“Sorry, Proto, your Princess is in another world!” cried Flua-Sahng. “The breathing world. No happy ending today!”

  At Proto’s look of glum distress, Flua-Sahng’s lips curved up. “But . . . since I’m technically just giving you a vision of the future right now, wink wink, let’s jump ahead a few years and see how this ends, shall we? My, it’s getting a little meta in here!” She fanned her face.

  “Such a nerd,” chided Proto.

  “Cut that out, only we’re allowed to chide!” she chided. “Also, takes one to know one, Weirdo!”

  “Speaking of which, have you wondered what it sounds like for a year to pass?” She tapped her heels three times, and each time, the screech of steel on stone split the air. “That’s three years. More than you’ll like, but not too long for love. As you so nicely put it. You’re really good when you try. Let’s go.”

  When Proto turned to follow her toward the door, he blinked.

  Before him stood the most luxuriant bar he’d ever seen. Ornately inlaid wooden shelves spanned from floor to ceiling, brimming with row upon row of fine spirits, many of them partly empty. There was an entire row of eighty-year-old armagnacs.

  It looked, in short, glorious. And yet it went beyond that. He’d seen nothing so grand since viewing the tombs of former monarchs at Westminster Abbey.

  The odd thing was, the bar hadn’t been there when he’d looked just seconds earlier.

  His confusion must’ve showed on his face.

  “Remember, Proto, three years passed when I tapped my heels just now.” Flua-Sahng gestured at the bar. “My son added that monstrosity soon after I finished creating the place.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Monstrosity?”

  “Well, look, I admit the woodworking is admirable,” she allowed. “But I find myself disturbed by how empty those bottles are looking, Proto! You’ve kept yourself distressingly busy these last few years!”

  “Maybe I invited Somnus over and he helped,” shrugged Proto.

  “You think that makes me feel better? That you’ve reinforced my son’s horrid habits?” she exclaimed. “Or that he came when you invited him?! Do you have any idea how many times I . . . ?”

  Taking a deep breath, she sighed dramatically. Then, she composed herself, brushing off her radiant raiment of star-shaped leaves. “Well, that’s neither here nor there. Today’s your happy day, however sad mine is.”

  Proto patted her arm lightly. “It can’t be that sad, can it?”

  “I’m giving both my favorite children away. To each other. No other mother has to bear this!” she cried. “Well, outside of West Virginia, anyway.”

  “Anyhow.” She sniffed. “Come! We go where we’ve gone before. But not all is as you knew it!” She swept her hand imperiously toward the exit and, an instant later, was striding away.

  Proto hurried to keep up.

  Minutes later, they arrived at the lounge. It was the emptiest he’d ever seen it. Not even Lilac was there. The room looked generally as he recalled, except the assortment of bottles behind the bar had changed a bit. Some bottles looked emptier than he recalled, including the pink and effervescent bottle on the bottom shelf.

  Flua-Sahng eyed the bottle and sniffed. “Yes, my son even had Anima over these last few years. Guess how many times he had me? How it hurts, Proto!” she lamented.

  “Funny how whenever I go to the future, I’m the only one who doesn’t remember what happened in between,” noted Proto.

  “Proto, I’m sparing you the agony of waiting three years!” the Mother of All pointed out. “And of seeing how my daughter conducts herself while thoroughly sauced and surrounded by starry-eyed na?fs. ‘Flap flap.’ Hmph!”

  “I think you admire your children deep-down,” observed Proto. “They’re each like an aspect of you, but taken further.”

  “What in the world is that supposed to mean? Does it look like I have half-butterfly wings or something?” Flua-Sahng planted her hands on her hips, as he chuckled.

  “Hmph. You make a valid point though,” she went on. “It does seem each child inherited one trait from me and, lacking anything else, takes it to a ridiculous extreme. My children are, in short, living and breathing reductio ad absurdums of me. But this is my purgatory. I’ll endure it. As a wise woman once said, you can’t be the Mother of All without being the butt of every Your Mother joke.”

  Proto raised his brow. “With that ‘wise woman’ being . . . ?”

  “Oh, Proto. Are you going to make me say it?” She sweetly batted her lashes. “Anyhow, before I go, let me restore a few more memories you ought to have. I could just tell you, but I prefer showing to telling. It’s less boring, and I hate being boring.” She snapped her fingers with a flash of red light.

  Suddenly, he found himself remembering things that he’d forgotten—his last week in the breathing world, the fact that he’d been placed in cryogenic hibernation, and many other things.

  “One thing I will tell you, though,” she went on, “is that you and Mercune have some big choices ahead of you. For example, how long would you like to stay here? Normally, there are rules about that sort of thing. But you two are a bit of a special case, for reasons you’ll understand momentarily, so I’m flexible. And if I’m flexible, then Somnus will be flexible too. I’ll see to it.”

  “Not that you need to decide your whole future right now,” she added. “You can take some time to talk about it. And then, maybe on some future Saturn Return, you’ll decide to head up to the breathing world. Or perhaps you’ll stay in the dream world. The important thing is, you’ll have each other. And, no matter what world you’re in, that makes a world of difference.”

  She double-gunned him. “Get it? World of difference?”

  “That’s like a dad joke, from the Mother of All. A mom joke,” observed Proto.

  “Oh, have I created the elusive Mom Joke?” she exclaimed happily. “I hope you’ll honor me by saying so. I’ve created lots, but that would be special. And I am often called funny. For example, Mercune often points at me and says, ‘She’s a little funny,’ and spins her finger by her head like so.”

  “Well, the nut doesn’t fall far from the nut tree,” said Proto.

  “Oh, I like that, Proto!” she cried, clasping his hands. “You’re one of us. This is going to work out well, isn’t it?”

  “Flattered to be part of the family,” he replied.

  “As you should be!” Flua-Sahng took a deep breath, smiling wistfully, then released her breath and his hands. “Alright. I’ll see you soon, Proto. Not too soon. But soon.” She handcurled farewell a few times, then turned and started toward the doorway.

  Halfway there, she yawned and stretched. Lifting a red cell phone from an apparent pocket in her radiant raiment, she started scrolling down the screen. After a moment, she giggled faintly.

  Proto frowned and cleared his throat. He handcurled farewell vigorously.

  “Hm,” mused Flua-Sahng.

  “Yeessss?” said Proto.

  “Oh, don’t mind me, just foreseeing something.” After several seconds of rumination, Flua-Sahng looked up at him. “Random question. What do you think sounds better? Daughter of Life’s Daughter? Or Granddaughter of Life?”

  Proto wrapped his mind around this, then blinked. “Oh, for Heaven’s sake!”

  “Yes! For my sake!” laughed Flua-Sahng giddily, tossing away the cell phone. “Maybe I’ll have her call me Mom-Mom. Adieu, Proto!” She misted out of being.

  Her afterimage was still in Proto’s eyes when he heard the voice behind him.

  “Um, this is a surprise,” she called. “But not unpleasant.”

  Proto felt discombobulated to the point of whiplash. He turned and looked.

  Facing him from the tree tapestry doorway was a girl with red hair, falling loose about her gossamer green tunic. It matched her wide and eager eyes. She couldn’t quite suppress a grin as, tepidly, she raised a hand. “Hey?”

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  “What’s this?” demanded Proto. “An intruder in the realm of dreams? A seer, reconnoitering in the enemy’s base? Hoping to visit some dreams, Seer? I hear you can thwart Fate that way!”

  “That’s exactly how I hoped I’d be greeted after three years apart,” Mercune cried happily. “Hello again, Proto! After all your stalking of me, I felt it was my turn.”

  “Well, you’ve made it. The belly of the beast! The enemy’s lair! The hornets’ nest!” With each phrase, he flung his arms forth toward the lounge around them.

  “Question, Hornet.” She scanned the room as he waved grandly toward it. “Is that your cell phone on the floor?”

  Approaching, she lifted the red phone and put it to her ear, then eyed the screen. “Also, why in the world are there hundreds of hamsters dancing on the screen, singing in chipmunk-like voices? Is this what boys do on the Internet when we’re not around, Proto?”

  “No comment,” he said.

  The girl shook her head grimly. “Make a note, Mercune—don’t leave Proto alone more than five minutes at a time, and no more than two minutes with a cell phone. Bad for him, bad for the world.”

  “What is that?” Proto leaned and squinted toward the screen.

  “He’ll try to hide it. He’ll try to deny it,” she warned. “But if you check his search history and see hamsters, you’ll know you’re too late!”

  “Hamsterdance?” he muttered. “There’s a blast from the past.”

  “He admits it!” she accused. “I’m never leaving you alone again!”

  “Your terms are acceptable,” he replied. “Anyway, I hear it takes two to save the future.”

  “Right, about that saving the future stuff,” she said. “I’m a little confused. And that’s not something the Greatest Living Seer says very often. Except when Himari is explaining linear algebra. And when Prince Hans suddenly turns into a bad guy.”

  “Confused?” he repeated.

  “Right,” she nodded. “So, right before I got here, I had the most amazing vision. It’s about this group of seven wanderers, a thousand years in the future—who, by the way, correspond to the Seven Wanderers of classical astrology, that is, the Sun, the Moon, Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter and Saturn, who go on a truly epic quest across the world, crossing uncrossable boundaries, using my red rock as a Passagestone, to restore the fallen Elements and reverse a blight that’s spreading across the Earth. I watched the whole thing. Multiple years of it!”

  “Meanwhile, I guess I was wandering around on that starry dream plain with the Mists, and I might’ve blown my way through them, and I might’ve walked into that mirky blue palace up on the clifftop—which, by the way, I always thought looked really cool. And I might’ve invited myself inside, might’ve strolled about a bit, and—lo and behold—might’ve found myself here. With Proto!”

  “Well. I might be delighted to see you,” he said.

  “Likewise!” she sang, beaming.

  There was a slight pause as, for once, she said nothing. She seemed to be waiting expectantly.

  “So! Make yourself at home.” Proto gestured vaguely at the aged spirits and cushioned chairs. “We may not have everything the breathing world has, but we do all right.”

  “Proto,” Mercune replied patiently, “I know what the dream world has. I’ve been visiting it since you were—well, not in diapers. I wasn’t born yet. But I have been coming here since you were skipping class to play video games! Bottom line is, I’m a regular. These people know me! . . . Except, I guess, people here in Somnus’ Palace.”

  “Also,” she added, “I can’t say I miss the breathing world right now. Not what it used to be, I’m afraid.”

  “The end of the world will do that, huh,” observed Proto.

  “Yeah. And being halfway across the world from your friends, with a hundred uncrossable Boundaries between you and them, and most cities in ruins, doesn’t help either,” she noted. “And then after Gramps went . . . well, there wasn’t much left for me in Dubai, was there?”

  Proto blinked. “When what?”

  “Gramps, you mean? Yeah. He passed a while back. No, it’s okay,” Mercune reassured him, as he winced and open his mouth to apologize. “It’s been months now. And he went the way he would’ve wanted to—saving the world, then saving me.” She smiled and wiped a dewy eye.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  “Old age, I suppose,” she sighed. “Or did you mean the ‘saving me’ part?”

  “All of it,” answered Proto.

  “Well. I won’t bore you with the long version, I guess.” She looked away. “You know about the Pandaemonium, of course? When the Elements rained their fire? Well, Gramps was the one who stopped them. He had the idea to create the Boundaries using Flua-Sahng’s Fossil, and power them by draining the Elements. He coordinated it with his lab back home at Atlean University, in those lovely white spires they have back there. So, the world was divided into Fragments by the Boundaries, the Elements were trapped within small Fragments, and they were drained of their energy to power the Boundaries. That put an end to their destruction. In short, Gramps saved the world!”

  “The problem is,” she went on, “once the Boundaries were up, they were up for good. We were all stuck in Dubai, with millions of other people, without all the stuff that used to come from everywhere else. And that’s when things got real ugly, real fast. Looting, robbery, gangs, governmental collapse. All that stuff that preppers and Fallout players dream about, while ordering non-perishable foodstuffs and Swiss Army Knives online.”

  “Well, ‘dreamt,’ I guess,” she corrected. “Dreams come true!”

  “Anyway, we managed to stay safe inside Wraithing Research Center. Military-grade walls and doors and all that,” she continued. “But the instant we went outside, there was a serious risk we’d get smeared. And that was a problem since, while our power generation capabilities were the envy of every other lab on planet Earth, we were missing some other important things. Like food.”

  “So, long story short, I suggested to Gramps that we dig underground and set up some hydroponic farms.” She tapped her temple. “I know, right? Little girl, big words, bigger brain. And a ‘talent for physics,’” she wheezed in a warbling voice.

  “No lies detected,” replied Proto. “Not to mention the Greatest Living Seer.”

  “Ain’t it the truth!” she exclaimed. “Anyway, he agreed with me, and he was in charge, so we got that set up. Which is good, because some of our people had been going on weekly food runs to some abandoned stores nearby. Canned goods and such. I was going to join them, but I switched to helping with the digging instead. Which is good because, soon afterward, some gang took over the neighborhood and, well, did a lot of awful things to people.”

  “So, yeah, we dug for a couple years,” she recalled. “One day, Gramps must’ve noticed something that I didn’t, because suddenly he was pulling me backward. And the ceiling fell right where I’d been standing. Saved my life!” She beamed.

  “He got all weepy-eyed about what could’ve happened to me. I called him Fuddy-Duddy and told him to stop worrying. And I might’ve maybe gotten a little weepy too. That night, I wished him goodnight the way I used to as a little girl. ‘Take a nap!’ I used to say, when I didn’t know how to say ‘go to sleep.’ I said that, and he smiled like I’d never seen him smile. He squeezed my hand. He went to sleep.”

  “And . . . he didn’t wake up the next morning.” Beneath her smile-dimpling eyes, Mercune had two trails of moisture now, glistening in the firelight. “So. That’s what happened. We weren’t in a very happy world in the end. But I think he had a happy ending. Don’t you?” She gazed earnestly at Proto, blinking a couple more tears out.

  He nodded twice, hoping his eyes conveyed what words could not.

  “And, most importantly, he didn’t have to see what happened to me.” Her voice broke, and a sob slipped out. She looked away and wiped her face. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”

  Proto’s own voice was a bit hoarse too. “Mercune, you—”

  “No, it’s fine! It’s not what you’re thinking.” She ran her finger beneath each eye, clearing her throat. “It’s not about me. I just—I saw a thousand futures. I saw what’d happen to him if I died. Somehow, I got the one future where I survived longer than him. Gramps got his happy ending. Then, just months later, I have the vision to end all visions—literally—and I go into a coma, and I end up here. I’m just glad it happened after Gramps went on his way. He had his happy ending, and I—well, I guess what I’m saying is, I’m blessed.” She looked upward and smiled.

  “He had his happy ending, and you . . . ?” Proto repeated slowly.

  “Well.” She glanced at him, then looked away. “As I said, not much left for me in Dubai! I . . . um. I got kind of depressed after Gramps passed. Sometimes, I just wanted to go upstairs, go outside, and let the world do what it would to me, as long as the sun was shining on it.”

  “But I’d think of Gramps, watching me from way up there, and that helped.” She looked wistfully at Heaven. “And I’d remember all those times you visited and—um.” She glanced at him and spoke no words. But the light, uncertain sliding of her fingers along his hand, and her earnest gaze, said all that needed saying.

  “Also.” Her cheeks curved up. “That wacky Wentsworth guy and that nice girl Uberta helped too. They’d come visit while I was sleeping, while I was missing Gramps and, um, others.” She glanced at him and squeezed his hand. “And they were so goofy, trying so hard to be nice. And maybe that was just enough to get me through!”

  “So, I’m happy to admit, I’ve done a 180 on you guys.” She looked a bit slaphappy, but also happy. “You’re not dreamstalkers. You make dreams come true! You’re like fairy godmothers.”

  “Fairy godmothers?” Proto shrugged, his lips curving up. “Technically, Anima’s got the fairies.”

  “Anima? Fairies? You’ll have to introduce me!” Mercune looked eager.

  “You look good in an Anima costume,” recalled Proto. “Red and purple wings, real flattering.”

  “What?” She tilted her head at him. “Anyway, I’d give you wings, but I can’t here. It feels like this whole place is someone else’s dream. And, whoever it is, he’s a very strong dreamer.”

  Proto looked awry at an empty seat by the bar, where a few glasses with green and brown residue were sitting. “I think I have a guess.”

  “Welp, introduce me to him too,” she urged. “Anyway, point is, I’ve got ninety-nine problems, but being here is not one of them! I’m actually happy how it worked out. Can’t say I’m missing Wraithing Research Center. I made it long enough to have my big vision and set them on the right course. Now, I’m out!”

  “About that. You had a vision, and you went into a coma, you said,” recalled Proto. “Where are you now?”

  “Me?” Mercune patted herself on the chest and beamed. “Heellllooo, Proto! Or did you mean my body? In a block of ice, I guess!”

  He blinked. “You don’t mean . . . ?”

  “Yup! Cryogenic hibernation,” she said. “I was still sort of half-conscious when they were talking about it. Buried waayyyy deep underground at Wraithing Research Center. Safe as safe can be. Fossil-powered! They kind of gave me the VIP treatment.” She shrugged with faux-modesty. “In short, my body’s not going anywhere.”

  “ . . . hm? What?” she asked, as Proto laughed at the irony.

  “Oh, nothing. Fate has a sense of humor,” he said. “Fate or Flua-Sahng. This was meant to be, wasn’t it?”

  “Excuse me?” She frowned. “I’m a bit perturbed how excited you are that I’m frozen, Proto!”

  He just laughed harder.

  “If you’re thinking of Mercune-is-frozen jokes, I suggest you think again!” She widened her eyes at him admonishingly. “Nothing about how I’m ‘feeling blue,’ or giving you the ‘cold shoulder,’ or how it’s a ‘tit bit nippy in here,’ please and thank you!”

  It took a moment for Proto’s laughter to die down. “What’s your favorite movie?”

  “What?” She blinked. “I’m sure you’ve guessed already. It’s Froz—heeyyyy.” She beamed. “Good point, Proto! Now I’m feeling even better about all this. This was meant to be!”

  “Our destiny is carved in ice,” declared Proto.

  Mercune giggled. “So, with that established, why don’t you explain to me why I’m here? And why this random guy I met once for ten minutes is waiting for me?”

  Proto stared a moment, trying to grasp what she was getting at. Surely she isn’t asking . . .

  She waited, tilting her head at him.

  His eyes widened. She doesn’t know?! He had to explain this?!