//------------------------------// // Chapter 1: Ruins and Butterflies // Story: Little Problems // by Starscribe //------------------------------// “I wanna go!” Avery heard the squeaking voices of the other breezies in the air above her, each one of them braver and more imposing than she was. April was brave enough to fly right up into Julian’s face, where even a friendly giant was still dangerous. Even if he had been their friend, before all this. She didn’t even bother calling for him. Yes, she wanted to be the one he took. Yes, she would be disappointed if he didn’t choose her. But she didn’t really see the point in shouting for him. Avery sat on the edge of the birdhouse she lived in with half the current population of their little camp, clutching her satchel close to her with one hoof and trying not to let her sisters step on her wings in their eagerness to get out. Julian stood just ahead of them, wearing one of the outfits they’d scavenged from the ruins. Sturdy fabric, well suited to keep him dry if it rained again today. But he had that luxury—he was big enough to wear the clothes of this extinct pony civilization. A single jacket would’ve been plenty big enough to cover Avery and all her sisters and have plenty of room to spare. “I’m very flattered,” he said, retreating a step from the little buzzing cloud of fairies. He was just a pegasus, three and a half feet tall, yet to them he was a towering giant. Avery wasn’t afraid of him, not like she had been on that first day she woke up this size. The first day any of them did. She only felt sad when she thought about the difference between them, and the relationship they could never have. The Event had taken much from the world—what little it gave, it also found ways to steal. “But I need Avery today. There are lot of locked doors in this building, and she’s the only one who can get them open.” Avery felt herself grin involuntarily. She rose to her hooves, antennae tasting the air as she tried to make herself more visible on the edge of the birdhouse. She waved out at him with one hoof, though at this distance the ground was a distant blur and Julian himself was more of an outline. There was no way he’d hear her through the crowd. “Julian! I’m down here!” There was no mistaking which of them he wanted, not with a request like that. Breezies were all magic, but only one of them had a unicorn horn. Her, with her tiny black glasses, her braid of blue mane, and near inability to fly. She heard the general disappointment from the other fairies, with April chief of all. “You don’t have to just take one. We could still go with you.” Julian shook his head. “I’m sorry guys, but I can’t keep track of more than one of you at a time. If I misplaced you, and I accidentally stepped on you or something… I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.” “But she’s supposed to be doing research!” moaned someone else. Posy, based on that bright tan coat and the tiny notebook in her forelegs. She never went anywhere without it. “She’s the only one who can make you proper-sized! She should stay back and work! You should just salvage somewhere else!” Julian brushed her aside with a gentle flick of his feathered wings, which produced enough wind that the other breezies around him were driven back. There was plenty of space around him, so none were smacked into trees or bushes. Such an accident might very well be fatal for creatures as fragile as they were. “I’m sorry, everyone. I’m sure you’ll get lots done today in the colony while I’m gone.” He stepped up to the birdhouse. It had been attached quite firmly to the trunk of a tree, just like several others. They’d talked about connecting them with bridges, but for now everyone just flew. Even though Avery’s flight was so weak she could barely get up to sleep every night. Or into her workshop, even further up. Julian knew this, even if the other breezies didn’t seem to care. He extended a hoof to her, and Avery scrambled up onto it, scurrying up the fur of his leg until she rested beside his shoulder. The pony was so big compared to her that even her clumsy hooves could grip his fur and holding onto him was easy. Not to mention the warmth of his body felt great on such a chilly spring day. Avery didn’t look back at the disappointed group of breezies she knew they would be leaving behind, just clung to him as they walked away and kept her wings folded as tightly as she could. Even the force of walking generated enough motion that she might get swept up and off him if she wasn’t careful. There had once been nothing but shriveled white fungus, with fruiting bodies towering taller than a pony with soggy green caps. All that had been swallowed now, consumed by the jungle. Trees with species she couldn’t name were already growing taller than the giant Julian, some of which had leaves bigger than she was. Julian remained silent as they walked away from Formenos. The others would still be listening at this distance, and a giant’s voice would carry far. But she could taste his relief on the air, and see it in his glance. Julian had been waiting a long time to choose her for another salvage mission. He had to, as to not give the other breezies the impression he was playing favorites. He stopped suddenly as a songbird twice Avery’s size flitted up to them, a cardinal with bright red feathers. He stopped to hover a few inches from Avery—but she felt no fear. Her magic had helped create this little oasis of life in a sea of white death. Every creature who came here to find shelter seemed to recognize that, and treated them with respect. Not one of them had been eaten, or even threatened by an animal. The bird gave a few polite chirps, then flew off to the nest he seemed to be building in a nearby tree. Julian visibly relaxed as the bird flew away, settling his huge wing against his back. “I keep thinking the next one is going to attack you for sure,” he said, in his unusually deep and slow voice. Avery was mostly used to it by now—though fixing it was one of the many things keeping her motivated in her research. “Not in our forest,” she said, or nearly shouted, up towards his ear. Ponies had pretty good hearing, though, and he could hear her well enough from that close. Presumably she would sound high-pitched and pathetic to him now. “These animals are grateful to us. They know if it wasn’t for us the fungus would come back and kill everything.” It was a price worth paying. We’re both still alive. “I don’t think animals are that smart,” Julian said. They were nearing the old village—the ruins where they’d both returned. Avery knew they’d pass the old crashed car if they turned down the nearby street. They didn’t though, and kept walking past the pony houses up towards main street. The strange ecology of their growing forest had now begun to creep up on the pony ruins. The city’s paved streets were cracking and covered with creeping moss. Seedlings burst through the dried brown husk of what had once been healthy fungus. Murderous, mind-controlling fungus, which had nearly killed both of them in its way. Now, at least here, they’d gotten their revenge. “Where are we going today?” Avery asked, not arguing the point with him. In truth, she didn’t understand breezie magic that well, and wasn’t the one who could’ve explained it. That was Emily, and she was one of the few who hadn’t wanted to come on this trip. She never left the forest anymore. “Somewhere with lots of locks…” “There’s a bank,” Julian muttered. “I’m not sure what the point of it is, though. I’m sure we won’t need it to build Formenos. Unless you want to build the next house out of gold.” “Tempting,” Avery muttered, though it was completely untrue. Building a house out of something hostile giants might want to steal was a bad idea. “I think… I think I wanted to rob a bank before the Event. Now I finally can!” Julian reached down with one hoof, nudging her very gently. He had to stop walking to do it, obviously. “No you didn’t. You were basically a boy scout—I don’t think I even saw you cut in line.” Avery looked away. Whenever they disagreed about something in the past, Julian was almost always right. His memory hadn’t been badly damaged by transformation like hers had. “Oh. Well… I want to rob a bank!” She fluttered into the air for a few seconds—a brave showing for her, considering they’d left the protection of the forest. She settled back onto her perch as quick as she could. Before an errant breeze could take her away. “Mostly I wanted to talk to you without the others making it impossible to think,” Julian muttered, trying to keep his voice quiet. He tried, but he still boomed louder than she could when she was screaming. Still, they were far enough from Formenos that it was probably safe. “I know I don’t get to very often. It seems like they keep you prisoner in that lab, and it’s too small for me to come visit.” The ‘lab’ he meant was really just a doll house he had found in one of the ruined houses, which now held lots of her magical tinkering and all the pre-Event stuff small enough for her to use. Avery spent most days there, with whichever breezy had upset April the most lately banished there as her helper. Avery lifted into the air again, flying up towards his face. It took a little courage—even if she trusted and wasn’t afraid of him, he was still many times her size. His nose was so large she could land on it if she wanted, and those eyes were bigger than she was. “What about when I finish? Will you visit me then?” She glowered, looking away from him. “Never, I bet. You’ll be too busy spending time with April and Posy and—Eeeep!” Something snatched her out of the air. A wing, which Julian moved so delicately that she never felt crushed. Each feather was so big she could see the little veins in each one, see the almost neon green as sunlight shone through them. He moved for a few seconds, and then suddenly she felt herself falling onto something made of cement. Avery squealed in surprise as she fell three whole body lengths—a height that easily could’ve broken bones or worse when she was human. But Avery wasn’t human anymore, and falls just didn’t hurt the way they used to. She landed with a light thump on the top of a huge, round cement sphere. She grumbled, straightening her wings and righting herself, and looking around. She was standing on a decorative part of a large fence, one that put her at about head level for Julian. He seemed annoyed today, or at least he smelled annoyed. Avery wasn’t sure how much of her antennae’s information she could trust without someone else’s antennae to touch and find out for sure. Julian didn’t have those. “Avery, don’t be like this. You know I still care about you. I hate it when you talk like that.” Avery glared stubbornly back up at him. “I know you’ve got a baker’s dozen of us to choose from and every one of the others is prettier than me!” Julian flicked her with a wing. “Quit it. You’re already tiny, acting pitiful doesn’t help.” She staggered forward, but managed to stay standing. It was amazing how something so big could be so gentle with her—no doubt it would be trivial for Julian to learn forward and crush her if he wanted. He could fly now—better and better every day. Even Formeno’s fastest flyer, Janet, couldn’t outfly a real pegasus. But I have my magic. I’m not helpless! She almost never used her magic on other ponies. Breezies were so delicate that she could easily hurt them by accident. She had only been small a few months, and was still working out how to adjust. So far as she knew she was the only breezy in existence with unicorn magic, so even her manual didn’t have advice. “Are you saying I’m wrong?” she finally asked. She glanced around, and found a little acorn on the edge of the fence, about a hundred subjective feet away. She levitated it towards them easily, setting it down in front of her and resting one hoof on it. “Admit it! When I work this out, I won’t see you again.” “No.” He glared right back, stubborn. “That isn’t true. I know what you’re gonna say… and no, I’m not going to never spend time with any of the others either. That would be just as wrong as never seeing you. You’re all from the same place, Avery. Our old world… we have to stick together. The world’s too dangerous to cut anyone off. It wouldn’t be right.” He hesitated, reaching out again and running a careful hoof along her wings. “Is that why… you haven’t been studying transformation spells yet? Because you think once you figure them out, I won’t spend time with you anymore?” She didn’t answer—though the former part wasn’t true, she did genuinely believe the latter. “Avery.” He yanked the acorn out from under her hoof. It had already started to sprout from her attention, a little green shoot emerging from within. He tossed it down to the ground, where it might have a chance. “Listen to me. If you figure out this magic, so I don’t have to be giant compared to everyone else in my world, I promise to spend at least one day with you a week. I want more… you know you’re my favorite. But if I give you more, the others will riot. One day is already more than I should promise.” Avery couldn’t help herself. This wasn’t just some random pony to her—and it wasn’t just the big pony who protected her and the rest of Formenos. Julian was a pony she loved so much she’d faced down a god. And survived to tell about it. In a manner of speaking. She hugged his hoof as affectionately as she could. Which probably wasn’t much, since she couldn’t even get her legs around it. “I have been working,” she said, when she finally let go. “I’ve been studying almost as hard as I did when I tried to cure you.” “Really?” Julian’s ears perked up, and he leaned a little closer to her. Without realizing it he also got louder, causing her to cower, pressing her ears to her head and whimpering in protest. “Sorry. But… what have you learned? Are you close? I know we’ll probably still need me to be myself for a while yet—we need to be sure we have all the supplies Formenos will need, since it will be so much harder after I change… what have you figured out?” Avery took a deep breath, clutching the little satchel slung across her shoulder. Mostly for comfort—the manual was the only real possession she had. She treated it with as much care as she would have a little breezie of her own, and sometimes she could swear the book was feeling affection towards her in return. “I learned that permanent transformation is Alicorn magic—it’s impossible. Buuuuuuuuuuut—” she hastily added, once she saw his expression falling. “But there’s a loophole. I could make a… a charm. That way the magic would be targeting the charm—as long as you wore it, you’d be a breezie like us. It wouldn’t even have to be that big…” Julian leaned closer to her, expression eager and volume so intense she stumbled away from him. “Are you almost finished? Do you think you’ll be done today? Or maybe tomorrow? That sounds perfect!” “Hey!” Avery’s horn glowed briefly, and she shoved Julian away. Her push was enough to cause him to stumble back a few steps. It shocked her every time it worked, but she was strong enough to push him. For the same reason she couldn’t use her magic on other breezies. “It’s not that simple. Transformation is really hard. Easier than curing a fungus infection… but not easy. It needs things we don’t have. Raw ingredients. They won’t be easy to find. I… haven’t been brave enough to ask you.” Julian shook himself out, taking a moment to recover from her shove. But it hadn’t been meant to hurt, and its effects didn’t last for long. “What are they?” “Well…” She took a deep breath. “We need something long and sturdy, something that won’t corrode or rust or decay. But it has to be strong too, since if you break it by accident the spell will end and that could kill people.” If he was trapped somewhere small, he’d almost certainly die while he was growing back to normal, not to mention anyone else stuck with him. “Like rope? No, rope decays. Wire?” She nodded. “I was thinking of a metal necklace. Then we need some quartz crystal, a soldering iron, some gold and lead and pewter…” She trailed off, looking downcast. “See what I mean? I don’t know how good our chances are for making it.” “What if we couldn’t?” Julian asked, approaching the fence again, but careful to keep his voice down this time. “If you can make it into a charm, you could still cast it normally, right? Just not permanently?” “Well… yeah.” She looked away. “But casting is harder than enchanting. When I’m making an enchantment, I can take my time. No pressure, no rush. If I screw up part of it, I just start over. Nobody notices because we don’t put magic into the spell until it’s finished. But a casting is live—if I screw up a transformation, I could turn you into…” She whimpered. “Dead. I could turn you into dead.” “Well.” Julian scooped her up again, depositing her back onto her usual place on his shoulder. “Forget the bank. I think I know where we can look for some of that stuff. There’s a jewelry store.” He set off at a brisk walk, about as fast as he could go without risking throwing her off. “It seemed like a waste of time. But maybe I was wrong.” Avery concentrated on holding on mostly—she needed to keep clinging to him when they were outside of the jungle and he was in such a rush. She did notice their old shelter as they passed it—one of the many similar looking two-story pony houses they had found abandoned in a village covered with thick fungus. The jungle killed all of that as it grew closer, but the once-living fungal growth had been transformed into something shriveled and brown, that Julian had to chip off of doors and windows with his hooves if they wanted to get into any of the ruins. If she’d been a giant and the growth hadn’t covered everything, it might’ve been a nice place to live. But fate had stolen that chance from her—or rather, she’d given it away in trade. A worthwhile trade, but seeing this charming village always made her a little depressed. They could’ve fixed this place up together, back then. The ponies who had lived here had been surprisingly modern. Their abandoned homes were almost intact, with only the most essential camping and travel supplies missing. There had been no looters before them. Eventually they reached the jewelry store, which Avery could identify thanks to the way even this advanced pony culture liked putting out huge models of the things they were selling. There was a jewel-encrusted necklace on the sign, along with prominent writing in a language they couldn’t read. There were translation spells in the manual, just like there were spells for everything. But they worked using an existing speaker as a template, borrowing their knowledge. Language divorced of anyone who spoke it was as impossible to read for them as it would’ve been for any other archaeologists. “Locked,” Julian muttered, gesturing at the door. “So we won’t have to lie when we get back. We can tell them that we needed your magic.” He scooped her off his shoulder again, holding her out on one hoof a few inches from the knob. The metal was covered with dry, brown fungus, but didn’t look damaged at least. Avery reached out with a hoof, scraping some of it off the metal and looking at her own tiny, frightened reflection. She levitated the satchel open, and lifted the tiny survival guide out beside her. Its cover was even more scratched and dented than it had been the day she got it, though it was surviving its new small size remarkably well. “Hey, manual. Can you turn to the knock spell again?” The book flipped rapidly through pages, settling on a fairly simple incantation. “Looks like it should be easy!” Avery shouted up. “Apparently it doesn’t do wood, but this is a steel lock, so that won’t be a problem.” “You made that up. There’s no way it says that.” It didn’t, though Avery couldn’t remember why she’d said it. Something…  they had watched… once. No sooner had she thought about it than it was gone, like dew melting before the rising sun. Casting the spell took a few seconds of concentration, but nothing Avery couldn’t manage. Ever since she’d woken up in this new world, magic had been the one thing that still made sense to her. The door clicked open. The interior of this shop was the first she’d seen that did look like it was broken into. Julian walked gingerly over shards of broken glass, slowing a little as he crossed a series of empty display cases. A large window on the other side of the store had been broken into, and that opening had been used by some previous visitor to get in. Julian stopped in front of a mannequin that had gone brown and started growing a variety of mundane mushrooms from its base. “What do we need exactly?” he asked, brushing the dust from a storage bag of some kind near the wall, and dumping it out. File folders and papers went scattering about from where he tipped it. He set the bag out on an empty table, brushing off the last of the dust with a wing. “Not more than would fit in here, right?” “No,” Avery muttered, though the bag looked so big to her she wasn’t really sure. Every breezie in Formenos could fit in there with plenty of room to spare, though they wouldn’t be comfortable while they did it. She went over the ingredients. They found several of the tools they needed in the back of the store. Looters had been far less interested in the soldiering setup, complete with a fairly complex hoof-mount that even a non-unicorn could use to control it if they wanted. “We’ll need to get some power back up,” Julian said as he hefted the whole thing into the bag. “We can’t just plug this thing into a tree. I think I saw a generator another few stores over…” “Kari knows about that stuff,” Avery interrupted. “You can work with her to get that part working. I don’t remember electricity. Go back in there and grab the solders. I think there were spools of raw material in there.” He took them back into the storage room, over an overturned bookshelf that had strewn gigantic books all over the floor. There was already a hole in the ceiling, and where rain had gotten in the whole thing was transforming into a pulpy mess. “How long do you think it’s been since ponies lived here?” Julian asked, as he stepped into the workshop and began opening drawers. “It feels like… centuries. Like one of those fallout games.” “Maybe a decade?” Avery corrected. Whenever she saw something that looked useful, she would grab it out of the drawer with her magic. A coil of gold solder heavier than she was soon levitated beside them, along with a few bags of small gemstones and crystals. We don’t have to use quartz. We could use diamond instead. “No way.” Julian grabbed each of the objects she chose from the air, shoving them into the waiting cargo bag. “Everything is coming apart! That takes ages!” “Not as many as you think.” “Why not?” Avery opened her mouth to reply—and found she couldn’t. She was sure of what she was saying, as she always was around Julian. But she couldn’t remember why. “I dunno. Ask… April. She’ll know.” “Whatever.” Julian made it a few steps further into the gloom. The hole in the ceiling was far enough back that there was only a faint glow illuminating this innermost room. “Can you do that light thing?” She did the light thing, casting the whole room in even gray. There was a shelf of little safety-deposit boxes, all broken-into and empty. At the far end of the hall was a steel safe, one that looked like someone had fought very hard to tamper with it. There were huge metal chunks taken out around the door, and the handle sat broken on the floor in front of them. “Well someone thought there was something good in there.” Julian walked right up to the safe, inspecting the wheel. There were five hundred hair-fine little tick marks on it, which were easily visible at Avery’s size. No keyhole at all. “Do you think your spell would work on this?” Avery fluttered off his shoulder and down to the lock. It was a little less dangerous indoors, when she didn’t have to worry about being swept away. She landed delicately on the wheel, resting her hooves on the grooves meant to give a pony grip with their hoof. She shoved, and the whole thing lurched forward a single tick mark. She wasn’t going to be able to open this. “No,” she said, without hesitation. “No key. It’s a different kinda mechanism—the book talks about them. Locks you can make that unicorns can’t crack. Makes sense… a third of all ponies are unicorns. You don’t want us to be able to steal your stuff.” Julian sat down on his haunches, looking down at her. “We still didn’t find a good necklace, just a bunch of loose stuff. How are we gonna break it open?” Avery wanted to give up. But Julian’s eagerness was obvious—he wanted her to start today. And some part of that was flattering. A day a week with him if I can get in. “There’s… another kind of magic I could try,” she muttered, lifting her book into the air beside her and sitting down on the mechanism. Her back was to the steel of the safe—uncomfortably chill, but she wouldn’t be here long. “A teleport. Short-range teleports work by…” She stuck her hoof into the page. “Right there, manual! That’s good.” She brought it closer, so she could read. “They work according to mass.” “Easy then!” Julian exclaimed. “You’re a unicorn’s worth of magic and only a few grams of mass! You could pop right in there!” “I… could…” she hesitated. “But what if it’s full? I’d get squished like a… like a bug.” She grinned weakly up at him, but he didn’t return the feeling. “Oh. If it’s dangerous, I change my mind. I don’t want you to do anything that’s too risky.” Avery skimmed forward a few more pages. “I could try teleporting something small and delicate first, like… some leaves. That’s what I’ve been practicing with back at the village. If they don’t come out crushed, then I could go in after them.” “Oh, great idea!” Julian sat up. “I’ll be right back, I’ll go get some!” He didn’t wait for her response, just turned and galloped out of the cavernous jeweler’s shop. A shop made for giants, that had been rotting for at least a decade. Avery felt the whole building settling around her. The wood and stone shifted audibly, and she could hear a sudden, gnawing sound through the wall. Avery squeaked pitifully, taking to the air and scrunching her legs tight to her body. She spun around, keeping herself far away from the walls. She barely even noticed the gigantic spider dropping down from above her. Not until one of its legs brushed against her, and it sprang for her neck. Spiders were heavy things, their flesh rough and hard like the body of a rusty old car. A pair of fangs half as long shot down towards her unprotected skin, oblivious of her feeble, kicking legs. She looked up, horrified at the swollen, pale creature. Not like any spider she’d known from before the Event, but one that must be at least eight true inches across, with white flesh and greenish fluids underneath. Exactly like the fungus. It’s one of the tenders. “No!” Avery squealed, channeling all the magic energy she could reach into the body of the spider. The resulting bang sent her staggering back in the air, bouncing up against the wall a few times. The first impact was enough to bruise her right through to the exoskeleton, or whatever the hard layer under her fluff and skin was called. “Damnit.” She finally righted herself in the air, searching for the spider. Why was the room so bright all of a sudden? Because there was a fresh hole in the wall, just above the safe. A little greenish ichor had smeared on the sides of the wall, leading down to a single leg. Evidently it had fallen there, still twitching. Of the rest of the spider, there was no sign. Julian emerged a few seconds later, panting from a run. He clutched a few leaves in his mouth, no doubt brought all the way from their jungle. “What… the hell was that?” he said, dropping them to fall to the ground in front of her. Avery swooped down on him almost as fast as the spider. “You abandoned me!” she squeaked. “You abandoned me, and I had to fight a monster all alone! I was THIS BIG!” she made the biggest, widest gesture with her hooves she could. Julian wilted, looking away. “I… of course, Avery. I’m sorry! I just…” He trailed off, looking up at the hole in the brick wall, and the sunlight coming in from outside. “It… it looks like the monster got the worse end of the fight. Is that a leg?” “It’s got seven more,” Avery muttered, landing on the ground beside one of the leaves. Not that she really thought the huge ugly thing would be coming back. If it had hit hard enough to break brick, it wasn’t still alive. Shouldn’t it have just squished against the wall? There were still things about her magic she didn’t understand A few minutes of testing later, and Avery popped back into existence on the other side of several inches of steel. She brought a little bang of air, just in case there wasn’t any in here. Immediately she felt claustrophobic—the safe had two shelves, both heavily packed with little paper envelopes. There weren’t papers in them, though—they were lumpy and uneven, each one deformed differently by the jewels they contained. There was an ear-splitting bang from above her, then another. She covered her ears, waiting for it to stop. “I’m safe!” she shouted back, as loudly as she could. Hopefully it would be loud enough for Julian to hear. Just to be safe, she levitated a coin up from beside her, and smacked it against the steel a few times. Good enough. Avery didn’t waste time searching, that would take too long. Instead, she clambered over the stacks of envelopes, touching any that were big and heavy and teleporting them through the wall. She made more and more room as she worked, until only little marked packets of gemstones and fine pieces of jewelry remained with her. But the glow from her horn was getting weaker now, her magic drained. Avery had strange powers for a breezie, but she was still a breezie. Being locked in a metal box far from her forest would squeeze her out like a sponge before too long. She closed her eyes, concentrating on the return trip—and for a few terrible seconds, it seemed she didn’t have the strength. She whimpered, took a few breaths—and popped back to the other side. She flopped onto her back on the pile of paper envelopes, spreading herself and breathing heavily. “Th-that’s… that’s it…” she muttered, hoping Julian would hear her. He sat only feet away, watching with concern. He’d brought the bag over while she worked, though hadn’t touched the teleportation area as she instructed. It would be too easy for him to get hurt by mistake if he tried to load while she robbed. “That’s… that’s everything you’re getting out of me today,” she finally said, feeling a blush creep across her cheeks. He was looking up at her, and she was only wearing the bag—he’d been staring at her. She quickly rolled onto her belly, lowering her tail self-consciously between her legs. Doesn’t matter, he didn’t see. He doesn’t care. “You get to carry me back,” she declared, though she sounded too weak to enforce what she was saying. “I used all my magic right up stealing today.” Julian nodded, working quickly to load the rest of the envelopes inside. They jingled and rustled with more money’s worth of gold and jewels than Avery had ever known in her human life. A life she barely even remembered. But I should. It hasn’t been that long. Julian set her into the bag last, after he had slung it around his shoulder. Avery rested her hindlegs on the pile of junk, propping her forelegs over the zipper and staring at the world as It went by. She felt tired—but that would change. Once she got back within the borders of the jungle, her energy would return. It always did. Julian didn’t slow down until they reached the wreck of Avery’s car. The front bumper had completely caved in from where Julian had smashed into a building. Dry, dead fungus covered it, from the days before. Even Julian looked small as they approached it, with the door handle just a little below his eye level. The smooth, polished metal looked supremely unfriendly to Avery’s tiny eyes. It smelled awful—the oil was starting to leak, and her breezie antennae did not like the smell of oil. “Hard to believe it’s only been four months,” Julian muttered, sliding one hoof around to the handle. He didn’t actually open it, though. What would be the point? It couldn’t drive anymore. It hadn’t moved since the crash, and never would again. “Hard to believe we used to be so gigantic,” Avery responded. “You could fit a thousand of me in there.” “Not that many…” Julian muttered. He lowered his voice a little more, solemn. “How much do you remember, Avery?” “Enough!” she snapped back, before he could realize. Though in reality, the answer was different. “I remember studying. Lots and lots of studying. And being big.” She cursed under her breath at how unconvincing she sounded, but it was too late now. “I remember everything,” Julian said, after a long silence. “Like the crash.” And in that moment, Avery found that she could, too.