Chapter 18

Once upon a time, there was a girl, far from home...

Adora Gray sat in a bedroom that was not her own and watched the rain splatter against the glass. Through the window, she could just barely see her house.

“So, uh, yeah, this is where I’ve been staying,” Vee said, her hand rubbing against the back of her neck. The fact she looked identical to Adora was still giving Adora ... well, okay, actually, it was the tenth weirdest thing that had happened in the past jumbled twenty four hours. Adora smiled at her.

“It’s nice!”

It was a room that had once been crammed with old Cosmic Frontier memorabilia that had been hastily converted into a living space. There were still some shockingly racy Baivery posters on the wall – the famous Captain Avery/O’Bailey slash fiction that had kept the Cosmic Frontier fandom alive in the dark eras of the early 2010s, when the show had been off the air, the books had been unpopular, and everyone had begun to notice that the setting of the distant future of 2008 had been about two years ago.

Vee ... also known as Experiment Number V ... sighed.

She sat down on the bed next to Adora, her fingers touching together. “I didn’t mean to take over your life.”

“No, no, I get it,” Adora said, nodding.

Vee had been born in the laboratories of Emperor Belos – yet another one of that lunatic’s ideas to conquer and control and eventually destroy the Boiling Isles and magic. She had escaped with others of her kind – and had come upon the portal door that had let Adora into the demon realm. Slipping into the human realm and taking advantage of her inherent shapeshifting powers, she had taken Adora’s form and tried to hide out using her life.

It had been, in retrospect, a pretty unlucky choice.

In the awkward silence, Adora examined her twin sister. She could see a strange ... halfway state in her face, in her stance, in her eyes. Vee hunched and ducked her head forward, as if she was ready for a barbed word or a smack at any second. But she also had the littlest of smiles, and her eyes darted up to meet Adora’s.

“So, how long have you been living with Mrs. Noceda?” Adora asked.

“Well, um, about a week,” Vee said. “Basically, after I took over your life, um, your mom ... well...”

“She was my mom,” Adora said, sighing softly.

“And, uh, I was just crying and walking home from school and Mrs. Noceda stopped me. She asked me how I was doing and ... I just ... told her everything.” Vee drew her knees up against her chest, letting her bare feet rest on the bed. She tucked her chin against her knees. “She said that no one should be allowed to do that to anyone, even if they were their mom. So, she called Child Protective Services, and bothered the police, and-”

“Whoa, really?” Adora’s eyes brows shot up.

Vee blushed. “A ... And ... I ... kinda ... sorta...” She hesitated. “Shapeshifted to have broken ribs.”

Adora blinked.

“So, the cops arrested your mom. Sorry.”

Adora’s mouth opened, then closed.

Her mother had never, ever, ever actually hit her. She had withheld food a few times, especially when Adora had gained a pound or two. She had screamed once. But usually, it was all just words and expectations and a yawning pit in the depths of her soul, like nothing she’d ever do would be good enough. Ever.

“Dang, Vee,” Adora said, laughing, quietly. “That’s almost Catra-ian. In ... a complimentary way. I mean. Sneaky and clever! Not evil.”

The meow of annoyance that came from under foot drew both girl’s attention down.

Catra, still in the shape of an orange tabby cat, was glaring up at Adora. She planted both of her paws onto Adora’s shins and dug the claws in. The fact Adora was wearing jeans didn’t actually help as much as they shout. She yelped and jerked her legs up – and Catra bounded from where she had been to land on Vee’s lap, growling and yowling at them. Adora couldn’t speak cat, but she didn’t have too.

“Fine, fine, we’ll try and turn your back!” Adora said, and Catra stopped growling. Vee, her hands planted to either side of her hips, looked as if she was physically restraining herself from grabbing and petting Catra as much as she could.

The rainstorm continued apace outside, providing a quiet murmuring undercurrent to the rest of the house. Glimmer and Bow had taken the other guest room, and Camila was still downstairs with Amity and the little snakeshifter who had explained everything that had happened. Which was the number two weirdest thing that had happened in the past twenty four hours. Adora and Vee peeked around the stairwell corner, down at the kitchen, where the snakeshifter was still mewing and squeaking, wriggling around on the table like a noodle. Camila, holding a cup of coffee in her shaking hands, nodded and bit her lower lip, while Amity frowned and took notes on a pad.

The snakeshifter – Stringbean – stopped their chirruping and peered at Adora. Camila, whose eyes were red rimmed from her crying jag earlier in the day – looked up at them and smiled, weakly. “Come down, honies. We’re ... we definitely need a break for a bit.”

Adora nodded.

The girl wanted to do the right thing, but it was hard – she was surrounded on all sides by people who needed to help. She was alone, and she was scared, and she tried...

Adora, Camila, Amity, Catra, and Vee all sat around the table, Catra sitting on her haunches before Adora, licking the back of her paw in a regal sort of way. Camila wiped her eye with one finger, then sighed. “I-I suppose I should explain earlier,” she said, softly. “My ... husband and I always wanted a child.”

Adora nodded.

“But we ... never managed to have her.” Camila looked down at her hands. “We stopped trying. So, to hear that ... that I could have had a child. That I could have had my Luz.” She smiled, slightly. “That’s what we were going to name her – if she was a girl. If she was a boy, we would have gone for Vesper! Or Juan, we hadn’t picked.”

Adora nodded, slightly.

“And to hear she was so special too,” Camila said, looking down at Stringbean.

Stringbean chirruped and Catra meowed angrily, then pawed at him. Stringbean wriggled, then finally, sheepisly, began to squeak and warble. Adora’s brow furrowed.

“Wait, how did you survive?” she asked, realizing that the Palisman hadn’t even mentioned that, not in any point of his recounting of his adventures in that other realm, that other timeline. That place with the other Adora, the other Catra, the other Glimmer and other Bow. The place that Adora still couldn’t remember. Stringbean tucked her own head under her tail and warbled, softly.

“How can you not know?” Amity asked, frowning intently.

Squeak squeak!

“Hmm!” Amity rubbed her chin, thinking as she did so. “Maybe-”

The door to the kitchen opened and, with a squishing of soaked galoshes and raincoats a crinkling, Entrapta came into the house, carrying huge bags of groceries in her hands and her hair, beaming brightly. “Sustenance has been acquired! And we got tiny food this time, actually!”

“It’s was hard to get too,” the voice behind Entrapta was muffled by the hood – and then said hood was thrown back ... allowing Manny Noceda to step in and kiss his wife on the cheek. Camilia slid an arm comfortably around his hip, drawing him in, despite the fact he was still dripping wet from the rain outside. “But we managed to find something Entrapta here can eat.”

Catra hissed at him.

“Oh don’t you fret, she was thinking about your condition the whole time there,” Manny said, pursing his lips down at Catra.

“Uh, thank you, Mr. Noceda!” Amity said, clasping her hands together.

“Don’t mention it, Adora,” Manny said, chuckling. “Once you get used to the idea that magic is real, getting tiny food for a princess just seems normal.”

“I’m technically not a princess in this new timeline,” Entrapta said, looking around for a place to sit, then shrugging and hopping up onto the counter. She pulled out the first of the tiny cakes from the grocery bag and popped it into her mouth. As she chewed, she pointed at Stringbean, grunting in an authoritative way. Stringbean seemed to take her meaning – and shapeshifted into a replica of a large, complex looking rune carved in steel. As he rattled into place on the surface of the table, everyone leaned over, looking at it.

“This is one of those magical runes?” Camila asked, uncertainty.

“Yeah,” Amity said, sighing. “I studied some with Catra, but this is beyond me.”

“Oooh! This should have worked!” Entrapta said.

Everyone looked at her.

“But Stringbean said that the you in the other timeline said that there was a thirty percent chance of it failing,” Adora said.

“The other me wasn’t this me!” Entrapta said, blithely – she seemed to take the extremely unsettling idea of multiple timelines, copies, and alternate universes as casually as she took the fact that cross-universal subconscious magical communication (her phrase) had inspired the creation of an entire frigging TV show based on them. Adora was still not even thinking about that because it was simply too weird for her to deal with right now. Entrapta continued. “This me, the me right now, has been studying magic and the Golden Guard’s runes, and knows exactly why Luz Noceda’s attempt to return to her home went wrong!”

“ ... how did it go wrong?” Amity asked.

“There was a seventy percent chance that the portal would open and Etheria survives. End result? Luz gets home. There was a thirty percent chance that the portal would open and Etheria explodes! End result? Luz gets home!”

“And we all die,” Adora said.

“Yes!” Entrapta said. “But all runes are shaped by the intention of the caster when they’re activated. That’s how the fine tuned effects are created – Catra demonstrated that a lot! When she fought you! And tried to kill you! Many times!”

“Yes,” Adora said, while Catra growled softly, her fur bristling up.

Entrapta cocked her head. “So, obviously...?”

Everyone looked at her blankly. Then Amity gasped.

“ ... wait,” she said. “Are you saying we’re all here, in this world-”

“Because Luz shaped the rune to get everyone out of there!” Entrapta said, her hair snatching another small cupcake up and popping it into her mouth. She chewed on it happily, swallowed, then continued. “Transplanting an entire planetary population between multiple dimensions and across a lot of time took most of the rune’s energy. So it only got her halfway home – trapping her in the space between worlds, where she has been ever since.”

“Oh my god,” Camila whispered, hand going to her mouth.

“So ... our girl,” Manny said, slowly. “Our baby girl has been trapped there? For how long?”

Entrapta blinked. “I don’t know,” she said, then hesitated. “B-But she did survive! With only minor mental instabilities and godlike powers.”

Camila and Manny looked at one another, their faces set and determined in equal measures.

“Well. How are we going to help her, then?” Camilia asked.

“I don’t know!” Entrapta said. “But this rune is a good place to start. We just need a power source. Magic enough to blow through the dimensional barries – akin to titan’s blood, or something of equal power. But first, more tiny food. I’m starving.”

As she took more food from the bags, Adora leaned back in her chair. “No. First things first ... we have to fix Catra. If we’re going to be doing anything, we need Catra.”

Catra purred smugly.

Amity crossed her arms over her chest. “Yeah,” she said. “For one thing, she needs to have a mouth so she can apologize. To me.” She glared at the orange tabby. It was then, at that evening, in the Noceda’s house, that Adora saw a miracle on par with Jesus splitting the loaves or walking on water.

A cat that looked ashamed.

“Well, lets try magic,” Amity said, then stood up, her chair scraping. She lifted her hand, her fingers glowing as she frowned and focused. She drew a circle of shimmering purple light in the air, her brow furrowing. The magic flashed and a pink light surrounded Catra – then cracked apart into a spray of sparkles, sloughing onto the table and skittering away. Adora shook her head slowly.

“It needs more power,” Amity said, while Stringbean wriggled, then flew over to land on Adora’s shoulder.

“Titan-Ra could do it,” Entrapta said. “Based on my off the cuff observations.”

“But ... the sword’s broken,” Adora said. “A-And...”

Her hand went to her chest. She felt the familiar panic-tightness of her lungs, squeezing her. She half closed her eyes.

“I ... I don’t have a bile sack,” she whispered.

She tried to not feel the stinging of tears at the corners of her eyes. But it was impossible to not feel a spike of rage and anger and loss so intense that it made her hands shake – her mother had ripped out a part of her, without even asking, without even checking. Her whole youth, her childhood, all of it had been built on her body being twisted without her even knowing the case. How many broken bones had she gotten because her witch-born self had been deprived of the nutrients and vitamins and the magic that she had been born deserving to get?

“Well, try, maybe?” Amity asked, her voice nervous.

“By the Honor of Grayskull,” Adora said. She didn’t even need to finish saying it to know it wasn’t going to work. She dropped her hand, then sagged and then shook her head. “I ... I need to think.” She stood up and walked away from the table before anyone stopped her. Distantly, she heard Camila saying – well, it is late – and then she was in her room. Well. Vee’s room. She closed the door and leaned against it, knowing that Vee would be up here, to use the bed, while she slept on the futon that Mrs. Noceda had pulled out.

Adora just...

She just needed a few minutes alone to figure this out. To feel all the things she was feeling. She closed her eyes, resting her head against the door and breathing slowly.

Now, we need to help her – not just for her, but for everyone. To save the world...

The soft cheep cheep of Stringbean’s voice caused Adora’s eyes to open. The little snakeshifter had wriggled under the door and had hopped up onto her knees. Adora smiled, weakly. She reached down and petted Stringbean’s head. “You’re a good Palisman,” she said. “You know ... I bet you ended up in this world, because Luz knew that you had to be safe. Belos ate Palismans for food, didn’t he?”

Stringbean squeaked and nodded, emphatically.

Adora sighed.

“I can’t do it,” she whispered. “I...”

Stringbean chirruped.

“No, I have to do it alone,” Adora said. “I can’t take Amity in there, to get hurt-”

Stringbean squeaked, then bumped her head against Adora’s other knee – aggressively.

Adora flushed. “With Catra? You want me to ... to not just zap her back to human, er, uh, cat-demon form, you want me to make up with her? Because ... in...” She trailed off. She had been about to say in both worlds, she was evil. But that wasn’t true. Was it. Catra had told Luz to not use the rune. She had, for a fleeting moment, seen someone else as more important than her. And if that Catra could ... could this Catra?

... she already did...

Adora put her hands over her face, rubbing. “She’s loyal to Belos.”

Stringbean squeaked.

“ ... loyal to someone else?” she asked. “Who? She was willing to kill me, cause-”

Stringbean chirruped and rolled his big expressive eyes.

“Lilith!?” Adora blinked. Then she put together everything she had seen. She clicked her tongue. “Huh. You’re right. Lilith was like her ... adoptive mom.” She bit her lip, starting to see a path. A tactical and emotional route towards not just victory, but towards everything that victory could promise. Love. Happiness. Friendship. She blushed and nodded as she did so ... and tripped over the first step. “But I can’t. I’m not Titan-Ra anymore. I’m just ... I’m just some magicless witch. No bile sack. Useless.”

Stringbean focused.

The mental image was of Luz Noceda, in her horde costume, looking up at someone in awe, her eyes shining. She looked like Amity had, upon seeing Adora in the form of Titan-Ra. It was a view of a girl that could be quite addicting, something that Adora felt chagrined at how ... intensely she appreciated. Then Stringbean shifted to a tiny Catra. She smiled up at Adora, and then twirled on one foot, bowing low.

Adora sighed, then reached down, touching the tiny Catra on her tiny head.

“Make it count,” Stringbean said, aloud.

Adora blinked. “What?”

Stringbean jumped. She flew up and landed right between Adora’s breasts, transforming mid flight into his sleek snakeshifter form. Stringbean pressed to Adora’s shirt, then wriggled beneath. Skin to skin, the Palisman glowed – and then vanished. Adora felt something thump deep inside of her chest. She grunted, then clutched at herself. She gasped and trembled, her fingers tightening as she closed her eyes. The pain was intense and shocking, growing hotter and redder. It was like the worst heart burn she had ever had, a throbbing ache deep inside of herself. She gasped out once more ... then felt the pain recede. Moment by moment, it lessened, until there was only a dull ache. She stood, her knees shaking, as she patted around herself, looking around.

“S ... Stringbean?” she whispered.

But they were gone.

They were gone.

What had the Palisman done? What had-

Adora’s hand trembled. She lifted it up ... and then focused.

And a spark of brilliant gold shimmered at the tip of her finger. The magic swelled within herself and she swirled her finger in a slow circle ... and yanked forth a glittering sword of pure silvery light. She grasped the new Sword of Power, feeling its heft, its weight – deep in her chest, her bile sack throbbed and she stood there, her eyes glimmering with tears.

Make it count.

Adora closed her eyes.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “I will. I will, Stringbean.”