of roleplaying as the NPCs, but the story and setting are right out of my dreams (Probably literally lol).

Notes on Sasha's Powers

[Illustrations of Sasha litter the page]

Super Strength: This one is the most straightforward. When Sasha taps into her powers it gives her a kind of super strength that she can use to enhance her body! It seems to make her muscles much denser and capable of more torque then they'd otherwise have, though based on some of her scars it doesn't seem to be enough to ward off bladed weapons, so it's a good thing she's had that armor.

Empower: I knew it! I thought it was kind of fishy that Sasha was using finesse-based weapons with super strength. Swords are pretty durable, but the shaft of a spear should snap when subjected to the amount of force Sasha can output. It turns out she has a secondary power that she’s been using subconsciously - she can change the density and mass of objects. She’s been imbuing her weapons with its just before impact this whole time.

Note: Doesn't seem able to maintain it for long, so it’s unfortunately not ideal for reinforcing armor. Her whole powerset seems very attack-focused.

Curse?: So it turns out Sasha is being, like… haunted? Or something like it. She was light on details, but apparently she came into contact with some kind of (cursed?) artifact weapon owned by an old toad war hero. Apparently the warhammer head was as wide as her torso! (Lots of Beast Breaker energy from the description). She was having trouble wielding it during her duel with Grime when suddenly she experienced some kind of vision from the past. As soon as that happened, she knew exactly how to use the hammer, like it was ingrained muscle memory. It gave her the edge she needed to win the fight, but ever since then she's been getting these... visions of a toad pretty regularly.

Sasha was pretty reluctant to share this, but she said she wanted my opinion. :)

As far as conclusions I would draw from this… I'm not sure. It might be one of her powers, they can get pretty funky, but it could also be something weird with the hammer itself? Gonna look into this 'Barrel' and see what I can find out. I've seen him mentioned in passing in my research, but never got the chance to look into it.

Sasha rocked back and forth on her heels as she leaned against a bookshelf. After sifting through her apps for the hundredth time, she pocketed her phone. Not much to do without service. Sasha wished she had asked to borrow the Shift before they headed down here. They were in the secret library that Lady Olivia had shown to Marcy. Marcy had said she needed help retrieving books, but Sasha hadn’t realized she’d meant that literally. The books upstairs were thick, but these ones were bigger than they were - Sasha had needed to tap into her super strength just to get them down safely. Marcy stood over one that Sasha had wrestled down from a giant stone lectern.

They'd been there since morning, evidenced by a small stack of empty dishes Olivia had called in for them. Sasha checked the time on her phone; it was nearly 11 o'clock. They were getting close to when she had promised the Squirt she would drag Marcy up to bed. "Last book for the night, Marcy," Sasha warned.

"I can keep going," Marcy said with a wave.

"Didn't ask," Sasha replied.

Sasha gave the room a once over. It wasn't really... opulent like most of the castle, but it was clearly built with Andrias in mind. Or at least newts of Andrias' size. Everything in here was scaled to someone of his giant proportions. If it was some royal secret, why didn't he show them, or forbid them from investigating when Marcy found it?

Sasha puzzled over the possibility that this was some kind of play by the big newt, but she couldn’t figure out his angle. They shared a common goal - finding the stupid box and getting it working again. Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was missing something.

It wasn't the only thing on her mind, either. The whole talk she’d had with Marcy about powers was still bothering her. She leaned forward. "So let me get this straight… my powers got me haunted. Yours turn you into a sociopath.” She leaned back and threw her hands up indignantly. "Meanwhile, Anne gets to be a friggin’ mystic out of Star Conflict ?"

Sasha saw Marcy's concentration break when she mentioned Anne. A flash of hurt that she took a moment to breathe through. "Y-yeah." Her eyes refocused. "That's about right."

Sasha rolled her eyes; Marcy got like this whenever Anne's name came up. "I still think you're underestimating her." Marcy paused in her reading and looked up questioningly. "Anne. She's a total goober. I doubt she really hates you."

"... Yeah, maybe," Marcy said in the tone she used when she disagreed but didn't want to argue about it.

Sasha held back a sigh. Anne bailing had really done a number on her. She wouldn't mind knowing a bit more before their next encounter. "So anyways, her whole, emotion sense thing, how does that-"

"Sash, I really need to focus on translating... there are notes in my journal, in the middle somewhere." Marcy waved vaguely towards the table Sasha was next to. Worn little stickers adorned the front, a bubbling chemistry beaker filled with green liquid along with some of her game characters. Sasha shrugged and flipped to the most recent entry.

Notes On Sasha's Powers -

Sasha knew it wouldn't be here, but took a moment to admire the sketches Marcy had done of her showing off each of her various powers. The first was an image of a tiny cartoon Sasha easily juggling Marcy and two boulders. The second was a more detailed illustration of Sasha sundering a suit of armor they had brought up to test Marcy's hypothesis. The third showed Sasha sitting down, visibly annoyed as a cartoon-y ghost toad tried to spook her. Sasha flipped back a few pages, skipping past everything obviously about Newtopia.

Magic Moss!

There's some cool moss in Gardington! Apparently it gives druidic powers! Maybe I can convince them to give me some before I set off for Newtopia . Never mind! They were cultists and tried to kill us. Sprig stole some of the moss for me though :D

Sasha made a mental note to ask Marcy about that later.

Medusa Curse: Curse to turn a living creature to stone-

Sasha flipped past several pages of magic junk she didn't really care about. She could always ask Marcy about it. As she flipped she frowned, clocking a sudden dearth of personal journal entries. She paused on a page with blueprints for fireworks on the right side. She’d had a feeling that Marcy had a hand in those. As she continued to flip back through the pages, she caught a line on the left page.

Anne likes me back!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Sasha was a few pages beyond before the sentence really registered. She paused for a moment, then flipped back to the page.

Anne and I are dating now!!!!!!! Anne likes me back!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I'm so. happy. I can't believe it. God it was so embarrassing when she found out, but ANNE KISSED ME ON THE CHEEK. It was so sweet and romantic and I love her, I love her so much!!! It feels so good to write that without coding it in my head first.

The entry went on, but it was bullsh*t that didn't matter. Surrounded by hearts was a portrait of Anne wearing a soft pretty smile and Marcy's sweatshirt?! Sasha reread the entry over and over again and tried to make sense of it. Anne and Marcy were dating. Anne and Marcy were dating?!

Sasha felt her face heat up and her eye start to twitch as a torrent of emotion threatened to overwhelm her. Her thumb dug into the hardcover spine of the journal, adding one more thin, zig-zagging scar to the binding.

Marcy gasped and Sasha snapped the journal closed, assuming she’d been caught. She looked up at Marcy, who still loomed over the book, her eyes wide and sparkling. "Sash! This is it! We found it! There’s a way to recharge the box!"

For a moment Sasha had completely forgotten what they were even looking for. Her eyes darted back down to the massive tome on the ground, which was open to a page that displayed a picture of the music box alongside a bunch of old Amphibian writing. Marcy plucked her journal from Sasha’s grasp, flipped to a new page, and started to copy down the information.

Sasha moved to look over Marcy's shoulder. In addition to the image of the music box, there were depictions of the three gems alongside maps highlighting three locations throughout Amphibia.

"These three temples," Marcy pointed at the three illustrations on the right hand page, "have some mechanism to charge each of the stones! Isn't that great?" She looked expectantly at Sasha.

Sasha forced a smile and reached out to squeeze Marcy’s shoulder. "Sounds like a great start," she confirmed.

Marcy’s eyes shimmered faintly as she grinned at Sasha, then she turned her attention back to her journal and started to cheerfully transcribe the contents of the tome. As soon as Marcy’s attention was off of her, Sasha stepped back out of her line of sight and let her face fall. Anger still simmered beneath the surface, but as she stared at her friend, Sasha remembered what Marcy had told her the night they’d reunited in Newtopia.

After Anne figured out I knew about the box... I unloaded all this on her, she asked for some time alone... then she- she left.

A bitter note of sympathy spoiled her blind anger and gave her enough distance to try and figure out where that anger came from.

"This is going to be great! Not just for us, but for everyone," Marcy mused. "Once the box is back in place, the tech that will come back online will help everyone..."

Sasha let the comment go unremarked upon aside from an automated hum of agreement as she tried to sort through her thoughts. But after a moment she looked up at Marcy and said in a low tone. "... what tech?"

Marcy looked down the alleyway warily. She and the Plantars were somewhere in downtown Newtopia, along with Sasha, who hovered behind them. Hop Pop and Polly were picking up something they had ordered from a recent shopping trip. She flicked her eyes over to Sprig. "Are you sure this is the place?" Marcy asked, keeping a firm hold on the gold goblet in her bag.

"That's what the note said - back of the alley between the Hop Topic and Frog Claire's. Oh, there he is!" Sprig pointed down the alley where a newt in bureaucrat robes with a long scar from his chin to his forehead leaned against a wall. "Hi Prawnleg!" Sprig waved eagerly.

The newt took a slow breath, returned the wave, and beckoned them into the alley.

Marcy was starting to have some doubts about the whole thing. She'd been so excited about the cup and everything that she hadn't thought to ask who had given it to them. She had thought it was weird to meet outside of the castle when Prawnleg supposedly worked there, and now it all felt rather sketchy. She was suddenly glad that Sasha had insisted on accompanying them. Marcy glanced back at her friend, still dressed in her tunic, but with a sword on her belt. Sasha seemed lost in her own thoughts, but maybe that meant there was nothing to worry about?

The three of them ducked into the alleyway to a pocket of space left between a few properties. Next to the robed newt was a newt that Marcy guessed was his brother. Unlike the robed newt, this one wore a high quality but beat-up jacket over a shirt with a few holes in it. He looked... unsettled.

"Hi there, I-"

"Did you figure out what that cup did to me?" the shabby newt demanded in a stuttering tone. "Why can't I spend money? I have business to attend to!"

"Jack, show the witch respect," Prawnleg reprimanded, hitting the skittish newt in the shoulder. The bureaucrat’s eyes flashed skeptically towards Sasha. "Sorry about him. I heard tell that you think you’ve figured out what’s wrong with my brother? You know how to fix him?"

"Yes and no," Marcy said, which earned a disappointed look. "I know why this is happening, but only you can fix it," she cautioned. "Let me explain what I learned first." Marcy flipped open her bag and fished out the goblet. "So, this doesn't have a name or anything, but I've dubbed it the Cup of Oaths." Marcy held it up with a bit of reverence. It was really good fortune to come across such a thing. "You see, what I discovered is that this isn't cursed in the traditional sense, it’s just a vessel for a ritual. Which is fascinating in its own right! Usually, rituals require a great deal of preparation - getting the right runes, components, and whatnot, but this actually boils the ritual down into its simplest form-" Marcy started to point out the careful rune-work inscribed inside the cup itself.

"Mar-Mar?" Sasha interrupted Marcy's explanation of the role of components in rituals. She glanced back at Sasha, who was giving her a look. "I think they want the simple version."

Marcy turned back to the two newts she’d been talking to, who both stared blankly at her. Marcy flushed as she realized she had gotten carried away again. She coughed to clear her throat and started over. "Right. So basically: When certain conditions are met for a ritual, it has a corresponding effect.” As she spoke, she fished out her trusty, dented canteen and poured a thimble of water into the goblet. “For this cup, the condition is to make a declaration while holding it, then take a drink. For example: I swear I will snap my fingers." She drank from the cup.

A faint burning sensation started in her shoulder, and she quickly rolled up her sleeve as the ritual took hold. Old Amphibian runes materialized in a spiral around her arm. “This is a reminder of my oath.” Jack glanced down at his own arm. “If you take any action that would prevent you from fulfilling your oath, you’ll start to feel sick,” she said seriously. Jack swallowed hard at her words. “Once you complete your oath, however…” Marcy snapped her fingers. The writing faded in a matter of moment, and the irritation disappeared. “...the mark disappears.”

Prawnleg nodded in understanding, then slapped his brother in the back of the head. "What the hell did you promise, you mook?"

"I-I don't know, I was pretty out of it," Jack said. He bunched up his shoulders and held his hands up to defend himself. "We were a few glasses in, alright?"

"You have a similar mark, right?" Marcy interrupted before the two could bicker over this.

Prawnleg paused his scolding to gesture back to Marcy for his brother to answer. Jack nodded, rolled up his sleeve, and showed the ring of characters on his skin. "Yeah, what good does that do us?"

"That's old Amphibian," Marcy explained. "It is a record of what you swore - even if you don't remember what you promised, it does."

Jack looked over the words skeptically. "This here's writin'?"

"Yeah, this cup is old." Marcy said with a shrug. "I can translate it though." Marcy offered her hand out.

Jack looked hesitant, but his brother elbowed him and waved him forward. "Don't keep Lady Regina waiting."

Marcy rolled her eyes as Sasha snickered behind her. Jack sheepishly held out his arm and Marcy took it, turning it over to find the start of the statement. It was fairly short. "I. Promise. To. Pay. You. Back. Soon," she said, slowly parsing out each word. All the letters ran together in a single run-on word . Evidently , formatting was not the ritual’s strong suit. "So... hope you remember who you were talking to."

"You owe someone money again?" Prawnleg asked, enraged but not surprised.

Jack thought about it for a moment. "No I... oh frog dammit. I borrowed some copper from Gabe for a game of singles."

"Gabe? Gabe the Gulch? You stupid-" Prawnleg berated his brother with a string of what Marcy guessed was profanity. She hadn't yet fully grasped what was and wasn't polite - she’d once repeated a phrase she'd learned from Mrs. Croaker in front of her siblings and got an earful from Hop Pop - but, she could infer enough from context to reach back and cover Sprig's tympanum as quickly as possible.

"Marcy, hey! I want to hear." Sprig pushed at her wrists, to no avail.

Eventually, Prawnleg’s tirade tapered off, though it seemed more like he’d run out of breath than things to say. He shook his head. "Alright, so this curse, ritual, whatever, it’s the reason he can't buy anything without feeling like he's going to die?"

"Yes," Marcy confirmed, letting go of Sprig's head. "The ritual takes measures to make sure you fulfill your oath. If you hadn't specified 'soon' you would probably have more wiggle room."

"So what happens if I don't pay?" Jack asked. "’Cause I don't plan on giving him a single copper if I can avoid it."

"Well... you won't be able to handle money anymore. The ritual will see to that. Plus, if Gabe dies for any reason... you will also die." She paused to wait for a response, but was met only by a pair of shocked stares. "Did I not mention that part?"

"No!" the two brothers snapped in the same indignant tone.

"Oh, well, if the oath becomes impossible to complete, it will kill you. So, uh, yeah. I'd pay that back as soon as you're able."

Prawnleg sighed deeply and then looked at his brother. "How much are you in the hole for?"

Jack cringed and mumbled something Marcy couldn't make out.

"Sorry, one more time?" Prawnleg requested.

"...couple hundred."

"A couple- " Prawnleg sputtered as his face contorted into a rictus of fury, which abruptly melted away into a much colder, more tightly controlled anger that was far scarier than the boiling rage. He took a deep breath and pointed towards a corner. "Go, we'll figure this out once I'm done talking to the witch."

"Come on, Larry, I-" Prawnleg snapped his fingers and pointed again to the corner. Jack slunk away to the corner, head hung low.

Prawnleg rubbed at his forehead before returning his attention to Marcy. "Sorry you all had to see that." He straightened his posture and spoke in a much more controlled way. "Thank you for looking into that cup for us. We're all square. I'll just take back the cup and get to fixing this whole mess." He held out his hand.

"Oh... uh, actually..." There was still a lot to learn about how the ritual was imbued into the item that Marcy wanted to study. Reverse engineering the technique to create true enchanted items would be a huge breakthrough in her magic research.

"That wasn't part of the deal," Prawnleg said with a frown.

"I-I know, but-" Marcy tried to think of some way to persuade him, but drew a blank. She didn't exactly have any money to compensate him.

"She's just trying to be nice." Sasha’s voice rang with ironclad authority as she stepped next to Marcy, draped an arm loosely over her shoulder, and scooped the cup from her grasp. "Truth is, after hearing about what this thing can do? The kingdom's going to take custody of it."

"Wait, I didn-" Marcy cut herself off as she felt Sasha’s nails dig into her arm.

"However, they did authorize me to give you three farthings for your trouble," Sasha explained smoothly. She fished three large golden coins out of a pouch on her belt and held them up enticingly between her fingers. Prawnleg looked suspiciously at Sasha, and made no move to take them. The silence stretched on for a few moments, and when Sasha spoke again there was a sharp edge hiding under the placating overtones. "Of course, if you have a problem with that, I could always get my friends in the guard to come explain it to you. We can investigate where the cup came from, really just get to know you and your brother and all your business..."

Prawnleg swallowed nervously, then held out a hand to accept the coins. "Yeah. Sure. Nothing for it. Jack!" He turned back to his brother. "Come on, we have to talk about how you're going to pay back the loan I'm about to give you to save your frickin’ life."

The two brothers resumed their bickering, and Sasha tapped Marcy's shoulder and nodded for them to head back out towards the street. As they emerged onto the thoroughfare, Sasha underhand-tossed the cup back at Marcy. "Here you go, Mar-Mar."

Marcy caught the cup and stuffed it back into her bag. "Thanks, Sash! I'll... try to pay you back." Marcy wasn't fully sure what a farthing was worth, she'd never had the chance to handle gold while in Amphibia.

"Don't worry about it, I’ve got plenty more bounty money where that came from." Sasha shrugged, waved dismissively, and immediately got lost in her own head again.

"Wait, so, you get to keep the cup?" Sprig asked. "I thought the kingdom was keeping it?"

Marcy leaned back and whispered to her brother, "That was just an excuse, she basically bought it off him for me." And used a veiled threat to get a discount.

"Oh. Wow, you city folk really talk around in circles, don't you?" Sprig whispered dubiously.

Marcy chuckled. "She's also always been better with people than me. Back home, she'd always keep bullies away and get us out of trouble." She smiled as she thought back to a day in grade school. Sasha had tackled some kids that had stolen a ball they’d been playing with, and still managed to sweet-talk the teacher into taking their side. "Isn't that right, Sash?"

"Hm? Yeah, sure..."

They kept an eye out for Hop Pop and Polly as they made their way to the big fountain in the middle of the shopping district. Sasha got there a few paces ahead of all of them and took a seat, still clearly bothered by something. Marcy sat down next to her and settled in to watch the crowds of people pass by. "Copper for your thoughts, Sash?"

Sasha fixed her with a look, not too dissimilar from the one that Prawnleg had sent his brother. "No. I'm good, Mar-Mar," she stated flatly.

Marcy nodded and tried not to look hurt. Sasha got like this sometimes - she wouldn't want to talk to anyone for a day or so. Usually Marcy and Anne were exceptions, but Marcy could understand why she wasn't necessarily Sasha’s favorite person at the moment. Even if she’d found their next step towards getting home, she was still the reason they were here in the first place.

It didn't mean that Marcy had done something new wrong, and it definitely didn't mean that Sasha had only been nice to her to motivate her because… because it couldn't.

They’d agreed to start over, it was fine.

Marcy shifted her attention to Sprig, who was scanning the crowd, but not in the relaxed way of looking for their family members. He looked like he did back in the marshlands around Wartwood, watching for predators on one of their days in the wilderness. "You okay, Sprig?"

Sprig stopped his persistent gaze and nodded, "Oh, yeah I'm alright, just... anxious I guess?" he explained.

"Why ya feelin' anxious?" Marcy bumped her head encouragingly against Sprig, who was still perched on her shoulder.

"Maybe I'm not used to the city yet. Surrounded by so many people... all day I've felt like I'm about to walk into an-"

"AMBUSH!"

A shrouded figure collided with Sprig, tackling him clean off of Marcy's shoulder and into the fountain behind them with a spray of water. Marcy scrambled to her feet and turned around. "Sprig!?" While she was distracted, what felt like a dense sack of rice slammed into her back. The impact caused her to trip over the lip of the fountain, soaking her as well.

Marcy coughed up the musty fountain water and turned around to look at her attacker. Standing on the lip of the fountain, dressed in a black cloak, a little frog figure looked down at her with a single yellow eye. "You!" She pointed an accusatory blue finger down at Marcy, then flipped down her hood to reveal splotchy pink hair. "...are very late for our coven meetup."

"Maddie!" Marcy surged forward and pulled the little blue frog into a tight hug.

Maddie squirmed to free an arm from the crushing embrace and patted Marcy's side. "Kinda- squishing me here."

"Oh! Sorry!" Marcy loosened her grip.

"All good," Maddie coughed.

Marcy looked behind her and saw Ivy wrestling with Sprig in the fountain. She was missing her trademark beanie, leaving her hair wild and free as she and Sprig laughed and fought to dunk each other in the water.

"Ivy!"

The red haired girl stopped for a moment to look back at Marcy. "Hey, Marcy! Long time no see!" She let go of Sprig and he sprung up out of the water.

"What are you guys doing in Newtopia?" Marcy asked, crossing her legs and turning to face everyone, still sitting in the fountain water.

Ivy shrugged, an excited grin on her face. "Mom decided to go on a road trip, said I should come with her!"

"Dad wanted me to learn about different bread recipes abroad," Maddie explained. She sounded less enthused, but her dour expression widened into a toothy grin as she tapped her finger tips together. "Luckily, this has given me the opportunity to experiment with all sorts of components from outside of the valley."

Ivy rolled her eyes good-naturedly, then shot them a concerned look. "What about you guys? We figured you'd both be holed up somewhere waiting for things to blow over..."

"We saw the wanted posters..." Maddie pulled out a wanted poster of Hop Pop. The artist had taken some liberties and given him a stony countenance and a hollow-eyed stare.

Sprig grabbed the paper and proudly tore it to shreds. "Nope, we're all good. Marcy got us an audience with the king to plead our case. She did such a good job that we've been guests at the palace for the last few weeks."

"Swanky," Maddie said complimentarily.

"It was stressful," Marcy admitted. She thought back to the knot of nerves she'd been tied up in when she strode into the throne room. After a moment, she shook off the memory and smiled at Ivy and Maddie. "It's... really good to see both of you." Marcy tentatively offered up her fist.

Ivy, Maddie, and of course Sprig held theirs up in response. They all fist bumped and stacked their hands in a loose pile before bouncing them together and chanting, "World Hoppers Go!" They threw up their hands and struck power poses together. They all tried to maintain serious faces for a few moments, but quickly descended into a fit of giggles together.

As they did, Marcy realized she felt... light. For the first time in weeks, a spark of childish whimsy had returned to her. It wasn’t as strong as it had been when she was still in denial about everything, but its return was welcome. "Still, kind of wild that we ran into each other. What made your mom decide to go on a road trip?"

"Well, most of her tea collection got ruined, so she needed to get more," Ivy summarized.

"What? How did that happen?" Marcy frowned. She knew how proud Ms. Sundew was of her tea collection.

"Wow." Marcy’s train of thought was derailed as she was reminded of the presence of her other companion. She turned to see Sasha, who had stood up to smirk down at the group. "You really were queen of the munchkins back in the valley, weren't you?"

Marcy felt her face heat up as she fought down a wave of embarrassment. She stood up and began to wring out her skirt. "Oh, um…" She gestured to the newly arrived frogs. "Sasha, these are our friends from the Valley, Ivy and Maddie."

Sprig hopped up onto Marcy's shoulder. "They're the ones who helped me break Marcy out of the tower," he stage-whispered. Sasha raised an eyebrow, impressed. Marcy was grateful for the assist.

"Ivy, Maddie, this is my other friend from Earth, S-"

"Captain Waybright," Ivy said sourly.

"We're acquainted," Maddie said in a low voice.

Marcy suddenly had a bad feeling about this. "Right, back on the night we left... what happened after we left for the farm?"

"She led the newts and toads who ransacked the town!" Ivy protested.

Marcy looked back at Sasha for confirmation. Sasha shrugged, unashamed. Marcy felt a pit of anxiety form in her gut.

"Ivy! Maddie! Where did those two run off to..." Felicia Sundew did her best to make her way through the crowd, but after years of living back home in Wartwood, she had forgotten what it felt like to have to muscle her way through the streets of Newtopia. It was especially difficult to find her shorter daughter and her friend.

Honestly, the whole trip had been terribly stressful. Those two ran off at the first sign of something interesting. At first Felicia had been able to keep on top of them, but they had learned to wait until she was just distracted enough to slip away. It was bad enough when they were in some small town with three things to see, but here in Newtopia she might really lose them for-

"AMBUSH!"

Well, that made things easier; her daughter’s voice had come from the market square fountain, about a block away. Felicia shouldered her way through the crowd of onlookers, resisting the urge to start throwing elbows to make faster progress. They were trying to avoid attention after all.

Eventually, she came across a fairly surprising scene. Ivy and Maddie were both in the fountain water, clothes soaked from head to toe, which wasn't so unusual; however, Felicia was shocked to see who they were with – Marcy and Sprig Plantar. She hadn't thought she would ever see them again after their flight from the valley.

But here they were, laughing and splashing one another. Despite her utter confusion, Felicia could only feel relieved. That's about the time she noticed the second human who was lurking near the fountain. Not Anne, the sweetheart who had actually taught her something new about tea. It was the blonde one, Captain Waybright. Felicia watched anxiously as Marcy tried to introduce Ivy and Maddie to the brute.

Ivy had many wonderful traits that Felicia had come to appreciate, but even-temperedness was not one of them. Felicia left her spot at the edge of the crowd and called out. "Girls! How many times have I told you not to run off the minute we go off to a new town?" Ivy turned to look at her and Felicia gave her a look, silently begging her not to make this situation any worse. She stepped into the water to grab both Maddie and Ivy's wrists to lead them away. "Marcy, Sprig, it's so nice to see you both again, though I’m surprised it was in Newtopia of all places. Captain Waybright, I hope you can excuse them, and my impoliteness, but we really must be going now."

Felicia waded through the fountain. This dress was not the most hydrodynamic, but she pushed onward and kept a wary eye out for any objection from the captain. The girl stared piercingly at her for a moment, then nodded to herself before she finally spoke. "They've been pardoned."

Felicia was still trying to coax Ivy and Maddie out of the water when the words' meaning struck home. "I'm sorry?"

"Marcy and Sprig." Waybright gestured to the dark haired human and her brother. "It turns out that the toads either misunderstood or overstated Marcy's involvement in the events at Toad Tower, after wrongfully imprisoning her in the first place." The captain maintained unflinching eye contact as she spoke slowly and deliberately. "So Sprig - as well as anyone else who happened to help her escape…" she paused and glanced meaningfully at Ivy and Maddie, "...have been cleared of all wrongdoing."

Felicia looked back to the fountain. Sprig waved back at her pleasantly, like he was visiting Ivy back in Wartwood. Marcy also waved to her but seemed more self conscious about it, her other hand clamped down on her bicep.

Felicia looked back to the captain; the girl stood stalwart, just as she had on the night they’d met, but she no longer radiated malice. Felicia slowly let go of Ivy and Maddie's wrists. "Well alright, then. That is a relief to hear," Felicia admitted.

"So, Ivy mentioned you're out here replacing all the tea that got ruined that night, huh?" The captain made a show of inspecting her nails.

Felicia bit back an angry retort and settled on something more diplomatic. "Well, I can't exactly run a tea shop without it.” She did her best to suppress her bitterness, but some still leaked through.

Sasha nodded before she went on. "You got a ledger of some kind? A record of how much you spent on the tea and supplies, as well as whatever you used for transport - a snail - wagon- whatever?" She listed each item with a gesture of disinterest, but her focus remained on Felicia.

That one threw Felicia a bit. This was going a bit long for a taunt. "Wouldn't be much of a business woman if I didn't." That thought weighed on her. She made a tidy profit out of her teashop, but there was going to be some belt tightening for sure once they were home.

"Great. Slap on a month or two of lost profits, get me a number and I'll make sure the kingdom reimburses you before you have to leave," the captain said with a confident smile.

"I... what?" Felicia said, dumbfounded by the offer. "Why?"

"You were a victim of our scouts half-assing the job and forcing you to cover for an innocent person. The kingdom can foot the bill for getting your tea house back up and running," Sasha explained. "You're welcome to try official channels if you like but... well, how'd that go for you and your granddad, Squirt?"

"I have connections with the mob now!" Sprig said cheerfully. Marcy frantically lunged to cover his mouth and quickly scanned the crowd for eavesdroppers.

Sasha rolled her eyes. "Right. So, if you want to avoid that paperwork nightmare, I can get you what you're owed much quicker." From her pocket she flicked out a golden card of some kind.

Felicia considered the offer; it would go a long way to getting things back to normal. "What's the catch?"

"The catch is that I have other stuff to do and other places to be." Waybright pocketed the card. "If you can get me the ledger by the end of the day, I can help out. Otherwise, you're on your own."

"A-all right." Felicia started to run calculations on how many coppers she could recoup. Thus distracted, she didn't notice her little firestarter growing agitated at her side.

"And that just makes it all okay?" Ivy demanded hotly, coming to stand between Felicia and the captain.

"Ivy..." Felicia said with a frown. Felicia was proud of her daughter's sense of justice, but she had also lived long enough to know when to pick your battles, and someone trying to bury the hatchet wasn't it. She looked back at the captain, who maintained a stony expression for a few moments before it softened just a touch.

"No," she countered with a shrug. Felicia could sense Ivy's confusion at the admission. "Listen, I don't expect any of you to suddenly like me just ‘cause I can throw some money around. Frankly, if I were in your shoes, I'd hate my guts. That aside, I did want to thank you two pipsqueaks."

"... for what?" Maddie said suspiciously.

"For saving Marcy when I wasn't there to do it myself," Sasha explained sincerely. "You're free to hate me regardless, but I felt that needed to be said."

Felicia could see the frustration build in Ivy's shoulders as she tried to pick a fight only to find none. Felica gently pulled her back. "We'll just go and get you that ledger to work from," she said, trying to hasten their exit.

"Wait, I haven't gotten the chance to catch up with Sprig yet!" Ivy complained, craning her neck to look back at her.

Maddie immediately backed Ivy up. "And I have to tell Marcy about all the laws of nature I've subverted!"

Felicia hesitated. The idea of trying to add figures while the two of them were pestering her to hurry up was already giving her a headache, but the thought of leaving them in the city without her made her nervous.

"Don't worry, no harm will come to them," the captain assured coolly. "Captain's honor - or whatever - Marcy and I will keep an eye on them."

Felicia looked to Marcy, who nodded reassuringly. She still had some misgivings about the captain, but she trusted Marcy to keep an eye on Ivy and Maddie. Getting the full story of what happened at the Tower saw to that. "Alright, fine. I'll be back shortly, you two. Don’t leave this district of the city."

Maddie and Ivy readily agreed, which didn't reassure Felicia at all. She bustled back to the wagon they had been traveling in. Aside from the large splintering impact of an enraged rhino beetle, it had survived the trip fairly well. She strode in and immediately went to her cabinet, from which she pulled a thick ledger. She began to count up expenses for the last month, but before she could get too far there was a knock on the door of her wagon.

Confused, she stood back up and flung the door open. Standing before her was Hopediah Plantar, with a bucket that held his snoozing granddaughter in one arm and a green box tucked under the other. "Felicia Sundew, I thought that was you."

Sweat beaded on Sprig's brow as he deliberated between the remaining two straws. Marcy and Maddie had already pulled theirs, and neither had drawn the short straw. Ivy smirked and stared him down, giving no clue as to which of the last two straws was the better choice. With a shaking hand he reached out and plucked one of the straws, which was clearly the short straw. "Aw, man..."

"Ha! You lose, Sprig," Ivy jeered playfully. She twirled the last remaining long straw between her fingers. "You gotta wait in line." Ivy gestured to the line of newts all waiting their turn to get to a food stand. The owner was handing out kebabs and wraps to customers.

Marcy smiled sympathetically at her brother. "Sorry Sprig, I translated the menu and wrote down our orders for you..." she said as she ripped a corner of a sheet from her journal. "You sure you’re okay with waiting for us?" she asked self-consciously.

Sprig puffed out his chest. "I'm no sore loser, sis. I drew the short straw, I'll wait in line," Sprig insisted proudly. Besides, it had been his idea to draw straws in the first place. He couldn't back out just ‘cause he lost.

"He's fine," Maddie agreed. She held up a pair of witch pouches. "Want to see something neat?"

"Sure!" Marcy directed her attention to the little witch.

Maddie stepped back a few paces and tossed one pouch down at the ground which exploded into a haze of purple dust. Sprig could hear her suck in a deep breath as she was consumed by the smoke and then the other pouch flew out from the dust cloud and across the market, where it exploded into a similar cloud of smoke. Maddie emerged from the second cloud in a 'tadaa' pose.

Marcy looked between the two smoke clouds before stepping forward and waving a hand through the first. Even as it dissipated, Maddie was nowhere to be seen in it. Marcy looked back at Maddie on the other side of the market. "You figured out how to teleport?!" Marcy said. She stumbled towards Maddie's position, rapidly flipping to a fresh page in her journal.

Ivy chuckled and smiled at Sprig. "Thanks for grabbing the food ,Sprig." She started to follow after Marcy, but paused to call back over her shoulder. "Remember, no onions on mine!"

Sprig gave a salute in confirmation and settled into the monotony of waiting in line. It took him a whole two minutes before he was bored out of his mind. The lunch rush line was moving, but it was dreadfully slow.

He gazed longingly across the square to where his friends were all chatting. On impulse, he held up his hands to use as puppets, which he matched with Maddie, Marcy, and Ivy's mouths as they spoke.

"'Oh, wow Maddie, how'd you manage to do that cool magic?'" He pitched his voice up slightly to match his sister's voice.

"'Oh well, I had to use the beating brain of a mantis and chop it up with all sorts of herbs and spices,'" he grumbled in an imitation of Maddie.

Ivy started talking, striking different martial arts poses. "'Yeah, you should have seen it, I totally kicked its head off in one kick! Hi-Ya!'"

"Having fun there, Squirt?"

Sprig stopped his show and looked up. Sasha had just emerged from a coffee shop, cup in hand. After Felicia left to get her money book or whatever, Sasha had excused herself to get some coffee. "Oh, hey Sasha! How's the coffee?"

Sasha shrugged and eyed the drink dubiously. "Not sure, haven't tried it yet." She lifted the cup to sip and her face immediately scrunched up in disgust as she spat it out to the side. "Gah, garbage."

"Bummer. What's wrong with it?"

"Tastes like dirt. Must've changed baristas since the last time I was here. The newt manning the machine seemed half asleep." Sasha tossed the cup up and down a few times, getting a feel for its weight, then reared back and hurled it into the distance. Sprig watched in awe as the cup sailed through the air over Newtopia’s rooftops.It flew so far away that Sprig had nearly lost sight of the cup when it clipped the side of a tall, pristine, white tower. A spray of dark brown liquid exploded outward on impact. He looked back at Sasha, who eyed the splatter with dissatisfaction.

"Woah," Sprig said, amazed. "... why'd you do that?"

"Eh, already paid for the coffee, might as well get some enjoyment out of it." She shrugged. “Would’ve been a nice surprise for Adrias if I hadn’t missed.” She smirked before her gaze settled on Ivy, Maddie, and Marcy on the other side of the plaza. "So, the 'World Hoppers'?"

"Yeah! It's the adventuring party Marcy, Polly, and I started! Ivy and Maddie were the first two to join!" Sprig explained.

"Oh yeah? Tell me about them."

"Oh, well I've known both of them since we were all pollywogs!"

Sprig regaled her with the fledgling group's adventures. About how they had been friends up until their falling out, though he skirted around the details. How Marcy had met Maddie and they’d had their whole spiritual beast dealio. Then their adventures together around the valley, Maddie and Marcy getting cool magic ingredients and Sprig and Ivy helping them survive the dangerous wilds around Wartwood. Sprig was relieved to have such a great way to pass the time as they waited in line to order.

Sasha listened passively while she looked over the menu Marcy had translated. She was a surprisingly good listener.

"...and that's pretty much it," Sprig said, delighted to find that they were nearly at the front of the line.

"Wow, sounds like it was a pretty wild couple of months," Sasha said with a nod.

"Yeah, everything's been really exciting ever since Marcy got here," Sprig said brightly. "I mean, stressful too, but thanks to her, Ivy and Maddie became friends again! It's really great to see them again."

"You're not worried?" Sasha asked, surprise clearly evident in her voice.

Sprig was about to ask what she meant when a gruff voice stopped him. "Hey, what do you two want?" The wide-faced newt behind the stall asked impatiently. He wore a tiny paper hat that was way too small for his head.

Sprig hopped up and grabbed the offered menu from Sasha's hand.

"We'll take one grub wrap with everything, one grub wrap without onions, and then four skewers!" Sprig recited the order as he traced his finger along the little x’s that Marcy had marked to show what they had all decided on. "Oh, and four iced teas, please."

"Make it five," Sasha added. She fished out a coin purse. "Plus another one of the wraps."

The salesman spoke as he scritched down the whole order. "You want all of those mild or Newtopian? Most outsiders prefer the mild."

"Mild," Sprig said, counting out the money the World Hoppers had pooled together.

"One Newtopian," Sasha countered.

"Ha! Always knew you were a Newtopian at heart, Captain," the stand owner said with a nod of comradery. "Hey Jerry! I need four skewers and three wraps. One with everything but taste. One without taste or respect. And one normal wrap. On the double, we got the Sun dining here today!" A newt manning the wide stone grill gave a thumbs up as he grabbed the order slip. The newt who took their order turned back to them. "That'll be fifteen coppers total." Before Sprig could fish out the money that the four Worldhoppers had collected, Sasha was already dropping a stack of coins into the worker's hand, more than fifteen. "Thank you kindly for the tip, Captain. You can wait over to the side, you're order thirty-seven." He handed her a little slip that had the number on it before gesturing them out of the way so the next people could order.

Sasha moved off to the side and resumed leaning against the wall with her arms crossed over her chest. Sprig stuffed his friends’ money back into his vest pocket and hopped over to join her. "Are you friends with that newt?"

"Hm? Oh, no. I just have that effect on people." Sasha smirked casually as she spoke.

Sprig nodded, remembering what Marcy had said earlier. "Thanks for paying for everything, by the way." She waved him off. Sprig smiled. It had taken a while, but he was starting to see Sasha in a better light. Putting aside the attempted Hop-Popicide, she was pretty cool. Sprig took up a position next to her and tried to mimic her casual lean against the wall. As they waited for their food to be ready, her comment from earlier niggled its way back into his brain. "Hey, uh... what did you mean about being worried earlier?"

"Hm? Oh, nothing probably." Sasha shrugged nonchalantly.

"Come on, tell me," Sprig insisted.

Sasha seemed to mull it over for a moment. "Well, it's just that the two of them were off on this whirlwind adventure across the continent without you." She regarded Sprig neutrally. "Probably bonded a lot. Have inside jokes and stories. I was just impressed that you didn't seem worried about it at all."

Sprig... hadn't really thought about that. "Yeah, I guess. We're all friends. This doesn't change anything."

"Really? You don't feel closer to Marcy at all after all your cult and pirate adventures?"

Sprig paused at that. He did feel a lot closer to Marcy after everything they had gone through together. He felt like he understood Marcy a lot better now. Was it the same for Maddie and Ivy?

Sasha pulled out her phone and started to scroll through it. "Well, you know them better than I do, I’m sure."

"Drinks for thirty-seven!" The food stand newt called out as he set five milky iced teas down on the pick up spot. "Food'll be another couple of minutes."

Sasha grabbed one of the iced teas for herself, then returned to her spot against the wall. "You can bring over the drinks, I'll wait for the food," she offered.

"Yeah, alright." Sprig nodded distractedly, gathered up the cups in his arms, and made his way steadily across the mall to where Marcy, Maddie and Ivy were chatting with one another. Marcy had taken out her little tin of plant gel and was rubbing her hands together. They were next to a planter box that sat in a corner of the mall. Marcy held out her hands and tiny pink flowers started to bloom on the bush as its branches grew unruly compared to the neatly trimmed appearance it’d had moments before.

Maddie briefly probed the branches to confirm that they had really grown, then snatched the tin. "How does this alchemy work? What did you use to make it?"

Ivy plucked a few of the flowers from the branches and sniffed them. "Oh, these are Newtopian blush blooms! Mom said they make a really nice tea when prepared correctly, and a really effective poison when not!"

Marcy preened at their reactions for a moment and then spotted Sprig approaching through the crowd. "Hey Sprig!" Marcy greeted. She reached out to pluck one of the iced teas from his arms so he didn't have to balance so many. Ivy and Maddie both stopped what they were doing and came over to retrieve their tea.

Maddie looked confused. "Where's lunch?"

"Oh, uh, food is still being made, Sasha said she'd pick it up." Sprig pointed back through the crowd at Sasha, who was still flicking through her phone as she sipped her own drink. "Oh, that reminds me." He fished out the little coin purse and started to divide up the copper among them. "Sasha picked up the bill for everything."

"Why?" Ivy asked suspiciously.

Sprig shrugged. "I dunno, she just did. I didn’t ask."

"Sasha does that sometimes," Marcy offered neutrally. "Just little gifts and the like. She can be thoughtful when the mood strikes her."

Maddie and Ivy gazed warily towards Sasha, who glanced up and gave a toast with her own tea before returning to whatever game or distraction she had on her phone.

"Hmmm..." Maddie hummed skeptically as she raised the tea to her lips. Then her eye opened and she looked down at her tea. "Hey, that's not bad."

Ivy took a thoughtful sip, then shrugged. "I mean, it's alright. I wouldn't say it's Berry-" she said with a strange drawl of an accent and a nod towards Maddie, "-good."

Maddie snorted and choked on her own drink at Ivy's comment. "Yeah! I guess nothing else is going to be, is it?"

Ivy and Maddie both started to snicker and Sprig looked between the two of them, feeling like he was missing something. "Sorry, what's the joke?" He looked to Marcy who didn't seem to get it either. She just shrugged.

"Oh, sorry, it's a bit of an inside joke." Ivy explained. "It's actually a pretty fun story. See, after we left the valley, Mom started selling tea out of our wagon. At busy crossroads and various towns. And you’ll never believe who we ran into out in Pond’s End."

"Who?" Sprig provided.

"Barry the Candy Maker!" Maddie interjected, clearly excited to share this story. "And it turns out that he was a practitioner of the dark arts."

"Really? Cool, I thought we were the only ones in the valley!" Marcy said, smiling. Sprig wandered over and sat next to Marcy, who had set aside her drink to scribble a note about 'Magic Candies' into the corner of her journal.

"No, not cool," Ivy corrected. "He nearly got us killed by an angry mob!"

Sprig settled in as Ivy began to tell their story. It was nice to see the two of them getting along so well.

"So we set up in town and Mom's tea's a big hit."

"Turns out a village that eats fruit all the time isn't super interested in fruit flavored candy. Shocking," Maddie added sardonically.

They seemed really close now, bouncing off one another naturally. It wasn't long ago when Sprig was like a bridge that connected Ivy and Maddie. Well, he and Marcy. Seeing them talk now, it was hard to believe that they refused to even speak to each other just a few months ago.

"...so by midday, half the town was turning into cursed fruit people and blaming me for it!" Maddie said, appalled. She shook her head. "For no good reason!"

"I mean, Madds," Ivy looked at her friend with an exasperated but warm expression. "It didn't help when that morning you declared 'I can curse you! I can curse this whole town if I wanted to!' and then cackled like a lunatic."

"So now it's a crime to talk in my sleep?" Maddie said flippantly.

Oh, cool! Ivy had a nickname for Maddie now. Maybe Ivy had a nickname, too. That was very cool, and Sprig wasn't jealous at all.

"So here Maddie and me are, hiding in Barry's wagon. The mob has my mom tied up to burn at the stake. We thought we were done for."

"Then, Barry walks in, monologuing about how his plan was all coming together," Maddie says sourly. "After that we confronted him and started to chase him through town."

Sprig was on the edge of his seat as he tried to keep up with the story, but he was still a little lost, especially as Maddie got into the magical spell slinging as they chased Barry through the town.

"So there we were: I was out of curses, but we had him cornered in the juicing barn-"

"Juicing… barn?" Sprig asked.

Maddie waved off his question. "They really liked fruit there. Anyways, Barry grabbed me by the collar."

Marcy leaned forward with interest. “What did you do?”

"Well... back before the whole mob situation got started I had collected some samples from a bunch of the cursed people in town," Maddie said with a coy smile.

Marcy's eyes sparkled with comprehension. "You counter hexed him!"

"Counter hexed?" Sprig whispered.

"When you pass a curse onto something else." Maddie explained shortly. "And no, I didn't counter hex him." She looked proudly at Ivy, who stood with one hand in her pocket, looking smug.

"Ivy, you made a counter hex? I-" Sprig faltered; they'd always commiserated over not knowing how all this magic junk worked. "I thought you didn't know any magic stuff?"

Ivy shrugged modestly. "I don't know a lot." She wrapped an arm around Maddie's shoulder. "But Madds here curses herself often enough that I had to learn some basics to get her back to normal."

"Sometimes the ethical advancement of the dark arts means you don't have opposable thumbs for a while." Maddie held up and flexed her thumbs to demonstrate.

Marcy gestured at the two girls to get them back on track. "So what happened with Barry?"

"First of all, he turned into a grotesque berry man," Maddie said in delight.

Ivy shuddered. "So lumpy..."

"Then his hand got too bulbous to hold onto me, so I slipped from his grip, circled behind him, and shoved him into the juicer myself."

At Sprig and Marcy's wince, Ivy jumped back in. "Oh, he survived, don't worry. Lots of broken bones, though," she assured.

"Aaaanyways, he gets juiced and this really murky liquid comes out the bottom, and-" Maddie suppressed a snicker "-and then Ivy said-"

Ivy cleared her throat, straightened her posture, and spoke in the same strange accent as before. "Oh, that doesn't look Barry good!"

Before Ivy had even finished, Maddie had already descended into hearty laughter, shaking her head. "It's so stupid."

"And yet you laugh every time!" Ivy said with a raised brow and a smirk.

"Of course I do!" Maddie protested. "It's hilarious!"

Sprig looked between them, he got it, kind of, but it didn't seem that funny. "...I don't get it."

"... Oh, I forgot. There was this guy in town, and he'd say 'This is berry good juice!'-" Ivy did the same accent. "-about anything he drank. Plus, it was Barry and he was a berry and..." Ivy took in Sprig's expression, which remained lost, and shrugged. "...I don't know, maybe you had to be there."

"Barry good..." Maddie imitated under her breath, still chuckling.

Sprig felt anxiety start to creep up his spine. Inside jokes, a close bond, totally comfortable with each other; it was just like Sasha had said! What if they realized that they didn't need Sprig there anymore? What if they didn't want to be friends with him at all any more?!

"Wow, sounds like a crazy adventure." Marcy started, getting the two girl's attention. "You should hear about some of the adventures Sprig and I have had! Oh, like how we got this moss!" Marcy gestured at a hanging vine and it grew down to meet her hand. "Sprig, you want to-"

"I'm gonna see if Sasha needs any help grabbing the food!" Sprig announced, launched himself out of his seat next to Marcy and sprinted across the mall.

"Captain?"

Sasha looked up from her phone to see the food stall vendor holding up a bag laden with their order. Sasha nodded in recognition, took the bag in hand, and prepared to go off and join Marcy and her little short stack squad. However, as she turned that way, a familiar pink frog launched himself at her chest, grabbed her by the collar, and leaned back, clear urgency in his eyes.

"Sasha! You were right! I need your help!"

Sasha stared at the frog. "Happy to give it. First, what you need to do is to stop pulling my shirt," she warned. Sprig grinned, then awkwardly clambered onto Sasha's shoulder to perch there instead. A few weeks ago, she would have shrugged him off, but she could admit that he’d maybe started to grow on her. "Alright. Now then, what's up, Squirt?" Sasha kept her pace slow so they’d have plenty of time to talk.

"It was just like you said, they're way closer to each other now!" Sprig explained in hushed hurried tones. "You're good with people, and you and Marcy are friends again despite everything. What do I do?"

Sasha smiled; this, she knew how to do. "Easy, Squirt. You just have to take charge," she explained simply.

"Take charge?" Sprig sounded unsure.

"Yeah, you know, be a leader. Plan out cool things for the three of you to do. Keep an eye out for them. Establish yourself as someone they rely on," Sasha rattled off easily.

"You think that'll really work?"

"Hey, they can't leave you behind if you're out in front," Sasha advised in a sing-song tone.

"That's so pithy that it must be true!" Sprig said, clearly on board with the idea.

Sasha nodded and smiled. It was nice to finally have someone get it. They finally reached where Marcy was waiting with the little frogs. They were still looking at her warily. Sasha couldn't do much but stay the course. She held up the bag of food in greeting. "Lunch is here..." She sifted through the bag and pulled out the four skewers, which were all wrapped together in a bundle. "Who got skewers?"

Sprig waved from her shoulder. "Oh, two for me. Two for Maddie." He grabbed the skewers and hopped down next to Maddie. They unwrapped the foil to reveal kabobs skewered with grilled fruits, vegetables, and beetles. Sprig grabbed two and offered the other two to the little goth frog.

"You wanted no onions, right Ivy?" Sasha held up a foil wrapped burrito. Ivy nodded and Sasha tossed it underhand to her. The little frog caught it with a snap of her hand. "Quick hands," Sasha complimented mildly. Sasha saw the girl's lips twitch into a smile for a moment before she focused on her food. Sasha took note of that as she dug around for the last two items in the bag. One had 'mild' scrawled over it, while the other was unmarked. Sasha kept the mild for herself and tossed the 'Newtopian' spicy one over to Marcy. "Here you go, Mar-Mar."

Marcy fumbled the catch at first, but managed to save it. "Thanks, Sashy." Marcy removed the foil and took a bite of the wrap; Sasha watched her eyes widen dramatically. Her face flushed and tears beaded in her eyes as the spice hit her tongue. As she pulled the wrap away, Sasha could smell the potent spices

"Marcy?" Maddie looked up in concern as she noticed Marcy's reaction.

Marcy chewed for a few moments before managing to swallow. She immediately started to cough, tears streaming down her face as she fanned herself with her free hand.

Ivy hopped to her side and patted Marcy's back, then glared at Sasha. "What did you do?"

Maddie sifted through her pockets, pulling out weeds and small, gross-looking jars; she muttered something about pranks under her breath.

Sasha was surprised by their response at first, but then gave them a smug look. "What? Marbles likes spicy food." Maybe they weren't so close after all.

Marcy breathed more steadily, having recovered from her first bite. She used her sleeve to wipe the tears out of her eyes, then, to Maddie and Ivy's surprise, immediately took a second, much more conservative bite. "Mmmmm." She hummed happily as tears started to well up again.

“She actually enjoys Hop Pop’s pain peppers,” Sprig said in agreement with Sasha. “We had to ban her from snacking on them while she was driving the fwagon.”

"This has some kick," Marcy said. She took a long drink from her tea to combat the spiciness. “Thanks, Sashy!”

“You know I've got you, girl." Sasha smiled; she’d never understood Marcy's penchant for spicy food, and the girl had no tolerance for it. "Make sure you pace yourself, they use strong stuff here," Sasha advised and Marcy nodded. Sasha started on her much milder wrap.

Out of her periphery, she saw Ivy and Maddie looking slightly cowed by the exchange. Not a win Sasha had planned, but a nice bonus regardless.

Sasha also took a moment to make encouraging eye contact with the Squirt as if to say 'see?' He nodded in understanding, and the conversation meandered on.

After what had happened in the valley, she couldn't be too active in this game. No matter how much these two frogs provoked her, Sasha would be the villain if she responded in kind. So she would play nice, and one of two things would happen: either they would give Sasha a chance and drop their grudge, or Sasha would use her broken olive branches to drive a wedge between them and Marcy. Sasha just had to run out the clock. In a week, or two at the most, all these little frogs would be leaving back to the valley, and Sasha would have Marcy all to herself again.

Sasha felt like she had come a long way since arriving in Amphibia. She’d learned to recognize her faults. She could admit that she hadn't been the best to her friends in recent years. She'd taken Marcy for granted and made her feel insecure in their friendship. She'd ignored Anne's boundaries and pushed her to do whatever she wanted. She was already putting in the work to fix things with Marcy, and she'd do the same once they found Anne. She would treat them better and then they’d be friends again. They would be her friends again. And she’d be damned if she was going to sit idle and let these two half-pints poison Marcy against her.

Marcy’s straw let out a noisy whine as she maneuvered it around the bottom of her glass to get the last few drops of her tea. She scooped an ice cube from the bottom of the glass to finish cooling her mouth and looked around their little gathering. They all sat on a semicircular bench set into one of the alcoves that dotted the shopping district. Ivy and Maddie sat at one end, with Sasha on the other. Marcy had picked the center of the bench for her and Sprig so they could act as a buffer.

Things had gone alright, all things considered. Sasha's mood had improved a lot from that morning, and she hadn't been rude to Marcy's frog friends. Marcy had been afraid that she would snipe back at the frogs’ glares and insults, but so far she’d been incredibly patient with them. She and Sprig even seemed to be starting to warm up to each other, which Marcy was glad to see. Hopefully She could get Maddie and Ivy to see Sasha in a better light as well.

As they all finished their meals, Sprig suddenly perked up. "Oh! I have an idea!" He hopped down from the bench into the middle of the alcove and turned to address his audience with a flourish. "Since we're all here together we should go on an adventure!"

Ivy lit up. "Good idea! We should hurry too, Mom'll probably be back any second now." She glanced around surreptitiously.

"You have a place in mind?" Maddie asked.

Sprig waggled his fingers as he spoke with an air of mystery. "The catacombs of Old Newtopia!"

"Cool!" Maddie giggled mischievously and rubbed her hands together with glee. "I have the perfect bit of magic to show off down there."

"How do we get there? Is it nearby?" Ivy asked.

"I think so." Sprig looked up at Marcy. "Right Marcy?"

Marcy took a moment to crack the last of the ice in her mouth between her teeth and swallow. "It's right nearby, actually!" she explained cheerily. "It's located under the old park just down the block. I've wanted to go check it out, but haven't had the time." She stood up. "We should be able to get down into it from any sewer entrance."

"Awesome!" Ivy jumped up from the little stone bench and dusted off her overall dress. "Let's go!"

As the World Hoppers all got up to head out, Sasha also jumped to her feet. Ivy and Maddie looked at her skeptically, then over to Marcy.

Ah, she was being put in the middle again. She turned to Sasha. "Sash, you want to come along?" she asked gently.

"Sure." Sasha gave a casual shrug. "Why?" Her voice took on a faintly challenging edge.

"Nothing!" Marcy insisted quickly. "Just… doesn’t seem like your kind of thing."

Sasha nodded in agreement. "True, sewers and bones aren't exactly my idea of a good time. But I'm willing to give it a try."

"Shouldn't you wait for Mom to get back, to get that whole mess sorted?" Ivy tried.

Sasha's eyes narrowed, and Marcy worried that this was about to take a turn. After a moment, though, Sasha leaned back, crossed her arms, and raised one eyebrow. "Not like she's going to leave without you. I can handle it when we all get back."

"I thought you said you had better things to do," Maddie muttered as they started moving.

Sasha shrugged, apparently unbothered. "Hanging with Marcy definitely counts."

Marcy gave Ivy and Maddie a pleading look. She really didn't want this to be a fight.

The two frogs looked at Marcy, then each other. Both clearly had misgivings, but eventually their shoulders slumped. Ivy pointed at Sasha. "...Alright, but this doesn't make you a World Hopper. We all have to agree if you’re gonna be a member."

"... Duly noted." Sarcasm dripped from Sasha’s tone like a leaky faucet.

As they made their way towards the nearest sewer entrance, Marcy did her best to suppress the feeling that she was going to be split in two by sheer social anxiety.

It didn’t take them long to find a way down. Sasha was able to easily haul up a manhole cover close to the city park, beneath which laid the catacombs.

A short trip through the sewer lanes found them at the entrance to the catacombs, the ancient burial site of Newtopia. The stark shift from the practical civil engineering of the sewers to the gothic archways decorated with the cracked skulls and bones of amphibians long past was jarring, to say the least.

“Oh hey, neat, there’s some pouches of herbs hanging to help with the smell,” Ivy said appreciatively as they passed through the threshold.

Sasha unplugged her nose and gave a cautious sniff. “Smells like… incense in here.” Sasha added. “Thank frog.”

Marcy smiled at all of their reactions as she and Maddie continued forward, secure in their matching filter masks that had warded off the horrid smell of the sewer on their trip here.

Maddie hopped off her shoulder to the ground and walked over to one of the bone-filled alcoves that lined the hallway. Tiny plaques held the names of the honored dead, laid to rest in tiny alcoves, while the less honored dead served as a textured wallpaper, the soft glow of bioluminescent coral glowing every other tomb. Roots and weeds grew in along the ceiling, breaking in from the park above.

Maddie picked up a femur. “Hm, wrong shape…” She tossed it aside and picked up a foot. She tried to bend the joints but they snapped. “Too brittle.” She picked up a tiny bone and sniffed it. “I think this was a deep fried gulch,” she tossed it over her shoulder.

Marcy took in the morbid surroundings, fascinated, but she was quickly reabsorbed into sketching in her journal.

Sasha paused, looking at her before pulling down Marcy’s journal to get a look at what she was doing. “Sketching the dead?”

“Nope. Sewer plans.”

“Sewer plans?” Sasha asked, confused.

"Yeah. Sewers don’t have to be that horrid. I mean, the layout’s okay, but I don't think they've been repaired in centuries. Maybe even a millennia! The water was practically stagnant! And those foundations!" Marcy gestured back at a nearby archway, which was lanced through with deep cracks. "Gonna suggest a retrofitting of the sewers to Lady Olivia before several blocks of the city collapse in on themselves."

Sprig hopped up onto her shoulder. “Hey Marcy, any highlights we should be on the lookout for?” he asked.

“Oh! We could go see the tomb of Alduin Leviathan!” Marcy said excitedly; she flipped to some of her notes on Newtopian attractions. “Alduin is said to be the mythical first king of Amphibia, and these catacombs branched out from his tomb. They say that the floor is made of cast bronze in the shape of the landmasses of Amphibia, and the ceiling is filled with jewels meant to represent the night sky at the time of his death,” Marcy explained to an enraptured trio of frogs. “A lot of that has probably been burgled over the years, but it would still be cool to see. ”

“Nice. Royal bones.” Maddie said with a mischievous grin.

They came to a stop at a crossroads, each path winding up or down a set of stairs. “So… which way?” Ivy asked.

“Um…” Marcy tried to draw upon what she knew of the catacombs. However, she couldn’t think of a better idea than ‘right hand on the wall’ In terms of exploration. Marcy pointed at the different paths with her pencil. “Bap bap bap, that way.” She chose one on a whim, and the group of them made their way down the flight of stairs deeper into the mausoleum.

As they walked, Sprig took a position at the head of the group, scouting around corners. Maddie was examining another pile of bones when Ivy piped up. "Oh, wait, shoot, we're down a member. Is Anne back at the palace?"

"Oh, true. Should I send a paper golem to her?" Maddie pulled an orange vial out of her pocket.

Marcy's pencil lead snapped as she tensed up. Memories of soft brown eyes staring at her, full of betrayal, flashed through her mind, an old ache in her heart. The took a steadying breath, retrieved a fresh pencil from her bag, and continued to refine her blueprints. "No, she... we got separated pretty early on."

"You got separated? Separated how?" Maddie asked, clearly confused.

"Uh," Sprig called out from up ahead. "Hey guys! I think I see something cool!" He gave Ivy and Maddie a meaningful look and gestured for them to join him. The two girls looked worriedly up at Marcy but she averted her gaze, as familiar guilt and shame stewed in her stomach.

"... yeah, sure Sprig, wait up," Ivy said, a little stilted. She and Maddie jogged to catch up to him. As soon as they were out of earshot, Marcy saw them start to whisper urgently. Before they disappeared around a corner Marcy made eye contact with Sprig and mouthed a 'thank you'. He nodded and continued to field the girls' questions. Marcy was under no illusion of what they were probably going to talk about, but she was grateful that she didn’t have to explain.

As she heard the distant slaps of their frog feet, Marcy called out after them. "Don't go too far ahead, you guys!"

"Sure thing, Marcy!" Sprig called back after a moment.

Marcy nodded and tried to collect herself. Sasha fell into step alongside her as they walked along the cracked cement walkways. "You alright?"

"Y-Yeah..." Marcy said lamely. She glanced over at Sasha. Her eyes were sharp, but Marcy couldn't read them. "Something up?"

Sasha’s gaze shifted to one of kind consideration. "Nothing much... just admiring this side of you," Sasha said with a casual shrug. "You really fit right into that little frog family, don’t you?"

Marcy felt a swell of pride at the words – especially from Sasha, of all people. "...really? You… you don't think it's weird?" She clutched her journal self-consciously to her chest. Sasha had never had much patience for Anne's family obligations; she’d often encouraged her to blow off shifts at Thai Go or visits to the temple. It'd never really impacted Marcy considering her own home life, but she had been waiting for the other shoe to drop vis-à-vis her new family.

"Well, I didn't get it at first. I mean, obviously," For once, Sasha looked genuinely regretful. "But after seeing you all together, it’s like you've been a part of the family for years," she explained. Marcy felt her heart light up. Sasha continued at Marcy's lack of comment, "I mean, everything you did for your grandpa, tinkering with your sister on that robot... thing, even babysitting your brother and his friends. It’s real sweet."

Marcy slowed her pace as the comment sank in. Sasha looked back at her curiously.

Ah, there had been a miscommunication. Marcy tapped at her journal, trying to figure out the best way to address this.

Her train of thought was interrupted as Sasha tapped on the top of the page Marcy had been staring at. “Earth to Marce? I guess some things never change,” Sasha said wryly. “We should really catch up.” She turned and strode towards the corner. "So, anything else we should be on the lookout for down here?"

Marcy scrambled to catch up and joined Sasha at the top of a staircase that had been just around the bend. She caught Sasha by the arm before she could start down the stairs, and swallowed nervously as Sasha turned to look at her. “Sasha… they’re not just Sprig's friends, they're mine too."

Sasha gave her a withering look that sent her anxiety up another notch. "Marcy, they're like, eight."

"They're ten," Marcy corrected gently.

Sasha rolled her eyes. "So they’re fifth graders instead of third graders. What’s the difference?" she said.

Marcy felt an old part of her resurface. A part of her that would just agree with whatever Sasha said – anything to stay on her good side. A part of her that worried that one wrong step would make Sasha rethink keeping her around. Marcy wasn’t particularly proud of it; it had routinely put Anne into uncomfortable positions in the past. Even with that shame, she still had to fight against it. If the last few weeks were anything to go by, then her and Sasha’s friendship was a lot stronger than she had given it credit for back on Earth. And if it wasn’t… it would be better to find out now.

"They're my friends," Marcy reiterated shakily. "They're really cool and they were some of the first frogs in Wartwood, besides the Plantars, to treat me kindly," she explained. Sasha's eyes flashed with judgment and Marcy instinctively averted her eyes. "I like hanging out with them. If you don’t want to... I get it. We can hang out later if you like, just the two of us," she offered.

Marcy tapped nervously on her journal’s binding as Sasha looked at her in quiet contemplation, expression unreadable. When it became clear that no response was forthcoming, Marcy turned and walked down the stairs to rejoin the others, clutching her journal tightly to her chest. After a moment, she heard Sasha’s footsteps following along behind her, and she felt a conflicted ache in her chest.

She was quickly distracted by something up ahead. As they reached the bottom of the stairs, Marcy saw Sprig and Ivy… arguing?

"I just don't get why we shouldn't keep our positions from our raid on the tower, I'm a great scout!" Sprig argued, pointing a thumb at himself.

"Sure, if we were out in the wilds or sneaking around," Ivy argued back. She looked more confused than angry. "But my mom has been teaching me all about how to circumvent traps, and if that trip wire was anything to go by, then this whole place might be booby trapped!"

"She has a pretty good eye for these things, Sprig," Maddie agreed. "You should let Vee take the lead."

Marcy glanced down at the floor and saw a thin tripwire stretched across the corridor. It led into the wall, presumably to some unseen contraption. What were boobytraps doing down here?

She looked back to Sprig, who seemed nervous for some reason. Marcy really felt like they were arguing about the wrong thing. It wasn't about who was better at spotting traps, the real question was who was laying down traps in a graveyard? An overzealous graves keeper? "Sprig, wait a sec."

"No, listen, watch, I can keep a close eye out for trip wires," he said. Before the others could argue, Sprig turned to stalk forward across the stone. He’d only made it a few paces before his foot landed on a cobblestone that sunk unnaturally into the ground. "Whuh oh-"

Marcy heard a mechanical whir behind the stone and bone of the catacombs, and everything descended into chaos. Little bolts whistled out of concealed holes in the skulls that covered the walls, and the sounds of metal plinking against stone echoed through the hallway.

"Gah!" Sprig dodged out of the way as the air filled with arrows. Marcy stumbled back as a skull to her right fired a bolt which flew past, inches from her face, and fell on her butt. As chaos filled the air she quickly tapped out a one-three-two pattern on the cover of her journal.

The world didn’t stop or slow, but details faded from her perception, leaving a dull gray void filled with streaking yellow projectiles. Three small green Ally wireframes had already leapt clear of the danger; they had jumped straight to the ceiling, above the room’s hazards. She evaluated the projectiles; dangerous and pointed, but not very large. They had a strange shimmer of liquid on their tips; poison? She heard a click from above and Her eyes darted up to track an incoming bolt.

The book in Her hands was thick enough for Her purposes; She snapped it closed and raised it to shield Her face. A bolt punched through the front cover, stopping just short of Her eyes. Success. She began to climb to her feet, but was abruptly yanked to the side by Her remaining Ally, who had ripped up a piece of concrete to use as cover. The green wireframe marking her as an Ally shifted to a bright magenta, and a summary of her abilities popped up and organized themselves by relevance. Her ally inquired about Her well-being.

"̡Į'̴m͞ fi̴ne̵.̀" She assured. She needed this Ally to focus on more important things. She turned to look for an escape route, but two more projectiles, smoking and spherical, rolled along the ground towards them. There wasn’t sufficient time to get to them; She positioned herself to shield her Ally from potential shrapnel, but instead of an explosion there was a loud hiss as a cloud burst from the projectiles. Smoke bombs? No, powder, which clung to Her clothes. Her Ally abruptly went limp and collapsed to the floor, fading back into a dull green.

She dragged her Ally further out of the line of fire and propped her up against the wall. A list of possible causes appeared in front of Her, then rapidly simplified as previously irrelevant details sharpened into crystal clarity as She evaluated her. Her Ally was covered in a fine layer of powder; her eyes darted around in panic, but her pupils weren’t dilated and her muscles were totally relaxed.

"̷S͟p͟e̵a̵k͢.͘"

"Marcy, what the hell-”

Ally could breathe and was aware of her surroundings. All symptoms pointed to a type of powder often used by Newtopian criminals who wished to incapacitate their targets without killing them or rendering them unconscious. It did not suppress nerve endings, but still robbed the victim of movement. Useful for interrogation. It had to be inhaled; Her mask had protected Her. It could take hours to filter out of a target’s system naturally. She needed Her Ally on her feet now.

She rapidly sorted through Her medical seed kit and plucked out a pair of sneezing nettle seeds. It wasn’t perfect, but excessive voiding of the sinuses should render Her Ally Functional in a matter of moments.

She fed druidic power into the seeds, which started to sprout, but before She could apply the treatment, She spotted a projectile headed straight towards her through the haze of pollen. She didn’t have space to avoid it, so she used Her arm to absorb it, hoping to minimize the damage. As it tore into Her arm, she realized it was different from the bolts from the walls; it looked like a blowgun dart.

Her vision warped as Enemies emerged from the cloud of pollen. She tried to reach for Her Ally’s sword, but Her coordination was impaired, and She collapsed against the wall instead.

Marcy’s vision faded back to normal as she lost focus; the sharp sting of pain from her arm suddenly took most of her focus. She made brief, panicked eye contact with Sasha before everything went dark.

Chapter 16: Catacomb Chaos - Part 2

Chapter Text

Hop Pop stepped up into the main cabin of the Sundews’ wagon. It was a little nicer than the fwagon his family had called home for the journey to Newtopia, aside from the splintering dent in the side.

"Tea?" Felicia said distractedly while dunking a kettle into a rain barrel.

"You don't need to bother on my account."

"It's not just for you," Felicia assured. "My nerves are shot from running into that blonde human."

Ah, that made sense. "Alright then, sure, I wouldn't mind a cup. Thank you."

Felicia nodded and poured some of the water back out of the kettle, then grabbed a familiar red boil bead from a nearby tin to toss inside. As the kettle rapidly came to a boil, she turned and started to measure tea leaves out of another small tin.

Hop Pop laid his snoozing granddaughter onto the little breakfast nook, along with the box they had picked up in the marketplace. He looked around the Sundews’ wagon. Fragrant boxes full of tea leaves were haphazardly stacked against the walls to keep a clear path through the wagon open. A pair of hammocks hung in the back corner that seemed to mark Maddie and Ivy's living space.

Next to the hammocks were a pair of shelves, filled with a number of charming knickknacks. One held a shiny sparkling rock, a unique spiral shell, and a horn of some kind of creature. The other was decorated with a grotesque leather book that Hop Pop recognized from Marcy’s first foray into the dark arts. There were a number of potions and curse pouches in a box that was secured to the wall. In the midst of all that occult nonsense, the most confusing item was a tiny wooden figure of a toad soldier. It wasn't even in any kind of pose, it just looked sort of confused and surprised. Something about the figure put Hop Pop on edge and he returned his attention to the table as Felicia set a cup down for him.

"Let it steep for a bit," Felicia advised. She took a seat in the booth in front of a large, open, badly-frayed ledger book.

Hop Pop slid into the little booth across from her. She fixed her tea with milk and sugar without even looking as she mumbled numbers under her breath. Her eyes remained fixed on the book as she nudged the sugar towards Hop Pop, which he took gratefully. “So, where are the girls?”

“With Marcy and Sprig… and Captain Waybright, I suppose,” Felicia explained distractedly. She took a long sip of her tea.

Hop Pop hummed at that. “And what are you working on?”

“The captain offered to reimburse me for the damages done during the raid on Wartwood…” Felicia said, rolling her neck.

Hop Pop winced at that. "How is Wartwood?" he asked, worried. He’d been far too busy worrying about the kids to stress about things out of his control.

"Intact," Felicia explained. "Least it was when we left. The town has survived worse, which you know all too well."

Hop Pop nodded, relieved at the news. "Thank you for what you did that night, Felicia."

"You know we look out for our own, Hopediah. Though it would have been nice to know about everything ahead of time," Felicia said. She glanced up from her work to give him a pointed look.

Hop Pop nodded and rubbed at his forehead. "You know how the town saw Marcy. I didn't want her to be further ostracized."

"I can understand not telling everyone," she conceded. She maintained her sharp stare. "But you should have at least told Aldor and me. Once we got the full story out of the girls, we had to scramble to get them out of the valley without drawing too much attention."

Hop Pop frowned but nodded. "You're right. I was hoping to keep it quiet, but I should have let the two of you in on what happened that night. I'm sorry, Felicia."

Felicia took in a slow breath and let out a sigh as she returned to her bookkeeping. "Alright. I'm just glad things have worked out. Congratulations on slipping the noose, by the way."

Hop Pop chuckled darkly but spoke lightly. "Well thank you, I much prefer my ascot," he said, straightening it out.

"Looks... stupid..." Polly droned in her sleep then shifted in her bucket and settled down again.

Hop Pop rolled his eyes and patted the Pollywog on the head. "All that said, we should probably go back and meet up with the kids, right?"

"In a bit. I trust Marcy to keep them from getting into too much trouble," Felicia said with weary confidence.

Sprig clung to the ceiling of the catacombs as a storm of arrows filled the space he had just vacated. Instinct had served him and his friends well; all the arrows were aimed at the ground, probably meant for newts.

His sister, however, lacked their natural ability to either stick to the roof or jump there to begin with. He watched fearfully as her eyes flashed green and she blocked one bolt with her journal.

He was relieved to see Sasha pull Marcy behind a chunk of stone away from the maelstrom. Then there was a muffled bang and a cloud of purple powder enveloped their hiding spot. It was hard to see through the haze, but Sprig could make out half a dozen figures darting into the smog and carrying off the two humans.

"Marcy!" Sprig’s panicked shout went unanswered and he launched himself to the floor.

"Sprig, wait!" Ivy cried after him, but Sprig had already landed and bolted down the corridor.

Sprig hopped back and forth through the hail of arrows as the purple powder settled on the ground. Once he cleared the firing range, he sprinted after the distant sound of retreating footsteps. "Come back here with my sister!" Sprig yelled as he dashed through the catacombs. To his dismay, the tunnels quickly turned labyrinthine, and before long he could no longer hear the footsteps of his sister’s assailants.

"Sprig... back... we... help!" Sprig heard Maddie’s voice echo sporadically from behind him. While he definitely didn't want to lose Marcy, he had also hoped to lead the way and show off some of his skills after he messed up.

Still, with no trail to follow and his friends possibly lost in the corridors behind him, there was no reason to continue on. He hopped back towards the site of the ambush. Maddie knelt next to a stone archway. She wore a worried expression as she dug through Marcy’s bag, which still had a light dusting of the purple powder on it. "Guys, I lost the guys who took Marcy and-" As he got closer, he spotted Ivy and his stomach lurched. She had a set of white bandages wrapped around her leg, already stained with little splotches of red. "Ivy!" Sprig dropped to his knees next to her; his hands hovered uselessly. "What happened?"

"She tried to follow you," Maddie explained sourly. She bit off a length of the gauze and wrapped it around Ivy’s leg to hold the bandages in place. "It's just a graze," she explained, then gave a disappointed sigh. "I haven't finished my new healing potion yet."

Sprig reached into one of his vest pockets. Nope, that’s my slingshot. He reached into the other one, where a little vial was sewn into place. He pulled out the berry red potion – Marcy had gifted one to everyone in the family. "This one, you mean?" Sprig asked hopefully.

"That's the stuff! Here." Maddie snatched it from his hand, uncorked it, and handed it to Ivy, who quickly drained it.

The tension in Ivy’s shoulders disappeared and she sighed with relief. "Ah, that is much better." She stood up and gently put weight on her injured leg. "That stung something terrible."

"Ivy, I'm so sorry. I just- I saw them take Marcy and-" Sprig spluttered as his gut twisted with guilt.

Ivy exchanged a glance with Maddie, then awkwardly smiled at Sprig. "It's... okay. I get it, you were worried about Marcy." Sprig nodded, but still felt awful. "Speaking of, time is of the essence. Maddie, do you have a way to track her?"

Maddie produced a little orange vial with a strip of paper wrapped around it, which she folded into the shape of a bird. A drop of orange liquid and a whispered request later, it flapped its way through the catacombs, the World Hoppers hot on its tail. Sprig recognized most of the corridors until they were stopped by a wall of skulls.The little origami figure flew straight into the eye socket of one and didn't come out.

"Is Marcy in there?" Sprig hopped up to the wall and peered through the eye in question, but only saw darkness.

"Must be a secret door," Ivy theorized. She hummed thoughtfully to herself, then ran her hands along the wall until she found a toad skull, out of place in the collection of newt skulls that made up the wall. Ivy squinted at it for a moment, then broke off a piece of glowing coral from the wall and held it up to illuminate the skull. "... Maddie, is this magic junk?"

Sprig pressed in next to Ivy and saw that there were a series of patterns and markings carved into the skull. "This looks a lot like the stuff that Marcy's been studying lately!"

Maddie put a hand on each of their shoulders and pried them apart. "Let the expert through." Ivy held up the coral to provide light for her to read with. Maddie hummed to herself and ran a finger across the intricately inscribed patterns. "I'd need hours to figure out what it would do. But I can tell it needs a blood offering of some kind to trigger the ritual."

Sprig frowned and thought back to the Croaking Daughter; he didn't want to see either of his friends hurt again. He grit his teeth and stuck his hand into the skull’s mouth. Ivy lunged past Maddie to yank his hand away as the skull’s teeth snapped shut, narrowly missing him. He looked at her, confused, but she was already looking contemplatively at Maddie.

"You said this was triggered by blood, right? Not the actual biting?" Ivy asked. Maddie nodded in affirmation.

Ivy reached down to unwind the bandage from her leg. The wound was completely healed from the potion, but the bandage was still spotted with blood. She tossed the bandage into the toad skull’s mouth. The faint lines carved into the skull lit up with a crimson glow, then spread across the wall in a web of arcane sigils. The wall of skulls became hazy and faintly transparent. Ivy grabbed her friends’ hands and pulled them through the wall; Sprig felt a faint chill that reminded him of the fog in the bogs back home. They all looked back once they were through. After a moment, the wall gradually solidified back into a barrier.

"Alright, come on. Let’s find Marcy and her friend," Ivy said encouragingly.

Sprig and Maddie nodded, and all three of them sprinted down the narrow corridor. Sprig felt useless, especially with how well Maddie and Ivy were able to support each other. He would just have to try harder.

Ivy glanced back down the hallway. "Hey, how do you think those guys got through that door?" she asked.

"Probably have some clever work around like us," Maddie offered with a shrug.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow," one of the kidnappers, a blue newt, said as one of his companions bandaged up the arm that got bit by that weird door. "I hate being the key. Why couldn’t we use one of them?" The newt gestured towards Sasha and Marcy.

"Claw, you haven't needed to be the key in over a month," said the newt bandaging him. “Besides, if you’d been paying attention during the briefing, you’d know that the Leader wanted them unharmed.”

Sasha was grateful she could still roll her eyes, though that was all she could manage. She looked around the room; she and Marcy had been propped up against the wall in a large, ostentatiously decorated chamber. Hundreds of lit, melty, wax candles covered every available surface. Like the rest of this weird graveyard, the walls were lined with little alcoves filled with newt bones. However, unlike the halls they’d been exploring before, each alcove was framed with a set of moth-eaten curtains, and complex reliefs were carved into the stone. Interesting as Marcy would probably find them, Sasha found her attention drawn to a massive newt skeleton, nearly twelve feet tall, that loomed over a stone altar in the center of the room. His frame dwarfed the squabbling idiots that had dragged her here; his head nearly grazed the chamber’s ceiling, which was heavily overgrown with tree roots.

Marcy had said that the park was established above the catacombs, and it looked like the root system of some very old tree had dislodged most of the stones that made up the roof as they wove through the ceiling.

Then there were the people who had captured them. The twelve that had ambushed them had intermingled with eight others that had been here when they arrived. Each of them wore a black hooded robe which hid their eyes as they moved about preparing... something. Sasha grimaced. Everything about this screamed ‘cult.’ If she had time, she could manipulate a bunch of newts with a cult mindset, but she heard the distinctive sound of something being sharpened with a whetstone, which meant they were short on time.

"Marcy!" Sasha hissed. "Marcy, wake up!"

No response. Marcy remained slumped over, head hanging against her chest.

Sasha looked to the leader of the proceedings and tried to get a read. There was a bit of bandit chic with his weird skull mask in addition to his robes. He had mostly been ordering around people and looking at an old scroll. "Bring one of the vessels," he commanded a nearby pair of newts.

The newts approached them and started to angle towards Marcy.

Sasha sized up the newt and used every scrap of social knowledge she had about the culture around Newtopia to quickly prod at what was probably his biggest insecurity. "Ah, hey there buddy. Something happen to your tail?" Sasha pushed as much mockery as she could into her tone. The newt, who was the only kidnapper whose tail did not drag across the ground beneath their robe, looked up.

"W-What?" the newt said, looking hurt.

"I asked what happened to it?" Sasha said with a raised eyebrow. "I mean, surely it got cut off or something. It can't possibly be that short and stubby normally, right?"

The short tailed newt’s hands reached back to the base of their spine self consciously while the other patted them comfortingly on the shoulder. The second newt stared daggers at Sasha and pointed an accusing finger at her. "Hey, what's your problem?"

"My problem? Nothing. Seems like Stubby here has the problem." Oh wow, he's tearing up already.

The supportive newt started rubbing his friend's back. "Hey, man, you are more than the length of your tail," he said in a hushed tone. He scowled back at Sasha. "You, on the other hand - you are going first. Jerk."

The two newts grabbed Sasha under the arms and hauled her towards the stone altar at the center of the room. As they dragged her along the ground, she caught a glimpse of her confiscated sword leaning against one of the pews.

Once they’d placed her on the altar, they pushed her legs into place and crossed her arms over her chest. A bunch of newts hurriedly drew out a big circle in chalk around the altar.

The masked newt crouched down next to one of the cultists. "You missed a line here..." he intoned calmly. He took the chalk and redrew the symbol. "We must be exact. One mistake may cost us our lives."

Sasha carefully watched the newt who was giving the instruction. She couldn't glean much from his clothing, but his voice had a ring much closer to nobility than the street Newtopians Sasha was more used to. Maybe if she could figure out what this was all about she could buy enough time for this purple crap to wear off. "Hey, so what exactly is the plan here?" Sasha asked.

As the leader stood again with the scroll in hand, he looked down at Sasha, eyes staring back into hers in consideration. "Captain Waybright. Paralysis holding up?" He asked with a tilt of the head.

Sasha glared flatly at him. "Unfortunately. Didn’t think you could take me in a fair fight?"

The newt chuckled. "No, not remotely. We know better than to underestimate the Unconquered Sun." He said her moniker with a certain hostile reverence. "And our mission is too important for fairness."

"Okay, let’s hear it," Sasha prodded and rolled her eyes.

“Hear what?”

“Whatever nonsense you believe in.”

The newt scowled down at her. “What makes you think I’ll-”

“Oh, sorry, I get it,” Sasha said a little louder. She needed to buy time. If she got him monologuing that would be great, but best case she’d manage to get some of his followers to question him. “You’re embarrassed to say why you’re murdering children.”

Sasha flinched as a fist slammed home next to her head before the newt bent down to hiss in her face. “You are no child. You are a harbinger. A tool that must be broken.”

“Oh, I’m the tool here?” Sasha jeered and was rewarded by a chuckle from a cultist not too far off.

The cultist leader's eyes shifted menacingly back into the room, but no one stepped forward. He turned back to Sasha and his visage twisted into a snarling smile. “Tell me captain, have you heard of the olms?” The masked newt pulled a curved knife from his belt, testing its point. A single drop of blood beaded up from his fingertip.

"Nope."

He glared at her momentarily, and Sasha heard the faint sound of grinding teeth. He took a deep breath and then spoke as if he was quoting something. "Three stars burning bright come from beyond to expel the night. Should they fight or embrace the fall? Their choice will determine the fate of all."

Sasha looked at him, unimpressed. "... Is that supposed to mean something to me?" she asked.

"It is a prophecy from the olms," he ground out. "Words spoken long ago and passed down by our order. We have stood vigilant, and now the day has finally arrived..."

Sasha had let the sing song words wash over her before, but now she thought back on them. She mumbled the couplet back to herself. "Three stars... beyond... you think this prophecy is about me and my friends?" The newt nodded. Sasha stared at him blankly for a moment, then smirked. "Then what's all this for? Sounds like you need us."

Behind his mask, the newt's features twisted with disgust. "Yes, I suppose it does sound like that, doesn't it?" His voice dripped with venomous contempt as he looked over her. "Like we are all helpless before your wake, efts waiting for your Strength, and Kindness, and Wisdom to save us." In a flash of steel the newt buried the knife into the stone inches away from her head; the reflection on the warped blade framed both of their faces. "Well, know this: we will not allow the whims of outsiders to decide our fates. I will see to it."

Sasha held his gaze for a few moments, refusing to look away as she gathered the nerve to retort. "Then why haven't you killed us?" she challenged.

He glared resentfully at her, but eventually regained his composure and retreated from Sasha's vision. "The power within you is dangerous. We can't be sure what will happen if you die with it still inside you. It could lash out and destroy the city, or escape to your absent friend. Fortunately, our forebears saw fit to show us methods of containing that power. Methods which we are preparing now." He pulled his knife from the altar, finding the tip bent out of shape from trying to stab it into stone. He sighed heavily. "If you excuse me, I need to find a new knife for the ritual." His footsteps receded into the distance.

Sasha's eyes went over to Marcy who was still tied up and propped against the wall. Okay. This was bad. These people were total lunatics who were going to kill them for some dumb prophecy. Sasha's body wasn't getting any feeling back anytime soon. Marcy was still knocked out. They hadn’t told anyone they were coming down here, which meant-

Sasha’s train of thought was interrupted as she saw something flutter down onto Marcy's shoulder and start bouncing around on top of her. It was one of those little origami cranes that Marcy had shown Sasha when explaining her paper potion. Sasha caught a bit of movement from above and looked up to see three little frogs scramble across the ceiling and hide behind one of the tree roots.

Sasha internally groaned as she realized that their lives depended on the actions of an armful of ten year olds.

Sprig, Maddie, and Ivy peered out from their hiding spot. The gnarled tree root gave them a good view of the activities of the cultists. Sprig looked worriedly between Marcy, who was still knocked out in a corner of the room, and Sasha, who was arranged on some weird altar with a strange circle drawn around her.

"Yep. That's definitely a ritual circle," Maddie whispered to the other two.

"What's it for?" Sprig asked.

"Dunno." Maddie shrugged. "It's not one I recognize, I would need to spend a lot of time studying it to figure out what exactly it's supposed to do." She pointed to a little line of runes. "That line there, though, I recognize. That's a trigger rune line. It’ll activate if something dies inside the ritual circle."

Maddie didn't have to specify who was on the chopping block.

"The good news is that they’re still putting together the ritual, so we have some time. It looks like they weren't quite prepared for all this."

"There's a lot of them down there..." Ivy said under her breath. "Okay, so what should we do first?"

"Well, getting them up and moving would be for the best," Sprig said, rubbing his chin. "Can we just shake Marcy awake?"

"I saw some kind of blow dart in her arm when they were carrying her away," Maddie offered. "I have an all purpose anti-toxin with me, but I need a sample of whatever she was hit with for it to be effective."

Sprig scanned through the crowd of cultists. Some drew on the ground, while others rushed this way and that with armfuls of different materials. Then he spotted what he was looking for. A small gathering of the robed cultists surrounded a newt who was proudly showing off a blow gun and telling a story. A dusting of the purple stuff that had taken down Sasha was stuck to the bottom of his robes.

The lead cultist guy yelled at the group to get back to work, and the one with the blowgun slunk off to one side.

"Alright, I can get that." Sprig said with confidence and started to hop across the roots that hung above the chamber.

"Sprig!" a hushed whisper called for him to turn back, but he knew he could do it. He crawled above where the cultist with the blow gun was keeping lookout at one of the other entrances to the room alongside a second guard.

Sprig might not be the best at magic or traps or whatever, but he had been sneaking around predators for his whole childhood. He slipped from the tree root to drop behind a beat-up old curtain in one fluid motion. He shivered at the sensation of preserved skulls digging into his back as he shimmied along the wall towards his target. Once he was close enough, he dove beneath a wooden bench near his quarry.

The cultists looked down the empty hallway.

The newt was leaning against the stone doorway, mumbling to the other guard. "I don't know, it just feels like the Leader doesn't really appreciate us."

"Snake, come on," said her counterpart. "You know he thinks we're all important to the master plan."

"No Fang, really. I mean, we were able to capture both Strength and Wit and he hasn't even congratulated us yet," Snake responded hotly.

"Snake, you know that the leader just isn't that kind of person. He shows his appreciation in other ways. Like when he got everyone lunch the other week after the sacrifice."

Snake sighed and nodded. "I know. It's just… a 'good job' would go a long way, you know?"

"I know." Fang said with an understanding nod. "Well hey. Snake, that was a great shot that knocked out Wit."

Snake smiled. "Thank you! Man, I wish we could know each other's real identity outside of the group, I'd love to hang out with you some time."

"Hey now-" Fang tsked playfully. "Keep up that talk and we'll be sacrificing you one of these weeks."

Sprig blanched as the two of them snickered. After meeting Marcy and clearing up his misunderstanding with Maddie, he had tried to keep an open mind, but he was just never going to understand cultists.

He saw the blow gun at Snake’s side and saw the fletching of a dart sticking out of the back. As Sprig considered how he could get the blowdart he remembered Marcy and Sasha's story about stealing bread when he had turned them into kids. He'd need a little distraction!

Sprig tilted on his side so that he could pull out his slingshot from his vest. He braced himself on his stomach, pulled his slingshot back, and waited for the perfect opportunity to loose his bullet.

"Oh, Snake, did you hear that there's some crazy moon cult up in the palace?" Fang asked innocently.

Snake smirked. "No, I don't think I have."

"Yeah, I hear they're a bunch of Luna-tics"

Snake started to laugh at the joke, while Fang closed her eyes, proud. Sprig launched the sling bullet clear over their heads and into the skull laden hallway beyond. As it cracked against bone far off and then clatter on the stone, the two watchers paused in their conversation and looked out into the hallway.

"Someone there?" Fang called out. Her hand hovered over a knife at her side.

Sprig took the opportunity to slip out from under the wooden bench and over to Snake. She stepped forward into the hall, looking suspiciously about. As she stepped away, Sprig plucked the blowgun from its little holster and scurried for the nearest curtain.

Sprig clutched the blowgun to his chest from behind the curtain, still shaking from the adrenaline. He listened for a moment to see if he had been detected.

"Huh, don't hear anything... must have been some sewer beetle," Snake said. "You got anymore jokes?"

Sprig slowly let out a held breath through his nostrils and started to climb up the wall of newt skulls back towards the rafters, the curtain providing cover. As he got up there he looked to where Ivy and Maddie were waiting.

Sprig jumped to one of the branches and wiggled the blowgun at his friends. "Got it!" He tossed it to Maddie, who took it, extracted the dart and started to break it apart to get at the contents.

Ivy smiled pensively as Sprig moved from branch to branch, and seemed to take a moment to consider her words. "Good job, Sprig, but-"

Distractedly trying to figure out what was wrong, Sprig's foot landed on a dry root, and it snapped under his weight, sending him tumbling towards the ground. Ivy dove to try to catch him, but just ended up being pulled down with him.

"Waah!" the two of them called out as they fell through the open air to a central point inside the chamber.

Sprig jumped up first and pulled Ivy to her feet as he looked around. The entire room full of cultists were looking at them in surprise; all talk and work had ceased as they gawked at the sudden appearance of two frogs in their midst.

The masked newt who had been talking to Sasha earlier was the first to respond. "Ah, wonderful. I was worried that on such short notice we'd have to use one of our own for the blood sacrifices." He pointed at the two of them. "Seize the frogs!"

Sprig and Ivy both hopped to their feet and stood back to back as the ring of newts started to close in around them.

"If you have anything up your sleeve, now’s the time!" Ivy called out.

"Punching?" Sprig offered, but as he glanced over his shoulder he realized that Ivy hadn't been talking to him. A bottle sailed in from the rafters above. It soared over Sasha and shattered, splashing a rich, rust-colored potion onto the massive newt skeleton that loomed over the chamber.

After a few moments, the dripping potion started to adhere and congeal around the joints and spine of the skeleton. Its shoulders shifted slightly and it rolled its neck with an ominous creaking noise. “Bone golem!” Its hollow gaze snapped toward the sound of Maddie’s raspy voice from above. “Accept orders from only me! Attack the newts!”

The bone golem looked down at the group of cultists that had begun to surround Sprig and Ivy. It shoved aside the ancient sword that it had nobly grasped in death and lurched from its tomb, clambering like a beast towards the leader newt. He looked on in confusion and horror right up until a bony arm swept him aside like he was made of twigs.

“Protect the leader!” The call went up as cultists seized whatever they could get their hands on and swarmed the skeleton. They quickly surrounded it, smashing at its joints to try to break it apart. The golem fought back viciously, clawing and biting at every newt in reach. When several cultists tried to wrestle it to the ground, it reared up and slammed itself and its assailants against the floor. Bits of dirt and gravel shook loose from the ceiling at the impact.

Unfortunately, there were still plenty of cultists who kept their attention on the frogs.

“Come on, kids, it’ll only hurt a little~” one taunted. He dove towards them, arms outstretched. Sprig darted to the side, drawing his slingshot while Ivy jumped over the diving newt, springboarding off of his head and towards another cultist, who she slugged in the stomach with a savage yell.

Several more cultists moved to surround Ivy, and Sprig peppered them with sling bullets to get their attention before darting away. He nailed one in the center of the forehead, and they dropped to the ground, stunned. Another he lured into the path of the rampaging bone golem, who obligingly sent the robed newt flying into the wall.

Sprig glanced towards Ivy, and panicked when he saw she was still surrounded by a pair of armed cultists. He ran towards the melee. “Don’t worry, Ivy, I’m-” he was interrupted as his path was blocked by another cultist armed with a dagger, and he had to hop to safety on the wall.

A cultist armed with a skull-topped staff swung wildly at Ivy’s head. She ducked underneath the blow, then surged forward, grabbed the newt by the hood, braced her feet against his chest, and slammed her forehead into his snout. He dropped the staff and staggered backwards, clutching at his face. Ivy used one foot to hook the staff off of the ground into her waiting hands, then spun towards a second newt that was trying to sneak up behind her. They lunged towards her, but were stopped as Ivy thrust the butt of the staff into their stomach. They doubled over in pain, which brought their head low enough for Ivy to swing the staff and crack them across the jaw. The skull on top of the staff shattered on impact. Ivy spun the staff over her head, already searching for other targets to fight.

Sprig gaped at the display for a moment, but shook it off when he spotted another pair of cultists climbing the wall to get at Maddie, who was too distracted by mixing an antidote to see them coming.

"Maddie! Lookout!" Sprig nocked a sling bullet, pulled back, and fired at the one closest to her.

"Huh? Whaaa!" Maddie looked up from her stirring in confusion and as his shot whizzed just past her head, dazing the cultist behind her. It also startled Maddie enough that she fell off the branch she was perched on. Sprig winced as she hit the stone floor, body curled protectively around the antitoxin.

"Maddie!" Sprig and Ivy both sprung from their respective places in the chamber to help her back to her feet.

"Sprig! What the frog was that for?" Maddie asked. Before he could explain, a meat cleaver thunked into one of the wooden pews next to them. "We need to get to Marcy! Bone Golem! Defend us!" The golem heard the call and turned. One of its arms had been wrenched away by the cultists, but it was otherwise intact, and it shook cultists from its frame like fleas as it moved to their defense. Maddie paced, still stirring the potion rapidly. "...eight, nine, forty, one, two, three…"

They scrambled towards the wall that Marcy was slumped against. Sprig, Ivy, and the golem took up position between Maddie and the cultists. Sprig worriedly checked his dwindling supply of stones. "How much longer till that's ready?" he asked.

"Need to stir one hundred times or else the potion won't work. Sixty! One, two…"

Sasha watched the fight, completely baffled. As the frogs fought against the dozen or so cultists still standing, the image of the three of them storming the southern tower finally took tangible shape in her mind.

She wasn't totally sure what the plan was, but she was pretty sure that whatever it was would wake up Marcy. Hopefully she'd figure out a way to fix Sasha and they could all get out of here together.

Sasha heard the sound of a wet newt hand slap against the stone. The leader who had been hilariously slapped aside earlier struggled back to his feet. His mask was cracked and his black silk robe was scuffed and covered in dirt and chalk dust. His eyes were wild as he surveyed the chaos that had consumed his little clubhouse.

Sasha couldn't help but needle him a little. "So, is this a part of your little ritual too?"

His eyes shifted to the ground where the intricate chalk writing had been scuffed and defaced in the chaos. His breath was unsteady for a moment, but he slowly calmed his breathing and turned to Sasha. The fury in his eyes gave way to cold determination, which grew stronger with every breath. Sasha didn't like that.

His hand dropped to draw a fresh ritual dagger from his belt.

"Woah, woah! Didn’t you have some super important ritual to do?!" Sasha couldn’t keep the panic out of her voice as the blade came into view.

The cult leader chuckled ruefully. "The ritual was a precaution. You and your friends’ deaths is the only true requirement we have. I wanted to do this right." He held the blade high above his head. "But if I must roll the dice, I will not shirk that responsibility." He took a breath, as if savoring the moment.

Sasha tried again to force herself to move. She felt a spark of power that quickly guttered out. It was like revving up an engine with no car attached to it. Fear seeped into her as her helplessness became more clear.

"With your death, may fate be severed." The cult leader grit his teeth and swung down.

Sasha clenched her eyes shut and failed to suppress a whimper. However, instead of the sound of steel sinking into flesh, there was a loud metallic scrape.

"No you don't!"

Sasha opened her eyes to see that the Squirt had jumped up onto the cultists leader's head and yanked him back away from the altar.

"You little brat!" The leader waved his arm in an attempt to dislodge the frog. When that failed, he tried to raise the knife again. This time Sprig snapped his tongue out, hitting the edge and diverting it just enough to miss Sasha's stomach.

Sasha spared a glance back to the fight on the other side of the chamber. The giant was down on one knee, the other leg broken by blunt force, swiping at any cultist in range with one arm. Ivy was fighting off others from the other side, and Maddie was feeding Marcy some kind of potion.

Sasha's attention flicked back to Sprig as the cultist tried a third time to stab at her. Sprig clung to the arm holding the knife and kicked at the newt’s head. After a moment, the leader finally managed to grab the frog by the back of his neck. He snarled at him and threw him hard against the stone floor below the dais. There was a muted thump and Sasha heard him gasp for air. "Sprig!" She sneered up at the leader, jaw clenched tight enough that her teeth threatened to crack under the pressure.

The Leader was finished with any kind of flourish or theatrics. His hair, once hidden neatly behind the hood, was now disheveled and frayed. He raised his knife a final time, and Sasha glared up at him with all the hatred she could muster. The moment stretched on and the look of rage on the cult leader’s face abruptly shifted to confusion and fear as he tried and failed to jerk the knife down towards her.

"No, no!" The leader looked up and Sasha followed his gaze up to his arm, where a thick wooden root was lashed around his wrist, growing downwards and squeezing like a constrictor snake.

"́L̀E̷ĄV͏E.͞ ̸TH̶EM͘. ̸AL̀O̴NE!̡” Marcy’s voice reverberated through the chamber as the root system in the ceiling burst into a flurry of motion. Roots dove from the ceiling like the tentacles of a kraken. Some cultists were swatted across the room, while others were grabbed and slammed into nearby surfaces or flung through the air. Panicked screams filled the room as the newts scrambled to get away.

There was a faint creaking sound as the root curled around the leader’s wrist grew longer and squeezed tighter. "No! No! Stop!" He tried to wiggle his way free of the tree root, but his efforts were futile. Sasha looked towards Marcy, expecting to find the blank, emotionless stare that she had seen during the ambush. Instead, Marcy’s face was twisted into a rictus of fury as the newt was slowly lifted into the air. His hand spasmed in pain and the knife in his grip clattered to the floor. "You can't! Let me go! Ahhhh!" Sasha saw the strain building in the newt’s arm just in time to avert her gaze as a horrific snapping noise and blood curdling scream echoed through the room and then cut off.

Sasha looked back to see him hanging limply, passed out from the pain. As she surveyed the chamber, she saw that a similar scene had played out elsewhere; the cultists either lay unconscious or captured in constricting roots.

Sprig picked himself up off the floor and rubbed at his sore head.

Ivy and Maddie looked around, shocked by the sudden violent reversal in the desperate fight. They were both a little scuffed up, but they hadn’t sustained any real injuries.

Marcy panted as her irises faded from a vibrant green to her usual brown. Then her eyes rolled back into her head and she tilted forward, Ivy and Marddie didn’t manage to completely prevent her fall, but they kept her from falling face first on the cobblestone floor.

"Marcy?" Sprig asked, concerned.

Maddie leaned down to check Marcy’s pulse. "She's alright, just unconscious."

"Awesome! We did it!" Sprig said. He hopped over to his friends and held up his hand for a high five. "Great job world hoppers!" The other two exchanged a worried look. Sprig slowly lowered his hand in confusion.

Ivy was the first to speak. "Sprig, why did you go off on your own again?" she asked in a subdued voice.

"I... I thought we needed the blowdart for the potion thing." Sprig fretted, pointing over to Maddie.

Maddie nodded. "Yeah, but you didn't have to go off on your own!" She grimaced as she rubbed at her back. "We had time to plan and coordinate. But that all went out the window when they found out we were here."

Sprig shrunk back. "I was just trying to help... Ivy, you get that, right?" The little yellow frog stuck her hands in her pockets and avoided eye contact. "Ivy?"

Ivy frowned. "It felt more like you were trying to show off..."

Sprig's face fell at the comment, unable to deny it.

"Here." Maddie fished out a fist full of leaves from Marcy’s bag and held them out for Sprig. "Go have Waybright smell these. I'll see what we can do about Marcy. You can handle that on your own, right?"

Sprig paused for a moment, then sheepishly took the leaves and turned towards Sasha.

"What are those-" Sasha questioned before Sprig put leaves under her nose. Suddenly and painfully, Sasha started to sneeze. The first one she felt the disgusting feeling of mucus on her upper lip. The second however she launched herself upright and instinctively used her hands to cover her nose.

After feeling grossed out for a moment, Sasha looked down at her hands in shock. She wiggled her fingers before curling them into fists. She could move again! "Finally. Thanks, Squirt." Sasha swung her legs off of the altar. "Come on, we should get out of here. A few of them managed to get away, and I don’t wanna be here when they get back." She made to stride over to where Marcy was and haul her out of there, but her legs had different ideas and gave out from underneath her as soon as she tried to stand up. "Or... not. Ugh."

"You alright?" Sprig asked, concern evident. "Need more leaves?" He offered up the spiny leaves.

Sasha reluctantly took the leaves and sniffed them. She sneezed into her arm this time. After repeating the process a few times she tried to move her leg, but it still felt sluggish and unresponsive. "No, just need a minute I think." She dragged herself over to lean back against the stone altar she had almost been sacrificed on and stared ruefully at her legs.

Sprig came and sat down next to her, tucking his legs in under his chin. They were completely hidden from the others behind the altar. Sasha looked down at the frog awkwardly. She wasn't great at cheering people up. That was more Anne's role in their group. Sasha was more about motivation. There was a part of her that wanted to just wait for Marcy to deal with it, but something about that didn’t sit right with her. How hard could it be?

Sasha cleared her throat to get Sprig's attention. "Hey, thanks for the save, Squirt. That was a close call." He smiled weakly and nodded, then went back to sulking. Sasha suppressed a groan, again tempted to let someone else handle it. She pushed that feeling down and tried again. "Okay, so what happened?" She hadn't heard the whole conversation from where she was, but it didn't look like the post battle chat went great.

"Nothing," Sprig said, looking away.

"Oh yeah?" Sasha said unconvinced.

"... I wasn't capable enough."

"For what?"

"Your advice... I wasn't good enough for them to rely on. I just got in the way... I got them hurt," Sprig mumbled.

Sasha frowned. "Now wait a minute, this isn't exactly normal circ*mstances. You don't know-"

Sprig shook his head. "No, you were right. Those two are so in sync now. They don't need me anymore..." He stared at the floor. "Guess it doesn't matter if I'm out in front if they don't want to follow..."

Sasha felt a pang of irritation, accompanied by an instinct to protect herself. But instead her mind drifted back to the mountain pass. Anne and Marcy had drawn a line in the sand and Sasha had pushed past it without concern. Anne had tried her best to stand in Sasha's way, Marcy had begged desperately for her to back down, and she’d kept pushing.The look they’d both given Sasha when they had left her behind had fed an anger that had carried Sasha through the weeks she had spent in a cage.

Now though, looking back, she could only remember how hurt Anne and Marcy had looked when they left. It was all too clear in her mind.

Sasha brooded for a moment, then twisted her body to look around the altar. The other two frogs had pulled Marcy back into a sitting position. Ivy was cleaning up a bloody nose while Maddie wafted some kind of potion under Marcy’s nostrils.

Sasha thought over the last few weeks they had spent together. Marcy hadn't always been available, between looking for a way home and spending time with the Plantars, but things had gotten a lot better between them. There were hiccups, sure, but Sasha had found herself enjoying her time with Marcy a lot more than in the past.

"You... don't have to be the one in control," Sasha said, turning forward again.

Sprig looked at her with confusion. "But you said..."

"I know what I said. I… I was wrong," Sasha admitted through gritted teeth.

"But things are different now..."

"Then you'll have to adjust," Sasha said bluntly, leaning her head back onto the altar.

"What if it's too late, though?"

"I doubt that," Sasha said, recalling the little reunion at the fountain. "Just because the two of them got closer doesn't mean they forgot about you." There were a few moments of silence and Sasha cracked an eye open to find the Squirt squinting at her suspiciously. "What?"

"This was about you, Anne, and Marcy, too, wasn't it?"

Sasha gave the little frog a death glare. "...Anyone ever tell you you're a little too insightful for your own good, Squirt?"

"No, not really." Sprig shook his head before he went back to sulking.

Sasha frowned down at him. "Aren't you going to go apologize?"

"It's too late, they both already hate me... they probably want me to leave them alone," Sprig mumbled.

Sasha’s frown shifted into a scowl. She didn't accept another flaw about herself for the Squirt to just sit here not fixing things. She put a hand on the top of his head and swiveled it towards herself. "Hey. No avoiding them. Whatever problem you guys have will only get worse with time."

"What do I even say?" Sprig whined. "I put them in danger, how can I make up for that?"

"Later. For now you just... have to apologize," Sasha said, but Sprig looked doubtful. "Listen, if it's hard, then just do what I do – blame someone else," Sasha offered casually.

Sprig looked skeptical and shook his head. "What? I can't do that! W-who would I even blame?"

Sasha suppressed the instinct to scoff. She held up one hand and then pointed at herself.

Sprig blanched "What? But... I can't!"

Sasha rolled her eyes. "I don't mind taking the fall if it would help." It was her apparently garbage advice that got him in this situation. "Those two already hate me, might as well use that to your advantage," Sasha sighed. She would just have to back off and let Marcy have her fun with her little frog friends. It wasn't like Sasha didn't have other stuff to do.

"...Alright. I... I'll try." Sprig stood and took a steadying breath and stepped out from his hiding place behind the altar.

Sasha watched him go. As she turned she saw a giant spider just behind her and on instinct lashed out and smashed it. She blanched as it splattered into goo. "Ugh..." she looked over to a knocked out cultist with a swollen bump on their head and reached over to wipe her hand off on their robe.

Ivy flinched back as the little spider effigy she and Maddie had been listening to fell apart accompanied by the sound of a slap from across the room. She shared a look with Maddie. Her witch seemed troubled by the news; a frown still marred her features, but her eyes had softened at the overheard exchange.

Marcy's human friend was a piece of work. They’d already known that from the town, but now it was clear that she had also been the source of Sprig's odd behavior. Though weirdly it sounded like she was trying to help Sprig. It also sounded like she was going through some stuff. Ivy had trouble getting a read on her.

Maddie had been trying to wake up Marcy with some smelling salts to no avail, and was now checking for some other agent that might have knocked her out to little success.

They heard the slaps of Sprig's feet as he made his way over to them. All the bravado from earlier had leached out of him and Ivy saw the Sprig she had grown up with. He looked really nervous; that last bit of advice from the captain was clearly weighing on him.

"H-hey guys," he opened with an awkward little wave.

"Hey Sprig," Ivy responded.

"Hey," Maddie said.

Sprig took a deep breath and removed his hat to reveal his tuft of orange hair "Ivy, Maddie. I'm really sorry. You were right, I was trying to show off." He twisted his hat in his hands and stared down at the ground. "I hope you guys can forgive me..."

Ivy let out a sigh of relief. "Why'd you feel the need to?"

"I don't know how to explain it." Sprig scratched at the back of his head.

Maddie shot him a flat look. “Try.”

Sprig shrunk back, but nodded. "I guess I was worried that you guys had gotten so close that you wouldn't want me around anymore. You've both grown so much since I saw you last, but I'm still just the same old Sprig," he finished.

Ivy looked at Maddie, not wanting to put her in a difficult spot if she wasn't ready to forgive and forget yet. Maddie nodded and Ivy turned back to Sprig. "Sprig, you don't have to be anything but yourself. Truth is, we've been worried for you guys."

"You have?" Sprig said, not sounding surprised, just glad.

"Duh," Maddie said. "It isn't every day your friends have to flee the government."

"Oh, yeah that makes sense..." Sprig tapped his knuckles together nervously. "So are we still..."

"Listen, do you get you messed up?" Maddie asked bluntly. Sprig nodded. "So you won't do it again, right?" Again Sprig nodded. "Great! Now then, what's up with your sister?" she asked impatiently.

Sprig grimaced, and Ivy slung an arm over his shoulder. "We can't wake her up no matter what we try," she added.

Sprig smiled gratefully at her, then returned to frowning at his sister. "Not sure... This happened once on our trip; she was out for three days afterwards."

"She's drained!" A fourth voice called from a little ways off. The three of them looked back to see Sasha using the stone altar to brace herself as she got back to her feet. "Or burned out or- it happens if she overuses her powers! Stupid-" She stomped at the ground as if it would hasten her ability to walk again.

Ivy frowned at the agitated human and leaned over to whisper to Sprig. "Okay, so I get Marcy has history with her, but why are you friends with her?"

"Yeah," Maddie agreed, joining into a huddle. "She gave the order to sack Wartwood."

Sprig frowned. "I... didn't know about that part before today," he clarified, "but from what I've picked up the toads lied to her and betrayed her later that night. She had to fight her way out of the Eastern Tower."

Ivy and Maddie looked at each other and then back at the human with sympathy.

"She's rough around the edges and really intense... but since we've cleared up the misunderstanding she's helped us out a lot. She helped get Hop Pop off the hook and got us a room in the palace, and she's really protective of Marcy."

"Huh..." Ivy rolled the thought around. Before she could think on it too long, however, a massive chunk of rock suddenly fell two feet away from them. "What the-?!" The sound of rumbling started to build in the distance as it began reverberating all throughout the catacombs. As her friends looked around the chamber Ivy glanced up and saw that the animated roots had cracked the ancient stonework, and now it was starting to fall all around them. Ivy lurched forward and tackled the other two out of the way of a frog sized chunk that had been about to crush them.

However she could only watch helplessly as a massive piece of rock the size of the family wagon shifted and started to fall towards them. Her mind hesitated a moment too long trying to figure out a way she could save all four of them, and as it plummeted she realized she no longer had time to save any of them. Ivy pulled her two closest friends in tight, closed her eyes, and braced herself. She flinched when she heard the impact cracking rock, but didn't feel any pain.

She pried one eye open to look up and found Sasha looming over them, arms braced against the once falling rock which had cracked and splintered around her forearms. Her face was set in a look of furious determination, and her eyes shone with pink fire. She heaved the rock from her back onto the deanimated remnants of Maddie's golem, crushing the skull into dust.

"Dammit. Marcy was right, this place is falling apart." Sasha grabbed her sword and quickly slid it back through her sash before unceremoniously scooping Marcy up under her left arm. "We have to get out of here. Squirt, you and your friends grab onto my cloak." Sprig got up, helped Maddie to her feet, and jumped up to Sasha's left shoulder. Ivy and Maddie exchanged hesitant looks. Sasha took a breath. "Hate me later. We gotta go."

One of the three entrances into this place collapsed into rubble, which was all it took to convince Maddie and Ivy to simultaneously jump onto Sasha's back. Ivy clung to the shoulder opposite Sprig and Maddie gripped tightly to the back of her cloak. Once they’d all settled in, Sasha turned towards one of the remaining entrances into the chamber, crouched low, and launched them forward. Ivy yelped and reflexively tightened her grip; Sasha was fast.

Ivy could distantly hear the stonework crack under Sasha’s footfalls as she propelled them headlong through the entryway and into the winding corridors. A muted boom echoed behind them as the full weight of the tree slammed down into the chamber. Ivy cringed at the thought of the unconscious cultists they had left behind. The distant rumbling grew louder and she glanced back to see a fissure snaking hungrily along the roof of the corridor behind them, showering them with bits of gravel as the tunnel’s ceiling fractured.

Sasha screeched to a brief halt and dipped to the side to avoid another chunk of rubble before she took off again. Maddie let out a raspy shout as she was jostled from her tenuous grip on Sasha’s back.

“Maddie!” Sprig’s hand shot out to grab one of Maddie’s wrists and nearly fell himself. Ivy grabbed at Maddie’s other wrist. The two of them hauled Maddie up so she could grab back onto the hem of Sasha’s cloak. Ivy smiled up at Sprig, he smiled back, but his eyes grew wide as he glanced ahead.

Ivy turned forward just in time to see Sasha reach up and swat away a chunk of rock that had been on a collision course with Ivy's head, spiking it into the wall next to them like it was a bugball. Dust filled the air in front of them, which made the sudden appearance of the secret skull door even more alarming than it already was. Ivy and Sprig both tried to shout a warning, but rather than slowing or stopping, Sasha let out a guttural yell and lashed out with her arm, demolishing the wall in front of them into a cloud of broken mortar and scattered bones.

Sasha blew out a quick breath as they emerged, then reached back and patted Ivy’s hair. "One..." She broke into a light jog, then reached back further and tapped Maddie's head. "Two..." She rolled her neck before reaching across her shoulder and tapping Sprig twice on the shoulder. "Three."

Then another piece of rubble crashed into the ground next to them and, like a bolt of lightning, they were off again. The catacombs they’d explored so carefully flashed by, and in moments they were almost at the sewers.

However, a massive chunk of rock shifted above them and started to fall, intending to entomb five more in its final moments. Ivy braced herself as Sasha skidded to a stop directly beneath it. Goosebumps prickled across Ivy’s skin as a pink aura enveloped them in a flickering blaze. She felt the aura rush over and through her as Sasha drew and swung her sword overhead in an arc, pulverizing the stone above them in a show of raw concussive force. Ivy watched in stunned wonder as the stone above them exploded into powder. Through the cloud of dust, a glimmer of sunlight filtered through. Sasha crouched low and launched the five of them almost straight up into the daylight.

Sasha landed awkwardly and struggled to stay upright as she stumbled forward, but eventually she managed to come to a full stop. She spat a mouthful of dust to the side they emerged. "Ha... ha... Woo! You three okay?"

Ivy coughed to clear her own lungs before she spoke, voice shaking from the adrenaline "Here..." She looked down to Maddie, who had a white-knuckled grip on the back of Sasha's cloak. Sprig pulled off his goggles, leaving a ring of clean skin around his eyes as he hacked up thousand year old dust and sediment. Ivy looked back at the human in awe. "I think we're all here." She could not imagine a way out of that situation without Sasha.

Ivy felt the tension release from Sasha's shoulders as she slumped beneath them. "Good, that's good," she said simply. She tucked her sword into her belt, brushed her hair back, and carefully adjusted her grip on Marcy to cradle her in both arms. The dust around them had mostly settled; they were back at street level, and the entire park behind them had collapsed in on itself, along with a couple of the adjacent roads. For the second time in a year, Ivy found herself at the center of a great deal of destruction.

Newts all around them looked on in horror and confusion as a section of the capital settled in at a lower elevation. Ivy and Sprig looked around anxiously as Maddie climbed up to join them on Sasha’s shoulder.

Maddie let out an annoyed groan as she looked out at the crowd. "Well... here we go again."

Guards had begun to arrive on the scene, and a group of them spotted Sasha and started towards them.

Sasha leaned back just slightly and whispered conspiratorially. "Follow my lead..."

"C-Captain Waybright," one of the guards said, snapping off a salute before looking around the devastation. "What-"

Sasha stepped forward, towering over most of the guards. "Found some cultists down in the catacombs. They detonated some boom shrooms when they were discovered." Her voice was raised to allow everyone who had gathered to see the destruction to hear her. Ivy could see the newts of Newtopia already spreading the lie around. "They were all wearing black cloaks to hide their identities. You three, cycle around to the right, you two to the left. Look for anyone trying to escape the ruins in such a cloak. Spread the word to anyone else who arrives. At least a few of them escaped; once we have enough guards I want sentries on any nearby sewer entrances."

The guards snapped a salute before moving to the orders. They were still the focus of attention, but the suspicious whispering had been replaced by murmurs of relief.

Ivy looked at Sasha with a newfound sense of admiration.

"Ivy?!"

Ivy looked out into the crowd to see her Mom and Mr. Plantar at the edge of the gathering crowd, both looking aghast. "Hey mom!" she called cheerfully, the stress of the adventure transmuting into excitement at surviving.

Sasha adjusted her grip on Marcy and held up a hand in greeting. "Safe and sound! As promised."

Snake was hacking up a lung as she patted Fang on the back. They were a few blocks away from where the subway had almost collapsed on top of them. The two of them bailed almost immediately after the ancient skeleton had knocked their glorious leader halfway across the room. It turned out to be the right call; the catacombs started to collapse halfway into their escape.

Fang got the last of the dust out of her lungs and finally managed an uninterrupted gasp of air. They both looked back at the way they came before Fang finally spoke up. "...Was that supposed to happen? "

Snake frowned thoughtfully. "I don't think so? But I got sick and missed a couple of meetings a while back. So I might have missed something." They both pondered that in relative silence before Snake voiced the thought they both were thinking. "Okay, so... what now?" For her part, Snake really wasn't sure. She'd sunk a lot of years into the cult. It was where all their friends were, what most of her free time was dedicated to. Sure, she had a day job, but that was mostly just a way to pay rent and to keep her well supplied in ominous black cloaks.

"I guess... we move on," Fang said melancholically. "Start building our lives around something important to ourselves, and not abdicate all our thoughts and decisions to someone else."

The two stewed in that idea for a few moments, for the first time in a long time not having to worry about sourcing some strange arcane ingredient or kidnapping sacrifices. She could go back to school, or maybe start up that bakery! She had gotten a lot of practice at baking for the cult potlucks. It was scary... but maybe it didn't have to be. Maybe she and Fang could face it together. Fang was her best friend in the cult, and part of what made all of this so scary was the idea of leaving that common touchstone. Maybe together-

"Excuse me?" A third voice called out and the both of them looked and saw a new newt, a silhouette in the shadows. "Sorry to interrupt, but did I hear right that you two were in the market for a new purpose in life? I know of a group that may interest you."

Snake let out a sigh of relief. Oh, thank frog. "Actually, yes, are you offering?"

"It doesn't have an occult vibe, does it?" Fang asked hesitantly. "Kind of burnt out on this whole aesthetic."

"Oh no no no. We're a group that leans on and supports one another, like one big living organism." The newt stepped out from the shadows to reveal a lean figure dressed in the rich blue cloak of the city guard. Fang and Snake both went for their respective weapons but the newt held out his hands placidly. "Please, there’s no need for that. Perhaps once I would have tried to capture you, but now I only seek to unite our disparate communities. I even sent some of my fellow guards down the wrong path."

Fang and Snake glanced at one another and relaxed their shoulders "You got a name, lawman?"

"Please." As he spoke, a furry little creature crawled out from his armor and around his neck. It was a chubby little critter with a long ringed tail and an adorable little mushroom hat. "Call me Gary."

Sasha walked down the halls of the hospital, Marcy's shoulder bag slung loosely over her shoulder. It'd been two days since the incident and Sasha was fairly confident she'd covered it up.

They'd found no live cultists at the end of things, but there were plenty of bodies to back up her report. Yunan hadn't been thrilled to hear the true story, but came through in the end. Fortunately, between the collateral damage clearly not being Marcy's intention, her intervention saving Sasha's life, and the worst non-cultist casualty being a tossup between a twisted ankle and an expensive wedding cake; she seemed to have made her peace with it.

Sasha nodded to a couple of the nurses she recognized from the floor as she reached the end of the hall where a couple of city guards stood watch. They snapped to attention at Sasha’s arrival. Sasha waved them off and opened the door, only to be greeted by a deep, bellowing snore by one of the room's occupants.

Inside she saw Hop Pop sitting in a chair, crossword puzzle book gripped loosely in one hand while he napped in the hospital chair next to Marcy's bed. Marcy was still out from her stunt the other day.

Sasha closed the door behind her, then knocked on the frame to alert Hop Pop to her presence. He startled awake, dropping his puzzle book and looking around. "Who, hwha-?" As he came back to himself he seemed to recognize her.

"Evening, old timer," Sasha said in greeting.

"Ah, evening Sasha." He stretched out his back with an audible pop. "The kids alright?"

"Checked in on them on the way here. They're still having a blast at the Hemisphere Hotel." At least Sasha assumed they were, based on the state of the lobby. Toilet paper strung up like banners, little bone monstrosities bothering the snooty patrons, the elevator going so fast it was acting more like a drop tower. Sasha couldn't help but feel responsible after sharing some of the pranks she, Anne, and Marcy had pulled back home. Responsible and proud.

Sasha hadn't sought them out; based on the alarm and confusion by the hotel staff, they had no idea who was causing the mayhem. She had no interest in blowing their cover if they had managed to get away with everything thus far, so Sasha had taken a few moments to appreciate the chaos, then turned on her heel and left. "Any change in Marbles?"

He looked affectionately over to Marcy. "No, not yet. But don't worry, she's a trooper. She was just fine last time this all happened." He picked up his puzzle book. "Still think this decadent doctor hotel is overkill, though. She just needs a bit of bed rest," he said, looking around the private room.

"Hospital, Hop Pop. It’s called a hospital."

Hop Pop shrugged. "If you say so. You gonna stay here for the night watch?"

"Yeah," Sasha said with a sigh. "Least I can do after she saved my ass is give her a friendly face to wake up to."

He nodded with an appreciative smile. "Alright, I'm gonna go find something to eat before collecting the kiddos. Have a good night."

Sasha nodded and dropped into the uncomfortable bedside chair that she had become all too familiar with. She glanced up at the elderly frog as he reached the door. He’d become a lot more relaxed around her over the past few days. Apparently saving the squirt and his friends went a long way towards mending fences. Maybe he had finally let go of her mistake up in the mountains. …Ugh.

Hop Pop got to the door and was about to open it and exit before Sasha called out. "Hey, sorry, could you wait a sec?"

Hop Pop paused, door opened a crack. "Uh, yeah, sure?" He closed it and took half a pace back towards Sasha. "Forgot somethin'?"

"Yeah... you could say that," Sasha muttered. A part of her already regretted this, but that part of her was a bitch, and she wasn't about to let it hold her back anymore. "I wanted to apologize."

"Ah... " Hop Pop rubbed at his chin a bit before looking up. "Is this about those human swears you said around Polly? I was a little mad at first, but honestly it blends in with the rest of your weird alien slang."

"No." She hadn't even realized she had done that. "It's about what happened back in the valley. Or… what almost happened."

Hop Pop's eyes widened. He didn't say anything, but nodded for her to continue.

Okay, deep breaths Waybright. "I'm sorry for what I did. I was just stressed and-" she clenched her teeth shut, resisting the urge to excuse herself. "- that's no excuse." Sasha finished with a little huff of breath. "I thought I was protecting Marcy, but I see now how badly it would have hurt her..." Sasha paused, feeling a pit of frustration. "Not. That it would have been okay if Marcy had been on- wait a second, I can do better than this," Sasha closed her eyes and rubbed at the bridge of her nose.

"Wow, the general really wasn't kidding, you are terrible at this," Hop Pop remarked jovially.

Sasha bit back an offended retort. "Yunan? When did she say that?" she said instead.

"Back on the night of my grand performance!" Hop Pop said with a dramatic bow. At Sasha's continued confusion he rolled his eyes, "The day Sprig made us all younger." Ah, right. "Anywho, she apologized on behalf of both of you that night. Said that you had come clean to her and asked for help clearing my name."

"She said all that?" Sasha said with a chuckle. It was honestly a little frustrating sometimes how much Yunan looked out for her. She had never had an older sister, but she was starting to get an idea of what it might be like.

"Yup," Hop Pop confirmed. "Also said you were as stubborn as a mule and had more pride than you knew what to do with. So you'd have trouble saying it."

"All that, huh?" Sasha gritted her teeth. Yep, ‘frustrating older sibling’ felt just about right.

Hop Pop chuckled. "Yeah, but I have to say, it's nice to hear it from you. I'll accept your apology," he said with sincerity.

Sasha thought she should feel relieved, but... this felt too easy. "Why?"

Hop Pop frowned. "Why what?"

"Accept it? I almost got you killed." Sasha couldn't imagine forgiving someone for that. She'd barely come around to forgiving Marcy for the mind control crap, and she had known her for most of her life.

"Ya know," Hop Pop lectured, "when someone accepts your apology, the polite thing is to move the conversation onto something else."

Sasha could see that, but it didn't stop feeling wrong. "... I didn't expect you to accept. You shouldn't."

Hop Pop's face softened with understanding, which somehow bothered Sasha more than him being angry or upset with her. He walked back over to her and sat on the foot of Marcy’s bed. "It's easy to lose track of, considering just how tall and capable the two of you are, but at the end of the day, you and Marcy are both still children. You're bound to make mistakes," Hop Pop explained. "Don't get me wrong. As mistakes go, that was a whopper." Sasha snorted at that. "But. After seeing how you’ve acted these last couple weeks, despite how misguided your actions were, I believe they came from a good place... so yeah. I forgive you."

Sasha took a few moments to absorb that, then nodded, finally feeling the knot in her stomach unwind.

"To be clear: really, truly, horribly misguided."

"Yeah, fair."

"Right destination, opposite direction."

"Mmmhmm.."

"Like it was-"

"Hop Pop, I got it," Sasha said, trying to keep as much of the annoyance out of her voice as possible.

"Alright, alright. Anything else you need me for?"

"No. Thanks for sticking around."

"Eh, it's no trouble." The old frog said, hopping off the bed. "Now, if you’ll excuse me, I'm gonna go grab some dinner." He waved cheerfully on his way out the door.

With him gone, Sasha stretched out her neck and settled into the chair. She reached for Marcy's bag and carefully pulled out her Shift. She switched it on and started up The Saga of Ganon. She tapped away at the little adventure while listening to the steady chirping of the medical equipment in the room.

Sasha woke up with a start. The Shift had turned off at some point, and Sasha groggily looked around the room to figure out what had roused her from her accidental nap.

The EKG beeped and Marcy let out a pained groan.

Sasha shook herself fully awake and looked to see her friend clutching at her ears, fingers digging through her hair. She took a steadying breath, but the machine beeped again and her face twisted into a look of abject misery.

Sasha remembered now, Sprig had mentioned that Marcy got a huge headache after her last burnout. "Marcy-" Sasha started but Marcy flinched again, so she lowered her voice to a whisper. "Hey Marbles, it's me." She waited for any sign that Marcy had actually heard her. Marcy's eye cracked open and flickered with recognition before another beep came and she closed it again. "Anything I can do to help?"

Marcy took a moment to respond, but eventually gritted out, "Bag..."

Sasha reached back down and pulled up Marcy's bag. It was filled with vials and assorted knickknacks. She briefly considered trying to find whatever Marcy needed, but figured if Marcy needed her to, she'd ask for it. Instead, Sasha gently deposited the bag on her waist. Marcy reached for the bag and started to blindly feel around, grabbing vials and then dropping them a moment later. Her thumb glided over each bottle’s top. The one she finally decided on was plugged with a wooden stopper instead of a cork.

Marcy quickly pulled the vial open and sat up to choke down the potion. Once she was finished, she fell back against her pillow. Her breathing evened out and she stopped flinching every time the machine beeped. After about a minute she finally let out a sigh and rubbed at her temples. "Ah, good. It works."

"Marcy," Sasha said in a low voice. "What was that?"

Keeping her eyes closed Marcy said, "Headache potion. Made it in case I ever overtaxed myself again."

"You made your own medicine and tested it on yourself?"

Marcy shrugged. "Yeah, it's not like I can go to the doctor's office here," she explained. The EKG machine beeped again and Marcy's face scrunched up in confusion. She opened her eyes and looked around the room, then down at her patient's gown. "... are we in a hospital right now?"

"Yup."

Marcy looked down at the wire that was coming out of the machine. "How's this work…?" She followed the wire to her wrist, where a tiny parasite was attached. "Oh! a fishing leech." She poked the creature affectionately. "These guys look like reeds underwater and attach themselves to anything that swims by. They must have figured out a way to measure a patient's heart rate by how often it can draw blood."

Sasha looked at the set up skeptically. "Is that really safe?"

"Should be. They're really only dangerous in large numbers," Marcy explained with that cute little smile of hers. "What a clever use for them."

Sasha let out a sigh of relief. "Looks like you're alright. You had us all worried." Marcy looked up to Sasha in confusion for a moment before her eyes widened with panic. She shot upright, but Sasha held up a hand to stop her. "They're all fine. Few scrapes and bruises, but nothing a couple band-aids couldn't fix. Your little frog friends all send their well wishes, by the way."

Marcy relaxed back into her bed, looking relieved. "So what happened? We got ambushed. I woke up to all of us fighting, then I remember hitting people with this nice old tree-"

"Nice... tree?"

"It was concerned for us. You in particular," Marcy said with a shrug. "So why? What was going on?"

Sasha explained the basics. The wacko cultists, the plan to sacrifice them, the little ones intervening, Marcy wrecking shop, and then Sasha getting the lot of them out of there.

"... then I insisted we take you here, and you've been knocked out for the past few days," Sasha finished her recounting.

"Wow. I missed a lot..." Marcy said incredulously. "Thanks for getting us out of there, Sash."

"Least I could do to return the favor. Besides... you made some pretty cool friends," she conceded. "You know, for a bunch of munchkins."

Marcy giggled before stretching. "Well, thanks for keeping me company..." She glanced out the window. "It's pretty late, isn't it? You can head back if you want."

"You feeling tired?"

Marcy hummed thoughtfully. "Hm... no, not really. One of the main ingredients of that potion are ground up bugaccinos-beetles. I'm pretty buzzed. I'll probably be up for a bit."

"Then I'll keep you company." Sasha leaned back in her chair, tilting it so it leaned against the wall. "My sleep schedule is already wrecked from taking the night shift watching over you. We can both head back to get some sleep when the doctor discharges you in the morning."

Marcy tilted her head, looking touched. "You were watching over me? Wasn't that boring?"

"Eh, it was fine." Sasha held up the Shift for Marcy to see. "I've just been working away at side quests and such in Saga."

Marcy lit up and shifted herself to the edge of the bed. "Oh! Which one are you on now?"

Sasha clicked on the power button and angled herself so Marcy could easily watch. Not a ton of battery left. "Helping some weird fish people find their eggs."

For a little bit the two of them just hung out. Sasha kicked ass and took names while Marcy marveled at her improved skill and gave her hints for the more obtuse puzzles. Sasha didn't really get how Marcy enjoyed just watching so much, but Sasha wasn't about to complain.

"Sash, you gotta use arrows!" Marcy advised.

Sasha scowled down at the screen, ignoring the flashing battery symbol in the top right corner. The fragment of the Nameless King, a towering centaur like figure, was charging Sasha. "No, I don't! I can beat it with just my sword!"

"You can but you don't have the time! You have so many divine arrows saved! If you hit it in the-”

"No spoilers, Marce! " Sasha hissed. Unlike puzzles, Sasha enjoyed figuring out the battles - or just being good enough to brute force it with the Sage's Sword.

"I'm just saying-"

The screen briefly flashed an empty battery symbol and then shut down. The girls both groaned as they looked at their reflections on the now-dead screen.

"Looks like I'll have to try again later," Sasha groused. She handed the Shift off to Marcy.

Marcy took it and opened her bag to find a good spot for it. "It's a good fight. Sorry for almost spoiling something again."

"It's fine." Sasha rolled her eyes. Marcy had always had a tendency to get over excited.

Sasha watched Marcy frown down at the journal that took up the majority of the space. The one that had taken an arrow bolt for her a couple of days ago. Sasha smirked in anticipation.

Marcy pulled the book out to see the hole in the cover had been filled in with paper mache.

"That also ate up some time," Sasha said, satisfied with herself. "Not the craftiest, but I did my best."

Marcy looked through the pages. On each one, Sasha had carefully creased down where the arrowhead had torn through the material and taped it down. Not with real tape of course. It was some nasty transparent slime from some kind of slug, which worked like scotch tape when it dried out. Ugh. This world was so gross.

It was worth it though seeing Marcy flip through the pages and see them all more or less intact. She looked up to Sasha with shining eyes. "You did all this?" she said in an awed whisper.

Sasha’s stomach churned pleasantly. She pushed the feeling down and looked away. "Had nothing better to do," she said with a shrug.

"Thanks, Sashy. This means a lot," Marcy insisted.

Sasha nodded and glanced out the window. The sky was just starting to take on shades of purple; dawn was approaching. She didn't have that much time left to procrastinate. She looked back at Marcy, who had already begun to scribble something in her book. Sasha took a moment to brace herself before speaking. “Marcy? Can I ask you about something?

"Yeah, sure thing Sash. What’s on your mind?" Marcy had her head tilted towards Sasha, but she continued writing in her journal.

"... were you and Anne dating back in the valley?"

Marcy froze, and her pencil went slack in her grip. "Oh..." She glanced up at Sasha pensively, then nodded. "Yeah..." she said quietly. Marcy carefully closed the journal. She gripped it tightly as she stared down at the cover. "Does that... bother you?"

Yes. "No." Marcy's shoulders slumped with palpable relief at Sasha’s denial. "Why were you hiding it, though?"

Marcy shrugged and laid the journal down on her lap. "It just didn't seem relevant. I figured it could wait until we found her."

"Why, though? I would've stopped bringing her up if I knew it was that much of a sore point."

Marcy's hands were bunched up in her sheets, thinking it over. "I-... we'd just started to get to a better place, and I didn't want to make you uncomfortable."

"Why would I be uncomfortable?" Sasha pressed. "Marcy, did you really think I was hom*ophobic?" That was ridiculous. Just because she thought guys were hot didn't mean she was a bigot. Besides, she could kind of see the appeal. Girls could be really cute too.

Marcy looked up at her again. "...The other day, when I asked if Olivia and Yunan liked each other, you seemed really annoyed about it."

Sasha thought back to that moment, then sighed and facepalmed. "Marcy- no. I was frustrated ‘cause I'd been watching the two of them flirt around each other for months," Sasha explained. "Did you really think I'd hate you if you came out to me?" Something in Sasha’s gut twisted uncomfortably at the thought.

"I... wasn't sure?" Marcy admitted. "You get really angry sometimes. I have a hard time figuring out what sets you off..."

Sasha felt a prickle of annoyance at that, and a question that had been in the back of her mind for weeks pushed itself to the forefront. "...Why don’t you?"

Marcy stammered in confusion. "I... You know I've never been great at reading people's-"

"No. Why don’t you get angry?" Sasha stood up with a surge of nervous energy. "I used to think you were just oblivious little Marcy, cheerful and easygoing. I thought you didn't have any problems!" Sasha started to pace at the foot of the bed as she worked through her thoughts out loud. "But you do! You have dealt with all sorts of bullsh*t! The way Anne and I ignored you back home, Anne leaving you high and dry, what I almost did to your little frog family!"

"I don't deserve-" Marcy tried to explain, but Sasha was, ironically, not listening.

"Hell, I was a total toad towards you a couple of days ago! Your garbage parents- How did you just smile through it? How are you not furious?!" Sasha rounded on Marcy, hands slamming down on the wooden footboard. Sasha flinched back at what she saw.

Marcy was hunched over, staring down at her lap, hands bunched up nervously in the bedsheets.

Dammit, I did it again, didn't I? Sasha let go of the footboard, took a breath, and splayed out her hands. "Sorry," she said sincerely. She walked around to the foot of the bed. "Just… how do you deal with it?" Sasha sat at the foot of the bed and rubbed at her eyes. "How do you not let it... hurt anyone else?" she asked.

The anxious expression on Marcy’s face faded into a contemplative frown. She pulled her knees against her chest and rested her arms and head atop them. She was quiet for a long time, but Sasha didn't rush her. "Back on earth... I don't think I handled it much better. I didn't get angry, I just sort of... pushed it all down until… well, until this happened." Marcy gestured out the window where a towering mushroom skyscraper rose up through the city skyline.

They sat in silence for a few moments, looking out the window before Sasha asked a question she knew she wasn't going to enjoy the answer to. "Why didn't you tell me or Anne about it?"

Marcy shrugged. "I mean, I assume for a similar reason you didn’t."

Sasha frowned. "What do you mean?"

"That." Marcy said bluntly, pointing at Sasha. "That thing you do. I hid my problems, but if anyone even mentions yours you get really defensive," she explained. "Anne and I were waiting until you were ready to talk about it but… you never were."

Bile rose in Sasha’s throat and she fought the urge to snap.

"And you don't have to," Marcy assured, "Obviously, I know how hard it is." Sasha eased a bit. "But for me... it's hard to ask for things without feeling like a burden. So when you didn't confide in us..." she trailed off, but Sasha didn't need her to finish. "For what it's worth... finally talking about it with you and the Plantars made things easier," Marcy offered. "It didn't suddenly fix everything, but it did help. So..." she looked like she was about to add more, but seemed to think better of it. "So if there's someone you trust..."

Silence reigned again. Sasha worked her thumb against her temple in thought. Just the thought of talking about her junk felt like scratching at an open wound, still raw and thrumming with pain. But... Yunan had taught her that wounds shouldn't be left unattended... and she'd let this one fester for a long time. "Hey, Marcy?" Sasha dropped her gaze downward again.

"Yeah?"

"Back when we first talked about all this... you asked about my parents." Sasha dropped her hands down to the bed to try to ground herself.

"Yeah."

"It'd sounded like an offer at the time. To listen." Sasha swallowed nervously.

"... yeah."

Sasha gripped at the sheets of her bed. "Is that offer still open?"

The words hung in the air; Sasha took deep breaths just so she wouldn't start shaking. After a moment Sasha felt movement on the bed. Marcy worked her way out from under the covers and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She scooched over to Sasha's side and smiled with gentle encouragement.

Ah, right. She'd have to talk now. sh*t.

Sasha took a few moments to figure out the best place to start. "So, my parents weren't really like yours. My dad made a lot of money investing when he was young, so he had a lot of time to spend at the house. We'd play games, watch movies, all sorts of stuff. Before I met you and Anne, my dad was basically my best friend." Sasha smiled wanly. "Mom, on the other hand, was pretty busy with social work. Long hours helping kids. But... she always made time. Always woke me up and read to me every night, and once a month she'd set aside a day for just the two of us..." She soaked in the bittersweet memories for a moment, then jolted back to reality. She looked over to Marcy and quickly backpedaled. "Not- not that I'm bragging, it's just-"

Sasha paused and looked over at Marcy, who gazed patiently back at her. Her heart suddenly ached with shame, which was quickly replaced by a vicious bubble of anger at herself. What was she doing? Complaining about her garbage to Marcy, whose parents ignored her so much that school was a place of comfort?

Sasha balled her fists up in the mattress, threatening to tear a chunk out. "This. Is. Stupid." She forced a laugh, tried to bury the vulnerability under bravado. She pushed up off the bed. "I’m- I'm fine. You should get some rest." She couldn't bring herself to look Marcy in her eye. "I'll see you in the morning, okay Marbles?" Sasha started to leave, but Marcy’s hand darted out to grab her wrist.

Sasha whirled around, a harsh rejection on the tip of her tongue, but then she saw Marcy. Marcy, whose eyes showed no trace of insult or offense. Just a quiet, shimmering concern. Her grip was gentle, just tight enough to cause Sasha to pause. It would be easy to pull away. It wasn’t a demand, it was an offer.

Sasha slowly lowered herself back down to the bed; Marcy’s hand shifted to hold Sasha's.

Sasha focused on the feeling of the other girl’s palm pressed against her own and used it to center herself. After a moment, she continued. "It was just… different from your situation, was all I was trying to say. They treated me alright. They did love me, I think."

Sasha paused, ready for Marcy to tell her to get over herself, but all she got was a gentle squeeze of encouragement. Sasha took a shaky breath as years of buried guilt and hurt rose to the surface.

"But man, they hated each other." She shook her head. "I have no idea how they got together to begin with. They’d bicker and argue, sometimes sniping across the breakfast table, sometimes shouting at each other across the house. They'd stop when I was in the room. I used to think I was some miracle cure for their relationship." Stupid. "At least until second grade, when all coming down did was give me a front row seat." All these years later, she couldn't remember what they’d fought about, but she still felt the weight of the words, vicious and cruel.

"That sounds... awful," Marcy said.

"Yeah." It was weird. It wasn't like that was some great insight, but it was still nice to hear. "They finally decided to get a divorce when we were in fifth grade... only, they decided not to tell me," Sasha ground out bitterly.

Marcy looked at her incredulously. "They- what? How does that even-?"

"Legally, they don't have to if you're under fourteen. Not until everything is settled, obviously," Sasha explained. "Apparently they didn't want to 'ruin my summer break.'" She shook her head. "So I was left totally in the dark. Which is why when Mom told me that we were going to miss one of our special days out - and wouldn't tell me why - I was upset. Turns out she was looking for an apartment big enough for the two of us... but that was okay!" Her voice became strained as her breath caught wrong in her throat.

"After she left, Dad said he'd take me out instead. We went to a diner for breakfast, a roller skating rink, an amusem*nt park, all the places mom and me would go. It was fun, but... weird. It felt wrong." Like a betrayal. "At the end of the day, we got soft serve ice cream to eat in the car. I was still a little upset that Mom had bailed last minute, and Dad asked me what was wrong. I admitted why I was upset. I'd expected him to at least half heartedly defend mom." It's what Mom had always done for him. "But nope! He agreed with me. Started asking if there was anything else Mom did that bothered me. I thought it- I didn't…" Sasha fumbled for a moment before her shoulders dropped. "I shouldn't have said anything." If I had just shut my trap-

After a few moments Marcy's voice coaxed. "... what did you say?"

"... I talked about how she wasn't there for most meals. How busy she was. How little time we had together. I thought we were just… bonding or something. Harmless griping, y’know?" Sasha felt the edges of her eyes start to burn, but she pushed it down. "Let me tell you, it doesn't sound so harmless played back in a custody hearing."

Sasha heard a shallow intake of breath. There it was, when sympathy would morph into disgust.

"That's how I finally found out. One night I came downstairs and found her crying." It was the only time she had ever seen her mom crying. "She tried to send me back to bed, but when I in-" her breath hitched, but she swallowed it down and pushed on, "-insisted she tell me... she asked if I resented her." Marcy’s hand slipped out of hers. Of course; it'd be better for her to get away. Sasha would only end up hurting her again. "I- I..." she coiled into herself, tried to regain control of her breathing, tried to restabilize.

There was a muted thump as Marcy latched onto her side, wrapping her arms around her and holding on tight. There was something about the way Marcy hugged, the way it felt like she was doing it with her whole body and soul. Even on Sasha's most jaded days, she’d always loved Marcy’s hugs. As she felt the heat of Marcy's embrace, she finally came undone. Tears pooled in her eyes as years of pent-up emotion began to flow.

"Dammit..." Sasha muttered. She leaned into Marcy and finally let out a quiet sob. The ambient light of the dawn rose to fill the room around them.

Chapter 17: Annual Traditions

Chapter Text

Sasha yawned as she stared out the window of her mothers old junker of a car, listening to the whirr of the heater combating the radio as it spewed out old rock. The commute to Saint James from Mom's apartment was long enough that they basically had to leave at dawn. When they pulled up in front of the school, it was already populated with students milling about before classes started for the day.

"Alright, you got everything you need?" her mom fussed as she put the car in park and checked her messages.

"Yeah, Mom," Sasha said. She twisted around to get her duffel bag from the back seat.

"Got everything to bring to your dad's-"

"Yeah, Mom," Sasha said. She shook her bag meaningfully. "Been doing this for a while."

"Alright, just making sure." Sasha was already halfway out the door as her mom put down her phone. "Hey Sasha-"

"What?" Sasha snapped. She winced internally and instantly regretted her tone.

There was an awkward pause as her mother stared her down, but after a moment she just sighed and shook her head. "Just… have a good week, alright?" she said, sounding tired.

Sasha nodded and broke eye contact. "Alright, thanks." She pulled herself out of the car.

"I'll pick you up here after cheer practice on Monday. Message me if something changes."

"Sure, Mom. See you next week." Sasha closed the door and watched her mom drive off. She caught a couple of sixth graders staring at her and gave them the stink eye so they'd move along. She rolled her neck, put all that junk at the back of her mind, and threw her game face on. She quickly found her center of confidence and strode towards the school as she breathed in the crisp September air.

The halls were already flooded with students heading this way and that. Sasha basked in the power she wielded as heads turned to watch her pass. It was a new year and the last vestiges of anyone who could possibly challenge her popularity had either moved onto high school or had wisely transferred out.

She made it to her locker and stuffed her duffel bag away for the day. She felt her phone buzz in her pocket and fished it out to look at the message. She had been hoping for something from one of her friends, but her mood soured when she saw the sender.

""Dad"": Hey Sweetie. Just learned about a conference I've gotta go 2 this weekend. Flights Friday afternoon back on Sunday

""Dad"": Could you ask your Mom if she could take you early this weekend?

Sasha frowned and she muttered a curse under her breath. She angrily started to tap out a message.

Me: Already at school. Just call her yourself, I'm not your messeng...

Sasha's typing slowed for a moment as an idea came to her. She smirked and held down the delete key until the message was erased, then started over.

Me: Yeah, she says it should be no problem.

""Dad"": Great. See you tonight.

Sasha pocketed her phone and scanned the hallway. She spotted Gabby down the hall. The bubbly redhead had cornered two underclassmen and was relentlessly gossiping at them. Perfect.

"So then Vince texted to ask Chyanne out, but he texted the wrong number." Gabby spoke at the pace that hummingbirds flapped. "The girl he texted, Melody, accepted! Don't tell anyone, but Chyanne was crushed when she heard, which is why she slashed Melody's bike tires, and-"

Sasha strode up, hooked an arm around Gabby's shoulder, and pulled her into stride next to her. "Gabby, how are you doing, girl?" The two kids Gabby had been talking to took the opportunity to slip away unnoticed.

Gabby was stunned for a moment by the sudden shift, but recovered quickly. "Oh, hey Sasha, did you hear-"

Sasha held up a hand and spoke over her. "Yeah, totally. Sorry, no time to talk, got places to be, y’know?" she quickly rattled off over Gabby’s attempted chatter. "But I just wanted to invite you to my party this Saturday!" Sasha said with a broad smile.

Gabby gasped. "You're having a party?! How haven't I heard of this?"

"Well, I'm just inviting the coolest kids in school, so hey, keep it on the downlow, alright?" Sasha said with a pointed stare.

Gabby nodded, holding a hand up. "Gotcha, won’t tell a soul," she said, crossing her heart as the bell’s five minute warning rang.

"Thanks. Remember: bring snacks or soda as your invite." Sasha let go of her and picked up her pace to leave her behind. Perfect. Now half the school would be buzzing about it before the end of the day.

----

"Yeah, sure you can come. Bring chips, soda, or whatever you can swipe from your house." Sasha said, already disengaging from the conversation. "Just remember to come after dark."

Her response was greeted by several low energy mutters of acknowledgement, which from this particular crowd was par for the course. Word had already started to get around to the more popular kids about the party this weekend. She got several comments about seeing her that weekend; some people even asked if they could bring friends from other schools.

It was good to be the queen.

As she approached the lunchroom she caught sight of the first of her two friends. Marcy walked blindly through the halls, hunched over her spiral notebook, scribbling away like always. Someone bumped into her shoulder, which didn't break her concentration, but did set her off course just enough so that she walked directly into the side of the lockers.

"Ow," Marcy muttered, rubbing at her forehead.

Sasha rolled her eyes; clumsy as ever. As she passed by, Sasha tapped Marcy twice on the shoulder so she would fall in behind her.

"Oh, hey Sash, how’re classes going?"

"Skipped the last two," Sasha said with a shrug. "What's got you distracted today?" she asked, half-listening as she searched the lunchroom for Anne.

"Oh, I was just jotting down some ideas for Saturday!" Marcy responded cheerfully.

That caught Sasha by surprise. She'd been intending to let Anne and Marcy in on the party plan at lunch. It was even odds that Anne had already heard from some of her jock friends, but she expected Marcy to be totally in the dark. She was kind of proud, in fact. Not only was Marcy in tune enough with gossip to hear about it, but she was already taking initiative. Sasha would probably have to weed out some of her nerdier suggestions, but it was nice to have Marcy engage socially for once.

"Oh yeah? Let me take a look." Sasha plucked Marcy's notebook from her hands and her eyes widened at what she saw.

13th Birthday Ideas!!!

- Spend day with the girls. <--ofc

- See a movie - Local cinema usually has some kind of special anime movie showing on Saturdays [Research]

- Arcade!

- Sleepover at Sashy's or Anne's at the end of the day.

^ Maybe just an all day hangout at one of their places? Games, movies, snacks? OH! We could start WotW in the afternoon!!!

- Pranks? No, don't want the day to end early if we get caught.

- Window shop at the mall a~

Next to the list was a little doodle of Marcy wearing a party hat with her arms up above her head. As Sasha gawked at the page, Marcy took the journal back. "I'm sure whatever ideas you have will be much better, I just thought this might be useful."

Sasha quietly did some math and internally groaned. In her rush to get this whole party thing off the ground she’d completely forgotten that Marcy's birthday was that weekend. Sasha didn't remember why, but at some point she'd volunteered to be in charge of Marcy's birthday celebrations. It'd become a tradition at this point. One that had totally slipped her mind.

After a moment of thought Sasha stumbled upon the perfect solution. It was far too late to call off the party; she'd lose way too much face. However, it wasn't too late to rebrand things a little bit. "Listen Marcy, I appreciate the thought, but the truth is that I've already got it all planned out."

Marcy looked up from her notes, a smile on her face. "Oh, really?"

"Yeah, after thinking it over, I mean, you’re the first one of us to turn thirteen. It's time we stop playing around like little kids."

Marcy tilted her head curiously.

Sasha pointed a thumb at herself proudly. "I organized a house party at my place this Saturday."

Marcy didn't react with much excitement. "Oh?"

"What?" Sasha responded in a deadpan tone.

Marcy frowned, and she spoke hesitantly. "I don't know, I don't think I'm really well suited to that kind of thing."

"Marcy, you gotta grow up sometime. You can't just hide behind books forever," Sasha chided.

"I know... I just..." Marcy rubbed at her arm. She looked up at Sasha, who stared back in warning. Marcy averted her eyes again before smiling. "Alright, Sash, if you think that's best..."

"Of course," Sasha said, giving Marcy a side hug to reassure her. "Don't worry, Mar-Mar, it'll be awesome!"

---

The night was going great. Plenty of people had shown up with enough food and soda to keep things going for the whole evening. Music poured out the backdoor where dozens of middle schoolers were dancing their hearts out. Others milled around the pool in the backyard, chatting, flirting, or just cooling off from dancing. She'd even managed to get the word out that the party was for Marcy's birthday.

Everything was perfect - with one exception. At some point early on, Sasha had taken her eyes off of Marcy for a minute and she had disappeared. Sasha was trying to talk her up a bit to some people who had asked who the party was for - she cherry picked the coolest parts of her friend’s abilities; how essential she was with some of the pranks they’d pulled, her lockpicking skills, she’d even managed to spin her tech savviness into sounding as impressive as it was. It'd all work a lot better if Marcy was there to take credit.

Sasha had sent Anne off to find her while she kept the party going but she hadn't- ah ha! Sasha spotted Anne near the drink stand holding two sodas, trapped in a conversation with Gabby. Sasha made her way over and tapped Gabby on the shoulder mid sentence. "Hey Gabby, I just saw Trent go off somewhere with Mindy."

Gabby gasped. "But he's dating her twin Cindy! I gotta scope this out, sorry Anne, chat with you later."

Anne let out a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Sash. Gabby's great, but she can be a lot."

"You have got to learn how to tell people to shut up," Sasha suggested. "Did you find Marcy?"

Anne nodded. "Yeah, she’s hiding out upstairs in your room. I think she got... overwhelmed by everyone." She eyed the crowd around them. "I was just popping down to let you know and grab us some sodas."

Sasha pinched the bridge of her nose. She figured that was the case but had hoped she was wrong. "Alright, whatever, bring her back down," she ordered with a gesture. Anne looked unsure and Sasha put a hand on her hip, raised a brow, and waited for her to speak her mind.

Anne lowered her voice and leaned in, "I really don't think that's a great idea, Sash. When I found her she was doing one of her calming tricks while hiding in your closet."

"Ugh..." Sasha felt a bubbling annoyance at the back of her mind. If Marcy got to that state while out in front of everyone it would torch all the work Sasha had put in for her that night.

Not hearing any actual disagreement, Anne tilted herself back towards the house. "Gonna go chill with her for a bit. She has a copy of that board game Railway Cartels on her phone."

"Yeah. Fine." Sasha waved to dismiss her. When Anne didn't immediately leave, Sasha gave her a flat stare. "What?"

"I think she'd appreciate it if you came up and played a round..."

Sasha shook her head. "Anne, I need to stay down here to make sure the party keeps going." Just because she wanted to wreck the place a bit didn't mean she wanted it to burn down.

"...Alright." Anne shrugged and headed back inside, exchanging short greetings with a few people as she passed by.

Sasha took a moment to calm down. She wasn't sure what to do. Whenever they hung out with smaller groups Marcy would just play on her Shift on her own. If anyone asked her about it Sasha had to cut her off before she went on a twenty minute diatribe about it. She just wanted Marcy to be socially competent, was that so much to ask? It was such a hassle to cover for her all the-

"Who’s Marcy again?" Sasha heard the whisper behind her and glanced back. Brad, who had asked the question, was sitting on the diving board. He'd been speaking to Carly, her cheer-squad subordinate, who was standing over him.

Carly finished the last of her soda before crushing the can and throwing it over her shoulder. "You know her. She's that little Asian dork Sasha keeps around to do her homework." Sasha clenched her fist as she turned towards the two of them, a saccharine smile fixed firmly in place. Carly held two fingers up in greeting. "Hey Sash, great party."

"Heeeeey~ thanks," she said in an overly sweet tone. "What were you two talking about?"

Carly made a show of inspecting her nails. "Oh, nothing Sash. Thanks for the inv-"

"’Cause it sounded like you thought I couldn't do my own homework?" Sasha slowly leached venom into her words.

Carly looked up, annoyed. "Not that you can't- just…" She shrugged and snickered. "I mean, why else would you keep the spaz around?"

The words hung in the air for a moment while Sasha affixed the girl with death glare. Carly raised a brow in challenge as she waited for an answer. Sasha gave her one by shoving her into the pool. There was a loud splash and a sudden hush fell over the patio.

Sasha was aware of the many stares she was getting from the people all around the pool, but she squatted down next to the edge and kept her eyes on the water, waiting for Carly to emerge. She struggled to the surface, sopping wet. Trails of makeup ran down her face. She coughed out the chlorinated water as she stared up at Sasha with disgust. “What the hell is-”

Sasha’s voice stayed low as she leaned into Carly’s space. “sh*t-talk my friends again and you’re off the squad. Choose your next words very carefully.”

Carly froze under Sasha’s glare and her eyes darted around the pool. The entire party waited with baited breath for one of them to break the sudden quiet.

“...Uh. Come on in guys, the water’s great!”

Sasha gave her an approving grin and patted her on the shoulder. “Yeah, heated pool,” Sasha bragged. “Enjoy!”

“Woooo!” One of the boys from track and field tore off his shirt and cannonballed himself into the middle of the pool, dumping another deluge of water on Carly’s head. He was followed by a number of others as the tension in the air finally broke.

Sasha lingered long enough to see Brad haul Carly out of the water. The soaked girl marched into the house in a huff, her socks squishing and squeaking with every step. Sasha gave her a little wave as she left.

It was good to be the queen.

Sasha let out a slow breath through her nose. Another little fire put out. If Marcy didn’t learn to blend in then things were only going to get harder when they got to high school.

Sasha laid on her back in the dark of her palace bedchamber. A fancy old wooden bed frame with a richly decorated canopy served as the backdrop for the searing light of her phone screen. One hand held up her phone while the other clutched her overstuffed pillow tight to her chest.

Most of the apps on her phone were basically wasting space; she mostly used the camera function these days. She'd even deleted a few apps to make room for more pictures. At the moment, however, she was looking at her calendar function. It was still littered with weekly reminders, color coded for which week she'd be at Mom or Dad's. Mostly useless and silenced. Still, there was one she’d had her eye on for over a week.

9/13: Mar-Mar's B-Day!

Sasha clicked on the event and a selfie of her and Marcy popped up, taken sometime back in fifth grade when Sasha had finally gotten a phone and first set up the event. Marcy beamed and held up a peace sign while Sasha stuck her tongue out playfully at the camera, one arm slung casually over Marcy's shoulder.

Sasha had been waiting for Marcy to bring it up. At first, Sasha thought it might have slipped her mind, but she'd checked Marcy's phone and the time and day matched Sasha's. So the possibilities were either A: Marcy didn't mention it because she didn't want Sasha to screw it up like last year, or B: She didn’t think she deserved one. Both possibilities made Sasha's heart clench unpleasantly, and she wasn't sure which one was worse.

Sasha took a moment to indulge the pit in her chest, letting herself just... feel bad instead of shoving aside the guilt. Considering how refreshed she had felt after confiding in Marcy; clearly stuffing all her feelings in a tiny box so she didn't have to deal with them was not working.

Still, that didn't mean she had to wallow in it. She sat up, grabbed a bowl of marshmallows she had forced the royal chefs to figure out how to make, and swung her feet over the side of the bed to head to the balcony that joined her room to the Plantars'. She suppressed a shiver at the chill as she passed into the open night air and made her way to the opposite room. She cracked the door open; as she expected, Sprig was on the closest bed to the door.

It took three marshmallows, but she finally managed to wake him up. Sprig woke up blurry eyed and looked around in confusion until he spotted Sasha in the doorway. He yawned as he turned towards Marcy. "Hey Marcy-" Sasha beaned the kid with another marshmallow and he turned around, confused. Sasha motioned for him to come over. Sprig started to get up, but paused to toss a few of the marshmallows into his mouth before hopping over. He leaned on the door and rubbed his eyes. After swallowing the sweets he looked up at her. "Sasha? What's up?"

"Hey, I'll try to make this quick." Sasha squatted down low to be closer to eye level. "What do you frogs do for your birthdays?"

Sprig blinked, really waking up now. "Huh? Why?"

Sasha sighed and sat down. "Marcy didn’t say anything?”

Sprig paused for a moment. "...No?"

So she hadn't mentioned it to them either. "It's Marcy's birthday tomorrow. Or-" Sasha fished out her phone; it was past midnight. "Technically, today.”

"Oh. Okay. Hm... wonder where we can get mud for the crown at this hour," Sprig hummed thoughtfully.

Sasha closed her eyes. "Of course you need mud..." she mumbled under her breath. Open mind Waybright, open mind. "It's fine, I'll get some of the palace’s gardeners to dig some up. Anything else you need?"

"No, that should be about it," Sprig said, unconcerned.

"And whatever it is, when do you do it?" Sasha asked. She unlocked her phone and opened a day planner.

"Oh, in the morning usually," Sprig said casually.

" All morning, or...?"

"No, we're usually done before breakfast," he supplied cheerfully.

"Alright, thanks Sq- Sprig. You can get back to bed." Sasha started to organize her loose ideas into a schedule with that information in hand. It was pretty much ideal; Sasha could make preparations while they did their little tradition. As Sasha added in event after event, occasionally humming to herself as she switched things around, she realized that Sprig hadn't left yet. She raised a brow in question.

Sprig sat down across from Sasha, legs crossed underneath himself and eyes curious. "So, what do humans do for their birthdays?"

"Well, it's basically a little holiday," Sasha explained absently. "Everyone has their own traditions, but most people spend it with friends - and family I guess," she added reluctantly. "There’s cake, gifts, sleepovers, the works."

Sprig grinned in excitement and rocked back and forth. “Oh wow, that sounds amazing! I can’t wait!”

Sasha paused in her planning as she processed his words. Of course he was going to want to come, and of course Marcy would want him along. She had been looking forward to having a fun day on the town with Marcy; she hadn’t really accounted for Marcy’s little frog family.

Sprig’s wide smile faded as he looked up at her. “...Something wrong, Sasha?”

Sasha’s thoughts went into overdrive, and she felt herself fall into familiar currents. The kid had started to look up to her, and she knew she could apply enough pressure to get him to back off. It wouldn’t even be hard. But as she looked down at him, all she could think about was the moment when he had jumped between her and a knife, and she forced herself to divert her initial line of thinking. She blew out a breath. Alright, emotional honesty time. Hooray. “Okay, so you know how Marcy kind of has trouble making friends?” Sasha started.

“No?”

“Well back on- wait, what do you mean ‘no’?”

Sprig shrugged. “That hasn’t really been my experience? We became friends pretty quick after meeting. Her and Maddie hit it off instantly. She won over Hop Pop even though he thought that she was an evil spirit that had stolen my soul, and she won over Polly even after it became clear that she wasn’t.”

Sasha blanched at that. “They thought what?”

“Long story. It wasn’t true. Anyways, she’s not the best with words, but she seems to be able to make friends when she tries. I mean, she also has a tendency to make a lot of enemies too. Is that what you meant?”

“Hm…” Sasha took a moment to absorb that information, but eventually regained her footing. “Okay. Well, back home it was more of a problem for her. Anne and I were the only ones looking out for her.” More so than Sasha had realized, in retrospect. “So it was usually on us to plan and celebrate her birthday. Usually it was just the three of us, and I think that it meant a lot to Marcy,” Sasha explained.

“Okay?” Sprig prodded.

Sasha ground her teeth a moment before she continued. “Only last year, I fumbled it. Bad.”

Sprig’s eyes widened as he nodded. "Oh! So you wanted to make it up to her!"

“Right.” Alright, almost through, just need to ask. “So-”

“Sure, we can give you two some space.”

Sasha paused. If she’d been talking to anyone else, Sasha would suspect a trap. "Really? You're... fine with that?"

Sprig shrugged. "Well... I mean, it sounds fun, but thanks to you we'll be able to do our frog traditions with Marcy. It only seems fair you get to do your human ones."

"Right... Thanks, Sprig.” Sasha felt the tension leave her shoulders. “Okay, but honestly, Marcy would definitely want you frogs to be a part of this. So, how's this: You all take the morning, I'll take her for the afternoon, then we meet up for the rest of the day?"

"Wow, it lasts all day?" Sprig said, surprised. "Birthdays must be really special."

"They should be... come on." She handed Sprig the bowl of marshmallows. "You want to help me plan stuff?"

Sprig grabbed a fistful of marshmallows and threw them into his mouth as he followed behind her. "Yeah, sure! I'm too excited to sleep anyways."

Marcy groggily awoke to the sounds of clattering and shushing.

"Polly! Quiet, you'll wake her up!" Sprig hissed. They were clustered near the room door if Marcy had to guess.

"Well, you almost broke it!" Polly retorted.

Hop Pop's voice was a little quieter in comparison, but he was still audible to Marcy’s straining ears. "The both of you need to hush up or you'll wake her up."

Marcy couldn't help but smile. She wasn't sure what the cause was, but she could tell that her family had some kind of surprise in mind for her. She kept still in the position she had awoken in and listened with growing excitement as things were shuffled around in preparation.

When things eventually calmed down, Sprig voiced a concern. "Should we let her sleep in?"

Hop Pop hummed at that. "Well, maybe... but then it'll be cold."

Oh, is breakfast already prepared? Do I pretend to wake up? I don’t want to spoil-

"Bored," Polly stated flatly. Marcy felt the impact of her sister landing near her head and then a tiny flipper shaking her shoulder. "Hey sis, wake up!"

Marcy made a show of slowly waking up, stretching out her arms before opening her eyes to see her family assembled on the empty portions of her spacious bed. Sprig held a tray of flapjacks and a glass filled with juice. Polly eagerly held out a pebble-studded mud tiara, and there was a box sitting behind Hop Pop.

"Hoppy Birthday Marcy!" the three of them announced at once.

Marcy smiled, feeling lost as she took the tiara from Polly and Sprig placed the tray of food on her lap. "Birthday? But..." She paused and quickly did some math in her head. She knew they left Earth on April ninth, since that was Anne's birthday, and it had been a hundred and fifty-seven days since then which made it... September thirteenth! "Oh, huh, I guess it is!" She'd been so busy with everything she hadn't really been thinking in Earth-time. She'd mostly adjusted to the Royal Calendar. So that was one mystery solved, which still left another. "How did you guys know?" She couldn't remember telling them her birthday before. Marcy picked up a little saucer of syrup to pour over her pancakes.

Sprig took a seat next to Marcy and claimed several pancakes from the tray for himself and Polly. "Sasha told me!" he explained. He opened his mouth wide to stuff several pieces of pancake into it, but ended up yawning instead, and rubbed at his eyes. “In the middle of the night.”

Marcy smiled, touched that Sasha had kept track of when her birthday would be. The three of them enjoyed the pancakes while Hop Pop complained about the 'fancy shmancy' kitchen of the palace. Polly bragged about how she had constructed the tiara's structure, while Sprig pointed out the different bits of flourish he had added to the crown. Marcy simply basked in the cozy morning breakfast.

Marcy dabbed her face clean on her napkin as they all finished up, not envying the palace servants who would have to trade out her sheets. She'd tried to eat neatly but that sentiment had not been shared by her siblings. "Thanks, this is all so sweet everyone. I had read that frog birthdays were pretty low-key. Is breakfast in bed a Plantar tradition?" she asked curiously. She hadn't read anything about it in the family tome.

Hop Pop opened his mouth but Sprig interjected. "Nope!"

Marcy cast a questioning eye towards Hop Pop, who was rolling his eyes at Sprig. "Well, it wasn't, but Sasha let us know that birthdays are kind of a big deal on your side of things. So we can start one or two," he said with a smile. "It’s a little late, considering you're already wearing the crown, but would you care to participate in our traditions?"

Marcy nodded enthusiastically. "Oh, definitely! So there's the whole moment of reflection right?" Marcy had poured over a folksy old tome of frog traditions when she’d first been adopted by the Plantars.

Hop Pop nodded. "You got it. Take a moment to reflect on your time. From when you were a poll-" he paused, but recovered quickly. "-Well, your time alive. Think about where you've been and where you're going."

Marcy nodded. "Alright, is there any place I'm supposed to reflect from, or…?" Marcy looked around the room; she wanted to make sure she got this right.

"Nowhere special," Sprig advised casually. "I like looking out the window, but it's your call."

Marcy nodded again. "Alright... hmmm." Marcy pulled her legs into a cross legged position as she looked up toward the ceiling. Above the bed was a rich green canopy with a geometric design woven through it in black thread. As she followed a single thread through the interweaving shapes, she found her mind already drifting.

Okay, so reflecting, reflecting on my past. Let’s… see. Well, there was growing up in LA, of course. I don’t have too many memories from before I was four, and the ones I do have…

Well that was okay, ‘cause I met Anne soon after. The two of us were as thick as thieves right up... right up until I betrayed her trust, kidnapped her, and somehow tricked her into dating me.

…But I also met Sasha back then! And I’ve somehow managed to salvage that friendship. At… at least for now...

Then there was coming to Amphibia and meeting my adoptive family and finding a real home. Going on adventures with Sprig, tinkering with Polly, and working the farm with Hop Pop... and they seem to care about me even though I almost ruined their lives...

Then there were the lives I ruined, or ended, at Toad Tower...

Marcy's mind went in circles as it took inventory on everything that had happened to her right up until she was snapped back to reality by a tug on her pajama shirt from Sprig. She wasn't sure how long she had been lost in her thoughts, but by the looks on her family's faces, it was longer than what was considered normal. She swallowed down the lump in her throat and tried to relax out of the frown that had found its way to her face. "Sorry."

Hop Pop shook his head. "Nothin' to be sorry bout. You alright? You were lost to us for a minute there."

"Yeah!" Marcy forced a cheerful tone to reassure them, but at their skeptical faces she toned it down. "Yeah... just had a lot to reflect on, it turns out." Marcy felt Sprig wrap himself around her from one side, followed by Polly on the other. Marcy smiled and scrunched down to pull both of them into a hug. "Thanks..." she hummed.

"Well, luckily there's another human tradition Sasha informed us of," Hop Pop said after a moment, pulling a large green box from behind his back.

"A present? On such short notice?" Marcy took the box from Hop Pop. It had a surprising heft to it.

Hop Pop nodded. "Actually, we'd planned to give this to you a few days ago, but the hospitalization sort of delayed things. This seemed like a great opportunity."

"Seems like a good tradition to me," Sprig said. "Being able to show your appreciation for someone with material things."

Polly nodded. "I'd like one of those multi tool things you told me about," she informed shamelessly. "You know, when my birthday comes up in a few months."

Marcy rolled her eyes, but made a mental note of that before examining the gift. It was a green clothing box held shut by a golden ribbon. Marcy deftly undid the knot on the ribbon and lifted the lid. The Plantars vacated the bed as Marcy dug through two layers of tissue paper with abandon.

She was greeted by the smooth texture of oilskin cloth dyed green. Framed perfectly in the box was the outline of a golden shield with the Plantar family 'P' sitting in the middle of it. Marcy gently lifted the garment out, feeling the smooth treated cotton between her fingers. With building excitement, Marcy held it up in shaking hands and let the garment unravel to reveal a long coat.

"You got me a duster coat!?" Marcy shouted with excitement. She scrambled out of bed and immediately tripped in her rush. "I'm okay!" she assured as she got up to her feet and held the coat out in front of her. It was perfectly sized for her. Along the bottom, she noticed gold detailing, and she flipped it over to find a beautiful field of rising wheat growing up from the bottom hem of the coat. Unable to wait another moment, Marcy slipped the coat over her pajama shirt and spun around, feeling the tail of her cloak swish in her wake. "Ahh, this is so cool!" Marcy jumped up and down in excitement. "How did you guys know?"

Polly raised a flipper. "I saw you doodling yourself in one a little while back. I asked you what it was and you talked about it. For like a while."

Oh yeah! Marcy grabbed a bit of the back to hold it up ."Did you know that the vertical cut up the back was-"

"For riding mounts?" Polly finished with a smirk. "Yeah, I remember. I made sure they got the design just right."

"It's perfect." Marcy smiled sheepishly.

Hop Pop tilted his head. "Did they get the pockets right?"

Marcy stuffed her hands down into her duster's pockets. "Oh yeah, these are perfect." She always loved having a place to rest her hands.

"I think he was talking about the other ones." Sprig opened up one side of his vest to reveal his slingshot and holster. "My idea, by the way."

Marcy pulled her hand out from her pocket and opened up her coat, which revealed half a dozen pockets of varying sizes. She quickly repeated the gesture on the other side to reveal a similar array. "Oh my frog, I could fit so much stuff in here!" Marcy dove for her shoulder bag and started to see how much of her inventory she could stuff into her new coat of holding. There were little loops for potion vials and a pocket just deep enough for her pencils and even one perfect for her taser and-

"Well kids, I think she likes it," Hop Pop announced proudly.

Marcy spun around. "I do! I do! Thank you all so much!" Marcy buzzed with joy.

A brief knock came from the balcony door before Sasha pushed her way inside, grinning widely. "Hey girlfriend! Happy birthday!"

"Sasha!" Marcy grinned, then grabbed the edges of her coat to show it off. "Look, new coat!" Marcy spun to show off the back and detailing. As she did so her foot got tangled on some tossed aside bedsheet and she started to trip. "Whup-"

Marcy heard her family lurch into motion as she flailed for balance, but before she could fall completely she felt a securing hand on her back. "Careful there, Marbles," Sasha hummed as she tilted Marcy back upright. "I see you got your first present. Looks good!" Sasha observed. She turned to acknowledge the Plantars. "Hey frogs, how's it going?"

"Good morning Sasha!" Sprig greeted, hopping up to a bookcase.

"Morning Squirt. Hey Marcy, I got some good news." From her side Sasha lifted a golden, rune-etched cup. "Taadaa!"

"The Cup of Oaths!" Marcy snatched it from Sasha’s hand and looked it over. "I thought we lost this down in the catacombs!"

"Yeah, the people cleaning up the place found it in the rubble." Sasha shrugged.

Marcy nodded; it didn't look too worse for wear. "I still can't believe those cultists collapsed the catacombs just to cover their escape..." Even putting aside the great historic loss, it had condemned all of their unconscious companions to death beneath the rubble.

Hop Pop shrugged. "Well if they had their priorities straight, they wouldn't be cultists."

Marcy nodded; that did track with her experience back in Gardington. Before she could really think any deeper on it, Sasha waved dismissively. "Aaaanyway. I got a whole day planned out for us."

"Oh! Yeah, let's go." Marcy managed one purposeful step towards the door before Sasha hooked a hand into her collar to stop her. She stumbled to a halt and looked at Sasha indignantly. "What?"

Sasha fixed her with a deadpan stare. Her eyes momentarily flicked downwards before returning to Marcy’s face. Marcy followed her gaze and suddenly remembered that she was still in her pajamas. "Uh... give me just a few minutes to get ready." Marcy bent to scoop up her shirt and skirt from the floor.

"Well, you all have fun, I've got a few appointments to get to today," Hop Pop said. A chorus of little clicks and pops filled the air as he stood up and stretched.

"See ya Hop Pop!" Polly and Sprig intoned together.

Marcy straightened up and gave Hop Pop a little wave from around her bundle of clothes. "Have a good day Hop Pop, thanks for the flapjacks and the gift!"

"You're very welcome," Hop Pop said with a paternal smile. He looked over at Sasha. "Sprig said the plan was to drop him and Polly off around tea time?"

"At the hemisphere hotel, yeah," Sasha confirmed. "Say hey to Yunan for me."

"Will do! Sprig, Polly, I’ll see you this afternoon." Hop Pop called over his shoulder as he disappeared through the door.

"Sounds good," Sprig said with a smile.

"Don't be late!" added Polly.

Marcy paused at the door to the bathroom to look back into the room. Sasha and Polly bantered back and forth as Sprig fed Marcy’s menagerie of pets. Marcy’s eyes darted around anxiously as she took in the scene; some part of her brain was still worried that something was wrong, but Sasha and her siblings looked calm and relaxed. Sasha looked over at her. “Hey, Marce, what’s the holdup? Everything okay?” Her words were accompanied by an easygoing smile which looked, for the first time in a long while, unbarbed.

Marcy smiled back. "Yeah! Yeah, sorry, just spacing. Give me a minute to get cleaned up." Marcy bustled into the washroom. She grabbed a boil bead from a little jar to toss into the large, pre-filled bath. The room slowly began to fill with a gentle haze of steam as she carefully laid out her new coat. She undressed and slipped into the perfectly heated water, letting out a relieved sigh as the last of the tension bled from her shoulders.

Marcy let her mind wander as she washed up, curious what Sasha had planned for the day. She usually had great ideas for fun things to do and mischief to get up to. Her train of thought was interrupted by a knock on the door. "Uh... occupied?" Marcy called out awkwardly. She sank beneath the water line and hid behind the ornate lip of the tub.

Sasha’s voice sounded through the door. “Hey, had an idea. So I have a pretty full plan for the day, but I wanted to carve out some time in case there was anything you especially wanted to do. I figure we’ve got a lot more freedom here than back home.”

"... what?" Marcy quickly finished cleaning herself and reached for a fluffy towel that was left near the tub.

"Just something to think on!" Sasha said. "Anything you've wanted to do but haven’t had the chance to try. I’m happy to just hang out in town, but I figured since we have the opportunity to do basically whatever we want, we should take it."

Marcy pondered the words as she dried her hair and got dressed. Even with everything that had gone wrong, she'd gotten to do a lot since coming to Amphibia. Things she didn't think were realistic at all. Though her mind did drift back to one thing she’d longed for back home…

Sasha was waiting for her outside the bathroom, scrolling through something on her phone. "It's all good if you just want to hang out, but..." she looked up at Marcy, whose hand was ghosting over her ear. "... you think of something?"

"I want to get my ears pierced," Marcy murmured.

Marcy glanced up to gauge Sasha’s reaction and watched as the blonde's face shifted into wonder and then excitement. "Yes! Yes, perfect, exactly the kind of thing I was thinking of!"

"It was?" Marcy felt herself bubble with excitement at the prospect.

"Yes. Come on, get your shoes on!" Sasha encouraged with a pat on the back.

Marcy scrambled over to the bed and grabbed her shoes. Sprig hopped over from where he had been restringing his slingshot, a faint look of concern on his face. "Uh… did I hear something about getting pierced?"

Marcy looked up at him as she tied her ratty brown sneakers into place. Their arches had been basically destroyed after half a year in Amphibia, so she had to tie them on tight. "Piercing, you know like... like..." Marcy mentally sifted through the inhabitants of Wartwood, trying to think of someone who had something pierced, but she came up empty-handed. "Like..." She frowned and considered the other amphibians they had run into for an example, but remained thoroughly stumped.

"Don’t sweat, Marce. I got it." Sasha said, stepping forward. "So, Squirt: basically, we're going to find someone to stab your sister."

"What!?" Sprig shouted.

"Cool!" Polly called out from where she was cleaning some of Frobo's new parts.

"Sasha!" Marcy groused as she tied the knot on her second shoe and stood up.

Sasha held up her hands placatingly. "Alright, sorry, that was misleading." She turned back to Sprig. "We're going to pay someone to stab your sister."

"Sasha!" Marcy swatted her friend on the arm before turning to Sprig. "Don't worry, I'll be fine."

"Oh, good." Sprig relaxed a little. "So you're not getting stabbed?"

Marcy pursed her lips for a moment. "...Weeeeeeell…" Marcy said awkwardly, much to Sprig's distress. She darted a look at Sasha when she started snickering. "In any case, it should be fine."

"Should?" Sprig repeated worriedly.

" Will . Be fine," Marcy corrected. "Right, Sasha?"

"Oh yeah sure, totally."

Marcy grabbed Sasha by the shoulders and started to push her towards the door. "See you two later!"

"See you half-pint, quarter-pint!" Sasha called over her shoulder between snickers and pushed through the door.

Marcy scanned through the blinding array of jewelry on display. Rings decorated with intricate bands made of gems and crystal. Necklaces of silver links studded with rubies. It was all sort of overwhelming to Marcy. "Hey Sasha? I don't know if I can afford anything here. Maybe we should check out a cheaper place?"

Sasha was browsing through a nearby tray of bracelets. "Don't worry about it, Mar-Mar. Besides, we're not getting costume jewelry for our first earrings."

"We're?" Marcy moved onto another section of the counter.

"Yeah, tired of clip-ons. We'll get pierced together," Sasha announced casually.

Marcy nodded, glad she wasn't going to be the only one doing it.

Sasha looked across the store to a well dressed newt who stood nearby, anxiously rubbing his hands together. "Hey, where're the earrings?"

The newt co*cked his head to the side. "I'm... sorry, what rings?"

"Ear- ah..." Sasha paused as Marcy watched the realization that amphibians had no ears suddenly dawn upon her. Marcy couldn’t help but snicker a little, eliciting an eye roll from her friend. Sasha returned her gaze to the newt. "Right, okay. We'll need some custom commissions, you do those?"

The newt nodded. "Oh but of course, we would be honored. Having someone such as yourself and your..." he looked over at Marcy, who gave a timid little wave, "...friend, would be an honor."

Sasha lifted her hair out of the way. "Great, so earrings are bits of jewelry that hang from these bits here..."

As Sasha explained the concept of an earring to the gentleman, Marcy's eyes drifted back to the designs arrayed in front of her. The bits and bobs were pretty, but nothing quite suited her. She ran her hands along the bottom of the raised wooden case. It was near the end of the row where something finally caught her eye.

It was in a case of what appeared to be long thick needles with a bit of jewelry at one end. Maybe this was what those old people hat pins were? Marcy reached down into the case and plucked out a golden pin. Its head was a crescent with an inset, ruby red gemstone cut into the same shape. Marcy turned it over in her hands, lost in thought.

"Whatcha looking at?" Sasha leaned over Marcy's shoulder and looked at the hatpin in her hand. "...that a moon?"

"Yeah. On the way here, some pirates called me the ‘Red Moon Witch.’" Marcy twisted the trinket back and forth, watching the light gleam off the gem at different angles. Her lips curled into a small smile. "I think I like it."

"...Yeah?"

"Yeah," Marcy said with confidence. She doubted she was going to shake that title any time soon. Might as well embrace it.

"Alright," Sasha said breezily as she leaned over to search through the same case. "Well, if you're doing that..." She pulled up a golden hairpin, shaped like a sun. "Might as well commit to it." She turned back towards the newt who was lurking nearby. "Hey, Jeeves, think we could get these modified?" She waggled her chosen pin towards him.

The sounds of Newtopian street life echoed down the little alleyway that Marcy found herself in. She crouched down over a bubbling test tube that spewed out a faintly lemon-scented steam. Marcy held a piece of instant ice against her ear. It was almost totally numb at this point.

After they had put in their order with the jeweler, Marcy and Sasha had to reckon with the fact that they probably wouldn’t be able to find any place in Newtopia set up to perform piercings. They had asked the jeweler, but he had never heard of such a practice among newts.

Fortunately, what they lacked in proper equipment, they made up for in tenacity - and safety pins.

"Hey, Marce, the pins ready?" Sasha asked, reentering the alleyway.

The steam pouring out of the test tube started to abate. "Yep! Should be sanitized now," Marcy said, picking up the test tube and swirling the safety pins around. "You got the cork?"

"Got it." Sasha held up a little wine cork. "What's this for again?"

Marcy tapped the back of her ear. "You hold it behind the lobe to catch the safety pin."

Sasha nodded in understanding, "Can't believe you were thinking of doing this by yourself..." she said, impressed. Then she held out a gloved hand. "Alright, you ready?"

Marcy nodded, removing the bit of ice and flicking at her earlobe. "Yeah, all ready." She poured one of the two safety pins out into Sasha's waiting palm. They moved to sit on one of the cramped wooden crates that dotted the alley.

Sasha pushed back Marcy's hair. "Hold this back?" she requested and Marcy complied, reaching back and pinning her hair with her hand. Marcy flinched as Sasha leaned in and tucked the cork behind Marcy's ear. Sasha paused. "You know, we don't have to do this. If it helps, I can go first?"

"No!" Marcy said quickly. Sasha stared at her doubtfully. "Sorry, just… excited and nervous... Thanks for checking, though," Marcy explained.

"Sure. Alright, just a quick poke and we'll be done. Then it's my turn." Sasha leaned in close, and, even through the numbness, Marcy could feel the prick of the safety pin against her earlobe. "Three... two..."

Sasha reached up to scratch at her ear again and Marcy grabbed her wrist. "Don't scratch at it Sash, you'll get an infection."

"How is it so itchy?" Sasha complained. The two of them now wore matching safety pins, Marcy on her left ear and Sasha on her right. The crackle of frying oil accompanied their conversation as they waited off to the side of the stall.

"Order up!" an elderly purple newt said as he poked his head out of the stall. He wore a little paper hat and offered up a narrow paper bag. Marcy stepped forward to retrieve it. The intoxicating smell of fried dough and glazed sugar wafted out of the bag. Two long skewers stuck out of two of the dough balls.

Marcy plucked out one of the skewers. "Oooh, a donut hole!"

"Dough wha- no, we sell them whole, no bits left out." The newt looked at her quizzically as he leaned against his stand.

Marcy frowned before realizing what was happening. "No, hole, like a hole in the ground. Donut hole."

The newt’s expression became exasperated. "How in the frog are you supposed to eat a hole? N’ we don’t sell dough nots, we sell oil cakes here."

Well that's a straightforward name. "No, see, where we're from, donuts are round, but they have a hole- here, wait, let me draw you a picture." Marcy reached into her coat to retrieve a pencil but felt Sasha link arms with her.

"Thanks, Bakes. I'll see you next time," Sasha said, slapping down a handful of coppers before tugging Marcy away.

Bakes flicked a confused frown Marcy's way before tipping his hat. "A good day to you captain. Tell Little Yunny to stay safe out there."

"Will do! See ya!" Sasha said, leading Marcy away a bit before unlinking their arms.

The two walked together in silence a while before Marcy caught on to her mistake.. "I... misread the situation again, didn't I?"

"Little bit," Sasha confirmed without judgment.

Marcy sighed. She thought they had been having a fun exchange over etymology. There were so many similarities between English and Amphibian, even small deviations were interesting to her.

"Don't worry, Mar-Mar. Here, try one." Sasha grabbed a skewer and stabbed one of the cakes. She pulled it out and blew on it a few times before she popped it into her mouth.

Marcy speared one of her own. "What's so special about them?" Marcy looked over her own donut hole. She liked donuts as much as the next girl, but Sasha had hyped them up a lot.

"Juss," Sasha paused to swallow. "Just trust me."

Marcy shrugged and bit the fried dough off the skewer, only to realize that she hadn't blown on it to cool it down. "Ah - Hot!" She waved a hand in front of her mouth for a few moments it took for it to cool down. However, after the burning stopped she tasted it for the first time. The glaze was simple but well made, easily improved by its near molten state having been freshly poured over the oil cakes. What blew her away though was the fried dough, fluffy and fresh in a way she had never had before. "Woah!"

"Right?" Sasha reached over and stabbed another cake.

"How is this so good? Some difference in the recipe?" Marcy theorized as she stabbed a second one, making sure to cool it off this time.

Sasha shook her head. "I don't think so, once it cools it just tastes like a normal donut. I think this is just how they taste fresh."

"They're incredible. How'd you find out about that place?"

"Yunan. Took me here the first time we returned to Newtopia."

"Wait, when he said 'Little Yunny'-"

Sasha nodded. "Yeah, apparently she worked there when she was little." Marcy pictured the brave general at the stall and started to giggle. Sasha looked over to her friend curiously, "...Okay, what's so funny about that?"

"Nothing, just… Do you think Yunan was just as intense back then?" Marcy asked with a smirk.

Sasha snickered into her hand, then struck a dramatic pose. "Welcome customer! Rest assured in your order, for I am the great assistant baker YUNAN!"

Marcy laughed before holding the bag aloft dramatically. "Scourge of the oil fryer, glazer of donuts!"

Sasha threw an arm around Marcy's shoulder and swept her skewer in front of her in a dramatic arc. "The youngest newt to ever make a hundred sales in one hour!"

The two of them laughed together as they walked through the busy streets. For a moment, Marcy could picture them back in the mall near Saint James. When they eventually managed to calm down, Marcy looked over at Sasha expectantly. "So, what's next on the agenda?"

"Well, we’ve still got some time before our appointment. Since you don't have to be a role model for a few hours, what would you say to a bit of mischief?" Sasha offered before skewering another donut hole.

"Hm... what did you have in mind?" Marcy inquired a bit hesitantly.

Sasha shrugged. "Could find some wall to vandalize."

Marcy thought over her options; she’d always liked doing graffiti with Sasha. There was something appealing about adding to the street art scattered across the city. There had been a couple of times Sasha and Anne had to drag Marcy away from her canvas when she failed to notice the approach of some cops. "Do you really think we could get away with that in broad daylight? We wouldn't have spray cans to speed things up." Though the imagery of doing some classic graffiti with traditional paint and brush did amuse her.

"Hm, true... how about a prank then?" Sasha suggested.

"Anyone in particular?" Marcy asked hesitantly. Sasha raised a brow, which was expected, they'd never really needed a specific target before. "I just... I don't know, I don't wanna cause problems for random people."

"Ah, gotcha," Sasha said. Marcy could tell she was trying to suppress disappointment.

Marcy stabbed into an oil cake. "I mean, it would be different if we had someone in mind, but-" Marcy suddenly felt herself get shouldered and set off balance before tripping over one of the cobblestones in the street. She fell hard on her knees, the bag of donuts launching out of her hand. Half the bag of sugary donuts settled into the dirty crevices of the medieval streets.

"Would you look where you're going?" came a snooty voice from above her. "I just got this jacket tailored."

Sasha knelt down to help her up. Marcy looked up to see a newt in fine, brightly colored clothing. He had a bulbous head and a tiny, pencil-thin mustache. He was dusting off his shoulder like she had soiled it somehow during the collision. "Ugh, you're that creature the king took in alongside those mud stained frogs. They really let you walk around unsupervised?" He rolled his eyes disdainfully as Marcy got to her feet and scowled at the man.

Sasha’s expression turned thunderous, and she pointed a finger at him angrily. "Hey, what's your problem? Do you know who-?"

"Ugh, and you! You're no different than that ridiculous sellsword who holds your leash. Think you're owed respect just because you saved some peasants out in the boonies?" The newt sneered. "You two might have the king's favor right now, but know this. Everyone remembers when you were a roach scrounging around the backstreets of Newtopia."

Marcy stared wide eyed at the newt before she glanced up to Sasha. She looked a hair's breadth away from killing the newt where he stood. One of her eyes twitched as her mouth failed her.

"Now, if you two are done gaping at your betters, I have important business to take care of." He turned away from them and strode down the street, trailed by a few tired-looking helpers.

The gawking eyes slowly moved away from them and foot traffic returned to normal.

"So..." Marcy started, voice low. "I know what I said, but what do you think about ruining that guy's day?"

"Day?" Sasha growled out. "We got an hour to kill, we can ruin his life."

A crescendo of shattering glass filled the air as a loose garbage beetle scooped a large crate of bottled wine out of a carriage and dumped it over its back and then on the ground. Birds swarmed another carriage, carrying away expensive jewelry. Gulches covered in rings, bracelets, and baubles glittered in the air as they fled the scene of the crime. A third carriage, which had once been filled with exotic but harmless creatures, had its cage’s bars bent open. Its exotic former cargo scampered through the city streets in every direction. Coastal kill-a-pillers mixed with white furred spiders and gold winged beetles as they explored the city around them.

The caravans had come to a stop in a large plaza at the base of a set of stairs that led up to the artisan district on the higher tier of the city. Servants rushed frantically from one end of the plaza to another as they tried and failed to get the situation under control. Some were using a selection of expensive-looking silks to cover what gemstones they could from the gulches. Others tried to wrangle the various critters before they could leave the scene entirely. A few were even trying to reason with the massive garbage beetle as it stained its shell with fermented grape juice.

The carriages’ owner, Count Cor’al, blustered uselessly in the middle of the chaos, only managing to fluster the servants further. After a few minutes, he stopped shouting and stared at the tableau in front of him. His tail fell to the ground behind him, and he dropped onto a bench next to the stairs. He hung his head in despair and stared at the ground.

This made him a perfect target for Marcy to drop the curse pouch down on him from above. She watched over the side to make sure the pouch hit the right target, then ducked out of sight when she heard a yelp of pain. She looked over to Sasha, who nodded towards the rest of the artisan district. They moved through the gathering crowd of newts that had been drawn to the sounds of chaos from the plaza below. It was tempting to linger and bask in their success, but they were too conspicuous. Better to just shuffle along before they drew attention to themselves. With everyone around them rushing over to gawk at the mess, it was easy to slip around a corner and out of sight.

Sasha stretched her arms over her head and gave a satisfied grunt. "Well Marcy, it's nice to see the months haven't left you rusty. That was some of our best work."

Marcy grinned at the compliment, keeping her shaking hands firmly in her pockets until the adrenaline died down. "Maybe, but I never would have had the opportunity to work my magic if you hadn't distracted the servants for me."

"Oh, it was pretty easy, all things considered," Sasha said with false modesty. "That pouch at the end was one of your curses, right?"

"Yep, the pita curse," Marcy said proudly. "One Maddie helped me design. Whenever he acts like a jerk, it will cause a sharp pain whenever he sits down, like sitting on a thumbtack. Makes it impossible to sit comfortably while it’s active. Goes dormant if you act decently."

"A nice final touch," Sasha commended. "So does ‘pita’ stand for something or did you just name it after bread?"

"P-I-T-A." Marcy held up a fist and lifted one finger with each of her following words. "Pain. In. The. Ass."

Sasha chuckled at the name. "Yeah, that tracks."

They weaved through the traffic of the artisan district, dodging carts loaded with crafting supplies and materials. Windows and display cases flanked the crowded city street, filled with products from jewelers, carpenters, smiths, and every other imaginable discipline. Vendors hawked their wares over the counters that partitioned their stores from their workshops.

As Marcy explained how she managed to lure the garbage beetle to the wine cart, Sasha's eyes flashed behind them. Marcy followed her gaze, but didn't see anything. "What's up?" Marcy hovered a pair of fingers over the back of her hand, ready to tap out a pattern.

"...Nothing. Thought I saw someone following us, but we're fine."

Marcy paused for a moment but stuffed her hands back in her pockets. "Still, all that scouting and such took a lot of time. We gonna make that appointment?"

Sasha fished out her phone, "We're cutting it close, but fortunately it's just up ahead." She gestured to a store front at the corner. The sign above the door shined with a gold rim, a fancy, stylized 'B' emblazoned in its center. Marcy could see mannequins in the window display, but couldn’t make out what they were wearing through the glare on the storefront window. "This guy is a bit much, but trust me, he's the best in town." A small bell jingled as Sasha held open the door.

Marcy walked through, eyes scanning curiously for the surprise. "The best at wha- woah!” The space was dominated by a number of display mannequins decked out in various armors. Not just practical armor, either – cool, stylish adventuring gear! Marcy's eyes leapt from option to option. It was as if someone had dropped her into her dream store.

Sasha walked out in front of Marcy, clearly pleased with herself. "I think it's about time we get you some new gear, Mar-Mar."

A pair of curtains were flung apart, revealing a flamboyant pink newt. He had a greasy updo of seaweed colored hair, and wore a fine, white suit with pearl-studded shoulder pads and a popped collar. He shielded his sunglass-covered eyes. "Oh! A good thing I have these shades, is that the Sun at my doorstep?"

"Hey Bernardo~" Sasha greeted. "This is my friend that I wrote to you about."

Bernardo nodded, then circled around Marcy with an intense gaze before returning to stand beside Sasha. "I have to say, this isn't as bad as you claimed," he said in a half-whisper.

"The coat's new," Sasha said.

"Ah, understood." He stepped forward and offered his hand. "Greetings! I am Bernardo, premier armorer of Newtopia. I’m here to provide the protection you need with the glamour you deserve!"

"Marcy Plantar, nice to meet you," she said and shook his hand.

"I see, I see," Bernardo said distractedly and snapped his fingers at a blue newt in a powdered wig, who immediately jumped to attention. Before Marcy could say anything else, she found herself shoved in front of a mirror as the newt tugged at her arms and continuously readjusted her to take her measurements. "I was told that you might have some... ideas… for what you want?" There was a reluctance in his tone that Marcy guessed had been born of many a commissioner with terrible taste.

"Oh, well, I might have a few..." Marcy reached into her coat, pulled out her journal, and flipped it open to one of the foremost pages from her early days with the Plantars. The section was filled with sketches of herself and the girls in various adventuring gear. One in particular showed Marcy standing with her arms around Anne and Sashaall three of them kitted out for a high fantasy quest. She shut the journal and pocketed it again. "Really, though, I'd like to hear your thoughts. I want to incorporate this coat, but otherwise I'm open to suggestions."

Bernardo regarded the coat and nodded. "Oh, we can certainly work with this. Come over to the drawing desk." They all walked over to the desk and Bernardo quickly laid out a fresh sheet of paper, while being handed a list of measurements from his silent assistant. He picked up a pencil, twirled it around, and started sketching models out. "Alright now, first thing's first: how prominently would you like your tail to be displayed?" Marcy side-eyed him and after a moment he shook his head. "Right, sorry, force of habit." He erased the tail he was part way through sketching. "Now, how do you tend to fight? Like your friend?"

"Sasha?" Marcy asked, curious. "No, I have more of a dex build. Planning to be more of a ranged fighter."

Bernardo nodded "Ah, so you'll need a quiver of some kind. The coat would likely interfere with a longbow, but maybe a small crossbow? Perhaps wrist-mounted…"

"Neither, actually, and no quiver needed. I have a different idea." Marcy reached for the graphite and started to sketch over the model. Bernardo hummed in understanding as the drawing took shape. "So you see, the ammo goes in these pouches, and-"

"Say no more, dear." Bernardo held up a hand. "I've made knife belts like these before, they look simply stunning. However, I think we can make it look a bit more appealing...."

"Oh, I was thinking of maybe having them be color coordinated!" Marcy quickly sketched out a color palette. "Do you have any swatches for like… metal, or-"

Bernardo scoffed. "Do I have swatches for metals-" He snapped and his assistant stepped up with a binder filled with an array of metals, each one a different color, texture, and alloy. "All of these are scraps I cut away from past projects. Tell me what you like. Now, what were you thinking for footwear?"

"Boots, definitely boots. Been trudging through the swamp in these and they have had it-"

Sasha smiled as Marcy lost herself in collaboration at the drawing table. She wandered towards the front of the store, taking a few selfies with her little safety pin piercing and a few candid shots of Marcy lost in concentration. However, every so often she'd cast a worried glance out to the street.

Sasha walked at the front of the pack, leading everyone else through the streets of Newtopia to her next little surprise. They had picked up, sigh, the World Hoppers from the Hemisphere Hotel after Marcy had put in her order with Bernardo. Hopediah and Felicia had both given them explicit instructions not to go spelunking in ancient ruins, then let them all loose with a number of complimentary iced teas for the road.

The topic of discussion, unsurprisingly, had been their freshly pierced ears.

Sasha looked back to see Maddie perched on one of Marcy's shoulders, tapping at the safety pin. "So let me get this straight. You humans just permanently damage your bodies for ornamentation?"

Marcy flinched in pain a couple of times before she reached up and covered her ear. "Basically yeah. And it's still sore."

"Cool! I wonder what I can pierce..." Polly declared, cradled in Marcy's arms. "Maybe I can grow one of these 'ears'..."

Ivy walked on the street next to Sprig, sucking down the last drops of her tea. "Ahh... so do all humans do this?"

Marcy shrugged. "Not all, though it's a rite of passage for many," she offered with a grin.

Sasha smiled at Marcy, proud of her lifelong friend. Sasha had tossed out that little bit of encouragement that morning, hoping to get Marcy to branch out just a bit. Marcy had taken that and ran with it wholeheartedly. As Sasha looked behind her, she caught Sprig giving her the stink eye as he sipped at his own tea. Sasha quirked an eyebrow at him. "Got somethin' to say?" she asked.

"You lied to me," Sprig accused sourly.

"Lied?" Sasha shrugged, already having an answer on lock. "I said that she'd get stabbed…" Sasha tapped at her own piercing, "...and agreed she'd be fine." She gestured back at Marcy. "Really, I couldn't have been more clear." Sasha looked forward again.

Sprig scrambled onto Sasha's shoulder to maintain eye contact. "You said it to mess with me."

"Well, duh," Sasha readily admitted, "Friends mess with each other, Squirt." To demonstrate, Sasha reached up and pulled his little cap down over his eyes. Sprig struggled to regain control until Sasha let go.

Once Sprig recovered his sight, he looked at Sasha for a few moments, seeming unsure. Sasha just smiled in response. Then he smiled mischievously back. "So does that mean I get to mess with you?"

"You can certainly try," Sasha declared, unconcerned.

The conversation behind them shifted, and Sprig hopped off of her shoulder to resume walking next to Ivy. Sasha looked back at Marcy once more; she was surrounded by her little frog friends and, to Sasha's satisfaction, seemed to have had a great birthday. While Sasha would never admit it out loud, part of her had been anxious that morning. That there might have been some hesitancy to go along with Sasha's plans, to spend time one on one. Silly in retrospect, but for once it was nice to be proven wrong.

The only possible hiccup was whoever the hell was following them.

Sasha was confident at this point that someone was following them. She hadn't gotten a good look at them, just a flash of a dark cloak out of the corner of her eye. At first she had been worried it was someone who had seen them mess with the count, but after a few hours that seemed unlikely.

There was the chance that it was some admirer, or even just someone curious about the humans, but Sasha worried that it was one of the cultists. Alone, they wouldn't be much of a threat, but if they got too chatty they could cause problems.

Sasha had managed to convince Marcy that the official account of what happened in the catacombs was the true one. The last thing Marcy needed was more guilt over doing what was necessary. She had saved them down there. Sasha had managed to convince the little ones to maintain the lie for Marcy's sake. Maddie and Ivy had been hesitant, but Sprig had backed up Sasha's assertion that Marcy would not take the truth well. But it wouldn't hold up if this guy clued Marcy in.

There was always the chance that it was just her own mind playing tricks on her. Her time in the field with Yunan had her jumping at shadows some days, and it wasn't like cultists were the only ones who wore dark cloaks. Still, she had a gut feeling about this.

Fortunately, she had a plan. They turned a corner to a plaza up ahead. The arcade was bathed in light, with a long line of people coming out of the door. Sasha kept her pace casual, wanting Marcy to stumble upon the place herself.

Marcy was mid-way through an explanation on the history of body piercings when Sasha heard the small gasp. "I... what?" she said, stunned.

Sasha stepped to the side so they could all gawk at the building.

"Oh yeah, you two are from the city, right?" Ivy asked. "What’s an ‘arcade’?”

Maddie looked over as well. "This place has been packed whenever we've gone by here."

Marcy looked genuinely fascinated by the building, speaking more to herself than the group. "Back in our world it was a place full of games and stuff, like the ones on my Shift... How does this work? Is it all physical machines, or…?

Sasha had intended for this to inspire excitement, but this was fine too. When it came to Marcy, a puzzle was as good a gift as anything else. The group started to move towards the line that extended from the front door. As they walked, Sasha spotted a few guards casually patrolling through the area. She caught their eyes and gestured for them to follow her.

The rest of the group started towards the back of the line, but Sasha confidently redirected them straight towards the front door. The skeevy little newt that owned the place, Barni Cole, waited there next to the bouncer. He spotted Sasha approaching and lit up. "Ah, C-Captain Waybright! Welcome, are these your friends? Jed, let them on through."

The bouncer nodded, undid a velvet rope, and pushed open the door. The room beyond looked like it could have come straight out of a strip mall. Neon mushrooms provided harsh, disorienting light. A cacophony of beeps, boops, and bings from the various machines sung through the door accompanied by the drumroll of skee balls speeding along a track.

"Woah!" The rest of the group staggered to a halt at the threshold before the three frogs jumped through the door, followed quickly by Marcy and Polly. They looked around at the environment in awe.

A commotion started up from the line, but Barni stepped up and raised his hands for silence. "We got a reservation today. Everyone settle down!" Sasha smirked at the crowd. Barni climbed up a wall to speak surreptitiously with Sasha. "So, uh, that little thing we discussed…"

"No one will hear about it," Sasha promised. Barni looked relieved. Sasha honestly didn't know what he was talking about. Back when Marcy was working herself into a fervor, Sasha had approached the owner to see about skipping the line as soon as Sasha could pry Marcy away from the library. When he was resistant to the idea, Sasha made a few vague accusations and cold read his reactions. She promised to keep it all a secret in exchange for a fast pass into the arcade.

Later, she’d asked the Night Guard to look into him. There was some questionable food sourcing and a few creepy pastimes, but nothing really arrest-worthy.

Marcy peaked her head into the room, but lingered in the doorway and looked back at Sasha expectantly. Then her face shifted to confusion at the sound of booted footfalls. Sasha feigned surprise and followed her gaze to the soldiers Sasha had signaled to come her way.

"Captain?" The four guards snapped off a salute.

Sasha made a show of flicking a look between the guards and Marcy. "Hey, I'll see what this is about. You all go on ahead without me."

Marcy frowned a little. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, it's probably something small."

Marcy looked uncertain, but Polly twisted impatiently in her arms. "Marcy! Come on!" The pollywog tugged at Marcy's sleeve.

Marcy looked up to Sasha's confident smile and seemed reassured. "Alright, see you in a little while," Marcy said. She turned to head into the arcade.

"See you in a little bit," Sasha said before she remembered something and grabbed her by the collar to whisper. "... don't eat anything with meat here. Trust me."

Marcy nodded slowly, then headed in to join her little froggy friends inside.

Once Marcy was out of earshot, Sasha turned back to the guards. "Hello. I believe someone has been following me and my friend all day, and I’m worried they’re connected to the cult that collapsed the catacombs," Sasha informed them quickly. "You two, stay here and make sure no one comes in ‘til I get back." She turned to the two leaner newts of the group. "You two, with me. Hopefully this is just a misunderstanding..."

"Uh... Captain?" Sasha glanced over at Barni, who looked concerned. As he spoke, Sasha removed a bag from her belt and started to count out coins. "I'm sorry, but I can't shut down for the night just because-" Sasha dropped a stack of nine golden farthings into his hand and the man stared at them, shocked. After a moment or two Barni turned to the people waiting in line. "I'm sorry everyone, private event! We are closed for the night!"

Sasha left the owner to deal with the agitated crowd, nodded to her two allies, and strode out into the middle of the square. She scanned through the bustling evening crowds. At the entrance to one of the alleyways, she caught sight of that same blue cloak that had hovered at the edge of her vision all day. Their back was to her, and the hood was drawn up. "Careful, they might have friends," she told the two guards. Sasha started towards the alleyway, resting her hand on the pommel of her sword, trying to come off as confident but not threatening. As they got close, Sasha called out. "Hey! You with the hood! I have a few questions for you."

The figure startled briefly, then suddenly bolted down the alleyway.

"Hey! Stop!" Sasha dashed after them, followed quickly by her two guards. As she emerged from the alleyway, she spotted the figure fleeing down one of the larger streets. They flowed between amphibians, booths, barrels, and boxes with ridiculous agility. Sasha growled to herself; she should have just grabbed them right away. She sped up as she called out instructions to the guards. "Take to the roofs! Don’t lose sight of them!" she ordered over her shoulder. The two newts broke off and clambered up the walls to continue their pursuit from the rooftops.

She had slowly started to gain on the figure when they abruptly darted down a side street. Sasha was moving too fast to make the turn smoothly, so she stuck a hand out to grasp a nearby lamppost and pivoted her momentum into the turn. The metal bent in her grip with a faint creaking sound as she redirected herself around the corner. However, the figure had somehow extended their lead as soon as they were out of sight - they were already at the next intersection.

Sasha pushed herself to move even faster, but no matter how swiftly she ran she was never quite able to close the distance. Every time she lost sight of the figure even for a moment, they would jump ahead of where they should be.

One of the guards called down from a nearby roof. “Uh… Captain?” He sounded hesitant, and as soon as she turned the corner she saw why. At the end of the next intersection, the figure had split into two, and seemed to be waiting for her. As soon as they saw her, they dashed in opposite directions.

Sasha deliberated for a moment as she fought to catch her breath. “You two follow to the right! I’ll take the one on the left. Capture them!” she demanded. The newts snapped a pair of quick salutes in her direction before following her orders.

She poured power into her stride as she took off again. The sound of concrete cracking under her boots echoed through the evening air as she ran after them. Street by street, alley by alley, it was the same story. The figure would smoothly avoid every obstacle in their way, slipping between the sparse passersby without even stumbling as Sasha shoved aside anyone who was too slow to get out of her way.

Sasha felt herself start to tire. The longer this went on, the more it felt like a trick. She was being lured. She slowed as the figure ducked into another alleyway, debating whether she should just return to the arcade. Just as she had made up her mind to give up for now, the figure finally turned to face her head-on. Sasha blinked as she spotted a familiar face, then narrowed her eyes and redoubled her efforts.

As Sasha raced into the alleyway, the figure flowed unnaturally up the wall. Sasha didn't hesitate; she leapt halfway up the three story building, then grabbed a length of corral and kicked off of it to propel herself the rest of the way to the roof. The material cracked under the impact, clattering to the ground below. Sasha pulled herself over the lip of the building and caught sight of her quarry racing across the rooftops. Sasha blew out a quick breath, then resumed the chase. Now that they couldn’t disappear around corners Sasha gained steadily. The figure finally slid to a stop on a ledge overlooking a lower tier of the city. They stood on the rooftop of a wide, circular building. There was nowhere left to run.

The figure gazed out over the lights of the city below. To Sasha’s annoyance, they didn’t even seem winded after a sprint through the heart of the city.

Sasha took a moment to catch her breath, getting a much better look at the dark blue cloak in the light of the setting sun.

"So, Anne, are you ready to talk? Or are you just going to run away again?”

Anne lowered her hood as she turned to face Sasha. Her eyes shone with a bright resolve as she met Sasha’s gaze.

The arcade was just as fascinating as Marcy had hoped. It was packed wall-to-wall with amphibians having a good time. Most of it had been about what she expected with Amphibia’s tech level. She had seen skeeball, pool, and foosball, as well as plenty of blatantly rigged carnival game booths that reminded her of the ones that had popped up at the Frog of the Year celebration back home.

What really piqued her curiosity, though, was the less busy area towards the back, where she found a maze of arcade cabinets. They looked just like the ones back on Earth, their sides plastered with colorful illustrations that inspired the imagination. Pinball machines rattled noisily and rang with every point scored.

Tragically, only a few of them were actually illuminated. Marcy estimated that perhaps one in seven still functioned, though the ones that did were packed with kids, all clamoring to get a turn at one of the games.

Marcy tapped her chin thoughtfully. "What's broken? This all looks hooked up fine," she assessed.

Maddie hummed in agreement. "All the rune work looks alright..."

They laid on their backs looking up at the innards of one of the broken arcade cabinets. Polly was balanced on Marcy's chest. They had pried it open to see if they could fix it. It looked like some kind of snail driving simulator called 'Sane Transport' that had immediately caught their attention.

Polly groaned. "Ugh, this is Frobo all over again."

Marcy sighed; Polly was right. Despite everything they had managed to find for their repairs, their efforts to fix Frobo had been stymied. Unlike Frobo, though, the arcade machine’s parts were fine. It should turn on, the only problem was there was no clear 'on button' to press. She was already mentally composing a way to break it to Polly that some projects didn't work out.

"Uh, girls?" Sprig banged the side of the cabinet to get their attention.

"One second." Maddie reached up and tapped on one of the circuits. “This line here, is it wrong?" Maddie inquired.

Marcy shook her head. "You're thinking of ritual runecraft again. All of these are just a way to link the constituent parts together to share power."

"Guys, seriously-" Ivy warned.

Polly hummed in thought. "Maybe if I hit it hard enough..."

Marcy used a finger to gently push Polly's flipper down before it could grab onto the screwdriver in her bow. "That will almost certainly do more harm than good," Marcy warned. She should have never explained percussive maintenance to her sister.

"What are you doing?" A new voice. Marcy scooched out from underneath the cabinet, leaving Maddie to mutter unintelligibly at it as she continued to run her fingers along the circuits. Looming over her was a newt with straight black hair that curtained off half of their face. They leaned on a mop as they looked down at Marcy skeptically. "Well?"

Marcy pursed her lips for a moment. "I'm... here to repair the games?"

The newt tilted their head skeptically. "... really, the boss hired you?"

"Yeah," Marcy lied a little more confidently.

The newt's visible eye flicked between Marcy's friends. "You brought three kids and a pollywog to a repair job?"

"I'm doubling as a babysitter?" Marcy offered.

"A babysitter," The newt repeated dryly.

"Gotta hustle to make it in Newtopia." Marcy shrugged and gave them an awkward smile.

The newt stared at her for a few moments before they sighed and nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I hear that. Well, good luck. We've had plenty of people come in to try and fix these old things up.” The newt looked across the row of mostly blank screens.

"Couldn't you ask whoever built them?" Ivy asked. She reached up to press the 'start' button to no effect.

The newt shrugged. "No one knows who did it. These things have been around since forever. My grandma took me here when I was little and they'd been around since she was a kid. Gonna miss ‘em, boss says he's gonna scrap all the broken ones soon."

Marcy frowned at that. These games represented an artform a thousand years dormant. It would be incredible to have these relics to guide a new generation of programmers once the box was back in place. "Do you think it would be possible for me to see inside one of the ones that do work? Maybe I can figure out what went wrong?"

"Sure, whatever." The newt pulled a ring of keys from their belt and started towards one of the cabinets that was still working.

It took a minute to clear a group of kids off of Barrel Thrower, where a pixelated toad hurled barrels down scaffolding at the player. The teenage worker opened up the back of the machine. Marcy crouched to take a look, and the World Hoppers crowded around next to her to get a peek. It was a totally different sight. All the rune work that covered different components shone with a faded white light.

"Oh hey, this is what Frobo's new body looked like inside when he was working..." Polly mused.

"Hm..." Marcy scanned the innards for clues, and while the components were all similar to the one they had looked inside before, one thing was off.

All of the machines she’d looked at had had a cylindrical piece covered with runic carvings; she’d theorized that they were batteries of some sort. This one was much the same, but unlike the broken ones she’d already looked at, some of the runes on this one still flickered brightly with white light. "I… might have an idea."

Marcy had been wondering what had caused the factory and the basem*nt under Newtopia University to light up the way they had. Generations of academics had looked into the basem*nt before, and she'd examined the studies that had been done on the factory during her deep dive into the history of the music box. Nothing had turned on in those reports.

Marcy herself was the obvious 'x factor', and with her abilities having come from the box, it made sense. The same power that once fueled Amphibia’s technology was now within her. What she couldn’t figure out was why her presence alone was enough to restart the factory, but wasn't able to awaken Frobo or recharge these arcade cabinets...

"So how do you turn these on, anyways?" Marcy asked, looking up at the teen.

"On? They're never off." The newt shrugged.

So they were battery operated. Made to last a long stretch of time without access to the box. Only, the games in the arcade were finally hitting the end of their battery life. The factory and basem*nt had switches to turn things on, to tap into the power within Marcy. These machines lacked those...

Marcy held a finger up to the 'battery' and took a slow breath. She tapped into the well of energy within her and began to feed power into the battery like she did with plants and her druidic magic. In a flash, the runes that ran around the battery lit up in a vibrant shade of green.

"Hey, what'd you do?" Sprig asked, hanging off of Marcy's shoulder.

Marcy grinned. "I think I might have found a way to fix all of these..."

Sasha stood opposite Anne, who stared her down wordlessly. A cool night breeze nipped at Sasha's face and she suppressed a shiver as she waited for Anne to start talking. Sasha didn’t mind; it gave her time to wrap her head around what was happening.

Anne was here, which was great. It saved them the trouble of having to find her again. What worried Sasha was how skittish she was acting. Why had she hid from them? Why did she flee when Sasha finally came to talk to her?

Anne seemed to take a breath to steady herself before she broke the long silence. "Hey Sasha... How are you doing?"

Well, that’s one way to start off. "Had a pretty good day in a pretty wild year. Good to see you." Sasha shrugged. "So, why’re we out here?" She spread out her arms to the wide rooftop around them.

"I wanted to talk to you alone," Anne responded.

Sasha just nodded and waited for Anne to elaborate.

"I know this might come as a shock," Anne cautioned, "but Andrias is evil. We need to grab Marcy and get out of here."

... Huh. Well, on the list of things she'd hoped Anne would say, that was pretty much at the very bottom. "Okay... why do you think that?"

Anne blinked, seemingly confused by Sasha's nonchalance. "...You don't seem surprised."

Sasha looked at Anne's shining blue eyes and knew she'd have to pick her words carefully. "Well, I would love to know how you came to that conclusion. Before we get ahead of ourselves."

Anne frowned but nodded. "Okay. So, a friend of mine took me to some friends of hers, and I found out that I think... someone or something wanted us here."

"Yeah, Marcy," Sasha replied blithely.

Anne seemed taken aback by that. "...You found out about that?"

"Yeah... Marcy filled me in." Sasha sighed. It wasn't like it was a secret to any of them at this point, there was no reason to tiptoe around it. Anne frowned faintly, apparently lost in thought, until Sasha prompted her. "So, you were saying?"

"Yeah..." Anne seemed to shake off whatever train of thought she was on and focused back on Sasha again. "It seems like we were destined to come here, and I'm pretty sure we're supposed to fight Andrias."

"Based on what?" Sasha pressed.

"... Three stars burning bright come from beyond to expel the night. Should they fight -"

"-or embrace the fall?" Sasha finished to Anne's surprise. "Their choice will decide the fate of all."

"You've heard it before?" Anne asked, sounding pleasantly surprised.

"Yeah..." Sasha pursed her lips. Looks like her first guess had been right. First, Marcy drags us all here, and now this. Am I the only one with my head on straight? Sasha took a steadying breath. There was no way to do this gently. "Anne, you joined a cult."

Anne recoiled. "Wh-What? What are you talking about?"

"Marcy and I had a run in with some cultists who believed that same nonsense," Sasha explained. "They nearly killed both of us."

Anne grimaced and shook her head. "Maybe it's a different group-"

"With the same belief?" Sasha asked dryly.

"Yes? But these are… they're trying to help us, Sash," Anne said resolutely.

" Or they're trying to get us all in one place to cut us down."

Anne sputtered for a moment. "That's not- I know- ugh," she managed to get out. She buried her face in her hands.

Sasha waited to give Anne time to come up with an actual rebuttal. When none came, Sasha stepped forward to close the distance between them. "It's okay, Anne. I'm sorry you had to find out like this." She slowly raised a hand towards Anne's shoulder. "Just... come and hang out with us, I still have a room saved for you up in the palace."

Anne quickly backed out of Sasha’s reach. "No, I just told you we can't trust the king!"

"According to some cultists. Yes.” Sasha stepped back to avoid spooking her further. "Do you really think it's a coincidence that they want you to lure Marcy and I away from a literal castle and city full of guards?" Sasha may not like Andrias, but with the number of enemies they'd made she was glad to have someplace relatively safe and comfortable.

"It’s not like that! We have a destiny to fulfill, Mother Olm said-"

Sasha held up a hand to stop her. “I’m sorry, ‘Mother Olm’?”

Anne paused. "Well, they're a kind of amphibian, I think? They look kind of like giant worms-"

“No, that's not what I- Anne, the fact that this weird person you met off in the middle of nowhere is running around calling herself Mother Olm doesn't raise any red flags for you?" Sasha pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. "I don't know what junk they've been telling you about our ‘destiny’ or whatever, but you can't trust-"

“Or what? You’ll break another one of my ribs?”

Sasha’s mouth snapped shut as she flinched at the words. She looked up at Anne and saw bitter resentment burning in her eyes. Her fists clenched at her sides, and years of repressed anger poured out from between her lips.

"Doesn't matter what anyone else thinks, right?" Anne stomped forward and Sasha stumbled back as the glow in Anne's eyes flared up. "Always has to be your way." Anne stuck a finger in Sasha's face. "Queen’s gotta stomp out any dissent, right!?" Anne gripped the gem that hung around her neck, the one that Sasha had cracked back in their fight on the mountain. "Can't stand the idea that someone else might know better! Might know more than you!"

Every word pricked at Sasha's skin like hail in a storm. Hearing this much venom from Anne of all people was a lot to stomach. It was made worse because Sasha knew she deserved every word. Anne breathed hard, daring Sasha to deny it. The moment hung in the air, an unnatural stillness like passing through the eye of the storm.

Sasha broke eye contact as Anne's scorn became suffocating. "Yeah, that's going to have to come first, huh?" Sasha muttered. She rolled her neck and took a deep breath. She'd known this was coming eventually. That was why she had practiced. Once she’d recentered herself, she looked back at Anne, who was still scowling at her. Sasha poured as much sincerity as she could into her next words. "Anne, I'm sorry."

Anne’s furious expression let up for a moment, but it quickly slammed back into place. "For breaking my rib? I'd hope so."

"No, not that!" Sasha started, and then realized how it sounded as Anne's face twisted into incredulity. "I mean, yes, also that, obviously. But more than that, I... I haven't been a great friend to you, Anne," Sasha admitted. She tapped her knuckles awkwardly against her thigh. "I pushed you to do a bunch of junk I shouldn't have. I was repressing a lot of crap that had nothing to do with you, and I ended up hurting you and Marcy both because of it. You didn't deserve that, and I get why you're angry." Sasha rubbed at her eyes. "Frog knows I know anger," she muttered. She dropped her hand and looked at Anne soberly. "So for all that, I'm sorry."

Anne’s anger ebbed away as Sasha spoke. She slowly relaxed from the tense fighting stance she had begun to drop into as her eyes carefully searched Sasha’s face. Sasha could tell she was wavering, and she would have to pick her next words carefully.

"But Anne…" Sasha gestured at the world around them. "This isn't like deciding what we get for lunch, or where we go on the weekend. If you want us to drop everything and fight for some cryptic cause that's none of our business, then you're gonna need to give me something better than ‘some sketchy folks said we should.’" Anne frowned at the words in frustration. Sasha took a deep breath. "Okay, let's try this from a different direction. Say I did believe this prophecy or whatever is real. What evidence is there that Andrias is the one we have to fight?"

Anne still looked hesitant, but she seemed willing to move on. "So the prophecy says we need to expel the night..."

"Sure." Sasha shrugged. "Which equals Andrias because…?"

"I mean- who else could it be?"

Sasha shrugged. "Lots of things. This continent is filled with all sorts of monstrous horrors. I’ve killed a few of them. Do you have evidence that Andrias is this dark, prophecy-worthy evil, or are you just taking it at the word of this cul- these friends of yours?" Sasha waited for a few moments. With no response forthcoming, Sasha sighed. She would have enjoyed a bit of leverage on the old newt. “Anything?”

Anne threw her hands up. “I don’t know! It’s been a thousand years! He’s not gonna wear a big flashing sign that says ‘Look at me, I’m evil!’” Anne frowned, looking at the ground in thought. Eventually she looked up at Sasha, eyes bright and blue. "...Do you really trust Andrias that much?"

"That's really not what this is about-"

Anne’s eyes narrowed. "Do you or don't you?"

"Ye-" Sasha paused as she took in the vibrant blue light shining from Anne’s eyes. "No, not really. But I am sure he can help get us home."

Anne nervously bit her lip. "You really think so?"

"Yeah." Sasha glanced down at her glove covered hand and clenched her fingers into a fist. "I've made sure of it." She crossed her arms, letting Anne soak in that information. Anne looked troubled and deep in thought, and Sasha braced herself for the next argument she would have to work through.

"But... if Marcy's going to stay here, shouldn't we make sure it's safe for her?"

Sasha blinked at that, genuinely caught off guard. "Anne, what the hell are you talking about?"

"...Marcy said she wanted to stay here with the Plantars."

"When?" Sasha asked, with far more intensity.

"Back on the night you came to the valley," Anne said vaguely.

Sasha slumped her shoulders. "Oh. Yeah, that makes sense." She ran her fingers through her hair.

Anne's eyebrows knitted. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean, yeah, she said she wanted to stay on the same night that she thought she torched our friendship? Yeah, that tracks."

Anne pouted at Sasha's tone and shook her head. "She really cares about the Plantars..."

"I know," Sasha assured. "It's going to be really sad when we have to leave. Frog knows I'm gonna miss Yunan, but we have to leave, Anne."

Anne looked a little unsure at that. “But…” She paused and seemed to debate something with herself. "Her parents-"

"-Are garbage," Sasha jumped in. Anne’s eyes widened in surprise. "Our options aren't 'let her move with her sh*tty parents' or 'let her die here in a bog.’ My mom’s a social worker, we'll find her a better home, ideally with one of us." Sasha had hoped that Anne would help convince the Boonchuys to take in Marcy, they certainly had the space, but Sasha wasn't above begging her Mom if it came down to it. She'd probably have to promise to never get in trouble again, but it was still better than the alternative.

"She thinks of the Plantars as family."

Sasha felt her hackles start to raise. "Yeah, she feels the same about us," she countered. "She didn't want to lose us either-" she gestured around at the massive mushroom skyscrapers that loomed over this district of the city. "-in case you forgot."

"But if it's her choice..."

"Then we need to convince her otherwise," Sasha said, her patience wearing thin. "Anne, this world is a deathtrap." How are we not on the same page about this?

"But if she wants-"

"Her family didn't know what a hospital was, Anne." Sasha pushed past Anne's objection. "What happens when she gets too sick to treat herself and the second best doctor in the valley, her ten year old frog friend, doesn't know how to treat a human? Just shrug our shoulders and say 'what a shame’?'" Sasha pressed, incredulous that she had to explain this. She ground her teeth as she felt something inside her close in on its breaking point.

Anne hummed uncertainly, but didn’t back down. "But..."

"You know what, Boonchuy?" Sasha’s voice dripped with fury. "If you don't give a sh*t about her, you can just say it.”

Anne took the words like a physical blow and she stepped back to gape at Sasha. After a moment, her gaze hardened into disappointment. "You haven't changed at all," she muttered. She turned and started to stalk away from Sasha.

Sasha felt the anger drain out of her and internally cursed her own temper. The last thing she needed was for her own stubbornness to cause Anne to run off into the wilderness again. "Anne, wait." She walked after her, but Anne didn't even look back. "Anne, come on, I'm sorry, I just-" Sasha reached out to grab Anne's arm, but as her fingers closed around Anne’s wrist, there was a faint shimmer and the arm fell away like strands of loose fabric before disintegrating into a cloud of sparkling dust. Sasha recoiled in confusion.

Anne glanced down at her missing arm, then stared defiantly at Sasha. "Can't always have your way, Sash." The rest of her body disintegrated into dust.

Sasha gaped openmouthed at the spot Anne had just occupied and tried to wrap her mind around what had just happened. Suddenly alone, she looked around, trying to figure out where in the city Anne had led her, but she couldn’t place it. Sasha leaned her head back as the tension of the conversation slowly came undone. "Ugggghhhhh."

Anne returned to her body in a damp alleyway with a foreign snarl in her throat. A chubby newt kid with a propeller beanie was suspended by his shirt, which her hand held in a tight grip.

"I- I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please, don't hurt me!" Tears ran down the kid's face as he flailed in her grasp.

“We’ll leave you alone- promise!” another newt, hazy in the corner of Anne’s view.

“I told you guys this was a bad idea,” said a third.

Anne quickly set the newt down and shook her head to clear it as she re-acclimated to her surroundings. She tried to call out an apology as he and his friends bolted away, but they were gone before she could finish orienting herself. It was always unnerving to return to her body and find that it had done something without her permission. What had even happened while she was gone? She frowned uneasily in the direction they had run off.

Her dress was wet and a little sticky. She glanced down and gave it a sniff; it gave off an aroma of something sweet. There was an abandoned cup on the ground nearby. Had those brats dumped soda on her? She had found an abandoned back alley to stay out of the way, they would have had to have gone out of their way to find and mess with her.

Anne's face scrunched up in distaste as she did a quick spell gesture and placed her hands on her chest. Slowly, methodically, she pulled every drop of water, sugar and whatever else was in that drink out of her dress and skin until a blob of indistinct green liquid was floating in front of her before she flicked it into a nearby puddle.

Anne stepped forward to continue her plan, but staggered, catching herself with an open palm on the stone wall she had been resting against. She had used a lot of magic juggling three of her powers at once with Sasha. As she looked to the ground she caught sight of her reflection in a puddle and frowned. She self-consciously pulled her hood down to cover as much of her face as possible. Once she felt recovered enough to get moving again, she walked out towards the alleyway, grateful the kid had run the opposite direction of the arcade. She hovered at the exit to the plaza. The two guards Sasha had placed were still stationed by the door, chatting amicably with the bouncer.

Anne wished things had gone better with Sasha, but she was glad her plan to lead her away had worked out. It should buy her enough time to talk to Marcy. Of course, if Marcy had the same experience with the cult that Sasha had, she'd be better off keeping the prophecy stuff under wraps for now. It was going to be tough to convince her, but...

If it doesn't, well, I guess you won't have to worry about getting these letters anymore.

Anne felt her stomach sink and she reached up to clutch her glowstone necklace. She had to see Marcy. She’d seen her, she knew she was fine, but she had to…

Anne took a few breaths, making sure she had the juice to make this work before tracing another spell gesture. Fortunately, illusions were easier than moving stuff. She strode out of the alleyway, putting on her best 'murder face' as Sasha used to call it as she walked up to the door.

The two guards snapped to attention as Anne approached. "Captain! You catch them?"

"Ye-" Anne coughed, realizing she'd have to sound like Sasha, "Yeah. Thanks for your assistance, you can continue with your... patrol?"

The two guards nodded and moved away; the bouncer bid them farewell before opening the door for Anne. Anne strolled into a massive room. Half of the room, filled with pool and foosball tables, was abandoned, while the other half was alight with activity and crowded with people. Bright lights poured up from honest-to-god arcade cabinets.

Anne could guess which side of the room Marcy would be on and started to make her way over there. She looked down a corridor of arcade cabinets. It was packed with newts of all ages enthralled and enchanted by the games. Anne kept an eye out for a Super Dance Fusion machine, but didn't spy one. Probably for the best. She searched around for Marcy, expecting her to stick out like a sore thumb, but she couldn’t spot her anywhere.

"Polly, I think you get bonus points for driving well."

"I don't want bonus points, I want to hit pedestrians!"

Anne turned at the familiar voices and saw the World Hoppers all crowded around a plastic snail. Polly was on top jerking a pair of reins wildly back and forth. A bright screen in front of them had a pulled back view of a polygonal snail snapping left and right along Newtopian sidewalks as the digital suggestion of newts tried to dive out of the way of the oncoming snail. Ivy sat behind Polly, holding onto her so the tilting snail wouldn't dump her on the floor. Maddie and Sprig stood on either side of the artificial snail, staring at the screen.

Maddie pointed at the screen. "Missed one."

"I'll get them on the way back," Polly snapped.

Anne took a moment to enjoy the banter. She wasn't sure why Maddie and Ivy were all the way out here, but it was kind of nice to see them all again. She considered dropping the illusion to talk to them all, but that would probably require more explanation then she had time for.

Sprig looked up at Anne and smiled. "Oh, hey Sasha!" The other three gave quick acknowledgements before returning to focus on the game.

"Hey dudes, Marcy in the bathroom or something?" Anne said.

Sprig shook his head. "No, Marcy helped fix all these games, but then she ended up getting sucked into a single player game. She got that kind of obsessed look in her eye and encouraged all of us to go try other games." Sprig knelt down and held up a large canvas sack of jingling metal. "The owner gave us a ton of tokens cause Marcy fixed everything!"

Anne smiled. Yeah, that sounds like Mar-Mar. "Which way is that?"

"Oh, it was in that back corner over there." Sprig pointed towards a corner of the arcade.

"Alright, thanks Little Man," Anne said, catching herself a moment too late. Sprig looked at her a bit oddly, but Anne just turned and started to wade through the crowd before he could ask any questions. She glanced over her shoulder to see that Sprig had shrugged it off and looked back to the game.

Anne let out a little sigh of relief and started to wade through the winding alleys of bright, old-school games. She finally found a less crowded corner. This corner had games that were mostly off, with only one bright screen illuminating a familiar face.

Anne slowed to a stop upon seeing Marcy, gratefully drinking in the sight. She was slightly hunched over controls that were clearly built for someone shorter. Her hand was curled in that weird underhand grip on a bright red joystick while the other tapped on a pair of buttons. Her face was a mask of focus, confident smirk firmly in place with her tongue stuck out just slightly. Anne smiled fondly at her. Cute.

Anne stepped into the cramped corridor, dropping her first illusion and throwing up another one behind her. A simple one that would hopefully ward off any curious eyes. Marcy didn't notice as Anne came to stand over her shoulder. The game she was playing looked a lot like Tetra, four-block shapes dropping down, rapidly rotating and slotting into neat rows. The speed was already substantial, but Marcy was handling it no problem, her body bouncing to the upbeat chiptune.

"Doing well?" Anne asked quietly, even though she could see the high score going up in turn with the player score.

Marcy nodded. "Yeah, the previous high score was total amateur hour, I-" she paused mid-explanation and turned to look at Anne. Her mouth hung open a moment. An 'L' piece slotted incorrectly in the middle of the board.

"Hey, Marcy..." Anne said quietly.

"Anne!" Marcy let go of the controls and Anne braced herself for a hug that... didn't come. Marcy turned to face her but held one arm across her chest. Her eyes sparkled as she ran them over Anne. "Thank frog you’re alright." Two more pieces awkwardly slotted atop the first, stacking towards the top.

Anne nodded and basked in the moment a second longer, then started forward to pull Marcy into a hug. But something felt... off. Marcy's excitement shifted to nervousness, and she took half a step back as her eyes glanced around at the arcade. Anne checked over her shoulder. Had Sasha already found them? When she looked back, Marcy's breathing had hitched. She held her hands up placatingly. Her hands shook as her eyes continued to dart between Anne and the rest of the room. "I- I swear I'm not wasting time," she said, voice trembling.

Anne felt a sinking feeling in her chest as a line piece dropped down and hit the top of the board and a big red 'Game Over' flashed on the screen.

Marcy's voice tumbled out of her like loose dice. "I- I know what it looks like, but I promise I've been looking-" Anne was here. Marcy tried to read more into her expression, but Anne's hood was drawn too far down, the lighting too dim.

"Mar-Mar?" Anne frowned.

Her eyes are glowing. Does she not believe me? Then again, why would she?

"I know I said that I would write again-" Marcy followed up quickly, "-but Sprig used the last of the golem potion - for an emergency - but I wasn't able to make more, and, and-"

"Marce..."

"Right, right, not important." Marcy slapped her own forehead. Focus, Marcy! "There are temples. We can recha- recha- har- haa haa…" Marcy tried to keep explaining, but she couldn’t find the breath to do so. Anne was coming towards her with her hand raised. Marcy instinctively took a step back. She was screwing this up, she was screwing this up, she was-

"Marcy! Breathe!" Anne instructed as her hand landed gently on Marcy’s shoulder. She held up her other hand and lifted each finger in time as she counted. "In, two, three, four, five…” Marcy managed a shuddering gasp as she watched Anne’s fingers. “Out, two, three, four, five," Anne hummed, quieting her words as Marcy exhaled.

They repeated the process twice more before Marcy felt herself start to get a hold of herself again. Once Marcy felt like she had caught her breath, she spoke again. "The temples…" Breathe. "...will let us…" Breathe. "...recharge the box, and get you and Sash home," Marcy finally got out, letting out one last breath at the end and feeling embarrassed. Just moments after reuniting, and she was already being a bother.

"That... that's great, Marcy," Anne said. An uncomfortable silence filled the space between them.

Marcy stepped back slightly, causing Anne's hand to drop from her shoulder. "This is actually great timing." Marcy rallied, pushing down the hurt and forcing a small smile. "We were just about to go out searching for you. But now that you're here, we can just head to the first temple. King Andrias is outfitting us with whatever we need... guess we'll need to ask for supplies for three now." It was pretty tight; they were all set to leave in three days time. Anne was quiet for a moment, looking down and away. Marcy tried to guess what she could be hesitant over. "Sasha got us all separate rooms in the castle, if… if that's what you’re worried about…"

"Marcy, what do you think of Andrias?" Anne asked, turning her head to face her again.

Marcy paused, the question throwing her for a loop. "He's been pretty great to us. He pardoned Hop Pop, allowed all of us to stay in the palace, and treated us like honored guests. He even taught me this new strategy game called Flipwart, which is like chess, but-" Marcy bit her tongue, catching herself. "...anyways, it's really fun. Why do you ask?"

"Marcy, I don't think we can trust him," Anne said, offering a hand out. "I didn't come here to join you and Sasha, I came here to get you and Sasha away from here. Though Sasha was being difficult," she finished in a low angry tone.

Marcy frowned, "What? Why?"

"Because it's not safe, Marcy."

"No- I mean why do you not trust him?" Marcy frowned. When would Anne have even had the chance to meet him?

"I made some friends who told me about the wars before the kingdom lost the box. Have you noticed all the weapons and factories and junk?"

"Yeah, Andrias told me about those, they were to defend Amphibia from inter-dimensional invaders."

"No. Marcy, the kingdom was the one doing the invading."

Marcy frowned at that information. It certainly wasn't out of the realm of possibility. "What did you find that proved this?"

Anne seemed to smile, earnest in her speech. "I met the olms in their secret city underground! They told me everything!"

"The olms?" Marcy said doubtfully. The olms had been mentioned in the same book that held information on the three temples. Long ago before the creation of the box, the olms had taken the gems by force from the newts, toads, and frogs who once held onto them, fearing what they might be used for. They secreted them away in an underground city for just themselves. It had been the first king, Alduin, who had recovered the gems and ensured they would be used for the good of everyone. Were they really being honest with Anne? "They're still around?"

"Yeah! Their city is really cool, I think you'd love it." Anne shot a cautious look around before she leaned in and whispered. "They told me about the temples too. We'll use our powers to overthrow Andrias first, then we'll use the temples to power the box."

Marcy felt her blood run cold. "We’ll use our powers to what?" Marcy said, quiet now too. "Anne, we can't overthrow him." She had just gotten Hop Pop cleared of his charges.

Anne frowned. "What? But... Marcy, the olms..."

"Anne, I think they've misled you." Marcy shook her head. "It sounds like the olms stand to gain a lot from this plot of theirs..."

"But they said Andrias is evil, we have to-"

"Anne, no one else thinks ill of Andrias. Everyone I've spoken to about him has said he is a wise and just ruler." Well, minus Olivia. "I really don't think he has bad intentions. He pardoned Hop Pop-"

"After he sent Sasha to kill him!" Anne hissed. "I mean, think about it. Between that, Toad Tower, and all the stuff you had to fix, do you really think he's a good leader?"

"No."

Anne came up short at that; she looked like she was trying to solve a difficult math problem during one of their study sessions.

"You're right, Anne." Marcy nodded. "There's a violently enforced racial caste system. The bureaucracy is so corrupt it’s run like the literal mafia. There’s no justice system at all. There are a lot of problems here, but I don't think Andrias is evil. Just… insulated and, well, incompetent," she said sheepishly. She never liked speaking ill of a friend. Especially one who might take her words for treason. "I mean, it's a monarchy, it’s not like he earned the position."

"Then- then shouldn't we still remove him from power? To fix those things?"

"We already are!" Marcy insisted, desperate to convince her. "I pitched him a whole new system to implement, and we're testing it out in the valley. If it goes well-"

"What if he's just playing you, Marcy? Shouldn't we be sure?"

"Anne, even if he was evil - and I'm still not convinced he is - this isn't a fantasy world! You can't just kill whoever's in charge and expect things to work out fine." Anne flinched at the word kill and Marcy frowned in sympathy.

Anne rubbed at her eyes. "How would you do it, then?"

"I wouldn't." Marcy felt her stomach churn. "Raising a rebellion successfully–which would be difficult considering how beloved Andrias is–- would almost certainly mean a bloody civil war. Any attempted coup would create a power vacuum and plunge the continent into a succession crisis at best and anarchy at worst."

"But we can't just do nothing. We have all this power to change things, change them for the better-"

"I don't need things to be better, Anne, I need them to be safe ." As she spoke, her throat felt scraped raw. "I- Yes, Anne, we have power, but that doesn't mean we should use it. When we do..." Her eyebrow itched as she thought back to Toad Tower. She shook her head. "People get hurt. People die. I've seen what happens when we throw our weight around, and I've had my fill... I'm sorry."

Marcy felt the disappointment coming off of Anne in waves as she braced herself against the arcade cabinet with one arm and closed her eyes. For the first time since Anne had arrived, the light from the machine illuminated her face.

Marcy reached up a hand, hesitated, and then gently pulled back Anne's hood. Anne looked up, but didn't stop her, and instead ducked her head to let the hood be drawn back. Marcy’s heart ached at the sight, her hand unconsciously coming up to cup the side of Anne’s face as her thumb ran over the deep bags beneath Anne's eyes.

Art by cutetanuki-chan [ Twitter | Tumblr ]

"Anne..." Marcy hummed in worry. Over the years, Marcy had seen Anne stressed, emotional, angry, frustrated, weepy, but she had never seen her look so weary. Another layer of guilt came to rest over her shoulders.

"I... haven't been sleeping great lately..." Anne reached up to pull Marcy's hand away.

Marcy pulled back before Anne had to and started searching through her coat pockets. "I- I saw a sleeping potion recipe a while back. I think I need..." she tapped at the little pouches stored in her coat, "...ground ginger... mint twice shredded... I don't have the pistil of a vanilla flower on hand, but I know there's some in the palace garden," Marcy said, already running through the process of how to make the potion in her head. "I'd need to borrow some ivory to stir it with..." She looked over to Anne, who smiled gently at her. For the first time, Marcy noticed the cracked pendant she had given Anne still hung around her neck. A little bubble of hope coiled in her gut.

"That's okay, Marcy, but thank you... you really want to get us back home?" Anne asked quietly.

"Yes," Marcy assured.

Anne nodded and took a deep breath, then pushed back her cloak to reveal a little canvas bag. She reached inside and pulled out the music box, the ancient carvings still intact and the gems still faded. She took one of the gems between her fingers and tugged it out of its socket before secreting the box away again. As she held it up to the light of the screen, Marcy could see the green shades in the dull gem. Anne reached out to tilt Marcy's wrist and pressed the gem into her hand.

Marcy rolled the gem in her palm, running a thumb over its facets.

"You and Sasha should head out to the first temple. I'll meet you there."

Marcy looked up from the gem. Anne avoided Marcy’s eyes. "...You’re not staying?" She trailed after Anne as she started to move towards the end of a wall of cabinets.

"No, I have some things to look into," Anne responded with a sigh. She went to the place where the little alcove of games ended and looked down each way. She looked ready to bolt at any moment.

Marcy hooked a timid hand around the crook of Anne's arm. "Do you have to leave right away? Couldn't you stay just for the night? The beds at the palace are really comfortable..."

Anne looked back at Marcy; she looked so tired. "I don't think that's a great idea."

"Is this about Andrias? I think if you just talked to him, you'd see-"

"Marcy, I can't.” Frustration leached into Anne’s tone. "All of us being there at the same time could be dangerous."

Marcy was about to argue, but then she looked down at herself. For all her talk of change and being better, here she was, clinging onto Anne. Not wanting to let go, just like when this whole mess started. For a supposed genius, I sure can't take a hint, can I? The persuasive words on the tip of Marcy's tongue turned sour in her mouth and she swallowed them down. "...Okay. Be careful." She let go and stepped back.

"I will." Anne nodded and surveyed the arcade. She looked back at Marcy.

Marcy kept a smile plastered on her face and held one arm with the other. She could at least see her off with a smile.

After a moment Anne darted forward and wrapped Marcy in a bear hug. "Please stay safe, Mar-Mar..." she mumbled into her shoulder. Her grip tightened a bit, knuckles of balled up fists pressing into Marcy's back.

Marcy hesitated for a beat as tears bubbled up in her eyes. The weak restraints Marcy had held herself to snapped and she collapsed forward into Anne’s arms. Her heart ached, knowing that Anne would leave again once it was over, but for that moment it was alright. In that familiar embrace, Marcy felt like maybe things would work out. Anne didn't hate her.

Anne gave her one last squeeze before she pulled back, but left her hands on Marcy's shoulders. "I'll see you soon, alright?"

Marcy smiled genuinely and nodded, not trusting her voice. She braced herself for Anne to turn away, but then a moment passed, followed by another. Anne lingered there, her thumb massaging Marcy's shoulder. Marcy tilted her head in question, unsure what was happening.

Polly’s voice abruptly sounded from nearby. "Marcy! Marcy, look at all the tickets we won!"

"Apparently they work like copper in this building!" Sprig’s voice added.

"Marcy!" Sasha called out across the din. "You back here?"

Anne's face pinched in annoyance, but she gave Marcy one last smile before pulling away. She shot Marcy a little two finger salute before tracing her illusion gesture in the air. Starlight wove over Anne's body, cloaking her from sight. The light shifted for a moment before she was invisible. Marcy couldn't see her leave, but she felt her absence, off to do... whatever she had to do.

Marcy stood alone, looking down and fiddling with the dulled calamity gem. After a moment, she opened her jacket, found an empty pocket, and slipped it inside before buttoning it shut.

Sasha rounded the corner, Marcy’s siblings balanced on opposite shoulders. Polly held a loose tumbleweed of tickets held over her head, which trailed behind them.

Sprig gripped a length of tickets to hold up. "Marcy, look! Apparently you can spend these at the prize wall and- and-" He stopped suddenly and frowned upon catching sight of her.

Polly looked up from counting her tickets. "What's up? Did you lose?"

Marcy glanced at Sasha, whose brow furrowed in concern. Marcy sighed to let out the tension and focused on what she could control. "Technically! Got the high score, though. Just annoyed I made a stupid mistake, could have gotten better." She started forward. "Where’re Ivy and Maddie?"

"Back at the game we won all these from," Sprig answered slowly. "We wanted to find you to see if you had any insight into how to win more."

Sasha gave Marcy a searching look and then nodded before chiming in. "We could bust open the machine. Remember that?"

"Yes!" Polly said, immediately onboard even before Marcy could answer.

"When we got banned from that arcade? Yeah, I remember," Marcy scoffed. "Anything good on the prize wall?" Marcy asked as she put the little alley of mostly dark games behind her.

Marcy tightened a little screw to affix the hard drive in place. "Alright, now I think we just need to make sure everything is plugged back into the battery column and we'll be ready-" Marcy felt her sister, who had been sitting in her lap, suddenly slouch to the side and she looked down.

After staying past closing time at the arcade, returning to the Plantar family suite for a slumber party, and consuming what Marcy estimated might have been her body weight in sugar, the little pollywog was finally crashing. Marcy had casually mentioned in between rounds of Sanrio Party that she thought she might be able to boot up Frobo's new body the same way she had powered up the arcade cabinets, and Polly had pestered Marcy to try and repair Frobo that night. They had gotten pretty far, but Polly had definitely hit the wall.

"Alright, I think that's enough for one night," Marcy said, setting aside her tools and scooping Polly up in one palm.

Polly groaned in protest. "No! No. I'm fine." Polly blindly reached for tools that were now several feet out of reach. "Le’s... finish this..."

"No robotics while half asleep," Marcy gently scolded, carrying her sister to the little nest of pillows and sheets Polly used as a bed. Marcy deposited her inside and used one of the sheets to tuck her in. "We'll finish working on Frobo tomorrow."

Polly waved her flippers in ineffective resistance for a moment before giving up and curling into the pillows.

Marcy turned to take in the room. It was a bit of a nightmare, which meant that the slumber party had been a success. Trays of snacks were scattered around the room, several of them having been tipped over and spilled onto the carpet. The familiar symphony of Vagabondia Chronicles’ 'Game Over' screen played quietly from the Shift on the other side of the room.

Hop Pop had been out when they’d come back. He’d left a note saying that he was seeking out an old friend’s sandwich shop, and that he'd see them all in the morning.

Sasha was lounging on one of the beds in her sleepwear listening to music. One of her earbuds had been taken by a particularly brave gulch soon after her arrival to Newtopia, but the other was still in working order. A polite knock sounded from the door and Sasha stretched out before getting up. "Who... I'll get it," she offered, pulling the earbud out.

Marcy snagged a tilted over red velvet cupcake and wandered around the bed to see an adorable sight. Sprig, Ivy, and Maddie, who had all been on the Shift, slumped against each other on the pillows they had been lying on, controllers held in loose grasps. Marcy's Shift sat atop the nightstand above them, still lamenting the fall of the three heroes who had passed out midway through a boss battle.

Marcy grinned and pulled the blanket from Sprig's bed to drape over them. She carefully extracted the controllers from their hands and put them away. Nintwodo might build their stuff to last, but there was no replacing these if they got stepped on in the night. Marcy went to recover the Shift, seeing its battery in the corner warning of an imminent shut down.

Not bad as far as sleepovers go. Sure, we never got around to the scare dare and we didn't make it all the way to dawn, but we did make it to a respectable- Marcy clicked the home screen and the time showed up- 11:05?!? How was it still that early!?

"Guys, guys wake up!" Marcy crouched down to start shaking Sprig's shoulder, but he just snuggled deeper into his pillow. "There's more to sleepovers than this." She tried Ivy next, who just pulled her newly acquired sheet over her head. "Seriously, there's more-" she tried to do the same with Maddie and narrowly avoided getting bit. She retreated to a safe distance.

"Psst. Marcy."

Marcy looked up to see Sasha holding up a little message card. She nodded out to the balcony door and started to move in that direction. Marcy gingerly stepped over her trio of frog friends and followed Sasha out to the balcony.

Marcy pushed open the door and found Sasha leaning against the balcony that overlooked the city. The night air was getting noticeably cooler than when she first arrived, but it was still a far cry from the cool, dry nights in California.

Marcy took a spot next to Sasha and gazed out over the city. They stood in comfortable silence for a few moments, which felt a little surreal considering the first time Marcy had looked out over the balcony. Marcy tried to play it cool, but her curiosity got the better of her. "Who was at the door, anyways?"

"It was for you, actually," Sasha said. She handed over the card between two fingers. "When did you get to know the royal blacksmith?"

Marcy took the note. It was short and to the point, saying the little project they had been working on was done. "Lady Olivia introduced me. It's part of my preparations for when we set out," she explained, excited at the prospect. "I'll show you when it's all ready," Marcy promised. She glanced back at the door. "So, do you have a plan or something?"

Sasha raised a brow. "For what?"

"You know, getting everyone up for the rest of the night. Scare dares, stay up till dawn, pranks," Marcy said, feeling like she was explaining the ocean to a fish. "You know, the usual."

Sasha pondered the words for a few moments, then shook her head. "Nah."

"Nah?"

"Nah."

Marcy just stared at her friend, not sure what to make of that. "What do you mean?"

Sasha shrugged. "I mean I don't have a plan. I'm down if you want to go wrest them all awake again, but I'm not gonna insist on it."

"But you always insist on it," Marcy said plainly.

"Do you want to stay up?" Sasha asked.

Marcy considered the question. She had been trying to pace out her energy on the assumption that they'd be up all night... but the prospect of sleep actually sounded really nice. They'd been running basically nonstop since she woke up and she felt physically, mentally, and emotionally drained. "Not... really," Marcy admitted.

Sasha stood up and stretched her arms up. "Well there you have it, birthday girl."

"But you always said that only losers went to bed before dawn," Marcy insisted, still curious.

"Yeah, that sounds like me," Sasha said ruefully. "But we're growing up. More mature and junk." She shrugged.

Marcy frowned. These were traditions that they had held for as long as Marcy could remember. They weren't always good traditions, in retrospect, but it felt weird to suddenly break them. In the past Marcy would have left it at that. Let her curiosity die quietly and move on with the conversation. Current Marcy wanted to prod a bit more. "Is that the real reason?"

Sasha side-eyed Marcy. "Sure. Plus I'm pretty tired."

"That never stopped you before," Marcy verbally poked, tilting her head with faux-innocence.

Sasha looked at her with a deadpan expression before smirking. "You're not gonna let this go, huh?"

Marcy just grinned back in response.

Sasha sighed, then turned around to lean back against the banister. "Fine. So... you know how Anne snores, right?" Marcy nodded, a little confused about how this was relevant. "Like, she snores really loudly," Sasha emphasized.

"I guess?" Marcy shrugged. "It never really bothered me."

"Yeah, I know," Sasha groused good naturedly. "Anyways, during our first few sleepovers way back when, when we finally went to sleep, the two of you were out like a light and I was left tossing and turning all night."