"Trader," the Maiden greeted him.

"Milady." He took her hand, raised it to its lips. "My thanks to you, for giving Carrie a form her own, and for midwifing my own rebirth. I am not the man I was, but another, and as both of those men, I thank you."

"It was sorely needed." the Maiden told the Trader.

"Hm. Then let us see if we can provide these fine folk some sorely needed assistance – for a body thief has one of their own in her thrall, and I mean to correct that little injustice."

The Maiden allowed herself a smile. "It can be done, good sir... but which would you have? Call the Queen or the Siren?"

The Trader frowned. "I must admit, the idea had not occurred... Create a body for the Queen? That would put a crimp in her plans..."

#Wait a minute!# Ayna squawked. #You're not saying what... oh Hades, you were!#

"She's right." Dominic said. "Xeffy's still attached to her body – her own body. I'm not sure she'd take rebirth with your equanimity."

"And what magics do we have that can withstand the Queen, hmm?"

The Maiden's eyes tracked across to Alryssa. "You have Gallifrey herself here. With her – and with storyteller and magician behind her – she could do this."

Alryssa looked up, and sighed. "I'm not actually sure that's such a good idea."

"Why not?"

"It would right the wrongs I did her, true..." Alryssa shook her head. "I betrayed her. I chose death – well, 'chose' isn't really the word. I'm not sure what is. The Pythia cursed Gallifrey to a living death – that its people would never again know the womb-born – and in that moment, in the Reaving, the stars went cold.

"She was my Muse. My inspiration. She is proud – she has reason to be, because she midwifed the life I bore. She was the first of the Six – and she lost it all, and lost it once more in my destruction.

"She seeks my heart's desire... but how can you seek the desire of someone who gave up her heart?"

She sighed again. "Yes, I could do it. I'm not sure what price it would cost me – but it would cost me.

"Mine was the life-giving, hers the spark that brought it to existence. As Sailor Gallifrey, it's part of me to give life... but only under certain conditions."

"And this fulfils those conditions, milady." the Maiden said formally.

Alryssa nodded. "Like I said. It can be done. But I'd need Imran and Gordon if I were to do it."

"Would it solve our problems, though?" the Trader asked.

"It would pull her out of Xeffy, wherever she is – but it would not solve the problem of the Sampo." Dominic said. "Flame and key... and somehow, I think she knows what we've done with the flame. If we did... it would mean finding Xeffy, finding the key... and getting to the Sampo post-haste, before the SKoLD activates. If we took Xeffy..." He shook his head. "She no longer would have a hold over us – or a personal hold. She would, however, still have the SKoLD... and..."

Dominic frowned. "I find it difficult to believe that she didn't know the flame's form – its mechanism. It would explain why only one of this world can work the Sampo – how can you eat without a body? We have chosen the flame, she has chosen the key...

"Would there be any way we could reach Xeffy if we pulled the Queen out?" he asked the Maiden.

"You could... but again, the way would be difficult. Fast – but an instant of Xephanya's time – but difficult. And there would be no return."

"So which do we choose?" Carrie asked him. "One way or the other, we delete her back up program – but one way removes her from this world, while the other rescues Xeffy.

"Your choice, Dominic. Rescue the world, then your daughter... or rescue Xeffy, then save the world."

Dominic suddenly smiled. "Not quite correct.

"What about the Ice Queen's choice?"

#Huh? Dad, did you hit your head or something?#

"Maybe. Wait and see..."

"I, the defender My brother's shield My brother's champion "I, the magician My brother's guide My sister's anchor "I, the storyteller My sister's laughter My brother's keeper "Once together, always together Our fates willingly entwined To this task we lend our strength We call you, first of the Six We call you, Gallifrey's star We call you, life-bringer By the hatred you bear her By the light you showed her By the promise you made her Come to us, from the body you wear Come to us, from the world you hold And make yourself known."

And she spoke.

I AM HERE, GALLIFREYA.

Alryssa lowered her staff.

WILL YOU STAND WITH ME?

"My answer remains what it was. Yet I would still speak with you."

AND WHAT IS THERE TO SAY?

"I forgot," Alryssa said simply. "In the beginning, I thought about you often. I thought that I would seek you out, and make amends.

"But we were... conflicted, at odds, and so it came to nothing.

"And I... forgot."

Alryssa looked up. "Milady, I stand here before you. I do not ask forgiveness. I do not ask repentance. I only ask that you know why I did what I did."

AND YET YOU CHOSE DEATH.

"The first time..." Alryssa shook her head. "I heard my priestess's cry, and I answered – and I felt the reaving, as something was torn from me.

"And then they stopped speaking.

"I understood what had happened to me, to them – but I did not understand what it meant to them. I did not think that way, not then.

"I chose it, and so betrayed you – for in that choice came Reason's rise, and your fall."

"Then..." Alryssa breathed out. "Then it came back. What was lost was restored in truth, and perhaps, this time, Reason and Intuition could have reached a balance..."

Her eyes flicked over to Eight. "But it was too late, and so I fell."

"I died – and was reborn, to set right the imbalance. To prevent that which had led to my people's downfall."

She sighed. "I've failed, true – but I am alive, and so I live with that.

"I've won – and I am alive, and so I live with that.

"I gave up my heart, and I live with that.

"I found those who would stand by me, my friends – and those who chose to share their fates with mine, my brothers.

"And I found my place in the world."

YET CAN ALL THAT BE TAKEN FROM YOU.

"And do you think I do not know that? And know I cannot love what I have lost?"

AND STILL CAN YOUR HEART'S DESIRE BE TAKEN, GALLIFREYA. STILL CAN IT BE TAKEN.

"I know, milady. As was your desire.

"As was your star."

DO NOT SPEAK OF HIM.

"Why?" Alryssa's eyes flicked over the group, over Dominic. "Ah, and so it becomes clear... He told me of your hatred for him, could not understand... and neither did I.

"But now I see.

"His face... it was his face, was it not? The face which was your star, so long ago.

"To see another with his face... what did it mean to you? Love, and hatred, and grief, and rage... a sign of all that you had lost.

"And yet he fought you.

"You sought to steal his daughter, to break him... to break the symbol of all you had lost, and so regain it all. Symbols."

SILENCE.

"For speaking truth, milady? Many's the time I heard that one – as have my friends." Alryssa paused. "Milady, you have seen the world from without, seen it through others' eyes... though you claim not. I ask of you – will you not see it with your own eyes?"

I HAVE.

"But not as they see it." Alryssa fell quiet. "You seek my heart's desire, seek his breaking, seek your world's return.

"You seek revenge, and restoration.

"But do you believe you can go back? For you are other than you were, and what you seek changed in kind.

"And once you have it, what then? What will you then? Once these things are done, what is left but desire's end? For if this is all you desire, then you have fallen far indeed."

AND WHAT ELSE IS THERE TO DESIRE? WHAT ELSE TO ANSWER MY CALL? NAUGHT THAT I CAN SEE.

"But you do not see it through your own eyes, milady. You see what they see. Why do you not see it with thy own eyes?"

YET YOU SEE IT THROUGH ANOTHER'S EYES. THROUGH THE EYES OF THE MORTAL.

"And that has changed me. For I could not see things as they could until I joined with her.

"Yet you can. You do not need to take another's body to see this world.

"See it one more time – and then make your choice.

"For hatred's sake. For love's sake.

"For the sake of the promise you made me. For the sake of the promise he made you."

FOR THAT PROMISE...

FOR THAT PROMISE, I SHALL.

SO LET IT BE.

"Then I call you forth." Alryssa said.

"Then we call you forth." Gordon said.

"And into this vessel." Imran said.

"Champion. Magician. Storyteller. To this art our skills we lend To create, to shape, to protect. Ours the protection of that which brings forth. Ours the creation of things old and new Ours the shaping of that which is We three speak as one, and ask that our call be heard We have chosen the protection of life's celebration Let this our magic come now to pass And let this life be born."

The presence withdrew.

"...Did it work – " Varne began.

One of the tree's many trunks shuddered.

"I think now would be a good time to get down." Alryssa said distantly. "It always gets messy when a god manifests..."

The more prescient of the party had already done so. The others followed quickly after.

KRAKA –

The hawthorn exploded.

The trunk detonated, shards and splinters in all directions, tearing it to shreds.

And when it was done, when the woodstorm had died...

...they looked up, and beheld the place where the thorn had been.

"Dear Lord..." Amanda whispered.

White hair. White eyes. A soft grey robe draped around her slender form.

A girl no older than Ayna.

Yet her eyes held the depth of years.

"So it is done, once more." she said, her voice clear and high and bitter. "So it is done.

"I am myself.

"I am Electra.

"And I am here."

Trader Grey rose, brushing wood-chips from his cloak, and bowed formally. "Lady Electra, welcome. There is somewhat I'd offer you..."

She looked at him. "I think not. I care not." She began orienting once more on the risen Alryssa.

"One moment only." The Trader smiled: sunlight glinted briefly off a duralloy-crowned back tooth. "You sundered me and my Demiurge, Celia of the Earthly Paradise, against our will. And yet as things have fallen out, I'm prepared to name what you took as fair exchange for what came to us in its place. And that will count as quit-claim between you and Zaqqum, Whom Celia has been elsewhere.

"Some might think that no light offer, milady: not Hastur Itself cares to match powers with Zaqqum, in the shadows of desolation where She dances; and you have spoken as one who might find those shadows, indeed. Yet I waive all claims in a spirit of simple justice, a setting right of scales." He bowed again. "And in earnest of my satisfaction, I'll even throw in a little lagniappe into the bargain. You came to make a choice, milady...

"I'll leave it to others to argue our cause. Do you choose for us, I have no clue as to what shall come of it; for that way lies chance, and all the choices you wish for beyond it. But should you choose against us... why, you've been very frank with us, you'd do such things as could never be recalled. Desire's end, indeed. It's a shame if you can't weigh that fairly before choosing for it, yea or nay. If, after all, you judge that's what you want... I offer you an option. To see what you choose, before you choose it."

She snorted. "A fitting offer for a mortal," and there was an unambiguous stress on the word's full meaning here, "to make a goddess! Why, even your trumpery magic's burned out of you. You have nothing to offer anyone..."

"Wisely seen – as far as it goes." Trader Grey seemed neither daunted nor offended. "I've less magic now than Sparrowhawk after the Dry Spring. But I know a charm that will work in your hands, and that I give you freely. If you'd speak to a peer of yours in her own realms, who's been to desire's end and become it, all you have to do is call:

"Come, Nyssaida – end of all revenge. Come, Sheilaida – end of lover's grief. Come, Ourania of the Black Sun – end of Muse's art. By Dayspring, Phoenix-fire, and Heaven's dead desire, Come, Star-Eyes. Come, thou Tree of Hell. Come, Zaqqum!

" – and she'll come to you as once she came to me. Not in her power, as she is in her own world: I could not summon her so if I would, and I deem that you would not. But as avatar only: to speak to her, to see her eyes, to know how it would be. And you know, great Queen, that a Demiurge may not lie. If you would know the truth of that path before you take it – well, I put the means into your hands, for better or worse."

"You think to shake my will?"

"I wouldn't presume to. But the information is on hand, if you want it; and I doubt that any other entity truly possesses it. My hope is that you'll choose for us – but should you not..." A slightly ashen cast was beginning to overtake the Trader's smiling features, "... let's just say I'd like to see you as truly free in that choice as in the other. Take the option or not, but I give it into your hands. A bit of lagniappe for our earlier dealing, as I said."

Electra regarded him more deeply, more seeingly, and then accorded him a small, regal nod, before turning back to her main business with Gallifreya.

And because when the gods truly see something in us, it becomes manifest, his companions saw for an instant all the Trader's terror and shifty, juggling courage in that encounter. He stepped back like an old man; then Carrie held him, and whispered something in his ear, and slowly the youth and the colour came back into him, and his smile became a living thing again. His companions looked away hastily, for it was not a fair thing to witness.

A bit of lagniappe. A side-deal. A trifle thrown into the scale.

But everyone knew that the main business was yet to come. Electra's dreadful eyes turned to Alryssa.

Alryssa breathed deeply, took heavy breaths.

"Being mortal has weakened you, I notice." A simple observation.

"Not mortal... not quite. I'm immortal – until such time as I find a successor." Alryssa returned. "That was the deal we made."

"I have agreed to our bargain." Electra said. "Once more will I walk the world, see it with these eyes. You and yours will show me the world you have shaped.

"Then will I choose what shall be done with the myth-engine, what it shall make real.

"Should there be nothing in this world... then shall it make my desires real, and there shall be an end to it.

"Should there be something, then..." Electra shrugged. "We shall see."

Alryssa smiled wanly. "For hatred's sake. For love's sake. You know how you may steal my heart's desire, even though I gave it up."

"Yet still you gave it into my hands. Foolish? Wise?" Electra regarded her, white eyes revealing nothing. "We shall see, Gallifreya."

"So we shall." Alryssa said. "So we shall."

"And will you argue their cause?"

Alryssa shook her head. "That was not the bargain. To show you – for yourself – the world you seek to remake, the world that you would return to whence we knew.

"What they will do is their choice."

"And do you believe it will work?"

Alryssa hesitated before she replied. "I remember... I remember my star. I remember she who I sheltered in my embrace, who shaped my tides and brought to me life.

"I remember she who was once my Muse.

"And... I remember my darkest night, when the stars went cold. I remember a threat to swallow me whole. I remember the betrayal I made.

"Do I believe?

"Yes."

"You have another." Electra's gaze took in Tessa.

"She is Muse to both of us." Alryssa said. "To us both. Loyal friend, brave ally. And I would not see her hurt."

"We shall see." Electra said.

"There is nothing to stop you doing as you wish," Alryssa said quietly. "Even now. Reclaim the key – or let the Smith's box of tricks run its course."

"We made a compact. I shall keep to that, if you do also." Electra said. "Show me this world. Allow me my choice.

"And it was sworn by our promise – by his promise. Should you – or any of these others – break our compact, should any raise a hand against me, you know what I will choose."

Alryssa nodded. "And should you raise a hand against me and mine, then I shall face you. And not even the Powers know what will come of that."

"Then so let it be sworn."

"So let it be."

"So what will you now? Allow the Smith's box of tricks to run its course?

"Or seek out the key?"

"The key." Alryssa said. "And she who bears it."

A tiny, cold smile showed itself. "Ah. My hostess. My avatar. Light and dark... Very well.

"Very well."

[ Magnus's appearance had changed; now, instead of a robe he was wearing combat leathers, with an extremely ornate belt. In his right hand was a rod of black crystal. His left hand rested on studs on the belt. ]

Magnus: "The point may be academic. The SKoLD does have a mind of it's own."

Varne: "Neither Electra nor Sweetheart are maintaining this scene. I can sense Xeffy but she and Anya are but shadows."

Eloise perked up her ears at this, and locked eyes with Maid TARDIS, who was standing nearby. A slight cock of the head in Magnus' direction was all Eloise needed to confirm that this was a bluff.

As soon as Electra had become manifest, Sweetheart reestablished her telepathic link. And based on what Eloise was feeling now, compared to what she felt when she first made contact with Baby Dragon in the food fight arena, nothing had changed – except that the SKoLD was powering up again – and fast – (and... could it be?... another worldlet? and attack from another enemy?) Maid TARDIS nodded, and the troll shifted uncomfortably on her feet.

Eloise didn't know Nine and Ninety technology any more than she knew the life of a ladybug. But she did know Sweetheart – better than anyone, she suspected (barring her previous Pilot). And based on what she knew – what she felt – the SKoLD had no more of a mind than a computer search engine – or a hacker's virus. Give it a code – a specific pattern of consciousness – to search for, and let it loose to crack the mind open, and return with all the bits of consciousness like the results of a word count. But this was more brutal – much more brutal than a simple scan. This thing cracked the mind open like a pomegranate, so that whoever set it on its search could sift through those seeds till you find what your looking for. Like Humpty Dumpty there was no putting the mind back together again afterward.

Electra: "I know you, you are..."

Magnus: "Silence, fool! Do you really want to meet what I was?"

[ Electra raised a hand in fury, but then hesitated as she ran the speech through her mind. ]

Electra: "You are not what you were, that is true, but why worry about a name?"

Magnus: "That was what I was, what that which was, choose to sacrifice. But names have power, and even a chosen sacrifice can be undone. If somebody of your power mentions that name, I could be destroyed, but then you would face that which I was."

Electra: "A name will be forgotten, but what are you now?"

Magnus: "Oh, Spawn of Anwynn, That Which Binds, but call me Magnus."

Electra: "I'll call you fool first, you are bound by the pact. Now what do mean by Academic?"

Magnus: "I am bound by nothing but what I choose. And I choose to be bound by implied contract to Eloise."

"Now ask her to tell me to answer your question. If she agrees I will consider it."

Amanda (aside to Varne): "Is he always this over confident?"

Varne: "Always. I think he has trouble telling confidence and macho posturing apart, besides it is not his family or his worlds. He is not a nice person at times."

Eloise could see the anger rising in Electra's eyes. They didn't have time for this sort of bestmanship. If they didn't hurry, Sweetheart's mind, her soul, would be lost forever. Saving the Universe was important, but right now, she had to save her friend. For what would the universe be without Sweetheart in it? Magnus didn't understand that – he couldn't – not without being what he was.

Eloise cleared her throat, and spoke up as loudly as her pounding heart would let her. "Magnus," she said, "If you are bound by contract to me, than you, too, are bound by this pact as I am. I am Hostess. I am responsible for my guests – I will lay down my life for them, if need be. And I am also responsible for their actions. Your honour (or lack of it) is also my honour." She turned, and bowed deeply to the blazing new avatar "And I owe all honor to the Goddess Muse Electra."

"You expect me to cower – "

"Who said anything about cowering?" Eloise cut him off. "Do I look like I'm cowering?

"No. Electra, above all, is a Muse – a dark Muse, perhaps, but still a Muse. And whatever else is in her nature, a muse fosters creativity – she inspires, and drives us to act on our dreams. She would not want us to fear her, I think, for fear and creativity cannot exist in the same heart. I respect her, deeply. I am in awe of her power. But I do not fear her."

She turned again to the shining Goddess. "Lady," she said, "You are not alone in your search for the myth engine, are you? Someone else is here, too, someone who wants its power for evil purposes. We are in a race, aren't we?"

Electra hissed angrily. "They would steal from me, that which is rightfully mine. Only a Goddess has the true strength to harness the Sampo. I seek it in order to remake the universe. They seek only to destroy."

Eloise let out a long breath. "Well, given those two choices, I know which one I'd pick. Come on – enough time for exposition – we've got a universe to save (again)!"

Xeffy's body hacked and spluttered.

Then the eyes fluttered open.

"Yeeeuch. I feel like I ate a whole Spamite... Oooh... Where – "

She froze. Wherever she was, it was rocking.

Felt like... like a basket?

She looked up.

Handle. On rope. Suspended in black void.

Swaying.

"Er..."

Nothing from Anya – no reflection or shadow.

She tried moving her arm, and winced – pins and needles shot through it.

She tried again, working the arm until she could regain feeling.

Then she worked on the other arm.

Finally, gingerly, she hauled herself up, twitching with every movement.

Black void in all directions. Only the rope and the basket –

She squinted. A point of light at the end? Or just lights in front of her eyes?

Wait a minute...

"OW!"

She pulled it out from under her and held it up.

And gasped, as a stray spark of light caught the object.

A key. Felt... like glass?

Like crystal?

Oh no.

Xeffy scrunched her eyes shut.

Whatever'd happened to the Queen – and right now she was entertaining some particularly pleasurable fantasies involving flamethrowers, fire-breathing dragons and napalm enemas – she'd withdrawn just at the point...

...where she'd got the key.

Which left Xeffy to get out.

"This is not the Nine and Ninety's style..." Magnus muttered. "They could care less what happens to the corporeal plane. They will seek their artifacts – preferably by proxy – but destruction..." He shook his head. "No. They have passed beyond this realm, and it matters little to them."

"Then who?" Amanda demanded. "I mean, you can't just say someone wants it to destroy, and then not reveal who!"

"Well..." Grey said, "think on it. Who – or what – have we met with a penchant for destruction, infesting every PLOT Hole and spatio-temporal discontinuity they can find? And what counts as the largest spatio-temporal discontinuity in the general area?"

"The Spamites..." Nth breathed.

Grey nodded. "Or their progenitor. The agency responsible for their birth – for the corruption of spam, and the unleashing of the Spamites' devastation. Whomsoever that might be..."

"We never did find out who was responsible for the corruption of Spam..." Carrie remembered.

"And now – taking Magnus's word aright, for he knows the Nine and Ninety better than any other – it seems our shadowy manipulator has just made itself known – for even it cannot escape a goddess's gaze..."

Dominic turned to the Maiden. "The quick way. Now!"

The Maiden nodded.

Drew her bow.

Pulled it back.

And in the space where an arrow should have been appeared an arrow of light.

And the Maiden let fly.

A trail of light streaked from her bow and into the distance, widening as it went.

By the time they could no longer see where it ended, the trail was wide enough for one person to walk.

"Step on," the Maiden said, "and it shall take you where you wish to be."

"But the way is fast and difficult..." First murmured.

The Maiden nodded.

"At the moment, we have very few other options..." Dominic said. "Not if we want to reach Xeffy."

Varne: "That's it, I have a lock on Xeffy, regardless of what happens I can find her. I can sense Anya but I can not locate her. It is as if she is not quite in the real world."

Magnus: "Real World, this?"

"Well, milady?" Dominic addressed Electra. "Shall we wait on your going, or await your arrival?"

"We shall go." Electra said, eyes flashing cold. "We shall go.

"Now."

And she stepped onto the trail of light.

I have to run... faster.

Danel moved as rapidly as someone can in tight leather trousers, which wasn't fast. Somehow he had lost Xellos – he wasn't sure how, exactly. Maybe the corridors had reconfigured behind him. That would have been lucky.

He stopped as a sudden thought hit him. Even if he got to the battle in time, none of it would matter because that sort of 'nick of time save' would power up the SKoLD just as much. But what else could he do?

A door skidded to a halt next to him, and opened, revealing a large library. Danel looked back at the corridor as he entered. "Thanks, Sweetheart."

The battle between the Coat and the Trousers began once more, but this time, things were different.

The trousers had Charley's Staff of the Currents, and the Coat was busy possessing Paul. In a happy, pro-fun way, of course.

"This time, I will win," said Paul, angrily.

"Do you think so?" the Trousers replied. "You are mistaken – understandable, in your illogical mind."

"hehehe. You believe your 'Spam' victory was meaningful? You were damaged as much as I in that battle!"

"What are they talking about?" Charley asked Ruthie, quietly.

"I don't know... and I don't understand the reference to Spam. so much is going on here... we need someone to just work out what's going on, but everything's happening so fast..."

'SPAM' AFFAIR ROCKS COUNTRY

Danel looked at the newspaper, from the 1940s. How odd. Why was Sweetheart showing him this? Then he looked at the picture and his eyes widened. What was Doc5 doing in the Coat of Spectral Uncertainty? He recognised the design. It seems that the events from the 1940s are tied up with what is happening now... he thought.

"Sweetheart, how can I stop Xellos? What's the real story behind the Coat and the Trousers?"

A book fell from one of the shelves followed by another.

'OF THE NINE AND NINETY', and 'EVERY BRITISH SCHOOLBOY'S BOOK OF HOW TO NEUTRALISE MYSTERIOUS TRANSDIMENSIONAL ARTEFACTS'.

Interesting.

What in the world were they doing here?

For luck, he opened the second book first.

"Hmm... let's see... 'A unique artefact called Some Kind of Large Device is known to exist. No one knows the purpose of this device, but according to research it has the power to plunder the subconscious of a transdimensional being. This is obviously limited in use, but it can also do the same to other lifeforms, with potentially lethal side effects...' Lethal? I could have died! I'd best continue reading, and stop talking to myself – 'It is also affected by large groups, and seems to be attracted to the power of narrative' – I know this – 'and it can be used to alter reality, though seeming to have a mind of its own to accomplish this. If you should come across this device, contact local authorities immediately – do not allow it to make contact with any other transdimensional objects you possess, as the effect of contact is extremely detrimental, leading to dissolution of the mental structure', thus rendering it impossible for a TARDIS currently under the SKoLD's power to communicate with me now. Who are you?"

{CAN YOU NOT GUESS, WRITER?}

"No, I don't want to."

{WE THOUGHT IT WOULD TAKE YOU LESS TIME TO GUESS. WE LOST/WON A SUBSTANTIAL AMOUNT OF MONEY ON THE BET.}

"Very nice of you. Please continue."

{CAN YOU NOT GUESS WHAT WE ARE, WRITER? THERE EXIST IN THIS UNIVERSE FORCES EQUAL AND OPPOSITE. GOOD AND EVIL. MATTER AND ANTI-MATTER. TIME AND ANTI-TIME. FUN AND NONFUN. WE ARE THE REPRESENTATIVE OF FUN.}

"..."

{SURPRISED? WE CHOSE TO USE OUR FOLLOWER TO CONTACT YOU, WHILE IT IS DAMAGED.}

"You used Sweetheart? That's just – "

{THERE IS TOO MUCH AT STAKE TO WASTE TIME ARGUING. THERE IS MUCH THAT BOOK OMITS. THE AUTHORS NEVER REALISED THAT THE skOld IS A KEY. THE KEY TO BRING FORTH INTO PHYSICAL FORM A GREAT POWER LIKE NO OTHER. A MYTH-ENGINE, THE POWER OF STORIES. AN ANCIENT MUSE SOUGHT IT. THE BEINGS KNOWN AS THE NINE AND NINETY SOUGHT IT. BUT THE FORCE THAT IS CLOSEST TO OBTAINING IT IS THE MOST DANGEROUS OF ALL – OUR OPPOSITION. NONFUN. THEY SEEK TO USE THIS PRECIOUS OCCASION TO ATTAIN THEIR FINAL VICTORY, REMOVING FUN FOREVER}

"Wow. I must say, it's nice that you're telling me all this, but why? What can I do about it?"

{XELLOS IS IRRELEVANT. NONFUN MUST BE STOPPED FROM OBTAINING THE MYTH ENGINE.}

"What about the Trousers?"

{THEY ARE AN AGENT OF NONFUN. BUT WE TOO HAVE AN AGENT IN THE AREA, KEEPING THEM IN BALANCE.}

"The coat."

{YES. YEARS AGO OUR AGENTS FOUGHT ONCE BEFORE. THAT TIME, NONFUN WON, AND SUCCEEDED IN ITS MISSION TO CORRUPT SPAM. BOTH OF THE AGENTS WERE DAMAGED AND WEAKENED IN THE BATTLE EVENTUALLY FALLING INTO THE POSSESSION OF A COLLECTOR.}

"Until I brewed up a potion and gave them back their powers. Stupid."

{THAT WAS NOT YOUR FAULT. DID YOU NOT FIND IT CURIOUS THAT YOUR ATTEMPT AT HARRY POTTER MAGIC BORE NO RESEMBLANCE TO ANYTHING FROM HARRY POTTER?}

"While, there is that..."

{YOU WERE DOING THE BIDDING OF OUR AGENT. THAT THE NONFUN AGENT WAS ALSO EMPOWERED IS... UNFORTUNATE. BUT DO NOT WORRY...}

"Be happy?"

{EXACTLY. YOU MUST STOP NONFUN FROM OBTAINING THE MYTH-ENGINE.}

"I think my Spike-side is resurfacing, but why should I? What's in it for me? Sorry, I'm usually much politer and more deferential to authority."

{IN EXCHANGE FOR YOUR AID YOU WILL RECEIVE YOUR HEART'S DESIRE}

"A Muse...? I'll finally get a muse, and be able to be a Writer?" he swallowed. "We have a deal. What do you want me to do?"

"Ruthie, look out!" Charley threw herself at the troll as a blast from the staff went wild. The fight between the clothing was devastating. To make things stranger, Sweetheart was reforming constantly, so the battle moved through rooms and corridors which were constantly changing. Charley could only hope they stayed away from the Console room, and that Paul wasn't too hurt at the end of it.

Just as Charley was finishing up that wish, there was another shift in Sweetheart's configuration, only this time, it wasn't just the corridors around the room that were shifting. The room itself shifted – split right down the middle and spun slowly in a new direction, like a new amoeba budding off from its mother cell. Paul, the Pro-Fun coat, the Evil Trousers and the battle they were fighting were suddenly out of sight.

"Oooff!" said Ruthie, as she tried to keep her balance. "If this were an amusement park ride, it would probably be fun... but as it is..."

"I know," said Charley. "I'd enjoy myself a lot more if I had my staff back from those megalomaniac leggings."

"Ah... There!" Ruthie said. "Seems to have stopped for the mo— Oop! I guess I spoke too soon – Oh, Hello, Walter!"

"Would either of you two ladies," the gangly purple troll said, "mind telling me what in the name of arches and struts is going on around here?!"

Ruthie blushed involuntarily at her cousin's strong language. He was usually boyish and playful. But when he was under stress, his curmudgeonly age and manners showed itself in full view.

"Well, um, it's kind of hard to explain..." she began, not quite sure where to begin.

"I should say so! One minute, the party is going along normally, I'm handing out drinks, and everybody's having the grand time they should be having (though for some reason Allie and Imran have left his milkshake cauldron unattended) and then Sweetheart decides to play hide-and-seek with herself. And who – " he said, eyeing Charley over as if she were a particularly dubious travelling salesmen, "are you? I distinctly remember not seeing you come in."

"Oh, my!" Ruthie said. "You have been out of the excitement, haven't you?" And she and Charley began to tell him (to the best of their collective knowledge) everything that happened since the appearance of the SKoLD.

[edited out for the sake of the gentle reader's sanity]

"And so," Charley concluded, "Now the Pro-Fun coat is battling the Anti-Fun trousers."

"I see," said Walter (and the miracle was that he did, in fact, see – thanks to his curmudgeonly years and wisdom).

Meanwhile, the three of them had been so engrossed in the retelling of the adventure that they hadn't noticed the continuing shift of the TARDIS's rooms and corridors. The long and the short of it was that serendipity, plot holes, and the Pro-Fun Guardians had conspired to have the room they were in line up exactly with the library door just as Danel was running out of it. There was a rather sudden and collective "Oooofff!!" at that moment.

"We have to stop the battle between the Coat and the Trousers!" Danel blurted out.

"What?!" Charley demanded, rising to her feet and helping Ruthie and Walter find theirs. "After we went to all the trouble to set the thing up?"

"I know – I know – but the SKoLD – the Forces of Non-Fun – the myth engine – " And he told them everything he had learned in the library, and deduced from his conversation with Xellos. But his retelling was far more rapid and had a lot more backtracking than theirs had had.

[similarly edited out for the sake of the gentle reader's sanity]

When it was over, Walter shook his head. "Won't work," he said. "If we try to stop the battle, we only become part of the plot. And that would complicate it, and make it stronger."

"I know!" Danel said, desperate. "But what else can we do?"

Walter wiggled his long fingers. "We simply make the story of the coat and trousers disappear."

"How?!"

"The same way a raindrop running down a window pane disappears"

Ruthie cocked her head to one side, squunched up her eyes, and waggled her ears – the way she always did when trying to solve a riddle. "A raindrop running down a window disappears .... when it touches another raindrop! So that means we should somehow get the battle to merge with whatever's going on in the fantasy worldlet?"

"Exactly, Grasshopper," Walter said with a chuckle.

"But how?" Danel asked. "And, by the way, what fantasy worldlet?"

"I'll explain later," Charley said, sotto voce.

"Yes – how?" Ruthie echoed. "We don't even know where the worldlet is, by now, much less the battling clothes."

"Well," said Walter, "Gordon and Silence found their way out of the worldlet without knowing where it 'was', per se. So I don't really think we need to know in order to get in. All we need is an appropriate doorway."

"The Taliesin book!" Ruthie exclaimed, I know just where I left it... I haven't glued the pages back, yet, either... can we use the same ones again?"

"That would be ideal, actually," Walter said.

"Getting ourselves into this 'fantasy worldlet' is one thing," Danel said. But it's not about us, is it? We need to get the trousers and coat in there. And finding them would be like finding a needle in a haystack."

"We don't need to find them... I'm a troll, after all, I'll just – "

"No!" Ruthie interrupted. "Not that!"

"I know how you feel, darlin'" Walter said, in his most avuncular tone. "But the very future of the universe itself is on the line."

Ruthie bowed her head. "You're right, she said. "I just wish you didn't have to."

"Didn't have to what?" Danel asked.

"Perform a troll call. If I can get the trousers to think someone is calling their name, and if they answer, they'll be in my power. They'll come to me – no matter what Sweetheart is doing with her corridors. And where the trousers go, the coat won't be far behind. All I have to do is set up the page door right at my feet... and when the trousers get close enough – "

"We can push them through the door from behind!" Charley finished.

Walter nodded. "Then we can jump in behind."

"It's so crazy, it just might work!" Danel said. "But we'd better hurry – we don't have much time!"

The purple troll nodded. "Okay then. Ruthie, you get those pages. Danel, you look in that history book and see if you can find a name for those trousers. Charley, you're magic. You can help me with the spell."

Charley took a deep breath. "Okay... I've never tried this before, but it should work..."

"Ruthie – "

"I'm gone!" the little deputy yelled, heading for the outside door.

"Name, name..." Danel muttered. "Huh, that's odd..."

"What is?"

"It says something here about... Underwear of Spectral Uncertainty. 'There have been unconfirmed reports of a set of Spectrally Uncertain Underwear... No solid evidence of such currently exists.' Huh. That's all it says." Danel frowned. "But I can see foreshadowing coming a mile off. I think the Underwear's real – and I think it's going to turn up."

"Fun or Not-Fun?"

"I don't know. I'm missing something here... and we can't exactly stop and ask everyone if they're wearing it..." Danel's frown deepened. "If the Trousers are Un-Fun, and the Coat is Fun... then what are the Underwear? And why create them?"

"Another wild card in the mix?" Charley suggested.

Danel chuckled at that one. "Looks like it..."