"Reality? To me that was reality. I don't know about this place. What makes you certain you won't find yourself tied here, trying to explain yourself to people who look like you? I was pretty sure that was reality. Now, well now I just don't care. This is all a dream, so do whatever you want to me. I'm not kissing the cross. Just light the pyre." Shawna told the nogs. They shuffled forward on their trunklike legs, one of them offering her a cross with a figure of a crucified nog with a golden crown and its lips puckered.

"I said I'm not kissing it. Burn me." Shawna grimaced at the horrid little nog. The nogs shrugged in unison and lifted the buckets of icy cold water at their feet. One by one they walked up to her and doused her in cold water, soaking her t-shirt and hair and making her shiver and blow water off her lips while the rest ran down her chin.

"Is she dead?" One of the nog asked.

One of them shuffled forward and waved its hands back and forth in front of her staring, lifeless eyes. "No reaction." the nog confirmed. They'd done it, they'd finally slain the Wicked Witch of the Stars. Some of the Ethgar were saddened, crying big sticky nog tears that left streaks on their faces.

Shawna held perfectly still, trying not to laugh. They really thought she was dead, they thought they'd burned her alive with their buckets of cold water. Stupid nogs, just a few moments longer and she could break free from their braided bonds and be on her way, richer than John Godson.

"I just worry her soul wont reach the Likeliness, We should hold the jesus-nog to her lips, just to be sure." A nasty little Ethgar suggested.

"We should all just shuffle off." Shawna tried some ventriloquism.

"Who said that?" Ethgar were asking each other. The nogs suddenly all looked back at Shawna, their little devil eyes glowing in the starlight.

"Oh fiddle cakes!" Shawna swore.

She didn't usually use such foul language, but she was at her wits end with the Ethgar. First, their ridiculous test of faith to learn about Red Raven, and the treasure of the Seven Wonders. Then she had to climb Mount Velvet while nogs slung biffy sludge from their blow tubes while singing insults to her. With her knuckles bloodied and fitz in her hair, she'd reached the summit only to be accused of heresy, for she'd forgotten to remove her shoes. She'd have to climb the whole mountain again, just as penance.

After the six recitals of the Bindinfingin's half a dozen holy books, the extinct lizards granted her a one-hour library pass in their sacred underground grottos. Was it enough time to memorize enough of their holy scripture to be able to compete in the junior nog bible quotation contest and become a wearer of the golden crown of the most kissable-crucifiable? It was, because Shawna really applied herself and memorized no fewer than three verses, which was two more than any junior nog had ever quoted. With the golden crown on her head, she could at last learn the last part of the legend of Red Raven, and find out where the treasure was hidden.

Wealth unimaginable, seven wonders, that's a lot of moolah.

Bindinfingin ghost-holograms followed her around with sad expressions. The long dead intelligences expected better of her.

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"We've waited your return for fourteen thousand trine. Red Raven will you not reveal at last the eighth wonder? We have so waited to know the final answer." The Bindinfingin said to Shawna, but she ignored them. They almost sounded like they thought she was someone else and that the treasure was one of those 'the treasure was the adventure' or 'the treasure was really just friendship' or someshit.

Shawna wasn't going to eat an adventure-friendship treasure, not after the nog figurine got smoochies from her. "Jesus, give me the strength of patience not to kick all these nogs."

"Do dead humans talk?" A nog asked.

They began arguing and discussing whether humans could talk when they were dead. Shawna put her two cents in, insisting that she could indeed talk while she was dead.

"Thou shalt not speak to the dead." A nog zealot drew his putty maker. Others pulled out their blow tubes, spit ball launchers and bald makers. One or two had forgot to pack weapons to the witch burning ceremony, but scooped up some dirt into their empty buckets.

"Thou shalt not fart from thy mouth." Shawna said in the dark, mimicking a nog-sounding voice. Then, as she blew a raspberry, the nogs went berserk. They had divided into two groups, each with opposing religious views, although none of them were sure what religious view the group they were divided into was seeing. The sound of the raspberry was like a starting bell, and within minutes the nogs had annihilated themselves, dead nogs scattered everywhere. The last of them finished itself off. Nogs were perfectionists.

"Now for that treasure." Shawna said gleefully. She followed the path through the empty nog village and found their sacred grotto. It was unguarded, and at last, she'd done it, found what she was always told wasn't even real.

"Reality, Shawna." A familiar voice said from the silent swamps all around.

"Who said that?" She asked.

"Reality is the treasure. I just want you to come back to me. I know you're in there. I can feel you dreaming."

Shawna shook her head. "I know what's real."

A few glowing bugs floated lazily on the air past her, going off to some hollow log to party. Shawna felt watched, like someone was holding her hand. It was going to be good, when she didn't find the treasure, what a weird feeling. Shawna shook it off. The treasure was hers.

"You think you can take my treasure?" The space pirate captain's hologramatic ghost stood in her way.

"So, you're Red Raven. Notorious brigand, mutineer and baroness. I'm here for your treasure, I knew it was real, I knew it all along." Shawna smirked. "The aliens, they worshipped you, but I know you're just a criminal." Shawna told her. "You even almost had me fooled with the Bindinfingin holograms making this sound like some sort of morality scam."

"Yet you made it all the way here." Red Raven smiled, proud of Shawna.

"Of course I did. You think I don't know what's real and what isn't?" Shawna laughed.

"The treasure is real. You just have to go through that door and accept what's on the other side." Red Raven pointed. "It's the treasure."

"See? You're still trying to psych me out. I'm abouts to be richer than John Godson. Sick of this." Shawna grabbed the handle, but something felt wrong.

"Just go through." Red Raven urged her.

"I can't." Shawna felt her eyes watering. "I just want to stay here. I'm not ready."

"You'll never be ready to be rich like John Godson. Nobody ever is. Just go in there already. I gots to get my wings, Shawna." Red Raven made 'go on in' gestures, shooing Shawna with the backs of her hands waving up at her.

"If this is any kind of treasure that isn't money, I swear I'm coming back here for you, and even though you're dead, I'll choke you out anyway." Shawna told Red Raven.

"Yes-yes, all that. Now go through already, the hour draws late." Red Raven seemed to have unlimited patience, despite her efforts to urge Shawna into the treasure behind the weird creepy disembodied door floating in the swamp. The door that looked suspiciously like her bedroom door as a child, growing up. Not liking this one bit, no sir.

Shawna took a deep breath, closed her eyes, turned the handle and went through.