//------------------------------//
// Chapter 16: Songs, Dance, and Cardboard Boxes 
// Story: Partial 
// by Halira 
//------------------------------//

Jessica sat, staring at the most recent box she had brought into her new apartment. She should be up and grabbing more, but she couldn't seem to muster the will. 

Dusk brought in another box and set it down in a corner, then gave her a worried look. "Are you going to be okay?" 

Robby and Nightscape came through the door, team lifting with their wings a box that Dusk or Jessica could have carried by themselves, not because it was too heavy, but because neither of them could properly grip it using their wings. It was also too big and bulky to carry ponyback. 

"Give her time to process, bro," Robby instructed as he and his wife set the box down. "It was shocking news, and she cares a lot about that little kid."

"Maybe you should call Dad and talk to him about it," Dusk suggested. 

"I'm sure either Jordan or one of those bodyguards is doing that now," Jessica said as she forced herself to stand up and get out of her funk. 

"You know what it means when you assume," Dusk reminded her. 

"Yeah, I know," Jessica replied. Would one of them call her Dad or social services? It made sense to her, but it wasn't always wise to count on sense when dealing with the Dreamwardens' aides. 

She pulled her phone out and dialed her Dad's number. Her brothers and Nightscape decided to take a break so they could watch and listen. They probably needed it. Since the call from Jordan, the three of them had been doing the bulk of the work while she sat on her ass, even though she was physically the strongest and would have the easiest time lifting things. 

"Hey, Jessie. I just clocked out and was going to head your way. Calling to check how Mark is?" her dad asked as he came on the speaker. 

"Yes…no…yes," she fumbled. She took a deep breath. "How is he?"

"It took a little longer than I'd have liked to get him settled in. I still wouldn't say that he is, but he at least wasn't hiding by the time I left. Showing him his room seemed to help some. We brought over a lot of his old stuff, which should make things more familiar. It's a good home, and there's a pony there that's only a year older than him that I think he'll get along with once he starts trusting a little more. Wishing Well is very good-natured and social," her dad answered. 

Jessica wasn't sure all his old stuff being there would make him feel better. If it were her in that position, she would have taken that as a reminder she wasn't returning to the home she knew. Then again, Mark wasn't her, so maybe her dad was right. 

"Dad, did you or your office get a call from Jordan, one of the Dreamwardens, Tempest, Crystal, or anyone associated with them?" she asked. 

"No…I sure didn't," her dad answered slowly. "The office would have contacted me for sure if they did. Why would we be getting a call from any of them?" 

Jessica licked her lips. "Tempest and a few other Dreamwarden bodyguards showed up at Wabash Manor today. Jordan says they're trying to track down and break up a human trafficking ring. They were asking specifically about Mark."

"That's a big claim to make, although I'm sure they must have some evidence if they are saying it," her dad replied. "That also doesn't sound like a typical Dreamwarden or OMMR case."

"I got the impression that this is not official. They aren't supposed to be involved with this," Jessica said.

"That would be why they didn't contact me or the office. We'd have to report it to the federal authorities. They'd immediately start asking why they didn't contact the feds themselves and why they are dealing with this instead of letting the proper people take care of it. I'm guessing they have a reason they aren't. It's good that you called me after I got off work. Otherwise, I'd have to report it. I may still."

Jessica's ears sagged. "Please don't."

"I'm going to call Tempest and see what's going on. If she has any concrete leads and proof of a trafficking operation, I'm reporting it. If they don't have that, I'll keep my mouth shut. These people work for the Dreamwardens, and the Dreamwardens are famous for withholding information, even from their closest aides. Tempest could have nothing other than a vague instruction to look into it. I can believe it of Phobia to pull something like that."

"Me too," Robby said. "Phobia may monologue like a comic book villain, but she somehow still manages to be secretive to the extreme; even Rosetta doesn't know what Phobia is up to ninety percent of the time. The Marshmallow pulls that crap, too, maybe more, if the rumors are true. It's like being secretive is baked into their DNA."

"Let me go. I'm going to call Tempest and head your way," her dad instructed. "Love you; keep focused on getting moved in."

"Love you, Dad," she replied, then hung up. 

As soon as she hung up, her phone started ringing again. She looked at who was calling and saw it was Phobia. She immediately answered. 

"Phobia, what's up with this human trafficking thing?" she immediately said.

"Hello to you too, Jessie," Phobia answered dryly. "I'm not prepared to talk about that with you. I'm calling because I want to tell you that we are preparing our spacecraft to go to the place you found–which we can now verify you did indeed find the correct location. We could possibly mount an expedition as early as Saturday and be back by Sunday. We would, however, require someone to calculate its change in position from where we are seeing it with Starpiercer and where it currently is. However, it would take a mathematical genius to figure that out in such a short period of time."

She rubbed her head. "So you're pulling me off vacation to do that for you."

"I didn't say that or make any such request. We promised you that you could take as long as needed for your vacation. I am simply stating that it would be beneficial if some mathematical genius decided to calculate those coordinates for us so we could make this trip as soon as possible," Phobia answered. 

She continued to rub her head. "I'll think about it. Are you sure you aren't willing to tell me anything about this human trafficking thing that involves Mark? Mark wasn't sold to his grandmother or on the verge of being sold, was he?"

"We have no reason to believe at this time that Mark was sold or that his grandmother had any nefarious intention with him. Does that soothe your fears?" Phobia asked.

"A little," Jessica conceded. "Did you have any other reason for calling other than pressuring me to end my vacation and help you out?"

"Help the world out, not merely us. Tick-tock, Jessie," Phobia replied. "I have done all I intended with this call. I hope you have a pleasant rest of your day with as little stress as possible." The Dreamwarden then hung up. 

"Wow, that was subtle," Nightscape said sarcastically. "What's this about a spacecraft? Are the Dreamwardens going to Mars or something? Phobia getting in touch with her inner Luna and going to the moon?"

Jessica shook her head. "I can't talk about it, but it's the culmination of all the work I've done for the Dreamwardens."

Nightscape smiled. "Oh, well, that's exciting. You must be thrilled." Her smile softened. "Hey, I know I can be rude, but whatever happens with this kid, you can't do anything about it right now. I'm sure your dad has him in a safe place. Focus on getting this move done, go to your job tomorrow, then maybe you do whatever Miss Nightmares wants and be done with it. Then you can be a normal-ish twenty-something-year-old for once."

"Normal-ish?" Jessica asked fur prickling on her legs.

Nightscape laughed. "Don't get fired up. I mean, you are only nineteen but have a career as a college professor, you work with NASA, you control sound, and you wrote a law of physics. That's not really normal at all, but it's all good things."

Jessica relaxed. Those things were all true, but she still was on edge for being called not normal. There were all those things, and then there was what people saw when they looked at her, and it wasn't her accomplishments. 

Once, last year,  in a moment of weakness, she had gone to a surgeon and done a consultation about whether they could make her seem more human. She'd already changed her mind about it by the time she'd gotten home from them taking x-rays of her, knowing it wasn't what she wanted. A few days later, they gave her the results of her consultation. Removing her tail could cause irreparable damage to her spine and cause nerve damage. Trying to change her ears would likely leave them looking uncanny and might damage her hearing. Removing the fur from her legs permanently would be an exceptionally long process, and her skin underneath wouldn't be smooth or match the rest of her skin. Even if she wanted to change how she looked, there was no practical way of doing it. No one knew she did it, and no one would find out. She'd caved to the pressure, if only momentarily, and she was ashamed of it. 

Her thoughts turned back to Mark and became more resolved. Mark wouldn't grow up ashamed. She would see to that, but she had to do things right. She'd get the right to foster him. She'd show she had everything together. 

"You're right," she said, standing up. "I need to get these boxes all inside. Dusk, I'll need you to help me with the bed. I can.do most of the lifting, but you need to help me steady it."

"So…are you going to outer space?" Dusk asked. 

She nearly stumbled into some of the boxes, knocking them over and scattering books and clothes all over the floor. "Why would you ask me that? Where did that come from?"

He shrugged. "Phobia said she had a spacecraft. You've always dreamed about going to space. You've been doing all this work for them. I figured they owe you a trip to space."

She looked at her younger brother. "Yeah, when they go, I'll go."

He looked at her with a frown. "Then this Mark kid must be very important to you. You are getting your dream, and you are moving into this place, and all you can think about is that kid."

Jessica sat down and started to clean up the mess she had made. "He does. I need to make sure my life is in order so I can help him get his life in order. Step one is making sure this place is in order. Let's get everything inside."





"Are you sure I can refuse them entry? They seem angry."

Rebecca smiled as she answered the voice on the other end of the line. Russell and Josie silently watched her from the kitchen table. 

"Yes, they have no access to the farm if you don't let them in," she answered. "I'm not sure how it worked back in your old country, but the church does not have the power to force entry here."

"Perhaps we can let them in and explain."

Rebecca tilted her head. "You and I both know that wouldn't go over well. Deny them entry. If they keep asking, keep denying them. At some point, they'll give up because they have no choice. I don't want the police to get involved. We don't want them getting a good look at your farmhands or Patches."

"As you say. Thank you. I shall do so."

The line hung up, and Rebecca smiled at her husband and her bodyguard. 

"Sorry, work keeps invading my time lately. It's almost like a job," she said as she climbed into her seat at the table.

Her husband raised an eyebrow at her. "So…why do you guys have a farm, and why is the Catholic church trying to gain entry?"

She started pouring ranch on her salad. "They want access because they think there are demons on the farm. We have a farm to have a place to keep our cute little necromancer."

They both stared at her in disbelief as she started chowing down on her salad. Why were they looking at her like that? They ate with her all the time. They knew her table manners weren't the greatest. She only used forks for formal dinners. 

"Necromancer…as in resurrecting dead people?" Russell slowly asked her.

"More or less. It's complicated," she answered, chewing. "Eat, the salads are good." 

"And are there demons on the property?" Josie asked. 

Rebecca licked some of the ranch off her face. "Depends on how you define a demon, I suppose. How do you define a demon?"

"A malevolent supernatural force that wants only to do evil and harm," Josie answered. 

Rebecca thought about it. "Hmmm, in that case, there's at least one, but don't worry, it's trapped in a squirrel."

Josie worked her mouth. "A demonic squirrel? Does it attack and maul everyone?"

"Oh no, that would be bad. Who wants to get mauled by a squirrel, much less a demonic one? That would certainly annoy and scare all the other zombies on the property, and nobody wants scared and annoyed zombies. They have feelings, too, you know. The squirrel is stuffed, so it can't do much of anything. They use it to help keep an eye on their living room. Honestly, I think it should be happy our little necromancer lets it out of his soul at all," Rebecca answered as she reached for the garlic bread. 

"I don't even know how to respond to that," Josie said as she grabbed her fork with a wing and shoveled some salad onto it. 

Russell gaped for a moment, then looked at Josie. "Hey, real talk here, did I marry a super-villain?"

Josie grinned. "Yes, I'm sure this is all part of her plot to force everyone in the world to drink whole milk instead of skim."

Rebecca looked up from her food. "Hey! That sounds heroic to me. Skim milk is evil!"

Russell looked at her. "Seriously, Bec, a necromancer? When is a necromancer not evil?"

She waved a wing at him. "He's not evil. He can't help that he has magic that reanimates dead bodies, along with doing other disturbing things, and we understand how easy it is for someone with those magics to go down the wrong path. This is why we have the farm. People just wouldn't understand he's an innocent kid. We want him to have a good and happy foalhood, so he doesn't become an evil monster. People aren't born evil, but getting treated like you are an evil monster by everyone you meet sure can force you down that path. He deserves better than that."

Russell smiled and cupped his hand over her hoof. "I'm sorry. I should never doubt your heart."

She smiled back at him. "Hey, I know it's tough being married to someone who lives a double life with that other life being largely a mystery." Her smile slipped. "Speaking of which, I'm going on a trip, probably at the end of the week, and it may be next week when I return."

Josie groaned. "Ugh, where are we going to this time? I just got back."

Rebecca shook her head. "I might end up sending you to meet up with Blanche and the others, but you aren't coming along for my trip. I'm going off-world."

"Equestria?" Russell asked in confusion. "I thought you'd only go to Equestria when you retire."

"Not to Equestria," she replied. "I said off-world, not off-universe."

"So…the moon? A space station?" Russel asked. 

"I'm going to Jeg'galla'gamp'pi. At least one Dreamwarden needs to go, and I can traverse it the easiest while giving the others a view."

They stared at her again, waiting for a better explanation. She'd expected this once it came up. She leaned back and closed her eyes. 

"I've thought long and hard about how I was going to tell you this," she said. "Here's what I came up with."

She started to sing. 

"#A long, long, time ago
#In a galaxy far away
#Triss and I went way back."

"Is she seriously going to explain this with a parody of a parody of American Pie?" Josie asked in disbelief. 

"#And my soulfriend's family's haul was looking kinda lack."

"Yep, she is," Russell answered. 

"#We explored the ruins with due diligence.
#We found a room. Triss was thrilled with this. 
#Inside was a stone that most impressed. 
#Would feed Triss's family more than any season past. 
#We offered the treasure to Merdae
#And we got an offer that made them say wowie.
#Triss missed the stone and tried to stash in brief.
#That's how we started our journey."

Josie covered her ears. "It's not even good!"

Rebecca stood up in her seat and started dancing.

"#My, my Jeg'galla'gamp'pi!
#It may have made me hate her, but that was days gone by.
#We told our mothers and our fathers goodbye.
#And said we'd be mages if we try.
#We'd be mages if we tried.

Josie gave her a flat look. "Rebecca, you are neither Don McLean nor Weird Al, and your song and dance aren't explaining anything to us. In fact, I think I'm more confused after that little bit than I was before. As your bodyguard, I insist you give us a clearer answer."

Rebecca plopped her butt back in her seat. "Spoiled sport, sometimes you just don't want to have fun. I thought the song was a cheerful way of telling about it."

"Maybe we can hear the whole song later, hun, but can we get a shorter, straight-to-the-point explanation for now?" Russell asked.

"I'll hold you to that. I have another six verses ready to go," Rebecca pouted. 

"Sure thing," Russell agreed. "Now, what the heck is Jeg'galla'gamp'pi?"

Rebecca pulled some more bread over on her salad dressing-drenched plate and started using it to mop up the dressing. 

"Jeg'galla'gamp'pi is a huge set of ruins that make up what seems to be a whole planet. It is all one big single stone. All the buildings, towers, bridges, stairs, floors, streets, everything on the world is all part of one single unbroken stone–super dense thaumic matter. It predates time as we know it, and we have no idea who originally made it. All thaumic energy in our universe passes in and out of it at some point. It is the heart of magic. It is completely indestructible, and even the birth and death of the universe couldn't put a scratch on a single one of those buildings."

Russell blinked. "And this is in a faraway galaxy, but it is somehow going to be a just over-the-weekend trip?"

Rebecca pointed at her husband while looking at Josie. "See! My sexy, spotty man understands."

Josie frowned. "So while Blanche and I continue to work on tracking down this trafficking operation, you'll be going across the galaxy to the origin of magic for reasons you don't want to explain why or how."

Rebecca grinned. "You got it!"





Luna looked up from her lunch as Krik entered the room. He glanced around at the fruit debris and scattered seeds that littered the floor and carefully approached her. She dug back into her pineapple. 

He climbed into a seat beside her and waited. 

She swallowed what was in her mouth and tossed aside the half-eaten pineapple. 

"Krik, I just received a request from the Dreamwardens and the US government to come to Earth. It seems like Jeg'galla'gamp'pi has been found. By our prior agreements, I agreed to power their craft to reach this alien world."

The old night pony smiled. 

She looked him in the eyes. "It seems strange to me that I did not get such a report from you. I know you have eyes in NASA. I would hope my spymaster would keep me more informed."

He made some vague gestures. 

"Yes, maybe they failed to report anything, or perhaps you saw an opportunity for me to be saddled with your daughter for a trip to Earth, and you waited for me to commit her to that trip."

The tongueless pony did not reply. He didn't need to. They both knew what he had done. 

She sighed. "Ready my preparations to leave. Let your daughter know I will be joining her."





Mark sat in the middle of the room and looked around. All his toys were here–his blocks, his cars, his puzzles, his stuffed animals, his action figures. On the walls were paintings of mountains that seemed pretty. The bed wasn't his bed, not the bed he knew. This was a different bed shaped like a car. He would need to jump to get on it. That wasn't the problem. The problem was it wasn't his bed. Jack and Jill said it was his bed. 

Light came in through the window. It was too high up for him to climb up and look out. He didn't like that. There was a lamp with a clown on it. He wasn't sure if he liked that lamp or not. The carpet was fluffy and gray like the floor had fur. He wasn't sure how he felt about that.

His ears twitched at voices in the hall. 

"When do I get to play with Mark?" 

"He's nervous and scared, Wishing. Give it time and take it slow."

"But he isn't coming out of his room to take it slow."

"He'll be out for dinner. Let him learn that it is his safe space. Now, go play in the backyard or with your toys downstairs. Leave Mark alone for right now."

Those weren't the sounds he was supposed to hear. He was supposed to hear his grandma watching her shows or in the kitchen. He was supposed to hear the neighbors talking in the parking lot. Sometimes, he looked out the edge of the window to see them. They never saw him. He was a good boy who made sure strangers didn't see him. Now, all these people wanted him to be caught by strangers, but they also wanted him to be good. He didn't understand how to do both. 

He scratched his head near his horn. He'd been wanting to do that all day but had stopped himself from doing it. Whenever Grandma saw him do that, she gave him a bath. He didn't want strangers bathing him, even if he promised. Grandma could give him a bath. Jessie, his maybe later mommy, could give him a bath. He'd make sure no one ever saw him scratching his head. If they never saw him scratch his head, they'd never give him a bath. 

The bear Jessie had given him was here. Paul had almost forgotten it in the car. Mark cried when he almost left him here without it. Jessie had given him that bear. It was special. He wanted her here. She said she was coming, but she didn't say when. 

Maybe Jack and Jill knew. He would have to ask if he wanted to find out. That meant talking to strangers. That meant going back out there. He could go out there. The door was closed, but there was a handle down low. Jack said it was a foal's handle so foals could open the door. It was still high, but he could reach it if he jumped. He was a good jumper. Grandma called him her little frog.

He shook his head. He didn't want to think about Grandma. She told him that when people get old, they eventually go to forever sleep. She had promised that someone would be there when she went forever sleep. She'd gone forever sleep, and he'd been alone for a long time. Then strangers came and grabbed him and scared him. They took him to that wrong place. They poked him with needles that hurt him. Then Jessie came. She was different. She had to be who Grandma promised. She'd make things right.

The loud pony wasn't in the hallway anymore. At least, he didn't think the pony was. It might be safe to go into the hall. Carefully creeping through the gray shaggy rug, Mark made his way to the door and put his ear up to it, listening. Music or something was nearby, but it wasn't in the hall. It was a different room. The hall sounded empty. 

He jumped and grabbed the handle, pulling it down and holding onto it as his feet came back to the ground. It hurt to stretch like this with his back almost straight. His back was different from Grandma's or Jessie's. It wasn't supposed to go like that, but he didn't cry. He held onto the handle and pulled, and the door opened just enough for him to squeeze through. 

He was in a small hallway with tour other doors. Three of them were closed, but one was open, and he went straight into the kitchen, where he could see Jill at the stove. He quietly walked towards her, trying not to make any sound. 

Jill turned from the stove to do something else and jumped and cried out as she spotted him. He jumped too and immediately looked for somewhere to hide. There was a table with two chairs against one of the walls, and he ran and hid under one of the chairs. 

"Mark?" Jill said, sounding like she was breathing hard. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. You just startled me, is all. I didn't realize you were there. You can come out. It's okay."

He moved along the wall and found another door to go in. This one had all the laundry and the washer and dryer. It wasn't a very big room, and it didn't have any more doors. Still, it had places to hide, and he jumped in the laundry basket and pulled some laundry over himself as he quickly burrowed deeper into it. 

Jill's footsteps came into the room. "Mark? You don't have to hide. I'm not mad at you for scaring me, and I'm very sorry I scared you. How about we try this over again."

He heard her walk further in. 

"Where are you?" she said in confusion. He heard her move around some more. "Not behind here." He listened to the dryer open and close a second later. "Not in there, thank God, not behind the boiler. Paul said he could hide well. Guess he wasn't exaggerating."

He heard her come closer to the basket. "He couldn't have, could he?" He felt her touch the basket, and it shook. He could tell she was picking laundry off the top. 

"Not there either," Jill said, giving up before she dug deep enough in the laundry to find him. "Where the heck did he go? I know I saw him run in here. He must have gotten past me somehow when I came in here."

Her footsteps retreated from the room, and he could hear her in the kitchen again. A few seconds later, he listened to the kitchen cabinets opening. This went on for a while before it stopped. 

"Jack! Caleb! Wishing! I need some help!" Jill called out. Sounds of opening doors happened right after. 

"What's wrong?" Jack asked.

"I lost track of Mark. He came out of his room, but we startled each other, and now he's hiding. I think he's moving while I'm looking for him. I need help finding him. He might get hurt doing this."

"Little kid is worse than Wishing was when he got here," Caleb said. 

"I wasn't bad," Wishing protested. 

"You hid in your room and cried for like a week," Caleb said.

"That's in the past," Jack said. "Let's focus on Mark. If Mark wants to do that, that is okay, but hiding in the kitchen isn't. He might get into something that could hurt him."

"Just have Wishing sniff him out," Caleb said. 

"Wishing isn't a dog, Caleb," Jill said. 

"But I can!" Wishing yelled. "Mark smells funny, like going to the doctor. He's easy to smell if I get close. I can find him."

"See?" Caleb said. "I'm not being mean to Wishing. I just know he can smell things better than the rest of us."

"Maybe having a tiny foal searching for him might be less scary than three giant humans," Jack said. "Let's stand back, let Wishing try, and we can keep our eyes open."

"I'll find him!" Wishing yelled. 

Mark heard the hoofsteps moving around. They didn't seem close. Not yet. His nose itched. The clothes in the hamper smelled funny. 

"You don't have to sniff the ground like Scooby-Doo," Caleb said. 

"That's how they do it in the cartoons!" Wishing said back. 

"Just walk around and see if you can pick up a whiff of him," Caleb said. 

The hoofsteps moved around some more, and Mark heard sniffing noises. They were getting closer and closer. They were in the laundry room now. 

"He's in here. I can smell him," Wishing said. 

"He was in there, but he got out," Jill said. 

"No, he's in here. I couldn't smell where he was. I can only smell him," Wishing said. The hoofsteps got closer to the laundry. Mark held his breath. "I found him! He's in Caleb's dirty clothes!"

Footsteps came in. "I already checked that," Jill said. 

Something hit the basket and knocked it over. Mark went tumbling out with all the clothes. 

"See! He's right there!" Wishing shouted. 

"Wishing! You didn't need to do that! That is going to scare him even more!" Jill yelled.

Mark didn't stay where he was for long. He started running, using his arms and his legs. He ran by Wishing. Ran under Jill's legs. Ran by Caleb and Jack, and ran into the living room. All the doors were closed. There was just the stairs. So he ran up the stairs. 

It was dark upstairs, the ceiling was lower, and there was a lot of dust and boxes. There were a lot of places to hide. 

"I saw him. He went up into the storage space," Caleb said from the bottom of the stairs. 

"Crap…there's tons of places for him to hide up there and get hurt," Jack said. 

"We'll never catch him up there," Jill said. She sounded like she was going to cry. Mark felt bad.

"What was the name of that person he wants to adopt him? Maybe she can get him to come out," Caleb said. 

Mark's ears perked up. All he had to do was stay upstairs, and they would get Jessie.