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Mike had his fingers steepled together in contemplation as he studied the board in front of him. Numerous figurines, each one familiar to him, were spread across the grass painted tiles beneath him. An insidious fog surrounded all of them, seeping off the edges of the table like a phantom waterfall.

“What do I do?” he mused out loud. All around the edges of the board, several unpainted statues had appeared, each one of them a humanoid figure caught in various, tortured poses.

His family was trapped. He was trapped. There would be no escape.

Narrowing his gaze, he looked up at the figure standing across the board from him. The options were limited, but a plan had formed. “My bard plays his harmonica and casts Countercharm.”

Bigfoot grunted his approval. “This will grant the party advantage on their rolls against the mysterious fear effect coming from the fog.” He looked over at Callisto. “You’re up.”

Callisto grinned, and picked up his dice. “My centaur Paladin actually has a double advantage due to racial feats.”

Bigfoot shrugged. “Yeah, sure.”

They were sitting in the gazebo with a game board set out before them. Yuki was off to Mike’s right, casually providing the illusory magic that helped bring the game to life. To Mike’s left was Callisto in his centaur form, followed by Nima.

Though Cassie had given Callisto her trophy, today was the day the tournament was originally scheduled. To help the boy keep his mind off of it, they had tried to schedule a playdate with Cassie. Sadly, a couple of her siblings had caught whatever cold was going around, so that had been cancelled.

With no other ideas off the top of his head, somehow, they had ended up playing a makeshift version of DnD. Callisto had invited Nima along, who leaned on his gnarled staff and studied the board with sincere interest.

“Can you funnel any of those guys together?” he asked, indicating one cluster of ghouls.

“Um…” Callisto looked at his miniature, then up at Bigfoot. “Can I?”

The sasquatch grinned. “Sounds like something you need to roll for. But last I checked, you need to see if you can break free of the terror fog.”

“Right.” Callisto picked up the dice and rolled it. “Does a 15 do it?”

“Yep.”

“Cool. I’m going to run in this direction and channel divinity to turn undead.”

Bigfoot grunted in disapproval. “Is that all?”

“Hold on.” Callisto moved his piece into a group of ghouls and then raised his hands pleadingly toward the roof of the gazebo, where his sister was hanging around. “I call upon the divine might of my god, the lord of the forest, HugeFeet the Magnificent, to fill these beings with the dread of his wrath.”

“You forgot your holy symbol,” Nima offered.

“Right.” Callisto lifted the pendant he was wearing around his neck. It was, in fact, a bronze foot. Mike had no idea where his son had acquired such a thing on short notice, but suspected Tink had helped. “Hear his mighty footsteps and flee!”

“You guys are just feeding Bigfoot’s ego,” Mike said.

“Quality roleplay is its own reward,” Bigfoot replied.

“Is that why you keep giving them bonus rolls?” Mike asked.

“I’m rewarding good storytelling.” Bigfoot’s lip curled into a grin. “You’re still just mad about that incident with the zombie giant.”

“My spell should have hit.”

Bigfoot shrugged. “Maybe it would have if someone had been willing to actually sing the lyrics of his song of wrath.”

Yuki elbowed Mike. “I was really hoping you would,” she added. “Along with that dance you described.”

“The one Callisto described for me.” Mike narrowed his eyes on his son. “I see what this is. It’s a shakedown. Let’s all pick on Dad even though he’s on our team.”

“I would never,” Callisto stated with false sincerity, then rolled a handful of dice. “Did I turn them?” he asked.

“You did. The ghouls flee away from you as fast as possible.” Bigfoot looked at Yuki, who shifted the pieces for him. “Anything else?”

“That’s my turn.” Callisto turned to Nima. “You’re up.”

Nima cackled and rubbed his hands together. “Okay, let’s see… I get to roll twice, right?” He picked up a pair of dice and tossed them onto the table. Everybody inhaled sharply as both numbers came up as 1. “Ah, right. Critical failure. I guess I have to flee.”

The centaur moved his piece, then patted Callisto on the shoulder when he noticed the boy’s disappointment. “Sometimes, even with every advantage, you can still fail.”

“I guess,” Callisto mumbled.

“We still have options.” Nima looked up at Grace. He tossed her the dice. “Your turn, bug.”

The Arachne nodded, then tossed the dice straight down into her dice tower. They rattled around inside until emerging in the bowl at the bottom. She stared hard at Bigfoot. “Pass,” she said.

“You did. What does your wizard do?”

Grace used a long stick to move her piece. It was a wizard with a cat’s head. She moved it next to Mike’s bard, then pointed her stick at the tight cluster of ghouls.

“Fireball.” Grace stuck her hand in the pocket of her dress and threw down a handful of d6s. Each one landed in her dice tower, then spilled out into the tray. Yuki created a magical flame that coated the figurines in harmless fire.

“Good job, bug.” Nima saluted Grace as Bigfoot removed several ghouls from the board. He nudged Callisto with his elbow. “You two make a good team.”

“Yeah.” Callisto grinned, clearly very pleased with himself. “It’s your turn, Aunt Yuki.”

Mike sat back in his seat and smiled as he watched the rest of the battle play out. A light breeze was making the flowers along the trellis dance back and forth, and the centaurs in the yard were singing a song about running through the reeds. Local fae from the hedgemaze had actually joined in, and it felt like a miniature Renaissance Festival had suddenly sprung up in Mike’s yard.

Just as the encounter ended, Bigfoot declared a snack break. He and the kids went into the house to raid the pantry, leaving Mike alone with Yuki and Nima. The old centaur smiled politely at the two of them, but seemed content to stand near the edge of the gazebo with his face turned toward the sun, eyes closed. Mike was fairly certain the guy was catching a standing cat nap.

“This is fun,” Yuki said. “I don’t know why we don’t do something like this more often.”

“Bigfoot is usually busy,” Mike explained. “He does the same thing I do, just over in Oregon with the Nirumbi and some other sentient cryptids who have requested sanctuary.”

“How many of them is he fucking?”

Mike glared at the kitsune, who wore a look of total innocence. “I heard he’s got something going on with a swamp monster.”

“I’m gonna tell Beth you called her a swamp monster.”

“You wouldn’t.” Mike playfully tugged on the tail closest to him. He was rewarded with a faceful of foxfire, which washed over his face and lightly scorched his shirt collar.

“You’re lucky you’re fireproof.” Yuki pinched him through his shirt, and the two of them started wrestling in the gazebo. Mike had Yuki pinned backward against the railing as a dark figure approached from the corner of his eye. They both looked over to see Death holding a small plastic bag with happy faces on it in one hand and a pair of roller skates in the other.

“Greetings, Mike and Yuki Radley.” Death looked the two of them over. “As you are both still dressed, I assume it is socially appropriate to speak with you.”

“Of course,” Yuki replied, grinding her crotch against Mike’s where Death couldn’t see. “What’s with the bag?”

“Oh, this?” Death held it up. “This is a goodie bag from Latoya’s birthday party.”

Yuki immediately let Mike go so the two of them could give Death their full attention.

“You were at a birthday party?” Mike asked.

Death nodded. “Over at the Skate Palace. I won the limbo competition.”

Mike and Yuki started speaking at the same time, then exchanged a look. He gestured for her to go first.

“Who is Latoya?”

“A lovely young woman I met at the hospital last year,” Death replied. The Grim Reaper was known to visit with sick children at the hospital. Somehow, it brought them comfort. “She beat cancer back in February, and she asked her parents to invite me to her birthday party.”

“But…” Yuki looked at Mike. It was his turn.

“What did her parents think when you showed up?”

Death grinned. “They thought I was one of the nurses dressed up as Uncle Bones.” That was Death’s nickname given to him by the children. The staff thought he was just a shared, imaginary friend. “Her mother seemed upset at first, but Latoya was so happy to see me that nobody said anything.”

Yuki suppressed a giggle. “So you went to a kid’s birthday party?”

“Of course. Is there any reason I shouldn’t have?”

Mike honestly didn’t have an answer for that. It wasn’t like Death was some random adult hanging out with children. The Reaper was kind of a big child himself in most ways. “So you won the limbo competition?”

Death nodded. “It was just supposed to be for the kids. Everybody was really impressed when I made it under that bar. I do regret bringing that six-year-old to tears when I beat her, though, so I gave her my coupon for free nachos.”

Mike and Yuki exchanged another look, then did a quick paper-rock-scissors to see who would get to ask the next question. Yuki won.

“How did you beat a little kid in a limbo on roller skates?” she asked.

“I leaned backward without falling. It really isn’t that hard.” He held the bag out. “You can give this to Grace or Callisto Radley, but not Matilda. I fear she will eat the party favors.”

“Probably would.” Mike took the bag and looked inside. He pulled out a plastic ring with a gem in it. “Yeah, she wouldn’t even bother chewing on this. We busted her eating the buttons off of my shirts last week.”

“She is quite the terror.” Death chuckled and lifted his skates. “I hope you don’t mind, but I did purchase these with your credit card. Kisa Radley gave me her permission.”

Mike waved it off. “It’s not a problem, buddy. How was the party?”

“Very fun. My robe got caught in my skates a couple of times, though, and I fell.”

“You’ve been spending a lot of time out in public lately.” Yuki reached her hand toward the skates, which Death handed to her. She flicked the wheels, which lit up while spinning. “Any reason?”

“I prefer to meet people long before I’m supposed to. It reminds me of why my job is so important.” Death grinned at Mike. “There is so much joy to be found in the act of living, Mike Radley. As the harbinger of the end, I have learned to appreciate witnessing life as it happens, and being among those with many years ahead of them. If I could, I would meet everybody and be their friend as I am yours.”

“That’s a very noble stance to take.” Mike smiled. “Though it would stretch you pretty thin. I know I would miss seeing you around if you decided to meet everybody.”

Death nodded. “I’m aware of your current situation and wish to avoid a similar one of my own. That is why I try to stick to a social calendar with well-defined boundaries. Meeting new people is indeed fun, but can turn into time that I miss with others. I have no idea how you do it.”

“Not well,” Yuki muttered, then playfully elbowed Mike to let him know she was only teasing.

“Speaking of such things, did you ever talk to your friend?” Mike asked. “The one who may have thought you were dating?”

“Er…no.” Death scratched his chin. “She works a couple of jobs and I haven’t gone back to the club yet. Perhaps…I should go tonight, and see if she has a minute to talk. If there is a misunderstanding, I would prefer to clear things up.”

“Maybe you should tell her closer to the end of her shift,” Mike added. “In case she’s upset.”

“Though maybe telling her early on would be better.” Yuki shrugged when Mike looked at her. “Maybe focusing on work will take the sting out of it.” She handed Death his skates. “That’s my perspective.”

“With differing opinions, I shall ask Kisa Radley what she thinks.” Death took his skates. “And maybe see if she will go with me.”

“Not a bad plan.” Mike watched the Reaper wander toward the house, then gave Yuki a look. “I’m trying really hard to picture him in roller skates.”

“I bet those places do private parties.” She leaned backward against the railing and grinned. “Could always rent the place out if you wanted. The whole family could go.”

He snorted. “Can you imagine how much that would freak out the Order?”

“They won’t do anything.” She let out a sound of disgust. “They learned the hard way that they should just leave us alone.”

“Yeah, but we learned a long time ago that we have to be careful if too many of us are in one place.” He pointed up at the sky, referring to the Others. The otherworldly beings were attracted to certain things in high concentrations, such as magic or divinity. They were safe on his property, but other locations would become problematic. “It might be easier to just build a skating rink.”

“I bet Ratu could toss something together. Smooth marble floor, have Tink put up some walls.”

Mike snorted. “At this point, maybe I should just build an entire other world for everybody. Go somewhere safe where they can never find us.”

“I’d start with the skating rink first.” She put a hand on his chest, then turned her head as Bigfoot and the kids came back outside. Grace was holding a popsicle in both hands while Callisto munched on a sandwich. “Looks like we’re about to find out who the bad guy is who resurrected all those ghouls. My money is on the king’s advisor.”

“Are we going to interrupt the bad guy’s monologue?” he asked. “They love to hear themselves talk.”

Yuki laughed. “Of course we will. We’re Radleys. That’s what we do.”

---

They had been standing in the lobby for nearly twenty minutes when the chief of staff pushed her way through the doors. Alexandros noticed that the woman walked at a crisp pace with an annoyed look on her face. She stopped several feet away and gave his group a quick survey.

“So I understand that you’re with the CDC?” she asked. Her eyes flicked from one person to another in an attempt to gauge who was really in charge. Alexandros noted that her badge identified her as Dr. Lopez.

“Special Task Force,” Alexandros replied, then pulled the fake credentials from his pocket. If she were to call the CDC to verify, they already had someone in place who would. “We’re here to see Isaac Rodriquez.”

Dr. Lopez nodded. “If that’s how you want to waste your time and mine, then be my guest.”

She led the team through the double doors and down the hallway. After a quick elevator trip, they were now on the third floor of the hospital with a view of the street. Alexandros stood near the window, identifying exit routes out of habit.

On the bed, a man in his twenties was fast asleep. His heart monitor chirped softly in the corner as Dr. Lopez picked up the man’s chart.

“Well?” she asked. “Is it everything you hoped it would be?”

“Isaac Rodriquez stepped onto a plane in Hawaii, a healthy, fully functional twenty-seven-year old man.” Alexandros didn’t need a chart. “Just a few days later, he is in a coma-like state, unable to be sufficiently awakened.”

Dr. Lopez shrugged. “And? It could be some sort of sleep disorder. Maybe exhaustion from drinking too much while on vacation and napping in the sun. Medical exhaustion is also an option. I guess I’m not certain why the CDC has such an interest in this.”

“Because Isaac Rodriquez is not likely to wake up.” Alexandros snapped his fingers and Basil opened the small briefcase he was holding to hand over a thick folder. “We have thirteen other documented cases across the United States, passengers who stumbled off their flights and returned home, only to fall asleep. We have been trying to coordinate our efforts to figure out what they all have in common along with potential pathogen exposure.”

This was a lie. Alexandros knew exactly what had caused this. This was nothing more than a fact-finding mission.

“You think a pathogen caused this?” Dr. Lopez frowned.

“I do. We also have evidence that it may be contagious. Who is in charge of your night shift?”

Dr. Lopez shook her head. “He has no other symptoms. Do you really think whatever he has spreads by, what, breathing?”

Dreaming, actually. Alexandros didn’t dare say it out loud. “I would like to speak to whoever runs your night shift. We have some questions for people who have been around the patient.”

The doctor mumbled something about conspiracy theorists, then walked out the door to make some calls. A nurse came in a few minutes later.

“Dr. Lopez sent me to answer any questions you may have,” the woman said. Her ID tag said Nurse Lisa. “I take over for the night shift and may be able to answer them.”

“Are there any other patients on this floor who have started sleeping longer than usual?” Alexandros asked. “Or perhaps started having strange dreams?”

The woman cocked her head to one side. “Now that you mention it, we have had a few oddball reports about people seeing…” Lisa shook her head. “Never mind.”

“No, please.” Alexandros sat in the visitor’s chair. “Hallucinations can be an early symptom.”

“Well…” Lisa looked over toward the door, then pushed it shut. “The hospital is haunted. I don’t know if you knew that.”

“I did,” Alexandros replied. It was some low rank entities, mostly non-sentient, but he wasn’t about to explain that to Lisa. Those things were harmless.

“In the last couple of days, some of the nurses have seen things crawling on the floor, under and behind the beds.” Lisa shivered. “A couple of patients have, as well. And we’ve got an elderly Mexican lady two doors down who refuses to fall asleep. Keeps saying that La Pisadeira will get her if she does.”

Alexandros looked at one of the mages he had brought, who nodded and excused herself from the room. Some protective wards on the floor may help, but it was probably too late.

“How often do doctors and nurses nap while on shift?” he asked.

“Um…that sounds like something I really shouldn’t answer,” Lisa replied.

Alexandros glanced at the door, then back at Lisa. “Listen. I’m about to tell you something extremely important that won’t make a lot of sense. If you think I’m crazy, that’s fine, but it won’t seem so crazy in a few days.”

Now Lisa looked concerned. “Maybe I should go get—”

“Under no circumstances should you or any of your coworkers fall asleep around this man.” Alexandros looked at Basil, who had already moved to take a sample of Isaac’s hair. The Knight that had come with them was swabbing the man’s cheek. “If I tell Dr. Lopez, she won’t give a shit. But nurses are the backbone here, and you’re the only one I might get to speak with. Do you understand?”

Nurse Lisa looked like she was struggling to find words when Dr. Lopez came back through the door with a look of concern on her face. She stared at Alexandros, then looked at Nurse Lisa.

“You can go,” she said.

“I would like her to stay.” Alexandros already had an idea what he was about to hear.

“I just called the woman in charge of our night shift,” Dr. Lopez said. “She…her husband said he can’t wake her up. Slurred speech, possibly delirious. EMS are already en route.”

“And you don’t think it could be something else, like drugs or alcohol? The woman isn’t at work, after all.”

Dr. Lopez shook her head. “This is somebody I trust implicitly. It has to be…” She looked over at Isaac.

Nurse Lisa looked like she was going to be sick. She took a step away from the patient and covered her mouth. Basil had already moved behind the woman, and caught her when she tried to bolt out of the room.

“A modicum of calm would serve you well,” he told her, then handed her a Werther’s. The nurse took it, then looked at her boss.

Alexandros let out a sigh, then studied Dr. Lopez’s face. The woman looked genuinely rattled. She had no idea how bad it was going to get. “I need to see the timeline on Mr. Rodriquez’s arrival. I believe he may be roughly a day ahead of the other patients we’ve already met.”

“What…” Dr. Lopez took a deep breath and pulled a silver cross from the inside of her shirt. She took a moment and seemed to be whispering a prayer under her breath. Once finished, she tucked it away. “I suppose you found that silly.”

“On the contrary, it may be the most helpful thing we can do right now.” Alexandros stood and moved to where Basil was still speaking softly to Nurse Lisa. “From what we understand, this illness seems to be related to an infamous historical event from the 1920s known as the Sleeping Sickness. Modern day scientists believe it was likely related to encephalitis. The means of transmission are unknown.”

Dr. Lopez nodded. “What do we know?” she asked.

“Quarantine is essential. The farther we can get the infected away from others, the better.” He clicked his fingers, and a packet of papers slanted in his hand. “Transfer paperwork. If there are any other people in this hospital in the same boat as Mr. Rodriquez, we need to know.”

“I’ll talk to the other nurses.” Dr. Lopez looked at Lisa, who had calmed down. “Go find the supervisor for this unit and send them here. As for Mr. Rodriquez, what can we expect from this? Is there a cure?”

Alexandros shook his head. “We don’t know yet. The infected will fall asleep. Some will regain consciousness after a few days. Others will slip in and out for weeks, maybe months. Then there are those who will sleep and possibly never awaken. During the Sleeping Sickness incident, some were unconscious for years.”

“Surely modern medicine—”

“And that’s why we’re here.” Alexandros patted the woman on the shoulder, then looked at Isaac. The man hadn’t so much as cracked an eyelid, he was out cold. “To solve a historical problem with modern solutions.”

What he hadn’t told Dr. Lopez was that every victim was currently being held hostage in their own Dreamscape. The Black Prince typically lured stronger victims with sexy dreams, much like a succubus would. In fact, the stronger the soul, the better the feast. However, the records stated that he couldn’t simply devour a soul in this manner. Instead, he would leech off of them a little at a time, treating each victim like a living battery.

Those who died while under his thrall became food for the beast. Those who escaped often didn’t come back the same as they had gone in.

The supervisor arrived, and Dr. Lopez left the room to speak with them. The Order team stood around Isaac Rodriquez for a few moments before the Knight spoke.

“So we’re not taking him out?” she asked.

Alexandros shook his head. “This won’t be like South Carolina. At this point, the infection has already spread. Unless you’re willing to go on a murder spree in this hospital, we cannot contain it.”

The mage cleared his throat. “If you give the order, we could probably bring in several teams. Those merc guys of yours would do it. Maybe fake a hostage situation, sneak the infected out, drop them in the ocean a few miles out like the last three.”

And that’s what bothers me the most. Alexandros exchanged a dark look with Basil. The team had been happy enough to wash their hands of the men and women they had already gotten rid of. The others had been partially awake, which meant there was still hope to pull them from the Black Prince’s grasp. Even so, the younger personnel with him had questioned the decision to keep them alive.

“This problem is already out of hand.” Basil spoke softly, but there was a dangerous edge to his voice. “This is a hospital. Hundreds of people come in and out of here every day. You can’t think of the entity as a singular being. It is everywhere right now, sinking its talons into the dreams of the innocent. And if there’s one thing it is good at, it’s biding its time.”

Alexandros made a sound of disgust in the back of his throat. “Indeed.”

The mage who had left returned with a worried look on her face. “I’ve confirmed the presence of multiple entities,” she said.

“The hospital has its own spirits,” Alexandros replied.

“It’s not them.” The mage looked at Isaac for a moment, then back at Alexandros. “I’ve spotted evidence of at least two Baku. The others, I’m not sure.”

“Dream eaters?” Alexandros frowned. “They’re usually very solitary. Why would they be here?”

“Plenty to eat?” the mage suggested.

“No, it’s not that.” Alexandros looked at Isaac. “The Kalu Kumara wouldn’t allow others to infringe on its turf like that.” The entity had always acted alone, and had been fiercely territorial over its prey. So what has changed?

Was it the involvement of the Collector? When Alexandros had learned that victim zero had met with the woman, it had sent chills down his spine. Long had the Collector worked with the Order, so much that she was firmly entrenched with the upper ranks. To accuse her of malfeasance, well…he would end up having to battle the very organization his family had sworn to protect.

Only Basil knew this. Right now, Alexandros’ priority was to try and contain the situation, even though there was plenty of evidence that he had already failed.

The sleepers they had already encountered were simply the first to come. Those who were asleep were firmly in the Kalu’s grasp, while those struggling with exhaustion were either potential future prey, or would snap out of it on their own.

“Fuck,” Alexandros whispered in horror. There was no path forward from this that he could fathom. Though he loathed the idea, he might need to confront the Collector and ask what the purpose of this was. He couldn’t imagine she would have orchestrated this without a way to shove the Black Prince back into his cage.

Dr. Lopez came back into the room with a dark look on her face. “My supervisor just informed me that there are two people in the waiting room who fell asleep and can’t be awoken.”

One thing was clear. Things were about to get a lot worse before they got better. Alexandros studied the woman for a moment and made a note to have Basil do a background search on her. She seemed extremely competent, especially when faced with facts.

She would be a very valuable asset if he could just be direct with her. For now, this would have to work.

“I suggest you put on a very strong pot of coffee,” he said as he pulled off his coat. “Because things are about to get very busy.”

---

The observatory was silent save for the soft clicking of gears adjusting against each other as they were slid onto their rods. Lying on a scaffold, Dana was slipping them into place while wearing Tink’s goggles.

The goggles themselves told the zombie exactly how the gears would turn and function with the others. The slightest misalignment would immediately register warnings in the corner of her eye that the mechanism would no longer work. With insane precision, she had been installing gears for almost twenty-four hours now.

She had no idea how Merlin had created a mechanism so intricate on his own, but deduced it was likely with magical assistance. Her own epiphany regarding the tower hadn’t come until she had tripped serious balls after biting into a shoggoth and gone back and forth along her own timeline, where she had gotten the opportunity to drink her own blood from when she was alive.

The story itself was pretty complicated. Honestly, it was one of those things you had to be there for.

It had taken her the last year just to identify a manufacturer for gears that were not only small, but could handle the torque of the massive system. She had drawn and redrawn the plans for the instrument over a dozen times. Every time she installed what she thought was a functioning system, she soon learned that there was a portion she had missed. This problem had vexed her until she truly understood the truth about the observatory itself.

The last time she had been consumed by such a project, it had been a magical clock that asked her to fix it. She had been told after the fact that she possessed a spark, one that allowed her to understand the interior of the sentient device.

Neither she nor any of the others had known what TickTock meant by this statement, but whatever she had lost was now back with a vengeance. Her prior understanding of the observatory had been surface level at best, and she was now beginning to realize that this structure was likely multi-dimensional.

Based on the math alone, she had crammed enough gears into the telescope assembly to far exceed the volume of the observatory roof itself. The violation of Euclidean space was no longer a surprise to her anymore.

Dana finished fixing the gear in place and studied the mechanism. The goggles flicked back and forth between lenses, showing her everything that might go wrong.

“Huh.” Dana took off the goggles and turned her head to survey the massive mechanism arrayed along the interior of the dome. The telescope itself had been finalized last year with some upgrades based on modern day optics. That had required Ratu’s help in determining how much of the telescope, if any, was utilizing magical enchantments.

What they had now was a telescope far beyond the capabilities of anything short of a satellite array here on Earth. If Dana could point it at the moon, she could likely read the lettering on the lunar rovers that had been left behind.

And now, all that was left was to attach the telescope to the system. Years of tireless work and the occasional lost limb had finally turned into a finished project.

Dana sat up on the scaffold and picked up her phone. She tapped on Tasia’s picture and sent a quick text.

What are you wearing?

Her phone chimed a moment later, revealing a selfie of Tasia in a sundress. She was apparently at the beach with the merfolk at what appeared to be a big luau. In the background, a roasted pig could be seen. Villagers and merfolk alike were scattered all around, enjoying what looked like bottles of wine.

Dana frowned. Had she missed a celebration? On more than one occasion, Tasia had ended up attending an important event on her own because Dana was so caught up in a project. Losing track of time during a project had been an old trait of hers that she had reacquired after consuming her own blood.

What are they celebrating? Dana texted.

Nothing really, came the reply. Shortly after, another text popped up. Any excuse to party is a good one.

Relieved that she hadn’t forgotten something important, Dana texted again.

When you’re done stuffing yourself, you should come home and stuff me.

She smirked as it became clear that Tasia was trying to formulate a proper response. Eventually, the werewolf sent back a selfie from above and she had pulled the collar of her dress down to reveal her breasts.

Need to help with a mandragora problem real quick. You actually done with the observatory? Really, actually done?

Dana replied in the affirmative. She jumped off the scaffolding and landed in a silent crouch, then took off the goggles and set them on her workbench. Her phone dinged again and she checked Tasia’s response.

We need to talk.

The abrupt change in tone threw Dana for a moment, but then she realized it hadn’t come from Tasia at all. It was from Ratu.

My place or yours? she replied.

Mine. The response was immediate.

Dana checked in with Tasia to make sure she would not be home right away. The last thing she wanted to do was get Tasia all excited to get laid and then go somewhere else.

Apparently Tasia had agreed to help move some Mandragora creepers that had ended up in a bad spot for the merfolk. She was strong enough that the plant couldn’t casually carry her off, nor did it want to mess with her because she could transform and slash it. So, much like a petulant child, it would go limp and force Tasia to drag the massive vines off to wherever they should be growing.

Even with her enhanced strength, Tasia estimated that it would take at least an hour. Figuring this was long enough, Dana let Ratu know she was on her way and made sure to lock the door to the observatory on her way out.

There was a small contingent of rats outside the door. They looked up from their Pokemon cards and gave her a wave as she passed by. The rats were primarily there to keep the children from trying to get through the door, Matilda mostly. The goblin had an uncanny knack for getting into places that should be impossible, so nobody was taking any chances.

The rats themselves couldn’t do much. Instead, they had a secret stash of snacks to hold the child’s attention until a proper grown-up could be retrieved.

Dana took a secret passageway to get down to the main body of the house. Mike had actually made the regular path to the tower a bit difficult to follow, as nobody but Dana needed to be going up there. Halfway down the spiral staircase, Dana stopped and used her phone as a flashlight to reveal several drawings that had been done on the wall in crayon. They depicted goblin faces in various forms of booger-picking.

“Damn it, Matilda.” She shook her head and sent Mike a quick text to move the entrance to this passageway somewhere else. The message got stuck due to the fact that she was surrounded by stone walls in a magic castle, but would pop through once she was in range of a wifi router.

Now in the main house, she walked to the small room that contained Ratu’s portal, among others, and paused. A thick, oaken door with multiple locks, both physical and magical, sat just outside. The locked room wasn’t very large at all, barely bigger than a closet.

Inside the room was a piece of dark leather armor constructed from the flesh of a god. Dana had only seen it once, the baleful eye in the chest looking right at her as it was sealed away. A single whiff had been enough, the smell promising a feast that would taste like whatever Dana could ever imagine.

It was a god of war, but nobody knew which one. Mike had put the artifact to rest, and would only occasionally go inside to check on it, often with Ratu present. At any moment in time, Dana felt like she could close her eyes and know exactly where that armor was in regard to her current location, like a lighthouse in the fog.

Licking her lips, she stepped through the door that would take her to the labyrinth and left the armor behind.

In the center of Ratu’s labyrinth, a small group of men, women, and even a couple of centaurs bustled around. Many of these were apprentices in either advanced alchemy or enchantment. Three of the villagers had shown minor magical aptitude, and both of the centaurs had learned enough from Zel that they were now here to specialize in magic.

Dana paused when she saw Asterion lurking nearby. The minotaur looked a bit unsettled by the hubbub, and kept casting mournful glances at the labyrinth itself. It was clear to Dana that the poor guy was mostly an introvert. While happy to be in the company of just a couple of people, there didn’t seem to be anywhere he could really go to get away from larger groups of people, other than the maze.

And it wasn’t like the labyrinth was even needed now. Anyone powerful enough to get down here would be able to blast their way straight through.

Asterion helped lift what looked like a chunk of lead onto a scale as Dana passed the small crowd and went straight for Ratu’s pagoda. The naga was waiting at the door for Dana’s arrival. She was wearing a white and gold kimono with a golden dragon dancing along the fabric.

“This way,” the naga said, waving Dana inside.

“I’m surprised you didn’t send a fairy for me.”

“I did.” Ratu narrowed her eyes. “Almost three hours ago.”

“Oh.”

They entered the magical pagoda where Ratu stepped onto a very plush carpet in the middle of the room. It lifted into the air, levitating slowly as it approached the apex of the building.

“Wouldn’t walking be faster?” Dana asked, looking at the spiral floorplan.

“It would.” Ratu pointed up. “But this is the only way to get there.”

“I see.” Dana looked down at the rug, then up at their destination. “But why so slow?”

In response, Ratu shook out her sleeve until a paper fan appeared. She threw it straight up where it flashed against an unseen grid of magic, the pieces floating down all around them.

“Magical security system.”

“You sure the fairies won’t fly into it by accident?” Dana asked.

The naga snorted. “I showed it to them already,” she muttered. “To keep them from going up there.”

“And they listened?”

Ratu smirked. “I turned the intensity down for the first week. After the fifth time flying into it, it seemed like they had finally learned their lesson.”

Dana looked at the narrow opening they were moving toward. “I can’t help but notice you’ve made it look as boring as possible.”

“And several pinky promises that there was nothing interesting for them to play with.” Ratu narrowed her eyes. “With our recent additions, there are some things I need to keep under a proper lock and key.”

The enchantment fizzled along Dana’s skin. She was tempted to jerk her arm suddenly and see what happened, but if the spell vaporized that limb, she wouldn’t be able to grow it back. The carpet came to a stop and shimmered beneath their feet, transforming into stone.

The room they were inside had windows that somehow looked out over a sweeping vista. Dana stepped off the carpet and looked outside.

“Pocket dimension?” she asked.

“No.” Ratu pressed on the window closest to her, causing a momentary glitch in the image. “LED screens and webcams.”

“No magic?”

The naga shook her head. “This area is very volatile, for reasons that will become obvious. Please.” She gestured toward the far edge of the room where Dana saw an ornate wardrobe. It looked very similar to the one that used to lead to the tower world where the old centaur tribe still lived. Despite Ratu’s pinky promise, the rest of the room looked packed with interesting items. Dana could understand why the fairies would want to come up here.

Ratu led Dana to the wardrobe and activated some manual mechanism. Instead of opening, the whole wardrobe slid along the wall where a small workspace sat behind it. Dana recognized several biological samples from her own body. A couple patches of skin, some hair, and several vials of blood were scattered across the desk.

As soon as they entered, Mace dropped down from above. The magical weapon hovered as if inspecting them, then moved away to let them pass.

“I was wondering where that had gotten to,” Dana muttered.

“A necessary precaution. Your specimens cannot be allowed to escape.” Ratu shut the door behind her. “And neither can those.”

Dana turned to see a small shelf with protective glass along the wall. Its contents included two vials of a dark, amorphous material that shifted back and forth while she watched. The vials each contained a drop of Santa’s blood.

A crystalline decanter of what seemed to be pure light was in a separate shelf nearby. This was the combined life force of the Fae, easily worth hundreds of years of life. It had been given to the Moon Tribe, who had given it to Ratu for safe-keeping. The light leaving the cabinet actually seemed to bend toward the vials, then shy away at the last second.

The third shelf contained a large pearl. Once upon a time, Dana would have struggled to take her eyes away from the Dragon Seed, but no longer had the appetite for it. She had far better things to eat these days.

“What am I looking at?” Dana asked.

“A cure.” Ratu didn’t waste time building suspense. “For your condition.”

“My condition.” There really wasn’t a word or phrase for Dana’s condition. Her soul was locked into her individual cells, meaning she could never truly die. For the last few years, Ratu had been pursuing this. “I thought this was going to take longer.”

Ratu snorted. “Once upon a time, nations would have gone to war simply to possess any of these items. The fact that they essentially fell into my lap has expedited the process by centuries.”

“And you think it’ll work? The cure?” Dana felt a swell of hope, but didn’t want to hold onto it for long. She knew the rules.

“I know it will work. I’ve made tremendous progress just exposing your cells to these items. The life-force seeping off of the decanter would allow a normal human to live an extended life by proximity alone. This, combined with the weirdness around Santa’s blood, would enable us to essentially flood your cells with life and formally knock your soul loose, as it were.”

Dana thought on this for a moment, then nodded. “I guess that makes sense. How does the Dragon Seed factor in?”

Ratu smirked. “It doesn’t. It did, however, inspire the cure. If you had been able to retrieve all the items from Unearthly Delights, I would have done the same process in a very roundabout fashion, which required the Seed.”

She tapped on the glass of the shelves. “But it’s no longer needed, now. I keep it locked up to stop the fairies from licking the damned thing. They think I hid it in the labyrinth, but that was just a fake.”

“I see.”

The naga studied Dana for a second, then snorted. “I know you’re dead inside, but I expected some enthusiasm.”

“I’m waiting to hear the cost.”

Ratu nodded. “Right. Naturally, the primary cost is the contents of the decanter, as well as one of the vials. Knowing that your body can handle both, it would mostly be a matter of consuming them, and then guiding the process.”

“And?”

“And then I don’t know.” Ratu frowned. “Once we undo the necromancer’s lock, for lack of a better word, anything could happen to you. Maybe your cells retain a memory of their trials, and every injury suffered since your death returns. Or perhaps you turn fully human once more, at which point your belly is full of powerful eldritch magic. You could burn up, detonate, or age a thousand years before my very eyes. Or maybe you just turn into an ordinary girl.”

“There’s nothing ordinary about me.”

“You are quite right.” Ratu smiled, her eyes sparkling with mirth. “I needed you to know that the cure is ready, but I’m not sure what the outcome will be, other than ensuring you a proper death when the time is right. I don’t even know what will become of your dietary habits. At the very minimum, I will guarantee that the experience will be very interesting.”

Dana crossed her arms and stared at the vial. “Interesting how?”

“Based on what you told me about consuming the flesh of a shoggoth, I feel the need to point out that Santa’s blood, while certainly of the same phylum, is far more pure and concentrated. That, coupled with the lifeforce of the Fae, will absolutely ensure you trip over balls.”

Now Dana grinned. “You remembered,” she said, despite the naga’s mistake.

“Please. The summation of your firsthand description was extremely amusing.” Ratu moved to her lab bench and picked up a vial of Dana’s blood. “I should also note that tests about the effects of your blood on other beings after exposure had mixed results. Some test subjects died after consuming it, then re-animated, while others didn’t. So I don’t know if you’ll still be undead or not. I should also point out that there is a high likelihood of a psychotic break.”

“Not a surprise.” Dana was doing far better these days, but it had been a long road. The Radley family’s personal therapist was very well paid and had no other clients as a result. “So the cure might kill me.”

“Yep.”

“I feel like this could have been an email.”

Ratu glared at Dana. “Of course it couldn’t. I still don’t trust your modern-day science in regards to our communications. If the djinn were still around, it is very likely they would be able to see our texts as physical manifestations. It would probably drive the poor things mad.”

“We’re all mad down here,” Dana replied in a sing-song voice eerily reminiscent of Jenny.

“Of all the things you reacquired during your last drug trip, your sense of humor is perhaps my least favorite.”

The zombie shrugged. “I guess you could say it was quite grim, before.”

“Get out.” Ratu pointed at the exit. “For someone who hasn’t officially swapped souls with Mike Radley, I’m not sure how you got his sense of humor.”

Dana held back a grin as they left. Mace waved goodbye as the wardrobe slid back into place, concealing the secret lab. The two of them stood in the empty room for a minute before Dana finally broke the silence.

“When should I take it?” she asked.

“No idea,” Ratu replied. “I suppose, in a perfect world, you would live until you’re tired, then consume the concoction. But this isn’t a perfect world. Every day these items are in my care is one more day somebody potentially learns about them. I lost the Grimoire in this manner, after all. And we couldn’t store these things together inside of Tick Tock for obvious reasons. I don’t know how things inside the mimic’s belly interact with one another. Suffice to say, I can’t tell you when to do it. This is an intensely personal decision that nobody can make for you.”

“Oh.” Now Dana almost felt bad for her flippant response earlier. The importance of the moment was clearly weighing heavily on Ratu.

“Now she gets it.” Ratu sighed, then led Dana toward the stone rug. Once the zombie was aboard, the enchantress tapped her on the head and the stone softened into fabric beneath Dana’s feet. “You can see yourself out.”

The slow ride down was excruciatingly long, so Dana took a shortcut and hopped off, landing on the nearest floor. She jogged the rest of the way down the remaining floors, then caught some curious looks upon exiting the pagoda without Ratu in tow.

Wanting somewhere quiet to think, she wandered toward the entrance of the Labyrinth where nobody else would be around to distract her. Dana’s emotions, as if moving in slow-motion, had started filing in to be processed. The emotional high of finishing the telescope was heavily mitigated by the potential low of her cure.

Once inside the Labyrinth, Dana was careful to avoid the traps she knew were there. The odds of anyone trying to come through the labyrinth were essentially zero, but Ratu insisted on keeping the place maintained, both for her own sake and Asterion’s.

It also occurred to Dana that the naga was aware that nothing lasted forever. This place was safe within the confines of the Caretaker’s home, but that wouldn’t always be true.

Walking along the river, that thought threw some perspective on Dana’s situation. Things recently had been… good. Her life over the last year had improved substantially compared to before. She was more in touch with her previous self, and was no longer an emotionless robot. Dana had also found love again, a special kind of love that would likely be back in their room within the next half-an-hour.

If Ratu could promise Dana that she would survive the process, or that she would be able to live some semblance of her current life, she would have done it right away. The naga wasn’t wrong when she said that something could happen to the cure and they’d lose it.

Dana found herself at the entry basin of a river that raged just beyond the stones around it. This river actually circled the whole Labyrinth. She and Tasia had gone tubing on it a couple of times before Ratu caught them and threw them out.

Standing on the edge of the pond, Dana knelt down and picked up some stones. She skipped them so hard on the water that they cracked against the opposite wall like a gunshot, before dropping into the river.

The smell of the world’s best roast beef sandwich filled her nostrils and she turned to see Asterion watching her. The minotaur snorted, then knelt down to pick up a stone roughly the size of a human head. He skipped it across the river where it shattered against the opposite wall.

Dana didn’t see this as an attempt to outdo her. The minotaur had much thicker fingers than she did and had likely grabbed the first rock he could find.

“Am I intruding?” she asked.

Asterion shook his head, then spoke with a rumbling voice. “It is quiet here.”

“It is.” Unsure if she wanted to stay, she didn’t want to give the minotaur the wrong idea by leaving. He could be sensitive to such things. “I have a lot on my mind.”

The minotaur nodded, and sat on a nearby rock. Dana couldn’t help but notice that his loincloth shifted enough to accidentally reveal his beefy bits. “It is hard to think of many things. My thoughts are like bees. They buzz too much.”

“Oh yeah?” Dana sat across from him. “What’s on your mind?”

The minotaur rumbled quietly, clearly deep in thought. He scratched at the flesh between his nostrils, then sighed. “It is too busy.”

“You don’t like it when it’s busy?”

He shook his head. “I do not.”

This didn’t surprise Dana. Seeing the opportunity to satisfy her curiosity, she decided to pry. “Weren’t you lonely before?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

Dana waited for more to come, then remembered who she was talking to. “I thought you would be happier now that you have friends.”

“Mmm.” The minotaur nodded thoughtfully. “My friends are too busy. Beth is too busy. Now, I am lonely but not alone.”

“I used to feel that way a lot.” Long nights of not needing sleep and desperately trying to occupy her time had done that. With the telescope done, that might even happen again.

“But you are better now.”

“I am.” Dana stared out at the water. “But I have a big decision to make.”

Asterion nodded. “Everyone is always making big decisions now. I miss the small decisions. I miss the quiet.”

“Do you still like the labyrinth?”

He nodded.

“Have you thought about spending more time here?”

The minotaur shrugged, then picked up another small boulder and threw it. The stone cracked against the opposite wall and disappeared in the river.

“Things are always changing. I will either change with them or will be left behind.” Asterion frowned. “I do not want to be left behind.”

“I don’t, either.” Dana thought about Tasia. What would happen to her if Dana took the cure? Or their relationship? It suddenly occurred to Dana that this was what she was most afraid of losing. If not for Tasia, she would already potentially be the remnants of a popped blood balloon in Ratu’s laboratory.

Asterion seemed content to sit and wait while Dana pondered this thought for a while. Finally, she realized how much time had passed and stood.

“Have you talked to Beth about this?”

Asterion shrugged.

“You should. She is your closest friend, right?”

The minotaur shrugged. “She is my closest friend, but I do not think I am hers.”

Oof. That was a lot to unpack, and Dana certainly wasn’t the one to help him. “It sounds like you found your place, but lost it.”

“Yes!” Asterion seemed nearly excited at the revelation.

“Maybe you need to make a new place, then.” Dana was already on her feet. “I need to go.”

“You do.”

She looked back one time. The minotaur stared sadly at the river, lost in thoughts that were never that deep to begin with. He had gotten lost in all of the changes that the home had gone through, and now felt left behind.

If she were to become human again, it was likely the same might happen to her.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she whispered to herself as she navigated the labyrinth and headed for Ratu’s lair for the shortcut portal home. Before she made any sort of decision, Dana needed to speak with Tasia first. Her girlfriend likely had plenty of input about it. Afterward, they could go talk to Naia, or maybe Yuki.

Hell, they could talk to everyone. Even though Dana kept to herself, the whole Radley family was one, big supportive community. Even Tink would have plenty to say, in her roundabout, horny goblin manner.

When Dana finally returned to the tower, she stepped inside into the room only a minute before Tasia did. The werewolf strolled in with a big grin on her face and several scratches all along her arms. Her dress was ripped in more than one place, and she had a black eye that was already fading.

“Is all of that from the mandragora?” Dana asked.

“Mostly.” Tasia closed the tower door behind her. “That plant has been eating real good lately. Pele thinks it must be wild pigs.”

“Does it ever feel weird to be on a first-name basis with a goddess?” Dana’s thoughts immediately went to her current predicament.

Tasia placed her arms over Dana’s shoulders. “I don’t really think so. After all, we’re dating.”

“Smooth.” Dana closed her eyes as Tasia kissed her forehead, then lifted her lips for something a bit more passionate. She ran her hands down Tasia’s waist, her fingers catching on a hole in the back of the sundress.

“Nothing smooth about me,” Tasia said once the kiss was over. “I’d have to get a Brazilian twice a day to keep it clean.” She wrapped her hands around Dana’s butt. “So it’s finished? You’re done?”

“Almost.”

Tasia groaned. “You’ve been almost done for years. Why would you even tell me it’s finished?”

Dana held up two fingers. “One, because I wanted you to be here for the last step.”

“Oh?” Tasia's eyes sparkled. “That’s so sweet!”

“And two, because I need your help with the last step.”

“If the last step involves being on my back for longer than ten minutes without an orgasm, I’m out.”

Dana rolled her eyes. “I’m starting to regret letting you go to girls’ night with Lily.”

Tasia snorted. “Oh, please. This is the side of me you get to see when I’m happy.” She did a little spin and lifted her dress to better reveal her ass. “Wait until you see the other side.”

The zombie licked her lips. The sight was both arousing and made her hungry. After she was human again, would her libido and hunger be inextricably entwined? She didn’t like the idea of associating the two and becoming monstrously fat every time she needed her bell rung.

“What’re you thinking about?” Tasia asked.

“I think you know.” Dana stepped away from her girlfriend and pointed at the telescope. “Once we mount that thing, we should celebrate by mounting each other.”

The werewolf grinned. “I love it when we’re both on the same page. What do I need to do?”

Dana pointed at a pair of metallic arms that looked like they were hanging from above. “There’s a bracket on the telescope that this will fit into. Once that’s in place, I need to shove a couple of pins in place, and then the mechanism should work.”

“Amazing.” Tasia tilted her head back to look at the dome above her. “To think you’ve been working on… on…”

The werewolf suddenly lost her balance and fell. Dana lurched into motion and caught her before she hit the ground.

“You okay?”

Tasia blinked several times. One of her eyes was dilated while the other wasn’t. Eventually, she focused on Dana, then turned to look at the closest wall. “Holy shit, what did you do?” she asked, her voice full of awe.

“Huh?” Dana looked up at the mechanism, but didn’t see what Tasia was referring to. “Is something wrong?”

“All of it is wrong,” Tasia muttered. “When I looked up at the ceiling, it felt like half of it was moving away from me while the rest moved toward me. I lost my balance, and almost my lunch.”

“Which I’m guessing was a lot?”

“Yeah it was.” Tasia patted her belly. “I’m actually full right now. They cooked an extra pig for me.”

Dana looked up at the mechanism, then over at the telescope. “Think you can still help without looking up?” she asked.

Tasia experimentally stared at the ceiling, then looked at the telescope. “As long as I don’t focus on it directly, we should be okay,” she said. “The telescope doesn’t bother me. It’s just the mechanism.”

“I’ll look into some sort of cover for it.” There were already some crossbeams that she and Tink could fit with aluminum plating. They had decided long ago that Grace would eventually find her way in here, and didn’t need the Arachne getting caught in the mechanism. That would probably take a day or two, which Tink was more than happy to help with. The goblin preferred projects that required creative approaches that involved lots of hammering.

Dana had Tasia stand beneath the telescope, then used the pulley system of chains to lower the support mechanism into the werewolf’s hands.

“Can you hold its weight for a few seconds?” she asked.

“Of course,” Tasia grunted, sweat breaking out on her brow.

Dana undid the final safety mechanism, then ran over to Tasia and helped guide her toward the arms hanging from the ceiling. Once the support bracket was in place, the zombie used an air ratchet to tighten the bolts into place.

“Can I let go yet?” Tasia asked.

“No.” Dana scrambled up on top of the telescope, then ran up the side of the cylinder to where a couple of metal loops had been installed. She pulled the chains back up, all while Tasia held the system in place from below. Dana looped those chains through a separate pulley system, then tossed the chains down.

“In just a second, I’ll need you to pull on those,” she said, then pulled herself into the mechanism. Leaning over the edge of a steel beam, she hooked her fingers into the closest loop. “Okay, go!”

Tasia let go of her end of the telescope, and several hundred pounds tried to yank Dana out of her spot. Her biceps flexed as she held the telescope in place long enough for Tasia to pull on the chains and stabilize the whole system.

“Pull,” Dana commanded as she moved through the ceiling and guided the rest of the telescope into its mount. She rammed in a few pins the length and thickness of her forearm, effectively locking the telescope into place. After double-checking that the whole thing was secure, she jumped out of the ceiling and landed in a crouch.

“We’re good,” she said, then stood back to take it in.

The telescope’s body pointed through a hole that had been triple enchanted to prevent anyone under the age of twenty from casually slipping through it. The world on the other side of the observatory somehow had enough air to breathe, but very few other features. Dana suspected it was an incredibly distant moon, but none of that mattered. The device was now functional.

“How does it work?” Tasia asked, moving to the control system that was along the wall. “I’m surprised you didn't put in some sort of computerized system.”

“Keeping it manual for now.” Dana moved to the large metallic wheel on the control system. “This already has so many moving parts, I don’t need software issues fucking up my day.” She grabbed the wheel and turned it.

“Speaking of your day–” Tasia’s words were lost as she stared in awe at the telescope. The gears up above whirred, but the telescope remained stationary. Instead, it was the sky outside of the observatory that moved.

Dana messed with some other settings just to make sure Tasia knew she wasn’t seeing things. Eventually, the werewolf just stared at her.

“How?” she asked.

“How indeed.” Dana grinned. “It’s like magic, but nothing here is enchanted. Well, not like that. Ratu helped with some basic protections and all. But yeah. It’s technically the outside of the telescope that moves, on that other world. Here, things stay the same.”

“Is that why all of that is so… eerie?” Tasia pointed up at the gearing mechanism.

“It’s likely. It would also explain why it took so long to figure out. I always assumed I would be moving the telescope along with the dome. It all just clicked when… well… you know.”

“I do.” Tasia smiled at the strange sky through the gap in the roof. “When you become whole again.”

The words felt almost like a physical blow. Dana never really thought of herself as whole, there was too much wrong with her. She had reclaimed bits of herself, sure, but she wasn’t the woman she used to be.

At the same time, things had changed. Maybe she needed to stop comparing herself to the broken-hearted girl she had been and start thinking about the person she had become.

“So are we going to look through it?” Tasia moved toward the eyepiece. “What do you think we’ll see?”

“No idea.” Dana shrugged. “Honestly, the real challenge was rebuilding it. I don’t really care about what I might see.”

Tasia laughed. “You’re not even going to look?”

“I’ve got better things to look at right now.” Dana appraised Tasia. “There’s a heavenly body I’m eager to explore.”

“Oh! I almost forgot!” Tasia ran out of the main room and into the living space that was essentially their apartment. She came back holding a box. “I had a project of my own that I was planning to give you once this was done.”

“What is it?” Dana noticed that the box was wrapped in Christmas paper. “How long have you had this?”

“For a bit,” Tasia admitted. “I thought you were going to be done not long after the holidays, so I’ve just been keeping it under wraps.”

“If that was a deliberate pun, good job.” Dana took the box and gave it a gentle shake. “It’s heavy.”

Tasia nodded. “Open it.”

Dana ripped the paper off the package. It was a fancy wooden box, held shut by a clasp. She moved to the closest table and set it down. After undoing the latch, she opened the box to reveal a satin interior. Nestled in the case was a rather large dildo with multiple ridges down its length. Whistling at the sheer size of the thing, Dana pulled it out and held it in both hands.

“This thing is seriously impressive.”

Tasia nodded enthusiastically. “It was a team effort, actually. Lily gave me the idea during one of our girls’ nights. Beth had all sorts of pointers for me. Ingrid did a bunch of research to get the shape just right.”

“Did you all have Tink make it?” Dana gave it a shake. The thing was heavy.

“Nope.” A mischievous glint appeared in Tasia’s eyes. “Holly.”

“Why ask the elves to—” Suddenly, Dana understood. “No.”

“Yes.” Tasia picked the thing up and pointed to the flat circle where the suction cup would be. “A bigger, better version of the ones she made for Christmas a couple years ago.”

Stunned, Dana took the dildo back. A couple of years ago, Holly had gifted the house some realistic dildos that not only magically attached to any surface, but also to any part of the body that had enough room. For the wearer, it felt like the dick was somehow their own.

To say these toys were misused was an understatement. Sure, some actually got to see some use in the bedroom for all involved parties. Dana and Tasia had accidentally broken theirs on the first try after getting too feisty.

But soon they became involved in pranks. Tink liked to sneak up on people and attach the magic dildos to them, and then slap the head. This became an ongoing war between a few members of the house who tried to dick-flick each other. The magic on one of the dildos malfunctioned, causing it to go off the moment it was attached, which even Dana could admit was a bit hilarious.

Then they suddenly disappeared. Beth openly admitted to stealing and hiding three for herself. The others denied any knowledge of the remainder’s whereabouts, which made Dana think that they were being kept for personal use. If she had to guess who the culprits might be, Ratu was high on the list, as well as Abella. Maybe Amymone, though she was never seen doing anything other than reading.

Zel was another likely culprit. The centaur seemed like the kind to keep something like that in her yurt.

As for the magical cocks themselves, apparently they were a huge hit at the North Pole, so much that Holly had been forced to highly regulate their distribution. The elves had apparently dipped so hard into their own supply that several weeks of work had been lost.

“How did you convince Holly to make it?” Dana asked.

“Special occasion,” Tasia replied. “Also, personal challenge. It’s modeled after an actual werewolf cock, then embellished for artistic reasons.”

“Wow.” A little stunned, Dana took the dildo back and stuck it to the wall where it hung erect. “How sturdy is it?”

“That would be the other part of the personal challenge. It’s sturdy enough that Abella was able to do pull-ups on it.”

“You didn’t let the others do stuff with it, did you?”

Tasia scoffed. “Of course not! Even though they begged. This is just for us.”

Dana licked her lips. “Who’s getting it first?” she asked.

“It’s your present. You decide.”

The zombie licked her lips again and stared at the apparatus. She and Tasia didn’t typically use toys because they either broke them or they simply didn’t do the trick.

However, the magical cocks from the North Pole were completely different. Not only was the sensation of having a cock extremely unique, but it opened up so many possibilities. Dana had actually asked Holly once if the elves had considered making a magically attachable clitoris, and had been immediately told that nobody on Earth was ready for that kind of power.

The zombie suspected that maybe Holly had a couple of prototypes she was keeping for herself. She and Lily had discussed a North Pole heist more than once, but couldn’t figure out how to sneak in without getting busted by Santa.

“I want to use it on you first,” Dana said.

Tasia shifted the straps of her sundress to the side, causing them to slide down her arms. “Where do you want me?” she asked, breathing heavily.

Dana grabbed her girlfriend and pinned her up against the wall. “Right here for now,” she declared, then kissed Tasia hard. The werewolf growled in response, her hands sliding up Dana’s stomach and underneath her shirt. The two of them made out for several minutes like this before Dana made Tasia face the wall.

From behind, Dana slid her fingers through the waistband of Tasia’s panties and pulled them down. “Dress stays on,” she commanded.

“As you wish.”

Kneeling on the floor, Dana lifted Tasia’s skirt and had the werewolf bend forward, allowing her to lick the werewolf’s hairy, very damp folds. Tasia moaned and reached back to grab the top of Dana’s head.

“Yes, just like that,” Tasia growled. She tangled her fingers in Dana’s hair, effectively pinning her in place.

Dana feasted. There was no delicate approach when it came to Tasia, no subtle buildup. Her tongue teased at the werewolf’s clitoris, then dipped between her folds and expertly danced along the sensitive flesh within. Tasia shuddered, but continued to hold Dana in place.

Arousal was still a weird thing for the zombie now that it came on its own. It would just sit in the back of her mind, waiting to be told when it was okay to be activated. Dana did so now, and felt her whole lower half go tight from anticipation. She managed to squirm out of her pants, then fought her way free of Tasia.

“Arch your back more,” she said, then removed the dick from the wall. It was purple and white, the colors expertly swirled in a fashion that made the dildo look like it was made from marble. Dana stuck it in place right on top of her trimmed pubic hair and felt a lurch as her consciousness expanded to include the foreign appendage.

“Holy fuck,” she whispered as it flexed. It was almost like her clitoris had expanded by a hundred times, and just the sensation of gravity pulling down on it was enough to overwhelm her.

“How is it?” Tasia asked, then looked over her shoulder. She smiled and wiggled her butt. “I’ve been so tempted to at least try it on, but wanted you to be around for it.”

“It’s weird,” Dana admitted, then flexed her cock and smacked the head of it along Tasia’s buttcrack. The sensation made her shiver in delight. “But in a good way.”

“Give it to me,” Tasia whispered, then reached back to grab her buttcheeks and pull them apart. “Don’t worry, I won’t break.”

“I know you won’t.” Dana positioned the head of her cock between Tasia’s labia and moaned at the sensation of those wet, silken folds along her glans. The head alone was thick enough to make her pause. “We probably need lube.”

“Self-lubricating,” Tasia replied. “Replenishes itself with bodily fluids and is very slippery.”

“I guess there’s nothing else to say but this.” Dana grabbed Tasia by her hair and pulled, forcing her girlfriend’s head to tilt back. “Take it, bitch.”

Tasia groaned as Dana pressed herself forward. The zombie had to pause for a moment at the sensation, more than a little surprised that just the act of sliding in had taken her nearly to the edge. To be fair, it wasn’t like she was used to having a dick.

“More,” Tasia growled, so Dana took a couple of deep breaths and continued. The base of her cock was thick enough that it looked like Tasia might split at any moment, but they took their time. Eventually, Dana was buried deep inside her girlfriend, panting with excitement.

“Fuck, that’s so deep,” Tasia muttered. Her voice dropped an octave. “Now fuck me properly.”

Dana obeyed. She wasn’t able to do a fast pace by any means; the angle was wrong and she didn’t have enough room. But the slow rhythm she established did the trick. Tasia growled as she dug her nails into the wall, and hair sprouted all along her body as her transformation began.

“Oh, so you’re really into it,” Dana muttered. Tasia didn’t often transform during sex unless she lost control.

Tasia didn’t respond. Instead, she continued to growl, so Dana fucked her. It wasn’t long until the sensation overwhelmed her and Dana felt fire in her belly as her magical cock flexed and then fired lightning through her pelvis. Groaning, Dana leaned forward and came inside of Tasia.

“Wait…for…it,” Tasia growled.

“Wait for—” Dana suddenly felt light-headed as her cock swelled at the base, locking her in place inside of Tasia. Staring down, she realized that the cock had transformed. “Is that—”

“The knot!” Tasia giggled, which sounded a little funny from the werewolf, then moaned. “Now keep going while it’s inside.”

Dana continued to pound Tasia from behind, marveling at the sheer tightness she now experienced. Her girlfriend’s transformation was now complete, and the werewolf howled when she came. Dana, her stamina inexhaustible, kept going, stopping only two other times when an orgasm struck. Eventually, Tasia started swatting backward in an attempt to communicate.

“E…enough,” she begged, the fur on her body receding. “It’s…I want…”

Dana smirked, and pulled herself out. The knot made a loud schlorping sound when it popped free, and Tasia let out a groan and slid to the floor. Dana joined her girlfriend and just held her while she recovered. Eventually, Tasia kissed her, then made a valiant effort to give Dana a blowjob, which didn’t work too well. Tasia’s mouth wasn’t big enough.

“My turn,” she finally declared, and Dana handed the magical dildo over. She stood and braced herself against the wall, her nose positively overwhelmed by the scent of their lovemaking.

She pressed her forehead against the wall and took deep breaths as the cock slid into her from behind. Unlike before, the knot was still present, and it teased her mercilessly, pressing against swollen labia that couldn’t quite part enough to allow it in.

Dana loved her life. She loved the crazy things she got to experience, the home she had found, and the woman she had fallen for. In this moment, if someone were to ask, she would say that nothing needed to change at all.

All thoughts of the cure and the future fled Dana’s mind as her whole body shook. The knot was getting closer and closer to the point of no return, and she forced herself to relax. Behind her, Tasia was already groaning, on the edge of an orgasm of her own.

Eventually, the knot slipped through, and the cock leapt forward, stretching Dana further than she could ever remember. The zombie let out a scream, and promptly ripped one of the bricks out of the wall by accident.

This was her life, even if she wasn’t alive. The cure could wait.

---

The trio stood in the doorway, staring into the room beyond. Nobody had said a word for several minutes, and the silence had become noticeable, save for the hiccup-like sobs from Peyton’s mother.

Peyton was the first one to step inside. She moved to the center of the room and took two deep, cleansing breaths. Behind her, she could hear her parents shuffle inside.

“I don’t know–” was all her mother managed before the woman started crying again.

Peyton understood that this was hard for her mom, doubly so due to the pregnancy. The room was an emotional minefield on the best of days.

“We need to do it,” Peyton said. She turned to her father to make sure that he was still on board. The man had the stone face of a soldier going to war.

“Yes, but…” Her mother’s lips trembled as she stared at the empty bed, the blankets and pillows made for a child who would never come home.

“It’s time.” Peyton’s dad put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it with reassurance.

It felt like the world was about to cave in. Rather than break beneath the pressure, Peyton moved to Reagan’s bed and yanked the comforter off in one fell swoop.

“We should wash this,” she said as she wadded it up and tossed it near the door.

Her mother broke into tears and left. Peyton looked at her father, who just shook his head.

“I’ll go take care of her,” he said. “It may be better if we do some of this without her. I’ll be right back.”

Peyton nodded, then got to work. By the time she had stripped the bed and sorted through Reagan’s clothes, choosing to keep some while donating others, her father had returned. He picked up the comforter and sheets, then held them to his nose and inhaled deeply.

“They don’t smell like her anymore.” He smiled sadly at his daughter. “Or if they do, I’ve… forgotten what it’s like.”

The dam inside of Peyton bowed heavily under her father’s words, but did not break. Part of her wanted to lean on her anger, to remind her father that the only smell she associated with Reagan was hand-sanitizer. Another part of her demanded that she quit, and immediately remake her sister’s bed and leave.

“This place isn’t her, Dad.” She picked up one of Regan’s hoodies that had a very faint floral scent and held it to her father. “This one still smells like her, I think.”

He took the hoodie and sniffed it, then let out a sad laugh. After unfolding the hoodie, he just shook his head. “She never even wore this one. I think this is just the fabric softener smell.”

“Oh.” Peyton just shrugged, then took it back. “I guess we won’t need to wash it again.”

“I guess not.” Her father left with the bedding and came back a few minutes later in a different shirt entirely. She could tell he had been crying by the redness of his eyes, but chose to say nothing.

Her mother finally reappeared long enough to take one step into the room and start sobbing. Her husband led her away with an apologetic look. Peyton let out a sigh, then looked at her phone.

“Maybe I should have asked Lily to help,” she muttered.

When her dad returned this time, it was to help her move the boxes she had sorted. She moved to take down one of Reagan’s pictures, but her dad stopped her.

“Let’s do this with your mom,” was all he said.

The two of them cleaned out the closet, freeing up space for Peyton’s clothes, which they hung up alongside some of Reagan’s.

Peyton paused to study a ratty sweater that hung on the closet hook. It had been Reagan’s favorite, one she often wore while drawing at her desk. There were ink stains along the end of each sleeve.

“I wish I could stop growing,” she said.

“Why is that?” her father asked, then saw her touching the sweater.

She shrugged. “I want to wear this forever. But someday… I’ll be too big.”

“Then we can make it into a blanket,” whispered her mother from the door. The woman was clutching a handful of tissues that she had partially torn apart.

“Honey—” her father said.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, then looked at Peyton. “I want… need to help. I need to help. Please?”

Peyton nodded, then went back to work. By the time the closet was ready, her mother had sadly pulled down most of Reagan’s art, each piece laid carefully atop each other on the edge of the bed.

“Do you remember when she did this one?” her mother asked, then showed it to her husband.

“I don’t,” he admitted. “With everything that happened… there are a lot of things I forgot.”

“It’s okay,” her mom whispered. “I can remember for the both of us.”

“We need to get some frames,” Peyton said. “I want to keep a couple of them in here. And we should put the rainbow one in the nursery.”

“This one?” Her mother held up the piece. It was a colored pencil drawing of a rainbow fading over a dandelion. Reagan had lain on her stomach in the front yard, immortalizing the flower as a piece of still art.

“Yeah. I think the baby will love it.” Peyton looked at Reagan’s desk and took a deep breath. “I don't think I’m ready for this.”

Her mom moved toward the desk and opened the drawer. “Then let me be ready for you,” she whispered.

It took over two hours to clean out Regan’s desk. Unopened supplies were put into the donation pile, save for a couple of things Peyton could use. The rest were saved for the small memorial shelf they had assembled earlier this week down in the living room. It was currently empty, save for a picture of her sister that they had picked out.

Over those two hours, they each took turns crying while leaning on the others for support. At some point, her mother opened the windows, allowing a soft breeze to blow through and freshen the room. Piece by piece, traces of Reagan were finally put to rest.

They took a break to eat dinner in silence, each one alone with their thoughts. Once finished, they walked back upstairs together. This time, they went into Peyton’s room to get her stuff.

The solution had been obvious once Peyton had suggested it. Reagan’s room would become hers, while Peyton’s room would become the nursery. That way, Peyton could keep some of Reagan’s room the same.

Of course, this had meant there wasn’t space for everything. She was more than happy to part with her old bed, choosing to keep her sister’s furniture instead. Some of her old toys had already been boxed up for storage, most likely to sit for several years before being donated or used by the new baby.

The same had been true for a bunch of her stuffed animals. Peyton was at that age where she didn’t need them anymore, but there were a couple she simply couldn’t part with. Those were placed in the windowsill of her new room, waiting to take their place on her bed once it was made.

The bed was made with new sheets and Peyton’s blanket. To complete her changes for now, Peyton added some pictures. As the room neared completion, Peyton realized that the oppressive silence that seemed to exist in here was finally gone. She no longer felt afraid to speak too loudly, or touch the drawers of the desk.

It didn’t feel like her room yet, but that would come in time.

Her mother walked in with the now-clean comforter, and they made the bed together in silence. Once finished, they all looked around as if appraising the space.

“I’m never going to stop missing her.” Peyton’s mom wiped at her eyes, which were shiny once again with tears. “A mom never forgets.”

“Nor a father.” Peyton’s dad sniffed and put his arm around the other two and held them close. He ruffled Peyton’s hair. “Or a sister.”

Peyton sniffled, then stepped away from her dad. “You stink,” she said, hoping to release the tension in the moment.

He lifted his arm and took a deep breath. “Yeah, I do.” He pretended to waft it in Peyton’s direction. “But you like it.” Her father reached out and attempted to put her in a headlock.

“Gross, no I don’t.” She playfully swatted his hand away and laughed, then caught herself. Was it okay to laugh in here?

She decided it was. By the look on her father’s face, he had just come to the same realization.

“I think we all stink.” Peyton’s mom wrinkled her nose. “You both smell like bad soup. A hot shower sounds really good right now.” She gave the room one more look, then moved toward the door, her hand resting on her still flat belly.

“You okay in here?” her dad asked once her mother was gone.

“Yeah.” Peyton nodded and meant it. “You should go check on her.”

He nodded and then left. Peyton pushed the door shut and looked around the room. She pulled out her phone and took a quick selfie, which she sent to Lily.

New digs, she typed, then tossed the phone on her bed and cried.

The tears didn’t last long, and a heavy exhaustion settled over her. They had been at this all day, and she felt like every part of her had been stretched and wrung out. She changed into one of Reagan’s old t-shirts and crawled into bed, intending to watch Instagram reels for a while, or argue with people on Reddit.

She didn’t make it long. Yawning, she grabbed the purple teddy bear that Reagan had given her five years ago and clutched it tight to her chest.

Drifting off, she was briefly awoken by the realization that she had once again forgotten to brush her teeth. Peyton licked her teeth and decided they were clean enough. She was very comfortable right now, and she knew it would take forever to get comfy again if she got out of bed.

Peyton let her thoughts wander, hoping that tonight would bring dreams of Reagan, or something equally comforting. In the dark of her new room, she heard the house settle as if someone was walking across the room.

She didn’t bother opening her eyes. The family had just cleaned the whole place out, after all. The last thing she wanted was to get all worked up by something that wasn’t there.

Her imagination growled at her in an attempt to get her attention. She heard something move under her bed.

“People are trying to sleep here,” she muttered at the monster under her bed. “So shut the fuck up.”

The room went silent, and she fell asleep.

---