When I get back to the village, I make my way over to the river, heading upstream when I meet it. Door mentioned he was working on the filtration pumps earlier and I want to tell him and Rifle all about what happened. As I pass the crabroach pens on the other bank, several of the ranchers wave at me, knee-deep in slow-moving water as they herd a group of the scuttling creatures up towards the milking and silking stations. I wave back, calling out a brief hello, and continue on.

Several minutes later, the roaring splash of the Shrine of Saint Curie fills my ears, a subsonic tremble building into an audible vibration. Another ninety seconds of walking sees me round the bend in the river, and my destination appears before me - a broad stone structure nearly twenty scrumbles tall-

7.5 meters

-that stretches across the entire river, cresting the top of a steep hillside covered in spreading trees. Waterfalls spill out from three narrow openings a third of the way up the stone barrier in a continuous roar, feeding the river below in sheets of white spray. Chunky, stepped buildings cap each end, extending down to the base of the hillside - according to Door, the power and filtration mechanisms are in the building on the bank I'm currently traversing, and the purification chambers are on the other side. There's also a large lake behind the Shrine that feeds water in, but the water there hasn't been purified so no one usually bothers visiting it.

I knock on the door of the lowest building level to let anyone inside know I'm entering, then push it open. The room beyond is large and airy, humming lights overhead bathing it in a warm glow, and open windows in the upper section of the wall behind me let in drafts of fresh air. Two desks sit slightly in front of the far wall, rows of cabinets taking up the entire space behind them, and a slight woman with gray-black hair is busy writing on something at the left desk. She looks up as I enter, but doesn't stop writing.

"Sky Idiot."

"Moss Water. Is Door here? He said he was working the filtration pumps today."

"He better be here," she says tersely. "I haven't checked since coming back from our meeting." Her nose wrinkles in disgust, probably thinking about my limbs, but inwardly I heave a sigh of relief. Looks like she didn't notice Door's momentary absence.

Her eyes suddenly narrow.

"When did you talk with him? He started his shift on the pumps this morning."

"Uh, he, uh, must have told me his schedule, yeah, he told me his schedule, uh, last week. Sorry to bother you bye!"

"Make sure he stays on task," she yells as I hurry through the door to my right that leads deeper into the Shrine, and I wave a hasty assent.

The next room isn't much more than a narrow hallway with another door at the far end and an opening to some circular stairs leading up on the left wall. More lights glow overhead, and I pass through the hallway quickly, aiming for the door.

The din of splashing water and mechanical noises greets me as I pass into a massive chamber, this one stretching back deep into the hillside with a ceiling that rises high overhead. Large stone canals filled with running water link even larger cisterns together, a series of suspended walkways tracing a webwork beneath the illuminated ceiling. A repetitive clang echoes through the room, regular in its irregularity, as someone limps along the metal grates with crutches in hand, traveling from machine to machine.

"Hey! Door!" I call out, trying to make my voice carry over the relentless din. The clanging stops, and then a head topped with sandy blonde hair leans over the gantry railing.

"Sky?"

"Close your eyes real quick!"

"Uhm, okay. Why?"

"You'll see." I grin. "Are they closed?"

"...yeah."

I dash to the top of the nearest cistern, then use a quick manifestation of my limbs to quickly swing up and over the metal railing, my feet barely making a sound as I land three paces in front of Door.

"You can open them now."

"Gah!"

He stumbles back, dropping one of his crutches as he hops to try and keep the weight off his injured foot, but he's smiling.

"How'd you do that? Did Dirt show you some secret Idiot technique?"

I pick up his fallen crutch and hand it back to him.

"I wish. C'mon, back to your job. I told Moss I wouldn't distract you, but that doesn't mean we can't talk. I have so much to tell you and Rifle!"

Door gives me a look of mock betrayal, but soon enough we're chattering back and forth as he goes through the maintenance routines for the pumps. I feel a twinge of sorrow as I tell him what happened to Wires after we left them to lead the rest of the teenagers down from Watchers Hill, a matching shadow flickering across Door's face, but it's quickly buried beneath an avalanche of excitement as I continue on and he demands to know more about Box and my new abilities. His eyes go wide when I describe the fight with the violations amongst the hillsides, and then wider still when I narrate my encounter with the reality anchor inside the cave, but it's nothing compared to his reaction when I start the tale of the Entity versus the cruiser.

"No way, Sky. No. Way. That didn't happen." He adjusts a dial on one of the filtration pumps, then leads us to the next one. "I refuse to believe that happened."

It's at that moment Pete decides to wake up from its nap and flow into existence from my shadow, a void of light almost impossible to focus on despite the heavy illumination overhead. Door glances over at it, then freezes, eyes bulging.

food?

"No, Pete," I shout, "bad cat! Stop! You're hurting him!"

The Entity yrowls at me, then looks around the room, oilslick eyes brightening.

...playtime

Pete the Entity-cat slithers through one of the small holes in the metallic grate and jumps into a cistern, a midnight void splashing happily about. Door shudders, then returns to himself, a trickle of blood leaking from his nose. I suck in a breath to apologize, but he's already moving to the railing, anger flushing his face as he yells at the Entity doing flips underwater.

"Hey! Get out of there! You're gonna contaminate the water!"

I told you, Sky. That is not a cat.

I look at Door, then at Pete, then back at Door.

"...you can see it? And it doesn't hurt?"

Door glares at me.

"You know we're supposed to keep the filtration pools clean, Sky. I don't know what kind of animal... person... thing..." his eyes glaze over, then snap back into clarity as Pete flicks some water at him with an ebon tail while doing a backstroke, "you brought with you, but it's not allowed in the pools!"

I'm trying to figure out how to answer Door while grappling with the idea that Pete isn't actively melting his mind when the Entity-cat yrowls excitedly and disappears beneath the cistern's surface. We both freeze.

"...Sky?"

"...I don't know-"

Another yrowl and Pete reappears in a different cistern, looking around like it's tracking something. Its hair is slicked back tight, reminding me of the time Great Grandpa showed me a drawing of an 'otter' in the Memory Shrine. Pete's whiskers twitch, and then it disappears again. A distant yrowl sounds from somewhere else.

"Oh, Moss is going to kill me," Door moans, but I'm already dragging him across the gantries towards a door leading to the next room. The Shrine of Saint Curie, centrally located in the middle of the water purification complex, an elevated holding tank dotted with hatches to cleanse Glowbeast meat, raw water, and similarly dangerous elements.

If it breaks, the village is doomed.

I slam through the thin metal portal, nearly carrying Door under my arm at this point, and a tranquil scene greets us.

The living tree of Saint Curie, white trunk twisted into a woman's form, emerald and crimson leaves trailing down her back like flowing tresses, kneels in the center of the small island perched in the middle of the entombed lake. White rootlets stretch from her feet into the placid water, a fine network of thin hairs that covers the entirety of the island in all directions, and her hands are held palms up to an unseen sky, head bowed as if in contemplation of the stygian depths surrounding her. Water drips quietly from the ceiling, a gentle plink plonk that normally soothes the mind, osmotic contributions from the purification complex.

I look around frantically for Pete, then my senses finally register it sitting on top of the lake directly in front of Saint Curie, a dark void regarding the tree in utter stillness. My breath catches in my throat, and next to me Door lets loose a small gasp. Pete looks over at us, then licks a paw and bounds across the surface of the depthless water in our direction, diving into my shadow at the last instant.

naptime

"...what was that, Sky?" Door demands, staring around in confused terror. Now I know how Box feels.

You don't, but you're also not wrong.

"...do you believe me about the Entity now?" I respond weakly, "because that was a little one," and then we're both giggling in hysterical tones, hints of madness creeping underneath. A sense of smug satisfaction wafts through my head, followed by a needle-toothed yawn.

"I need to check the filters," Door wheezes, caught halfway between laughter and crying. "If your... whatever contaminated the catchment, Moss really will kill me."

Before I can respond, a door bangs open below us.

"Door Water!"

We freeze in guilty silence, pretending we didn't hear Moss' enraged shout. Our stealth is broken by one of Door's crutches falling down with a clatter that causes both of us to wince. Moss looks up, arms clasped tight across her chest.

"Door, you get down here right now. You too, Sky Idiot."

We exchange glances, then meekly make our way down the rickety staircase connecting the upper level of the holding tank to the floor.

"What seems to be the problem-"

Moss glares at Door, causing him to splutter into silence. I open my mouth, and she raises an eyebrow. I close my mouth.

If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

"What I want to know," she says, after letting the silence drag on uncomfortably long, "is why my diagnostic readings are showing an unprecedented rise in filtration efficiency when I know you two have been gossiping like chatterbirds for the past hour."

PLAYTIME

Pete slides out of the shadows behind Moss, batting a paw lazily at me before turning in a circle and lying down on its back, legs sprawled out to either side in a posture of pure indolence. Door and I can't help but gawk at the display, amazed at the Entity-cat's insouciance. Moss whirls around, but Pete is rolling through her legs in a tumbling cluster of body parts that somehow avoids touching her or drawing her attention despite being almost twice her size. Moss whips her head back and forth, then spins around again to face us, searching for anything out of the ordinary. Pete's bright pink tongue bleps behind her, the Entity lounging in midair like it's draped across the branch of a tree, and I have to suddenly contain a case of the giggles.

"Why are you smiling?" Moss demands, hands twitching, and it's all I can do to school my features back into neutrality.

"Just glad to be able to talk with one of my friends again," I choke out, trying to ignore the pair of amused oilslick eyes watching our every move. "I'm sure Door's been working hard and observing his duties diligently."

"Yeah," Door coughs, "I've gone through the filtration pump routines exactly. No dangerous materials slipping through on my watch, nope. That's probably why the readouts look so good."

Moss scowls at us, but doesn't see Pete pawing at the air above her head in exaggerated swipes. We both snort.

"...fine. We're going to double-check every one of the pumps, Door Water. And you-" her finger pins me in place as I try to sidle away, "can observe and report to both the Memoriam and Idiot clan leaders. Let's go."

The next hour is absolute torture. Pete tracks our every step, always where Moss isn't looking, and as Door and I grow increasingly unhinged at its antics, Moss matches our energy.

"Why are you laughing," she shrieks, ignorant to the sight of Pete sitting on its own head above her, tail occasionally curling down to give her various facial hair enhancements she somehow doesn't see. Door struggles and fails at explaining why the purification gauge is reading an abnormally perfect output, gut-wrenching snorts interrupting every other breath. I try to keep my face straight in the background, but I'm pretty sure I'm failing.

"Proper water purification levels are not a matter for amusement! The village depends on us! Did you double check the iodine balance?"

"I sure did," Door giggles, "Moss Water. Nothing got into the cisterns that shouldn't be there."

She draws in a heavy breath, then seems to gather herself, anger leeching away from her face. An eerie calm spreads across her features.

"I don't understand your current behavior, Door Water. If the water is contaminated, if we don't do our jobs properly, the village will die. Why aren't you approaching this seriously?"

Door and I pause, looking at each other, and Pete yrowls angrily.

"I... thought I was?" Door asks uncertainly, face scrunching in worry at her somber tone. "I really did check everything, Moss Water, I promise. Even though Sky and I were talking, I know how important the water is. Neither us nor the trees survive without it, and I followed all the routines perfectly."

Moss regards him dubiously, and my heart sinks. It's my fault that Door is in trouble. I'm Pete's anchor. If Door's work is getting disrupted, it's not due to anything he did. Another angry yrowl buzzsaws through my senses, and that's when the pieces come together.

"Bad cat! This is not okay, Pete! You-"

I'm not sure how to continue that sentence, but maybe Box knows-

"-can't manipulate my emotions so I fixate on you as the only available interest," Box analyzed exhaustedly, regretting every quantum collapse that led it to this particular infinity and longing for the sweet embrace of nothingness, "to the detriment of all previous emotional attachments. Furthermore, our reality is not your playtoy, and while I appreciate you helping Door with his tasks, it is difficult for non-integrated humans to understand non-causal approaches to proper water treatment techniques, let alone-"

"-just, listen to Box, Pete! I know you can hear me. Stop messing things up."

Shadows stream into me from every angle, blotting out the lights overhead, and then they're gone. Normal illumination fills the room, painting dark blotches beneath all of our eyes.

naptime

I grin sheepishly at Moss, whose expression could put a thundercloud to shame.

"Uhm, that was my fault, sorry. I think Pete likes to play tricks on people. Door really was focusing on his job."

"Get. Out. Both of you!"

Door and I flee for the exit, Moss quivering like she's about to explode, then burst into fits of laughter once we get outside. We sink to the shaded grass bordering the riverbank so Door can catch his breath. After a couple deep inhales, he looks over at me.

"Wow. I haven't seen Moss that angry since the time I confused calcium hydroxide with chlorine dioxide. What was that thing?"

"Pete, my cat. It was messing with our minds a bit, I think, but I told it to stop. C'mon, let's go find Rifle."

I help Door back up to his crutches and we stroll slowly down the river, chatting happily with each other. I feel a little bad about upsetting Moss, but she said everything was working better than expected, and I'm pretty sure Pete's the reason why. Hopefully she doesn't get too mad at Door.

I still don't understand your glib acceptance of that Entity. It is incredibly dangerous.

"Who, Pete? No it isn't. Pete's a cat. It's not dangerous." I mouth the words talking to Box to Door, and he nods.

...you realize a silent aside only works with things not residing in your brain, right? Irrelevant. The Entity is a piece of untethered reality, and it will eventually turn on us. We need to find a way to get rid of it.

"Pete would never hurt me," I reply indignantly. "I trust it."

Why? Why are you so irrationally confident?

I recall fuzzy childhood memories of sitting on Great Grandpa's lap, pointing and laughing at the faded colors bursting from the page in front of me.

"Because you said we're limited to the infinities I can imagine, and I can't imagine any reality where Pete the cat hurts me."

A sleepy purr of contentment.

happiness

...that is actually an amazingly well-reasoned point that would not work for anyone else in the entire galaxy. I withdraw my objections, and am going to spend the next few thousand processing cycles reinforcing your memories so you can't ever forget it.

"Okay." I mouth the words Box is being weird, and Door nods again.

...I hate you.

We eventually arrive back at the village and head through the trees to the collection of low buildings everyone calls the Bakeries. The air around them smells delicious, as usual - fresh-baked darkfern loaves the primary aroma. I look up at the light streaming through the leaves. It's still greenish goldish, which means we have at least two hours until sunset. The Bakers should be finishing up today's meals soon.

"Rifle should be done soon," Door says, levering himself down into a sitting position as he echoes my thoughts. "Wait out here for her?"

"Probably for the best," I agree, squatting next to him. "They might not appreciate me bringing Pete in there."

disappointment

Door giggles, then reaches forward to massage his calf, right above where his cast ends. I incline my head at his foot.

"Window Doctor wouldn't use heartwood on it?"

"You know how he is," Door grimaces as he works out a knot, "'pain is the most effective teacher' and all that. I think he just likes watching teenagers suffer."

"Maybe. Though, it might just be because heartwood is difficult to harvest properly and we don't have much of it."

"Nope," Door disagrees firmly, "it's because he's a monster that feeds off of our pain. Probably has a collection of anguished screams in those pouches of his. Listening to them is the only way he can sleep."

I take a second to picture the fussy Doctor as some unhinged madman, then we both collapse into gales of laughter.

"I don't think... even Box... could resolve that reality," I wheeze.

"I'm telling you," Door chortles, "he's a monster."

"I've seen monsters, and he's no match. Can't even turn himself inside out."

Our mirth dies away.

"Was it scary?" Door asks quietly, not looking at me. "Having to fight those things? Dirt wouldn't tell us what they were."

I swallow, my mouth suddenly dry.

"Terrifying. Imagine the worst nightmare you've ever had, only it's happening all around you and it keeps getting worse. I'm lucky Box did all of the fighting. I just ran around and tried not to die."

Don't sell yourself short, Sky. Our victories were because both of us performed our responsibilities well. We are a team, now and always.

"...thanks, Box."

We sit in silence with our thoughts for a few moments, and then the main door of the Bakeries opens and a group of people come walking out. One of them peels away and jogs over to where Door and I are regaining our feet.

"Door! I thought you were working late today."

"Hey, Rif-"

Rifle silences him with a quick kiss, then turns to me, holding on to Door's hand.

"Sky, how did you convince Moss to let Door leave early?"

I blush.

"We, uh, kind of got in trouble and she kicked us out."

Her eyes sparkle.

"Oh I have to hear this. Come on, let's find a bench."

We make our way to the village square as Door and I take turns describing Pete's antics and Moss' growing frustration. By the end, we're all laughing together, one knot of raucous teenagers among several as the village square slowly fills with people enjoying the afternoon air.

"You two are horrible," Rifle giggles. "Water filtration is a really important job."

"I know," Door complains, "which is why this is all Sky's fault. I made sure I did everything right, but Moss wouldn't believe me because that 'cat' kept making me laugh when she was asking me questions."

"It pretty much is all my fault," I agree companionably. "I wanted to see you and Door, though, and I didn't know Pete was going to do that."

"Well it's a good thing you went to see him first," Rifle nudges Door with her elbow, "because my dad would have killed us if something like that happened in the Bakeries. He's more serious about food than Moss is about water."

I shudder, thinking about the unassuming Darkfern Baker's vast collection of carving utensils.

"Yeah, probably for the best. So, what did I miss while I was gone?"

We spend the next hour and a half engaged in our favorite pastime - gossiping about daily life in the village. Naturally, I'm a large part of current events, but there's also physical fights between little ones, emotional drama amongst the teenagers and adults, news of one of the crabroaches giving birth, a possible Glowbeast sighting to the south, Rifle and Door's learning woes at their respective jobs, and a host of other happenings to cover.

As the late afternoon sun starts shifting the village light into a soothing red, I stand up from the bench and excuse myself.

"I have to go. I told Chief Engineer MacWillie I'd lead her back to the village when it got dark. She's not used to navigating the forest yet."

Rifle and Door say their farewells, and I jog over to the Bakeries, grabbing a sandwich for myself and one for MacWillie. A quick run through the purple shadows stretching from tree to ground and I'm back at the clearing, orange rays from above mixing with the darker red underneath the forest canopy. MacWillie is kneeling next to the sapling, adjusting something on a mechanical-looking panel attached to the thin trunk. She looks up at my approach, sweat and dirt marring her features, then stands with a grunt, knuckling her back. I offer her a sandwich and she gratefully takes it.

"Aye, thanks for that, young Sky. Was starting to get a mite peckish again."

"How's your work going?" I ask politely. Most of the tools she laid out earlier are gone, back in the bag I would imagine, but several esoteric devices are clustered around one of the tree's roots, thin wires leading up to the mechanical panel.

She shrugs.

"Haven't found the right access protocol yet, but at least I know enough now that I'm pretty sure I won't shut the damn thing down." She takes a big bite of her sandwich, eyes lighting up at the taste. "Mmph. Good food." She swallows, then waves her other hand at the sapling. "Just a matter of time at this point. I've rigged a basic cycler out of some leftover bits and bobs. It'll find it by morning at the latest."

The shadows continue to deepen, sunset giving way to twilight. I finish my sandwich and neatly fold the wax paper, putting it into my pocket.

"Okay, well, we should head back. It's going to be night soon. The forest is usually pretty safe, but there's always a chance a crabroach or juvenile Glowbeast might wander in."

"Aye, if you say so." MacWillie finishes her own sandwich, then puts her tools away in the bag that shouldn't be able to fit all of them. "Cycler should be fine on its own, and I could use a rest."

"I thought you were the Chief Engineer," I tease her, and she grins at me.

"Aye, and if I needed to, I'd be up all night and into the morning, but that Broom of yours has it right. I'll take my rest now when I can get it, because once we start gathering those parts for the receiver, there won't be much rest to spare." She sniffs at her armpit and grimaces. "Could use a good soaking, too. I smell like a dunghorse's anus."

A red glow appears through the trees in front of us and I hear her draw in a breath.

"Is something on fire?"

"No, that's just the village. We turn the lights on at night for the trees."

As we emerge into the outer sections of the village, MacWillie swears softly.

"...and why does it look like the bloody trees are bleeding? The air is weeping red, young Sky."

I look at her in confusion.

"That's just the leaflight." I point up into the canopy underside, where the leaves are glimmering with their normal crimson glow. "See?"

MacWillie halts for a second, staring up at the soothing canopy light, then shakes her head. "Fuck me but this place gets stranger the more I see of it," she grumbles. "That's an unsettling sight, and that's the truth."

"They're just trees, MacWillie. It'd be weird if they didn't have leaflight."

MacWillie shakes her head again, looking over at the lazily winding surface of the river.

"Is it safe to go in the water, at least? I'm going to cry if I have to sleep another night in this mess." She waves her hands at her bedraggled black clothes and grimy features.

"The water's safe," I tell her, confused, "but why would you want to go in it?"

"To get clean? Please tell me your people understand the concept of bathing."

I laugh at her distressed tone.

"MacWillie, we aren't savages. We have indoor plumbing." I motion her onward. "Come on, let's find where they put Huckens so you can take a shower."