Errod leaned on the twine-wrapped railing, looking across the water at some mangroves. "So the fish are real," he said, "and the trees are fake, and the little boars are real but stuffed, and the ducks are unlimited."

"So the giant sign says," I replied, "but I haven't seen many ducks. I saw a stuffed turkey over there, though."

"I don't know what a turkey is," he said, "but... okay, so to start at the beginning - tell me if I'm misunderstanding your explanation. There was a mighty kingdom, and its capitol, founded more than five thousand ridiculous Earth years ago - I don't know how many proper years that would be, but still quite a lot - was the largest city in the world. They built massive monuments to house their dead rulers, but eventually the empire declined and the city was abandoned more than a thousand years ago.

"And then, two hundred years ago, this city was founded and named after it. Later still, to further pay tribute to that ancient kingdom, the people of this new city built a replica of one of the great monuments; but rather than a dead king, it contains a fake swamp, and a restaurant, and clothes, and fishing supplies." He turned to look at me, face covered in a mask of mock seriousness. "Do I have that all right?"

I nodded, also trying to look serious. "That about sums it up, yeah. So now, when you return to your world and people ask what wonders you saw on the magic-less planet humanity came from, you can tell them you visited the Bass Pro Shops pyramid in Memphis, Tennessee. They'll be so, so jealous."

This hadn't been a planned stop, but you could hardly miss a three hundred and twenty foot-tall glass pyramid standing proudly right next to the highway. Well, actually, to be totally fair, I hadn't seen it until the last possible second and had almost gotten us into a car accident swerving into the exit lane. If I'd missed that, we would have had to cross the Mississippi into Arkansas before being able to turn around, and that would have felt silly.

Also, I needed a fucking break. We'd been on the road for about eight hours, only one hour of which was taken up by things like stopping for gas and bathroom breaks. Seven hours at the wheel, with nobody else taking a turn - worse, with everyone else having a nice time in the back of our shuttle bus. I was regretting getting a vehicle where nobody could sit next to me and keep me company. I'd never driven much, mainly because I didn't have a car before; I'd taken a driver's ed class where we drove a school vehicle around, and I borrowed people's cars a few times just to go to the store for snacks. But hours at a time? I was not prepared for that.

I was also getting increasingly nervous about being pulled over. I was pretty sure the prior owner was supposed to have kept the license plate, and we didn't have insurance, and I was almost certainly supposed to have a commercial drivers' license, and... yeah. The point was, stopping at this ridiculous landmark was a good way to unwind.

We'd dedicated some time to actual planning for when we arrived in Arizona, and everyone had voted for immediately charging in and attacking the self-storage place. Well, okay, not everyone. Grunkle had voted for hitting a casino, and Matlyn had deferred to whatever Zoey wanted to do - I'd half expected her to instead give her vote to Errod, the way she'd been practically sitting in his lap.

Not that I minded - I wasn't romantically interested in Errod even if he had gotten into pretty respectable shape in the last few months; he'd slotted very easily into the "brother" category, and I was enjoying that. Also, even if any part of me had been interested, I was aware that would have been purely out of boredom and convenience; we weren't remotely compatible.

Still, in the same way I'd been suspicious of Lute I had little twinges of... maybe jealousy, maybe something else... when I watched Matlyn flirt with him. As far as I could tell through some serious self-reflection, it was some combination of not being able to relate to that kind of infatuation and therefore finding it inherently suspect, and a little bit of worrying that someone else was trying to steal my friends.

That second part wasn't particularly mature of me, but even recognizing that didn't make it go away.

I did like Matlyn though - she was easy to like - and so I could already feel myself loosening up about it. Maybe I would have also liked Lute more if we'd spent more time together; Katrin wasn't a dummy, if she liked the guy there was good reason. And he'd helped us some, and put up with not being fully informed, and... yeah, I was almost certainly going to have to force myself to like him.

Speaking of relationship stuff, the other hanging issue was what to do about Bill. I'd thought he was a great guy, and someone who cared about me, and someone who... wanted to be family. But then I found out he knew I was a Sahrger and didn't tell me, and probably helped Greg mess with my memories. Except even if that was the case, that was all before the other shit went down. He'd adopted me - in spirit if not in a legal sense - after all that, and he'd warned me to some extent about Coelestis.

What if he was just some Coelestis goon for a while, quit, and then was being manipulated by Greg? Except... he brought Greg food, and helped him around the storage place. Although... it was possible that was mind bullshit too. Greg could have made him think they were old friends, or made him forget all sorts of things. If Bill could be on our side, it was possibly a good idea to talk to him before we made our move.

I thought about it for the next few hours as I drove, and by the time we stopped in some place called Russellville for dinner I'd resolved to try and look into it more. I was too wiped out to drive much further and the towns just got smaller and smaller, so we stayed there after we ate and while the others went out to explore the wonders of a random town in Arkansas I sat in our dingy motel room and tried to recover the memory of what the fuck happened right before Bill had quit being a case manager.

I had already found the memory of him taking me to the proposed foster parent, and me being unable to enter thanks to - presumably - a horseshoe over the door. She had to have been kinda witchy to have imbued actual intent into it, and for a moment I found myself thinking that Bill had probably been right that I would have liked her. Whatever I was about to find out about him, he had been trying to do right by me.

We got in the car, and started driving. Almost immediately, it wasn't like I remembered. I remembered Bill being calm and cheerful, and taking me to a little diner to cheer me up. Instead, he was... nervous. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel, and there was a strange expression on his face.

Younger me clocked it, but I was pretty sure I interpreted it as him being mad at me. That... wasn't it. Something was going on. We turned, not back towards the group home, and after a few blocks I finally asked where we were going.

"There's somewhere I have to take you," he said, "I don't... know how to explain. What's your earliest memory, kiddo?"

I frowned, and for a minute I thought younger me wasn't going to answer. But then, quietly, I said, "I was lost in the woods, and I couldn't find my mom. And then... she found me, and she was smiling, and she was so happy to see me."

He nodded. "And this was... this was the mom you grew up with?" I stared at him, confused, and he clearly took that for a yes. "Then she tried to leave you," he muttered to himself, "trying to... what, make them switch back? Ridiculous."

We stopped at a red light, but when it turned green he just stayed there, staring at nothing. A car behind us honked, and then finally pulled around us while flipping us off. The light turned red again. "Bill? Is... is everything okay?"

"It's going to be," he said, "but I'm trying to... you know we had that talk about me being a mandated reporter?"

"Sure, like if I tell you I gave my math teacher a blowie during recess you have to tell someone else about it."

"I - sure." Any other day he would have taken issue with how I'd said that. Hell, I'd probably said it that way just to get a rise out of him. "Well, there's... I'm... I'm required to report certain types of things. To... take... to..."

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

The steering wheel creaked, and his knuckles popped. A vein was sticking out the side of his head, but he was still speaking calmly and staring ahead at nothing as the light turned green again and he still didn't move. Slowly, as if fighting through molasses, he reached down with one hand and hit the button to unlock the car doors.

I stared at the door, unable to comprehend what was happening. Looking back the message was clear to present me: run. Get the fuck out of the car and run. And if it had been anyone else, anyone in the world, I would have done it. But Bill? He was solid. He was the one trustworthy person I knew. Also, I was probably trying to decide if it was some sort of trap.

After a moment another car came up behind us, honking, and Bill started driving again. He was silent the rest of the way to the self-storage place, and then he got out and went inside. He left his door hanging open, and didn't tell me to follow him. After a minute or two I got out of the car, and looked all around trying to figure out where we were. Right by Grand Avenue, it looked like - there were only a couple roads that cut diagonally across the grid - but that didn't narrow it down much.

It was obvious I was about to run away, I was just trying to decide which direction to go in. I took a few steps, then looked back towards the self-storage place. A few more steps, and then look back. I was dying of curiosity. What the fuck had gotten into him? I shook my head, and turned to start walking again - but Greg was standing in front of me. I hadn't seen him a second ago when I'd been facing that way.

"Come inside," he said, "and we'll get you a snack." He gestured towards the building, and I tried to kick him in the balls. Good instincts. Greg blocked with one leg, and grabbed my wrist before dragging me to the door. I didn't fight after that, which was pretty standard procedure; the next step would be to act submissive until they let their guard down.

Instead... things got all wavy. Floaty. It was like I was high, and I let Greg guide me to a chair and sit me down. "I'll have to prepare one of the specimen tanks," he said, and I nodded a little like that was the most normal thing a person could have said.

"She's a person," Bill said, fists clenched at his sides, "a child. You can't just add her to your collection."

Greg scoffed. "She's a Sahrger, William. They're pests. She has some mana in her, as well - without being near a breach point or having a battery I don't know where she's getting it from, not at her age, but it means over time she should be able to potentially curse people. It's irresponsible to leave her out in the world."

"I'll take full responsibility. She's - she's a good kid. Or... she's trying to be. I can see it. Hell, it's even more impressive knowing she's a Sahrger."

Greg tilted his head, smiling. "Ah, I am afraid your contract was quite clear. You find things of interest, and you deliver them to me."

"She's not a thing," Bill said.

"She meets the definition in the contract," Greg said, "and you know that or you wouldn't have brought her to me. Besides, she's a danger to everyone. Child of two worlds, and all that. Unlikely she'd meet any other criteria, but that alone is too much of a risk. No, the best thing would be for me to kill her and store her body."

Bill pulled out a knife and flicked it open. It wasn't a combat knife, or a magical blade, or anything like that. It was the kind of thing guys often carried and only used as a box cutter. Still, it would be plenty to stab a bitch to death with. Greg just raised an eyebrow at it, but Bill was breathing heavily and looked dangerously focused. "You're not going to hurt her."

Greg, unconcerned, stepped closer and smiled even wider than before. "That's what you said about your family, William, and I agreed. And so I have not. But that was part of a deal, whereas this girl... she is nothing. Would you like to make a new deal, and include her? I could be persuaded. Maybe I could make you come back to work for me full time, eh? Wear the pin again?"

"Consider for a moment," Bill said, "what it would mean to have me truly angry at you. Think about that, Greg. When you decided to be petty and make me agree to shut down my humanitarian efforts, I wasn't happy with you. But if you think that was me angry, you're mistaken. That was me annoyed, frustrated. Disappointed."

Greg nodded. "Ah, I see. And your rage, that would be worse? I allowed you to continue doing things for the poor, huddled masses - just on a local level. You can feed the homeless, clothe the wretched. Whatever makes you happy. I simply decided that you would not be allowed to operate at a national or global level, since you would deprive me of the same. This is how the game is played, William. You hinder me, I hinder you. And now, you have kindly given me a bargaining chip."

Bill sighed. "She's a minor concern, and you know it. What I'm saying to you is that it's not worth making more of an enemy of me. All things considered, I've cooperated with you quite well over the years. I've filled that vault of yours. You can't find these things on your own, Greg - well, you could if you wanted to, but you've made it clear you're not willing." He stepped forward, so they were pressed right up against each other. "But I think you're missing the biggest problem."

"I will humor you, then. What is this problem you think I'm missing, boy?"

"You laugh at me pulling out a knife," Bill said, "because you think I can't hurt you. Have you considered that you're fighting against fate? I don't need to stab you, Greg. I just need to stand here with a knife, and wait for you to slip on a banana peel. And I can do that all day. I can spend all my time near you, carrying dangerous objects. It might take a while, but sooner or later your number will come up."

Greg stepped back, and looked down at the knife thoughtfully. "I see. An interesting gambit... I don't think it would work out the way you hope, but... I suspect you're actually gambling on me not being willing to take even the slimmest chance that you're correct."

"For something like this? Some Sahrger kid that has clearly lost contact with her handlers? Why would you? Look. I'll keep tabs on her, make sure she doesn't show signs of causing any trouble. You can... you can make her forget this conversation, she's already zoned out. It's a recent memory, and less than an hour long. There's no real risk of snapback."

Greg sighed. "And I would have to trust that you would keep the knives away?"

"Yeah," Bill said, "the way I have this whole time, even when I've wanted to strangle you."

There was a long moment of silence, and then Greg waved Bill away. "Bah! Fine, fine. This one time. A cover memory would be easiest. Something close to what happened, of course."

Bill snapped the knife shut and slid it into his pocket. "Leave the part about her not wanting to go into the foster home, that's tied to childhood stuff that you won't want to get tangled in. I acted strangely in the car, you'll want to smooth that over, and then... I'll run across the street to Wendy's, grab us some food she can eat while you prepare. Have her remember eating, you can be... I don't know, a waiter at a diner or something."

"Fine, fine. Go get the food."

Greg looked at me, scowled, and then snapped his fingers - and the memory ended. Okay so... Bill hadn't really wanted to take me to see Greg, but was forced by some sort of oath; that wasn't surprising, we'd already learned that Greg leaned on oaths for the Coelestis people. I'd confirmed that Bill knew about magic, which I'd assumed, and that he knew who Greg was - I hadn't been as sure about that. He was comfortable with talking about what did and didn't work for memory replacement, so he'd been around when that was done before. What else had I learned?

There were a lot of fragments in there, little pieces of the puzzle. It was tempting to try and shove them into place, but I'd already been wrong about a few things and I was starting to think I shouldn't make assumptions until it mattered. I had ideas, theories, but... none of them changed what we were planning on doing next. The only real question was whether or not we should try to contact Bill, and despite this memory being far from the worst case scenario it was still a resounding no.

He had too many secrets, for one thing, but even if I was willing to set that aside I would have to worry about some programmed response from an oath. This, of course, made me think about the other memory - the one in Universal Servicing Systems. Was there a chance that the masked man was Bill? The conversation topics had a lot in common, but that still didn't feel right to me. Bill was clearly done with Coelestis, and he'd thought it was shut down. He was still handing over magic shit he found to Greg, sure, but that wasn't the same as being some sort of armored enforcer.

If I could get eyes on Bill, it would confirm he was still on Earth and not running around in Brinkmar or wherever. But I still didn't want to risk letting him know I was around, so... it had to just go on the list of things to think about, and only attempt if I could find a way to feel totally safe about it. Maybe I could have someone else stake out his place, someone unrelated. I didn't know a lot of people, certainly not people that I could trust with something like that.

I did know a friendly drug dealer, though. Tony was a good guy, and streetwise enough to keep himself safe, and money-oriented enough to happily do strange jobs for untraceable gold. The only problem was that I didn't know how to contact him. I started sorting through memories of him, but it was slow going - as with my other Earth memories, I had a context problem. Searching through every time I ever spoke with Tony would take ages, and I couldn't figure out how to just jump to the bits I wanted unless I already remembered and therefore didn't need to.

Normally I'd be able to work all night, but with the strange connection from Earth taking extra focus, I eventually had to give up and let my grip on Ematse slip. In the end, I'd found enough to be pretty sure what neighborhood he'd lived in... but that was what, five years ago at this point? Still, it wouldn't hurt for me to ask around a little when we got to Phoenix. We had about eighteen hours of driving left, not counting rest stops, which meant two days on the road.

"Enjoy it Greg," I said to myself, "you've got a little more than two days left to live."

Next chapter will be updated first on this website. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.