darkspine10

“No, not really.” She’d been up half the night, trying to calm down Leah after a nightmare. She’d winced at the birdsong on the walk over, reminded far too much of her daughter’s squealing. She’d foisted the toddler off on her husband, who was deeply ensconced in research about something he’d described as a ‘threat to all life in this corner of the galaxy’. As if. He didn’t mind having a sympathetic ear to his ramblings - even if Leah could barely comprehend basic English yet.

Pacifica rubbed her temples. “You got any of those purging crystals, the ones that actually work? I’ve got some chores around the house that need doing and I could do with removing some negative vibes.This one’s no help today.” Merrise strolled by, enamoured with one of the shelves in Pines Pawns stacked with plastic figurines of dinosaurs and other extinct animals, the kind of figurines you only got in crappy gift shops. Probably stock from the museum over the road, but they felt right at home here.

Mabel put on her glasses and checked a clipboard. “Hmm, inventory’s a little light after last week. You used up my main supply.”

“So just go bully that gnome to get some more from his supplier.” She didn’t have the patience for this. “And do you have some painkillers? I feel a stress headache coming on.”

“Sure thing.” Mabel rooted around beneath the counter, her search for crystals forgotten. One-track mind, this one, Pacifica mused. Her friend threw her a strip of tablets and Pacifica gratefully swallowed one dry. “Now, what was the other thing you were after?”

“Purging. Crystals.”

“Oh, right, gotcha. You know I can’t keep giving them away, even if you’re family. My online storefront’s taken a hit cause of all that AI art junk these days.” Mabel despondently flipped over a page on the clipboard, then smiled. “Actually I might have some in the back, give me two ticks.”

As Mabel disappeared from sight, Pacifica started wistfully staring at a shelf containing large chunks of amethyst and obsidian. She could admire her old friend’s marketing skills. These pricey rocks - even the ones with no tangible powers whatsoever - attracted a certain class of customer who were willing to pay whatever it took and Mabel wasn’t shy about jacking up the prices. Pacifica felt a stab of guilt about her friend’s money woes, and resolved to give her at least a token payment for the crystals, even though she knew Mabel would try to refuse it.

“It’s amazing how useful magic can be,” she said absent-mindedly, trying to urge Mabel on. “One minute I’m a step away from an anxiety attack, the next, poof, nothing.” She laughed to herself, but didn’t get any reply from Mabel. Today wasn’t turning out to be her day. She felt Merrise bump into her and turned sharply. “What did I tell you about- oh.”

It wasn’t Merrise. A wide-eyed girl was looking up at her, apologetic.

“Amber, what have I told you about running about the place?” The girl’s mother walked towards the desk, but stopped in her tracks the instant she laid eyes on Pacifica. The stranger’s hair was styled in an afro, and she wore a fashionable white business suit. For Pacifica the years rolled back, and suddenly she felt like she was 13 years old again. She let out an audible gasp, while the woman spoke, astounded. “Pacifica, is that you?”

“Gina?”

Gina had once been a part of Pacifica’s closest circle of friends, her posse, her gang, who ruled over the Gravity Falls High School’s popular scene. Ever since the Northwests lost their manor, and the standing in town that came with it, Pacifica had gradually come to be seen as tainted, no longer worth any social capital. It had taken her a tough three or four years to find herself, with the help of Pines twins and their friend-group, and she gradually left behind her old friends. Despite drifting apart she’d remained connected to her group on various online socials, if only to peek occasionally at the gossip from her ‘old life’. Now it felt like looking through a window on another universe, one where she had followed the path set out for her by her parents all those decades ago.

Both she and Gina seemed stunned by the meeting, unable to form the words to start a conversation. The little girl who had bumped into her - Gina’s daughter presumably - noticed the awkwardness and ran off without a word.

“My, it’s been so long,” Gina said, looking over Pacifica with a critical gaze. Trying to analyse whether she was looking at a superior or inferior most likely. Pacifica felt like a piece of meat on display at a butcher’s.

Pacifica was done with all that, she told herself, even as she eyed the gold bangles on Gina’s wrist and the phone gripped loosely in one hand, an expensive Chiu-Tech 35X model that had only just been released. Still, there was no point getting hung up on formality. “Oh my god, it’s good to see you.” She went in for a small hug, though neither of them took to it very naturally. “When did we last meet-up? That pool party for Tiffany’s 15th?”

“It must have been. Of course she’s modelling now, Milan. Crazy how time flies.” Despite all the years of separation, Gina seemed genuinely enthused by their reunion, smiling and clutching Pacifica’s arms. “So what have you been up to, squirreled away here all this time! There were all these whispers about being disowned by your parents, very hush hush. Then you ended up as some bigshot artist, have I got that right?”

“An architect, but who’s counting.” Pacifica shrugged. “What about you? You look… good.” It was the most delicate way she could think to phrase her obvious nosiness. In her plaid shirt and a pair of non-descript jeans she felt highly inadequate next to her friend in her finely trimmed suit and skirt.

“Oh, swimmingly, dear.” Gina waved a hand like it was nothing. “The family business you know, high finance. To be fair it’s mostly boring meetings and schmoozing with clients. But forget about me, I want to hear everything from you.” Out of the side of her mouth, Gina said, “I heard you ran off and married one of those Pines twins!”

“Ok, no purging crystals round back, but I did scrounge up some illusion charms so if you’re worried about cleaning you can just hide the dirt til later.” Mabel, her face blocked by a cardboard box, sauntered back in. She dumped the box on the counter, then did a double-take when she saw Pacifica conversing with a stranger. “Oh hiya. Always nice to have newcomers passing through. Interested in buying a bobblehead, keyring, snowglobe? Something more pricey?” She had detected that the woman was wealthy.

Gina's eyes flicked to Pacifica’s wedding ring, then the almost identical gold band on Mabel’s finger. “That’s not… her, is it?”

With dawning realisation, Pacifica began to blush like a tomato. “Oh, god, no. No, this is my husband’s sister.” She grabbed Mabel by the arm and flashed a smile with too many teeth. “My good ‘ol sister-in-law!” From the look on Gina’s face she guessed that she sounded more like she was hiding deep in the closet.

Baffled, Mabel aimed a half-hearted smile at Gina, as if trying to corroborate her friend’s words. If anything, Gina found this more off-putting. Her eyes glanced at the door. “Well, perhaps I should go, I have places to be and-”

“Mom!” Gina’s kid ran up to them, with Merrise in tow. “Is it alright if we stay in town a bit longer? I met someone who wants to show me around.” Merrise flashed a confident expression to her mother, evidently excited to show a newcomer the town’s highlights. Pacifica blinked. Somehow her daughter had bonded with the girl in the five minutes they’d been together in the aisles of the store. And she thought Mabel was the only one with that kind of instant friendliness.

Unexpectedly, a wave of excitement swept over Gina’s face. Looking genuinely overjoyed, the woman bent over and tugged at Amber’s cheek, an act so sickeningly twee that both Pacifica and Mabel cringed. “Well, isn’t that delightful, honey. You finally made a friend! Maybe she can come to the event this afternoon.”

Merrise shrugged, unaware of what she’d walked into. “Sure, that could be fun.”

“Oh, perfect.” Gina clapped her hands together and her eyes panned across the shelves. “That’s why we wandered into this… rustic establishment.” Mabel missed the implied dig. “I was hoping to find a corsage, you know for a party? Would you have anything like that?”

“Don’t think so, hotshot, but I’m sure I could run out into the woods and grab some wildflowers for you.” Mabel wiggled her eyebrows at Gina, leading Pacifica to facepalm.

“Don’t flirt with the customers, May,” she whispered. “You can open your marriage on your own time. Besides, I’m not sure Merrise can go out with someone she’s just met.” She put her hands protectively on Merrise’s shoulders, who squirmed under the unwanted attention.

“She’s your daughter?” Gina looked from the girl to her supposed mother, eyes narrowing. The difference in skin colour projected by Merrise’s perception filter reared its ugly head once again. It tapped into the subconscious, treating her alien-ness as some kind of innate feature that differed her from her parents.

Pacifica was tired of this technological veil always leading to awkward conversations. “Adopted. I have another daughter as well, by birth. It’s… a long story.” Somehow the complications of her family life made Pacifica feel starkly embarrassed. That wasn’t even going into the more fantastical elements regarding Merrise. Any hint of weirdness would be profoundly gauche to a professional high-flyer like Gina, so she kept her mouth shut.

Gina processed the information, then flashed her an ironic grin. “You certainly have been busy, hidden away in the woods, adopting strays. It sounds like it must take an impressive woman to manage a household like that.”

Pacifica knew she ought to smile at the compliment but her lips failed to oblige. Instead her cheek muscles merely gave a small twitch. “Where’s Amber’s dad, then?” Pacifica asked, happy for any excuse to abruptly bat the conversation back into Gina’s court.

“Oh, Brett is fine. Amber and I arrived here last week and he’s still back in LA arranging some minor details of the move.”

“Brett, right,” Pacifica muttered. Of course that was his name.

“Actually, between you and me,” which was somewhat inaccurate given that Mabel and the kids could hear every word, “coming back up here in person was the only way I could think of to convince him that the move was the right idea. I want my daughter to experience some of that rural upbringing that I had, a chance to play in the dirt and mingle with the commoners.”

Pacifica couldn’t miss the obvious comment on her own station in life, having stuck around this place long after it was the fashionable thing to do. Apparently it was now a retro lifestyle. Who could have guessed? They’d have packs of influencers roaming the floating cliffs with selfie sticks next thing she knew.

“That reminds me. I’m hosting a party with some friends of mine, a housewarming kind of thing, you know?” Pacifica did know. It was the same old slumber party routine, to establish the pecking order, firm and fast. A chance to show off achievements and lord it over everyone else. “It’s being held in the McGucket Community Space, up on the hill. Oh wait, of course you know, that’s your old place, isn’t it?”

Gritting her teeth, Pacifica said, “Yeah, what a huge coincidence.”

“I don’t suppose you’d want to attend?”

“Um, I don’t think-”

“Amber’s met so few friends here in Oregon, it would be nice to make inroads with the locals. You should come, I insist. It would be just like old times.”

“Well, I’m not sure. I’ll need to check my calendar.” Inside she was panicking, torn between an instant revulsion against the whole concept and a politeness drilled into her at an instinctual level.

“Can we go, mom?” Merrise asked. It seemed that she was as eager as Amber to cement a new friendship. “Please?”

“Hey wait.” Mabel snapped her fingers. “That’s right, isn’t the manor one of the places where Dipper said he detected an anomaly? Those bubble things.”

Pacifica swore under her breath. “Oh, right, those.” Trust Mabel to throw her under the bus without thinking.

Out of the blue, Gina followed up Mabel’s suggestion with a comment of her own. “You know I did hear some rumours that the place was haunted. Utterly ridiculous of course, but you know how superstitious people get in this town. That cinches it. Pacifica, you must come to the party. You have history with the place. If there’s any kind of real haunting you must know a way to put a stop to it.”

Pacifica’s heart sank. She supposed that the possibility of an anomaly at the manor swung the decision. If it tied into her husband’s studies, then maybe it would help everyone in the long-term. There was always a risk that the party guests might actually be in danger. Actually, scratch that - the idea of a room full of rich snobs getting iced tipped the scale towards staying at home.

Gina turned to Mabel, and in a move that surprised both her and Pacifica, said, “And you come too I suppose. The Pines are the premier ghost-hunting family, right?”

“Yeah!” Mabel excitedly agreed, inadvertently roping in Pacifica no matter if she protested now.

“So,” Gina asked, “can I count on your attendance?”

Pacifica was caught in a trap. She looked from Gina, who had already assumed her response, to her daughter’s imploring face to support a new friend, to Mabel’s knowing smirk. Inwardly, she groaned. Outwardly, she put on a winning smile. “Why of course. I’d love to.”

Pacifica wrapped the black stole around her neck. It was the same one she’d owned as a child, still as fluffy as ever. Back then it had draped past her shoulders and over her chest, but this evening it barely inched beyond her collarbone. It was more like a travel pillow than a piece of distinguished finery. It was all she had. Pacifica’s independence from her parents had cost her the luxury of a varied wardrobe. Normally she could get by, but when it came to the fancier things in life she did find herself hankering for a touch of the old extravagance.

She smoothed down her midnight blue dress, satisfied with this aspect of her outfit. She’d worn a similar number to a gala in Venice. The strap hooked over one shoulder, leaving the other daringly bare and only mildly hidden by the stole. Painted nails matched the dress, but the look was offset by pale green mascara and lipstick, a bit of chiaroscuro to make the colours pop.

“Is all this necessary?”

Pacifica cast a critical eye over her daughter. Merrise looked vaguely uncomfortable in the dress, modified from the costume she’d worn on Summerween. It was over-designed - more of a heightened parody of 18th century fashion than the real deal - so Pacifica had trimmed it down the night before, snipping away extraneous laces and cutting the sleeves off entirely in the hope it would appear more contemporary. It was an obvious hack job, that anyone with real taste would spot in an instant. Mabel would probably consider it a resounding success.

Merrise hardly cared for it though, as she hauled the heavy fabric skirts up the drive towards the manor’s looming presence. No doubt her daughter would have considered jeans and a t-shirt the adequate choice, Pacifica thought despairingly. Every now again she noticed Merrise tugging at the top of the dress. It was tighter than when she’d last worn it. Merrise was getting taller and filling out the dress’s bodice. She might not share her daughter’s biology, but apparently Tengosans weren’t too different to humans in some regards. Puberty was coming all the same.

Pacifica knelt down, helping Merrise straighten her outfit. “It’s just for one afternoon.” She tried not to recall her own adolescence. That awkward summer when her chest had started ‘showing’, and her parents had lined up several photo shoots with her in swimwear for glossy finance magazines. She hoped to god that her own daughters would never suffer the humiliation of such pageantry. Pacifica made sure that her daughter’s golden medallion was in place and shining. A bit of jewellery might distract from any perceived shabbiness. “There, you look perfect.”

Merrise looked down at herself, still not impressed. “Mom, why are we doing all this, anyway?”

“Gina is an old friend. If she wants to catch up… well that’s her prerogative. Besides, Mason gets to spend time with you doing his activities. I want to do the same, show you a bit of my life.”

“But I thought you didn’t do this kind of thing anymore?” Merrise had lobbed a grenade right at the heart of the matter.

“I don’t,” Pacifica said, her confidence wavering. “Will you just do this for me, this one time? Then if you don’t enjoy it I won’t make you do it again, ok?”

Detecting some greater import to her mother’s words, Merrise nodded. “Alright, I'll do it for you. But I’m still not going to like this dress.”

“Fair enough,” she said with a smile.

Mother and daughter stood in front of the iron gates of the manor house. The building’s triangular awnings gave it a shadowy look, even in daylight. It stood up above the valley, leering like a magpie over its hoarded possessions. They were early, so only a few staff were currently in attendance, visible through the windows setting up Gina’s party. Pacifica fought the urge to turn on her heels and trek back down the hill. “Relax,” she thought, “it’s not one of your family’s events, it’s just a meet-and-greet with some rich strangers. You can mask your way through a couple of hours of that, easy.”

As she pushed the gate open with a whine - no servants had oiled the hinges recently, for shame - they heard a loud squeal of tires coming towards them up the winding driveway. Pacifica covered one ear to block out the revving motorbike engine. It came to a stop beside them, leaving a scent of burning rubber. The rider flicked up the visor of her helmet. “Howdy,” Mabel said.

She wore a bold pink dress which had a wider brim than Pacifica’s curve-hugging ensemble. Mabel had accentuated it with a pair of elegant white evening gloves, leaving her arm tattoos mostly covered. The whole impression clashed with the grungy bike. A far cry from the rhododendron bush she’d worn at her last Northwest Manor attendance. “Glad I didn’t have to lend you anything from my wardrobe,” Pacifica said haughtily as she scrutinised the attire, partly to cover up that she only possessed a handful of spares herself. She noticed a brown leather satchel hanging off Mabel’s hip; probably mystery solving gear.

Mabel shook her hair free of the helmet. In contrast to Pacifica's own perfectly straightened locks, Mabel had gone to the effort of curling her hair, or at least the side of her hair that wasn’t an undercut. Coils of steam still wafted up from some of the strands. It was a veritable warren of tangles and loops. She was unkempt and wild and free and shockingly beautiful to Pacifica's eyes. A small voice inside her whispered, ‘even more beautiful than you. It's because she's true to herself.’

She fought down a blush creeping into her cheek "You look... adequate."

Mabel snorted, but wasn't offended. "Nice to see you too, Paz." She swung one leg over the bike and clambered off in such an ungraceful manner as to dispel her mystique.

“You look amazing, May!” Merrise ran over to her aunt and excitedly touched the dress.

“Well, aren’t you the picture of a refined young lady?” Mabel squeezed Merrise into a hug. “Partytime: You’re gonna love this!” That would make one of them, Pacifica mused.

As they walked towards the manor they were all silent, as if in anticipation of having to be on their best behaviour all night. Pacifica glanced at the topiary hedges in the garden, mostly overgrown and left unattended - not unlike Mabel’s hairdo. It made her oddly sad. Despite the fact that nobody really cared how this place looked anymore, it was still a part of her childhood that she was pointlessly defensive of. A few peacocks roamed around, unafraid of human contact after McGucket had let their numbers grow. They had a truer right to the legacy of this place than she did anymore.

Mabel’s kitten heels clacked along the cobblestones with each step. Indecorously, she adjusted the top of her dress. Could neither of her companions keep their hands straight? Offhandedly, Mabel said, “You’re lucky I had this old thing lying around at home. Thanks for the offer earlier, Paz, but I’m not sure I’d fit into one of your dresses. Not in a bad way,” she hurried to add. “We have different body shapes, that’s all. I’m all slender and you’re a bit more, uh, top heavy.” She looked like she regretted opening her mouth.

“It’s… fine,” Pacifica said. She’d overcome a lot of her body issues over the past few months and tried to stay in control. Only one lower eyelid trembled. “Don’t worry about it. Now, about your cover.”

Mabel’s brief relief at avoiding a delicate incident vanished. She rooted around in her satchel and retrieved the heavy black box with a strap which she slung around her neck. This was one of her brother’s expensive cameras. She aimed it at Pacifica. “Say cheese?” There was a bright flash. Pacifica blinked, and didn’t give her friend the satisfaction of a smile when she excitedly printed out a photo of her dazed expression.

“There, you look the part now.”

“As a photographer? Paparazzi, really?”

Pacifica waved her off. “Oh, it’s nothing. I used to smuggle Mason into parties this way all the time in college.”

“Boy, I bet he just loved that. All those rich folks looking down on him.”

“It’s easier this way. Nobody will look at you twice and you can move about unseen. You’ll be invisible.”

“Hmmph, remind me to work on an actual invisibility spell so I don’t have to put up with this again. I thought Gina invited me, anyway?”

“That was a casual, spur-of-the-moment suggestion. Trust me, she didn’t mean it literally. If we deal with the weirdness problem then no-one attending this soiree need be any the wiser. Also, no politics please. I’m pretty sure these people will throw you out if you mention redistributing their wealth.”

“Aw, but riling them up is half the fun.” Mabel put on a pout, though somehow Pacifica knew she’d stay in line for her sake.

“Now, daughter.” She snapped her fingers, and Merrise blinked at her. She’d been standing staring into space, waiting for the adults to finish bickering. “Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” she said. “You two enjoy your ghost hunting.”

With that, Pacifica steeled herself and pushed open the double-doors of the mansion. Before they were even fully open she caught a glimpse of their reflections in the polished floor - Merrise and Mabel were gawking at the grand hall, with its arched window alcoves stretching away and the columns of stacked logs. The prehistoric whale skeleton still hung over the dancefloor, dusty and cobwebbed, with appropriated native thunderbird totems acting as an honour guard as they passed by. Caterers buzzed about in neatly pressed suits, moving tables into position and setting out silver trays for a buffet. It was a display of elegance, though a strained one. They were trying too hard, Pacifica thought. This kind of excess had to come naturally or not at all.

“Man, I forgot how fancy your old house was.” Mabel’s head turned here and there. Her easily impressed tastes were still intact then. “Not a bad place for a party if you can forget about all the hatred and oppression built into the walls.”

“Wait.” Merrise must have missed Gina’s comments earlier, but had processed what her aunt had said. She looked at her mother. “You used to live here?” Her head swam with the scale of the place.

“A long time ago. A very long time.” Pacifica kept her lips tightly pressed together.

Atop the grand staircase, before the fireplace, sat old Tate McGucket on a plain wooden rocking chair. He was observing the party set-up like a hawk, his arms folded and his face in a permanent scowl. When he caught sight of Pacifica and Mabel, he gave the slightest nod - the highest respect he could bestow, Pacifica knew. It raised her spirits, a sign that this wasn’t just a static mausoleum to her troubled childhood. It was a party venue, one of many, nothing more.

“Mrs Pines?

Pacifica turned her head. “Yes?” “Yes?”

Mabel had spoken simultaneously. They had a moment of confusion before remembering that the name technically applied to both of them. One of the caterers was gesturing them over to one side of the foyer, where tonight’s host was directing a gaggle of stressed servants.

“No no, the shrimp should go with the appetizers, not on the main table. I mean seriously, this is not a sushi restaurant. Ah, Pacifica dear, welcome.”

“Gina, darling.” They exchanged a series of light kisses on each others’ cheeks, before nakedly sizing each other up. Her so-called old friend was resplendent in a wine-coloured ballgown. She stood with a straight back, somehow seeming much more comfortable in these surroundings. Pacifica felt self-conscious, aware that she might be holding herself wrong, that her posture might betray her insecurity, with only a thin midnight blue covering to disguise herself. This all used to be so easy - now it was a performance. A not entirely successful one. She gave what she hoped was a wittering laugh. “This place is as drafty as ever, I see.”

“Ha, you did always have a sharp eye for criticism.” Was that a sly comment on her being too negative? Pacifica tried to keep her mask from slipping. This was a conversation, she didn’t need to turn into a minefield. Gina looked past her at Merrise, who was trying not to be noticed. “And your daughter, an image of her mother indeed.” Uh oh, another comment that might be passive-aggressive, given the state of Merrise’s outfit. Pacifica really hadn’t missed this. It didn’t appear that Gina had remembered Merrise’s name, so she waved her towards one of the side corridors. “Most of the kids have arrived here ahead of their parents. You know, business calls to make, work obligations to attend. They’ll all be along in an hour or so.”

“Merrise!” Gina’s daughter appeared, grinning. She covered the distance to them, strutting over in a pair of heels. Amber wore a near-identical dress to her mother, scaled down and tailored accordingly. Gina’s family weren’t strapped for cash then. At least Merrise finally something to latch onto. Quite literally, as Amber grabbed Merrise’s wrist and dragged her across the ballroom.

“See you later,” she called back as she was led away.

Gina watched them with a wistful smile. “To think, we were once like that. So eager to imitate our parents. It was all so glamorous. It’s good that they won’t be alone. Anyway, here I am yapping.” She seemed to notice Mabel for the first time, hanging in the back and making a token effort to take some photographs of the party prep. Her eyes were more taken by one of the food platters, and Pacifica and Gina spied her sneaking a bite of a bread roll. Gina leant to her friend’s ear and whispered. “I still cannot believe you married into that clan. They saved the town, sure, but…”

Pacifica couldn’t tell if that was admiration or apprehension in Gina's tone. Sure, she’d been around to face those horrors of Weirdmageddon like everyone else, the woman was well aware of what fate had been averted by the Pines. Yet there was a sense that Pacifica was still lowering herself by ‘getting involved’. Pacifica had heard rumours and scuttlebut over the years: that there was always the slim chance that the Pines, who some said caused the disaster in the first place, could lead to it happening all over again. Nonsense of course, but a common sentiment among those who didn’t know better.

“Well,” Pacifica said, “it means we’ll have this haunting sorted for you before you know it.”

“Yes, I suppose so. Do hurry back though. I want you to tell me all about your life, your family, those adventures I’ve heard so much about. I’d hate for you to miss out on the party as well, it’s probably been a while since you’ve last had the chance to let your hair down and enjoy the finer things.”

“It has.” Pacifica was guarded. Once again Gina’s comments were cutting a little too close to home. “Mabel,” she called in a clipped tone, “let’s go. We’ll sweep the upper floors.”

“Roger!” Mabel saluted and they walked in tandem. Pacifica felt as if Gina’s eyes were drilling into the back of her skull.

Mabel’s dress concealed her feet, and ideally it should have made her look like she was gliding across the dance floor, like a chess piece. Instead her powerful strides made it look ungainly, the fabric bunching up and falling behind in waves. “Do you think my ass looks big in this dress?”

Pacifica was glancing behind at Gina, who was waving at her with an expression she found hard to read. Sympathetically embarrassed with her, or taking pity on her? Who could say. “Sure, whatever.”

“You aren’t listening,” Mabel said, more curious than annoyed.

Meanwhile, across the manor Merrise’s wrist was starting to get sore in Amber’s grip. She didn’t think Amber was a bad kid, but she had her mother’s presumptiveness. She slowed down and Amber at least had the good grace to release her. In any case they were at their destination, a luxurious drawing room adorned with the stuffed heads of bears, elk, and unicorns. It leant the room a certain ominous air, that was only added to by the half a dozen or so girls staring at her with superior expressions. They ranged from ten years old to about fourteen, and all of them bar none wore fancier dresses than her.

“This is Merrise. She’s a local.” This was said by Amber as if she was describing some kind of mildly unsettling creature that grew in the bottom of a pond. “She’s my friend.” That was a bit better.

Amber pushed her slightly forwards, into the middle of the group. They were waiting for her to say something, to reveal whether she was mockable or not. “Uh, hi.” She waved at the girls, and several of them were shocked by her extra finger. She had to think of an opening, and tried to imagine what she’d do if Jenny was here. “Have any of you guys ever played DD and more D?” A sea of a half a dozen blank faces looked back at her. Off to a great start.

“No Mabel, we can’t swing by the kitchens first. We’ve got a job to do.”

“Aw, but by the time we get back the other guests will have eaten most of the buffet.”

“Then we’ll have to make this quick, won’t we?”

Their search of the house had been aimless so far. They wandered the upper hallways, enmeshed in wood-panels and landscape paintings. Mabel had questioned why the Northwests needed so many paintings of the valley, when they could have looked out the windows, and Pacifica explained it was about representing an idealised world. One free of poor people, mainly.

Mabel had brought her brother’s anomalous energy scanner to try and narrow down whatever might be occurring, but either they were in the eye of the storm and couldn’t pick up anything or there was simply nothing going on except some superstitious servants or party guests. It was an old building, full of creaks and dark passages. Plenty of room to unsettle someone without needing a mystical explanation.

Giving up on a technical solution, Mabel was now waving around a crystal dowsing rod. The polyhedral chunk of amethyst could supposedly suss out weird vibes. Pacifica was dubious, but Mabel swore by it. She swung the crystal around a blank wall where several tapestries had once hung. “Wouldn’t a congealed mass of concentrated madness-inducing substance be, I dunno, kind of obvious?”

Annoyed by her tone, Pacifica said, “Maybe it’s just more diffuse than the one Mason ran into? We don’t really know the first thing about ‘weirdness bubbles’” She made quote marks with her fingers, emphasising how dumb she found the phrasing. “Maybe they come and go and we happen to be unlucky today. Still beats hanging around downstairs and,” she shuddered “mingling.”

Mabel laughed. “Huh, I was worried that you were gonna do the whole ‘try and get back in the good books’ routine and leave me to do all the work.

“Oh please. I gave up on that idea after five minutes. That shit is exhausting.” She leaned against the wall and spun her ankles in the air, taking the strain off her heels. “I’d much rather be up here. I spend most days listening to songs for toddlers while cooking or watching Leah. Being a Mom can be tedious. Let Mason handle it for one day. Believe me, I’m excited as hell to investigate this mystery.”

“Awesome!” Mabel had been sullenly following her friend’s commands up ‘til now and with that weight off her chest perked up. “While we’re here we could visit your old bedroom.”

“No point. Don’t forget, I moved out when I was 13. I took all the stuff worth keeping. It’ll just be an empty room.”

“Yeah, but, won’t it have some emotional resonance?”

“I doubt it,” Pacifica said curtly, dismissing the idea entirely. She stared at her darkened nails, checking for cracks. “If you’ve got some plan of exorcising my childhood demons or whatever, you can forget it. I’m done navel-gazing. The only reason I’m here now is for Merrise, and to uncover a haunting. Come on.” She hurried down the corridor, wanting to sweep the place as fast as possible.

Mabel picked up her skirts to catch up. “I don’t think I’ve ever been in this part of the house before. Nice place if you can afford it, I guess.”

“You guess right, though decadence takes a certain personality type that I don’t think you match. You’d get bored too easily, wasting away in all the unending rooms.”

“Could be fun though, on these polished floors. You could get a pair of rollerskates and race around the place.”

“Always look on the bright side. I haven’t been back here since…”

“Since you broke through years of generational trauma? Since you burned all your bridges with your parents? Since-“

“SinceI got my architectural degree, I was going to say. This place is an architect’s nightmare, all the secret winding passages overlapping each other.” She knocked on the wall with the back of her fist. “Yep, hollow space here. Maybe you could say it’s an efficient use of space, but it’s claustrophobic. Do you know how useful a secret passage is in everyday life?”

“Um, no.”

“Not at all! It just becomes a convenient shortcut at best, and if you don’t know where the entrance is then what’s even the point? Another perfect example of wastefulness. McGucket had the right idea.” The old inventor had converted the west wing of the manor into a vast workshop for his experiments, building giant robots and tinkering at the edges of fringe science. “Gut the place and turn it into something useful.”

Mabel rattled the handle of another door, peeked inside and came away disappointed. “Yep, it’s another guest bedroom. All these halls and you know what we haven’t passed yet? Somewhere to take a whiz.”

“Tell me about it. Apart from the ensuites you’re out of luck. You can blame 19th century plumbing for that. I could talk for hours on the subject.” Mabel gave her a look that said ‘please don’t’. “Of course I’m more aware of these things, ever since pregnancy. I’ve had to be on bathroom watch.” She winced.

“So, what you’re saying is that we do need to find your bedroom? Hooray.”

“Ha ha, nice try. Let’s look in here.”

The upper east wing dining room was shrouded in darkness. Pacifica tugged on the thick curtains and let in a shaft of light, possibly the first illumination the room had been granted in decades. The dinner table was laid out with silver cutlery, buried under a layer of dust and cobwebs. Pacifica found where she’d always used to sit for those formal events when her parents wanted to cozy up to another industrialist and their family. She ran a finger along one of the knives. It still shone like new under all the grime.

Mabel admired her reflection in a spoon. “I guess the McGuckets weren’t big on table service.”

“They let all the servants go. Even the monkey butlers. Didn’t see the need to be waited on hand and foot.” She let the knife clatter down on the table. The sound echoed around the high-ceilinged room. “Let’s try somewhere else, there’s nothing in here but the ghosts of regret. Maybe some spiders too.”

“Wait, over here.” Mabel was intent on the spoon, like she was trying to bend it with her mind. “Something’s wrong with my reflection.”

Pacifica was about to berate her friend, to tell her that’s what all reflective concave surfaces are like, when she saw something flicker in the reflection. She took the spoon and studied it. The mirror image exaggerated her forehead to a hideous degree, so she adjusted the angle. As Mabel had said, there was something on the periphery, a portion of something larger lurking there. She held the spoon out in front of her decisively.

“Silver mirrors can trap ghosts. That’s the first thing Mason taught me.”

“A haunted spoon? Really?”

Pacifica put the spoon down. “I don’t think this is the main prison. There’s probably another mirror somewhere else in the house that this effect is radiating out from.”

“Cool, so there is a real poltergeist! Hopefully it’s not one I’ve subconsciously caused by accident, that’d make a change from last time. Do you know where we can find a bigger mirror?”

Pacifica sighed. “Yeah, I do. Downstairs.” She rushed off, once again leaving Mabel in the dust.

“Hey, slow down. I’m not used to running in these things.” She waggled an ankle, showing off the reddened skin around her heels. Pacifica could only laugh. Finally, running in heels gave her the advantage.

They took a circuitous route, out into the rear garden (through the territory of another flock of peacocks) and round to avoid the main hall. No need to give Gina a half-hearted update, it would only make them look unprofessional. When they neared their target, a locked door blocked the path. Pacifica recommended finding Tate and asking for the master key, but Mabel knelt down and examined the lock.

"No hay problema, hermana. I’ll be through in a jiffy.” Her satchel contained a pair of metal prongs which she inserted into the keyhole.

As she twisted the lockpicks around, the gloves somehow rendered her fingers more delicate. Mabel Pines wasn't someone Pacifica thought of as delicate. Mabel was... rough and tumble, hyperactive. Where her brother was considerate, she would rush in. Creative, but fuelled by manic bursts. Then again, all that knitting must take a fine patience. Her mechanical skill, evidenced by the bike she'd ridden in on, was also a fine-tuned expertise.

Apart from the click of the lockpick, the hallway was silent. Pacifica folded her arms, getting antsy waiting about. “By the way, the last time I was here was when I was 17. It wasn’t a huge deal.”

“I don’t remember it being a small deal,” Mabel muttered to herself. Skirting the topic, she asked, “Who was your other friend from back then? She and Gina used to stick to you like glue. Tiffany?”

“That’s right. Haven’t seen her since…” She had to dredge her memories. “My birthday. We were 15. Went to a concert with her, a boyband. Can’t remember which one. Gina had flu or something, and it all got kind of frosty between us after that, since I was shifting more to being friends with you guys. Gina and Tiffany wouldn’t have been seen dead hanging around with Candy and Grenda.”

“Tiffany, yeah. With the red hair.” Mabel nodded. “You know we used to date, one summer. Well, I say that, it was more like just the one date. Well, I say one.” She grimaced. “More like a quick fumble outside a club at 2am.”

Pacifica wrinkled her nose. “Please, Mabel, remember this simple thing: I don’t want to know about your love life. Will you try to act distinguished for once in your life?”

“Hey chill, I’m not aiming for Gina if you’re worried. I don’t think she’s my type.”

Pacifica wasn’t entirely convinced by that. Even if Mabel was married now that didn’t seem to stop her. “I still can’t believe she came back. She’s treating Gravity Falls like it’s an ‘underrated gem’ of a town, a secret getaway. Some shit like that, so she can post selfies online.”

“I guess it makes some sense. Me, you, and Dipper all wanted to come back here. After what we experienced as kids this place had such a magical touch on our lives. That or it’s just Grunkle Ford’s Law of Weirdness Magnetism coming back to haunt us.”

“Are you calling me weird?” Pacifica shot back, acidly.

“Well yeah,” Mabel replied, choosing to ignore the venom in her friend’s voice. “We’re all a bit strange, outsiders. Even you, Princess Above-it-All.” She stuck out her tongue. Pacifica, for all the disdain she tried to muster, couldn’t find that reaction anything other than charmingly simple.

She sighed and shook her head. “I don’t know. Right now it’s like every instinct is telling me to fit in, to stay in line. To not make a bad show of things in front of everybody.”

“It’s this place. And your old friend being around.” Mabel shrugged. “You won’t feel like that after tonight, I promise.”

“How do you make it all sound so easy?” Pacifica laughed dryly.

“Because it is!” Mabel’s smile was infectious. “It’s like this pointless ‘disguise’.” She briefly paused her lockpicking to take a lopsided photo of Pacifica using Dipper’s camera. “Gina already knows we’re related. I can’t embarrass you any more than that.”

Pacifica scratched her cheek, slightly paranoid of Mabel showing that photo to anyone in case it was unflattering. She tried to banish that impulse. “You only live once.”

“I heard someone tell me once that that’s not true. You actually live every single day of your life, if you seize the moment.”

“Who said that?” Pacifica asked, skeptical.

“I can’t remember. Probably someone super wise.”

“Be honest, you got that off a motivational quote from a Buzzfeed personality quiz.”

“Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t. The point still stands. You can’t get wrapped up in the bigger picture all the time.”

Pacifica laughed to herself and put her arms around Mabel in a hug. “How did we ever become friends?”

“What?”

“I mean, with Mason it makes sense. He’s cynical, like me, and a real sarcastic little bitch when he wants to be. Sure, we hated each other at first, but our personalities don’t clash that much. Meanwhile there’s you.”

“Exactly! I’m the sunshine to your raincloud. Opposites attract, you know.”

“Is that why you married Zera? I still don’t quite get that, she’s like the moodiest person I know.”

“She’s not moody, more…” Mabel stuck her tongue out and searched for the word. “...taciturn. Besides, you’re one to talk.”

“Excuse me? I am NOT moody, I’m-” She realised she was raising her voice. “Realistic about the state of the world.”

Mabel gently prised her friend’s arms off of her shoulders and got back to work on the lock. “Paz, you don’t have to overthink these things. We’re friends because of all we’ve been through together. We don’t have to have identical personalities to match up. You and Gina used to have the vibe going on, now look at the two of you. You haven’t spoken in forever.”

“You’re right.” Pacifica leant against the wood panelling and took a deep breath. “Maybe… maybe it’s time I fixed that. If it wasn’t for this ghost…” She frowned, then gave a dry laugh. “I think part of me wanted tonight to be a normal event. The kind I remember from when I was a kid. Because yeah, I did hate being forced into it, but there was something about all that elegance and beauty. I do find value in it, outside of all the social rituals and bullshit. I shouldn’t let my parents prejudice everything I do in life. They aren’t even here in-person and look how I’m letting them affect me, sheesh.”

“That’s the spirit. Ooh, and speaking of the ghost.” The door opened with a satisfying click. Mabel put away her tools and held the door open. “After you, Mrs Pines.”

“No, I insist, you first, Mrs Pines.”

Mabel grinned and took the first step inside. “Careful, you don’t want to confuse anyone else into thinking we’re the ones who are hitched.”

“Never in a million years,” Pacifica said cheerfully. Down the end of the newly unlocked passageway was a small nook containing a plush sofa and chairs with twin chandeliers. In any other home it might seem extravagant, but here it was a modest space. “Welcome to the sitting parlour.”

“Wow, decked out in white on white. Someone in your family was ahead of the trend on minimalist colour schemes.”

“Don’t get me started on it. Doesn’t look like anyone’s been here in…” Pacifica scanned along the thick rug, noticing a small area where the stitching was a little messed up. Anyone looking with less than a keen eye for detail would have missed it. Except for Pacifica, the selfsame person who had rubbed her shoe in the carpet to make a point. “13 years. We’d already moved out by then, of course. That was only a short visit.”

They looked up at the far wall, where a wide mirror stretched the length of the room. Pacifica stood before it, searching for hidden depths. Nothing jumped out, so she admired her reflection. Narcissistic, perhaps, but her mood had taken a hit today and it gratified her that she could still pull off this look in her thirties. Her dress appeared as pure black, the subtle blue indistinguishable through a layer of dust. Beside her, Mabel had her lower lip stuck out, displeased by what she saw in the glass.

“I knew the curls were a bad idea. It doesn’t match with the shaved part. I look like a mess.”

“No, no, I think you look good.” Pacifica stood behind Mabel, placing her hands supportingly on her friend’s shoulders.

“You promise it doesn’t look like an explosion in a hedge factory?”

“I promise.”

“Well, if we’re giving out free fashion advice… I think you’d look better if you cut your hair short. Like you did as a teenager, that bob cut. It would work better with that fluffy scarf.”

“It’s called a stole. Anyway, I like my hair long.” She twisted her head sideways into profile, trying to picture what Mabel was suggesting. “Although in this dress, maybe not a terrible idea.”

“Exactly, then you can have short hair while Dipper has long hair. What a twist that would be!”

“Ok, now you’ve put me off the idea. We can trade style ideas later.” She peered into the mirror, trying to see past her reflection. She examined the edges of the glass, running her hands along the frame, wondering if she’d find some kind of switch.

“Here, try this.” Mabel passed her the crystal.

When Pacifica held it up to the mirror the picture started to flex, like holding a magnet up to an old tv. She took a step back, trying to take in the whole mirror. “There’s something here we need to draw out. It’s fogged up.” Lacking a cloth to clean the dirty glass, she reluctantly removed her stole and used it to wipe down the surface. “Do you know any spells to tease out ghosts? I can’t remember if Mason knows any incantations general enough.”

Mabel was already silently mouthing something, her palms pressed together with one up and the other down. She exhaled like she was blowing out a candle, and purple sparkles flew towards the glass. The mirror shook, dislodging the dust and leaving a clearer image of the two women. Then, between them, coming into focus, the outline of a third.

Pacifica leaned forwards to study the woman’s details. Her clothes were the immediate point of interest. Her fashion was from the turn of the last century: White shirt-sleeves and a neatly pressed waistcoat, with a gold chain for a fobwatch. Long skirt and riding boots. A wide brimmed boater sat at a jaunty angle on her head. She looked like a dashing heroine out of serialised adventure fiction. Pacifica examined the ghost’s face, trying to discern her identity. She had black hair, not like any she knew from her family’s lineage, who skewed towards lighter hues. It wasn’t another Corduroy ghost.

Then she noticed that the ghost’s lips were moving. “She’s trying to say something!” Pacifica strained to hear, but there was nothing.

“It’s a mirror,” Mabel said bluntly. “It only reflects light, not sound.”

“Surely it can’t be that simple. Maybe it’s because the mirror is so big.” Pacifica pressed her ear to the glass and could feel a slight vibration. “The sound waves are spread over the whole surface, we can’t get a clear signal. Is that how it works?”

“It’s how this one works.” Mabel shrugged, before her hands jumped into a flurry of movement. The ghost similarly began making shapes with her hands. Mabel made several symbols with her hands, too fast for Pacifica to track. She thought they were more spells at first, before realisation dawned.

“You know sign language?” Pacifica asked.

Mabel nodded and stuck out her tongue, lost in thought. “A bit. I’m not fluent, but I can say hello. And ask where the nearest bathroom is.”

“Great, real helpful, especially in this building, as we’ve established. What is our resident mirror prisoner trying to convey?”

“Not entirely sure. She keeps repeating a phrase. Something about wind and maybe a bird, then she says ‘trapped’.” Pacifica watched the woman stick two fingers against her throat while her lips contorted into a snarl. Mabel said, “Yeah, hard to misread that one.”

“Wouldn’t lip-reading be easier?”

Mabel patted her satchel guiltily. “I might have forgotten to bring my glasses. I didn’t want to look like a nerd in front of a bunch of strangers. I’ve been getting by ok, though everything looks more or less like a big smurge, this ghost lady included.” Pacifica stared at her, astonished that someone could forget something so important. “Oh yeah, and what’s your excuse?”

Sheepishly, Pacifica scratched her neck. “I… can’t lip-read. Terrible at it, in fact.”

“Typical,” Mabel said, glad that they were equally inept. “Hey, do you remember the wi-fi password for this place? I could load up more words on my phone.”

“I’ve got a better idea.” Pacifica stood close to the mirror and exhaled onto it. The glass steamed up, and Pacifica traced letters with a finger. The words ‘we’re here to help’ were left as an impression on the mirror. “She might have to read backwards, but that should be easier.”

The ghost nodded, aware of the message. In the foggy space below Pacifica’s message more letters began to form out of nowhere, without the ghost even moving her fingers. ‘ǫniwʞɔɒlᙠ ɘlɒǫidA mɒ I’

Mabel read the words aloud. “‘I am Abigale Blackwing’. Oh, gale, wind, I get it. Who is she?” She looked to Pacifica, as if she had all the answers. But she was straining her memory without much luck.

“I think… Abby Northwest. That name does-”

“Ring a bell? Oh, sorry, sore subject.”

“Stop walking on eggshells, May, for Christ's sake. I don’t care. I was trying to say I think I’ve seen that name before, in the family history books.”

“Your family has their own history books? Man, if I thought you were old money before… What relation is she to you? Grandma? Second cousin twice removed? Grauntie?”

“What?”

“Great aunt.”

Pacifica scowled. “No. I mean, I don’t know. I’ll have to check.” Another sentence was forming on the mirror, one letter at a time. Pacifica wanted the words to hurry up, to finish this. “Come on, write faster. We don’t know how long you can manifest for.” In the end only one word was written on the glass.

ɿɘƚƚɒʜƨ

“Oh, simple as that? No problem.” Mabel lifted a hammer out of her satchel and raised it above her head.

“Wait!” Pacifica stood before her, blocking out the reflection of the ghost. “This is a bad idea. What if she’s dangerous?”

“What if she isn’t?”

“Oh, that’s just childish. We could be unleashing something that could threaten the whole town for all we know.”

Mabel weighed the hammer in her hand. “She’s not done anyone any harm so far. She’s clearly not connected to Dipper’s bubbles either, he got it wrong. Sometimes you have to just go with your gut, do what feels right.”

“But what if she was trapped for a reason?”

“Do you believe that? In this place?”

Pacifica looked at the parlour, in all its untouched splendour. She remembered the last being that had haunted the occupants of this manor, the injustice that had been allowed to prevail for over a century. The ghostly apparition in the glass stared at her, pleading silently and mouthing what looked like a word. Pacifica might not be good at lip-reading, but it was impossible not to tell what she meant. ‘Please’. Pacifica closed her eyes and touched her friend’s arm. “Ok. Smash the fucking thing.”

“With pleasure.” Mable reeled back her arms and hit the mirror with a two handed strike. Pacifica winced at the sound of smashing glass, and stepped back in fright as shards rained down around her feet. For a second she saw images of the ghostly woman refracted through multiple shards, before they faded away and a blue, luminous swirl coalesced against the wall where the mirror had once been. The room began to violently shake, and Pacifica clamped her hands on a nearby chaise longue. Mabel wasn’t so lucky, teetering onto her backside and staring up and the gathering energy. There was a crackle like thunder, before the smoky eminence flared upwards and beyond the roof.

The sudden temperature drop nearly took Pacifica off her feet to join her companion. The life had been sucked out of the place. Her breath misting in front of her, she said, “It’s done. She’s gone.”

Caught up in her dress, Mabel flailed and rolled over onto her front. She pushed her curly hair out of her eyes. “Whoopee! We did it! I guess! Yeah! Adventure Gals!”

“We’re not called that,” Pacifica said, her attention elsewhere.

“Well I’m Mystery Twins with Dipper, we need our own name.”

Pacifica stared at her, frowning. “No. No we do not.”

Mabel craned her neck, failing to manage to look directly upwards. “Where’d she go? Ghost lady, Blackwing?”

Pacifica didn’t know. But it felt like something right had taken place. A release, another exorcism of this blasted place. She took off her stole and used it to safely pick up a piece of the broken mirror. She studied her reflection in the glass, now on its own. “Abigale,” she said to herself. “I’ll find out who you were. I promise.”

“Well that was hardly blood pouring out of the walls or mounted heads accusing me of irredeemable murder.”

“Let’s call that progress in your mental health journey.”

They’d returned to the ballroom. Gina’s associates had gathered in their absence, and there was a lively atmosphere of conversation. Lots of drinking as well, of a very expensive vintage that Pacifica wasn’t going to pass up trying for free. Of Gina herself, there was no sign. One of the guests had informed them she was tied up with the caterers, nitpicking some detail of the main course that was about ready for serving.

Mabel, still starving, was tapping her foot. “I can’t believe we solved a whole ghost mystery - one on the easier side, to be fair - and they still haven’t even brought out the main buffet. Rip off.”

Pacifica only half-listened to her friend, scanning the crowd to see if there was anyone she recognised. So far so good, but she was on-guard for any of them to come over and try small-talk with her. “It’s crazy to think that if it wasn’t for Mason’s scan no-one might have ever known about the ghost. She’d still be framed there, up on the wall, for all time.”

Mabel nodded, but her heart wasn’t in it. “Mind-blowing, sure. Now that it’s over I wanna unwind. This is a party, for crying out loud, I don’t wanna be so gloomy.”

“We really should do it again sometime. The social event thing more than the ghost hunt. Though maybe not in the place I learned to walk. “

“I dunno, it’s also the place where you learned to be yourself. For good or bad, it shaped you into the Pacifica you are today.”

Pacifica indulged her friend with a smile. “That’s a nice sentiment, but I’ve literally spent more than half my life not living in this dump. I think I became myself in the 18 years since we moved out. Mabel, before we go, I want to say that I’m sorry I didn’t appreciate you. I tried to bury you away where no-one could see.”

“Aw, that’s ok Paz. I get that you were worried about presentation. Here of all places.”

“It was jealousy, I think. I put in all this effort to look gorgeous and stunning, and then you roll up on your Harley like it’s nothing.”

Mabel raised a single eyebrow. “You, jealous of the way I look? Today really is bizarro day.” She saw that Pacifica was still unsettled, so added, “Hey, it still took work for me as well. You’re not the only one who has to take ages to look this good. Try and remember that next time you feel crummy in comparison, ok?” Mabel pursed her lips and made a sexy pose. It left Pacifica blushing, which didn’t go unnoticed. “If you’re feeling weird about it then don’t worry. Like I said, rich snobs aren’t my type, so that excludes you too.”

Pacifica stammered, “What, no, I didn’t mean it like that- I’m not-.”

“Aw, baby’s first bi panic. You love to see it.” Pacifica was mortified until Mabel realised she’d touched a nerve. “I’m kidding. Geez, you need to learn how to relax.”

Trying to move on from the embarrassment, Pacifica eyed the main doors with a look like she was being hunted. “Perhaps I should head out now. I’ve taken up more than enough of our host’s goodwill-”

“Maybe you should talk to Gina first,” Mabel said, cutting off her friend’s excuses. “You keep acting like she’s the worst of the worst, a gateway drug into your parents’ lifestyle. She’s probably as confused about meeting up again as you are. She might, just might, want to be friends again. That’s some value you can find, I’m sure.”

“Speak of the devil.” Pacifica downed her glass as Gina strode into the room.

Her manner was unruffled, head held high. “False alarm, people, everything is sorted. Dinner will be served in five.”

She quickly noticed Pacifica’s return and homed in on her. She once again didn’t even seem to be aware of Mabel, but the other girl didn’t mind. She patted Pacifica gently in the back and wandered off. If she was attending this fancy do she might as well flirt with some of the rich folks. Who knew, it might pay off down the line, especially if she could persuade them to visit her store.

When Gina arrived in front of Pacifica, she was sweating slightly. A little less refined than her big entrance might have implied. “Darling, you’re back. So, everything dealt with behind closed doors?”

“You bet,” Pacifica drawled, wanting nothing more than to end the paranormal conversation and stick to the personal. She flicked her hair to the side like the topic was beneath her. “It wasn’t all it was hyped up to be. Everything going alright down here?”

“Oh, you know. High society - the extravagance is outstanding, and the company is pleasantly delightful once we’re all mildly tipsy. Ha! Though I must be honest, it is nice to see old friends from elsewhere. They get a taste of Gravity Falls in the bargain, a chance to see how us girls rough it out.” She winked and laid a fake punch on Pacifica’s arm.

Pacifica matched Gina’s smile, but her words were more serious. “Gina, can we talk for a moment or two?”

“Oh, of course.” Gina’s eyes darted to the left and right as Pacifica led them away from the main crowd,

One isolated, Pacifica didn’t feel the need to mince words. She spoke as simply as she could, no honeyed words or double-speak. “If you want me to leave, you only have to say so. I understand.”

“What do you mean, dear?” Gina seemed at a loss for words. “Leave, why would you do that? The party’s only beginning.”

“I get it, alright. You don’t want me messing up your new life here in the Falls. The ghost thing, that was a good excuse.”

“Excuse? No, no it wasn’t that, I swear. I wanted you here, it was just… I didn’t know how to talk to you. I needed a bit of space, that’s all. And I didn’t know what people would think.” She whispered, “You’re the one they all talk about, the… ‘the bitch who fell from grace’.” Imagine the gossip!”

Now Pacifica did feel like raising her voice. “So give me a pointless quest to get rid of me instead? Is that how it is?”

“No! I- I didn’t want you to have to face it. I was shielding you. I thought you weren’t that same old teenager who I remembered terrorising everyone at school, who always had to be queen bee.” Gina looked genuinely exasperated, and for a second Pacifica didn’t know how to react to such a pure emotion. “I thought you’d… changed.”

Pacifica blinked, realising that her tone had been way off. She’d misread the situation. Time to start again. “Gina, I want to apologise. I’ve entirely neglected my responsibilities as your guest.” The sudden swerve seemed to confuse Gina even more, but Pacifica carried on. “In fact I’ve been a frigid bitch.”

In a move Pacifica found priceless, Gina’s jaw dropped open. “Whuh? But I-”

“I’ve been acting all weird and reserved, treating you like a symptom of this place.” She sneered and gestured at the grand hall, though Gina didn’t quite understand. “None of that was your fault. We were all just too young to break out of the expected patterns. So let’s start fresh. Because I think it would be nice to be friends. The kind that don’t have to put on a performance.”

Gina pursed her lips. “Oh. Well that’s… I don’t quite…” She searched for a glass of champagne. “This is more direct than I was expecting. I knew all about your family’s fall from grace of course, but none of us ever knew the details. Tiffany and I felt like it wasn’t something we were permitted to discuss. Then you drifted away, hanging out with a different sort of people.” Pacifica could hear the disdain coming from that description. But it was instilled, something Gina said automatically and seemed ashamed of afterwards. “I didn’t think you wanted me in your life anymore.”

“I didn’t, that’s true.” Pacifica said it unreservedly. There was no point sugar-coating it. “You were a reminder of my old self, the me that followed my parents’ every command. I always thought you only hung out with me because of the money anyway.”

“It did sometimes feel like I was under your shadow. Or, that there was this halo around you. That by getting close some of that golden light could, I don’t know, rub off on me. All this,” she waved at the opulent surroundings, “was my attempt to emulate that stuff. To embrace the finer things.”

Pacifica had a sneaking sense of pride, before squashing the emotion. “And isn’t it just suffocating?”

“God yes.” Gina laughed guiltily, then something snapped and the two women were giggling uncontrollably. Heads turned to watch in confusion, which only made their laughter louder. Gina covered her mouth. “I can’t believe this. What would Brett think?”

“Hey, forget about all that.” Pacifica put her arms around her old friend and hugged her tightly. “The only person who should care is you. Don’t let anyone else’s opinions cloud your thoughts.” For the first time all evening Pacifica didn’t regret coming. Not even a little bit.

“Pacifica, are you crying?” Gina asked.

“Yes,” she said, choking with laughter and wiping her cheeks. She broke the hug and smiled. “It’s a good thing, trust me. I’d better go, to be honest. Much as I’d love to chat, I think I have had about enough as I can take of getting reminded about my shitty childhood. It’s just getting old at this point. I’d prefer you to know the real me, Gina, not just the vapid caricature my parents tried to mold me into. I am so much more than that. I have a family that I am so proud of even if I don’t know what I’m doing half the time. I'm an adventurer. I’ve been all around the world and into other dimensions! I’ve been an architect, an author.”

“Oh yeah, I saw one of your books once.” Gina was excited, before blushing. “I was too scared to read it.”

“Don’t worry, you’re not in them. But I really must be going. That tall guy in the tux over by the ice sculpture looks like he’s about to try his luck asking me about the stock market.” Gina laughed. “I can’t be held liable for what might be the result of that.”

“I believe that. Well, text me, anyway. It’d be nice to talk again, somewhere quieter. You can bring your husband; Mason is it? We can talk about the real you.”

“That’d be lovely. Really, it would. Now where has Merrise got to?”

“Oh, that’s easy.” Gina nodded towards the side of the hall with a knowing grin. Two kids were chasing one another, stumbling over their cumbersome dresses. “She’s been quite an influence.”

Bewildered, Pacifica followed the two girls out of the hall. They were engaged in some kind of game involving dragons and knights. She was astonished when she found Merrise, sitting on the floor of the drawing room with a paper map spread out in front of her covered in shiny dice. A circle of eager listeners surrounded her, leaning forwards as if hypnotised.

“You enter the dark forest and come upon a babbling brook. It speaks fluent English. Do you dare cross? Roll a 12 for initiative. Oh, hi Mom.”

“What in the world-”

“Shh.” One of the girls was hanging on Merrise’s every word and even the intrusion of an adult couldn’t break the reverie.

Gina came in, immediately spotting her daughter. “Amber, I’m afraid your new friend has to leave now.” There was a chorus of disappointment from all the girls as Merrise picked herself up.

“Remember, message me, we can pick up where we left off on video call!” She said a quick goodbye to Amber, who was as won over as the rest of the girls. They exchanged promises to meet up when Amber started school in a few days, and then Merrise ran to her mother’s side. “You look happy. Did something happen?”

Pacifica hadn’t realised her mood change was that visible. “No, and yes.”

Merrise narrowed her eyes. “That’s very clear.” She shook her head, clearly considering it ‘adult stuff’ and not worth asking further about. “You ready to leave?” Merrise took her mother’s hand, which Pacifica gave a small squeeze to thank her for the implication of support.

“Yes, though I’ll let May know first.”

A wave of goodbyes followed them out of the drawing room, with the chaotic sound of children playing fantasy stories remaining. Probably the first time any kids had laughed in this house… ever, Pacifica thought.

Gina strolled with them back to her domain as party host. After all this time she finally perceived Mabel, amidst a trio of partygoers. Pacifica could just hear her conversation drifting over. “Then I said, ‘he’s not a hyper-coyote, he's a were-coyote’! You should have seen Paz’s face. No? Maybe you had to be there.”

Gina studied the interaction closely. “She’s part of your family too? You must introduce me.”

“I wouldn’t try it,” Pacifica said, amusing herself. “Not if you want to keep your marriage with Brett intact.”

“But I thought she was already… the wedding ring.”

“That won’t stop Mabel Pines.” Catching Gina off-guard, Pacifica yelled at the top of her voice, cutting through the crowd. “Hey, May, we’re going now!” Mabel, the only one not surprised by Pacifica’s shout, held up an ok symbol. “That’s goodbyes done with. Catch you later, Gina.” Pacifica left her reconciled friend in a state of mild confusion as they parted for the night. Always leave them hanging, she supposed.

As they exited into the warm night, Merrise took a look back at the party. “Are you sure you don’t wanna stick around?”

This gathering of office workers, construction workers, and hobbyists, the NOUHS, had been Dipper’s idea about ten months ago. For all the strange and unaccountable events that took place in Gravity Falls, concrete proof of extraterrestrials was still obscure outside the valley. A few amateur stargazers posted on forums about odd sightings and lights in the sky. But Oregon was big, and covered in untamed woodland. Gravity Falls managed to get lost in the noise-to-signal ratio by local alien seekers and cryptid hunters. It was a fertile space for conspiracy theories to populate, even amongst suburban dads. Dipper had of course been monitoring these little groups - not only out of a desire to protect his home, but of his own genuine curiosity in the unknown.

But his family life had changed dramatically last year and suddenly looking for aliens seemed a bit too close to home. Instead he’d come up with a new idea.

The group had already been prepped on their search area, a site in the woods about 30 miles north of Gravity Falls. Safely outside the valley. Dipper stepped over the barrier at the edge of the woods, with Merrise dutifully following. The others started heading along the trail in their wake. The air was muggy from the first of the big summer heatwaves. “Dipper! Good man.” One of the dads, in a fishing jacket and slacks, came and slapped Dipper on the back, taking his breath away.

“Hi, Tom.” Dipper took a moment to recover his composure. He was used to the man’s energetic ways. “Ready for our quest?”

“Yessir, commander.” Tom gave him a mock salute, flicking his hand into the air. Tom Dillinger was Dipper’s ‘second-in-command’, or so he claimed. He had enough braggadocio to corral the other members of the group into line. Normally he worked indoors at a travel agent’s office, so these trips were a welcome outlet. He spent most of his downtime on various conspiracy forums, hungry for any scrap of the strange and mysterious. Dipper’s group was like a signal in the sky for him.

Tom’s son, slouching his way along the trail, ignored the two adults and ran to catch up with Merrise. “Sup, Space-girl.”

Ryan was 14 years old, two and a half years older than Merrise. Dipper remembered how at her age older teenagers had seemed to tower over him. Merrise however was tall for her age and outstripped Ryan in the height department. “Hi to you too, shorty,” she said, smirking.

Despite their dads’ alien-based connection the kids had actually met first, at a baseball game. Ryan’s visiting Pioneers had gone up against the Gravity Falls Gasoliers. Merrise had once heard her mother remarking, “What kind of town would have such a stupid name for their Little League team?”, but then neither of her parents had ever been much into sports. She found it fun, at least when Olivia Breen wasn’t around to pick on her. She’d asked Jenny later if she knew why the team were called that and after checking the museum records it turned out they were named for the lamplighters who had supplied gas lighting to town in the late 19th century. The name had stuck around all that time.

Merrise always loved learning about the minor details of history. After all, Earth history was still mostly new to her, so the more she could know about her home the better. Before she’d been adopted she knew nothing of the past, just a never-ceasing now of the war and the streets and hunger driving her every action. Now she had the freedom to spend evenings like this one, exploring the wilderness in search of discovery, enriching her mind at the same time. Ryan was happy to listen to her natter away about the past, although he preferred to hear about ancient battles in far off countries over local, everyday history. Although honestly he would rather talk about tv shows or movies. The few times Dipper had presented some amateur astronomy lessons had bored him to tears.

At the edge of the clearing, the group passed the burnt-out remains of old campfires before losing sight of their parked vehicles. Penned in by ranks of tree trunks on either side, the dirt path wound into the interior of the forest without deviation. Occasional metal signs presented reminders to avoid forest fires and to stay away from bears and other dangerous animals. It was nothing two dozen men and their kids couldn’t handle. They had further to go before they’d diverge from the neatly ordered route.

Tapping away at his phone, Ryan swore. “Stupid outdoors. I can’t get any signal.”

Merrise peered over at his device. “Is that a Chiu-Tech 30X?”

She reached out, but Ryan swooped the phone out of reach. “Only-child privileges. I’ve got so many aunts and uncles and no-one to share with.”

Merrise let out a frustrated sigh. “You’re so lucky. My sister gets all the attention, especially since her birthday was last week. And then she got chicken pox. No fair, I could barely get a word in.”

“Sounds rough, Space-girl.” This was Ryan’s nickname for her. Not the most imaginative, but she was admittedly the only female member of their society. Her ‘mutant’ extra-fingers sealed the seal. If he only knew how ironic the name truly was.

“No fancy modern technology will help us out here.” Dipper was shaking his head at Ryan’s naivety, expecting to get a perfect connection out here. “Not even Miss Chiu’s latest model is a match for one of these bad boys.” He extended the antenna of a blocky walkie-talkie, admiring it with pride.

Ryan shook his head, sneering as Dipper walked away. “Your dad’s such a dork.”

“He’s practical,” she replied defensively. She had her own high-powered radio in her backpack for two-way contact. Changing the subject, she said, “You still seeing that girl from Condon?

“Who, Laila? Yeah, we’re back together.”

She laughed to herself. “How long’s that gonna last this time?”

“Laugh all you want, Pines.” He couldn’t help but smile. He and Merrise had a way of getting under each others’ skin that he found endearing. She stood up for herself even against older kids.

Ahead of them, Dipper held up a fist and spoke to the whole group. He projected his voice, audible to kids and adults alike. “Ok, the reports centre around this region. Locals say they saw three concentric circles of light skimming low over the forest. There are a couple of trails. We’ll split up and meet back in, say, an hour. It looks pretty well maintained, but stay on the paths if you can, we don’t want any heroics.” The sun had just set, so hopefully that would be enough to dissuade anyone making a fool of themselves by traipsing into the undergrowth. Off-track this was rougher country than back home, with fewer amenities nearby if something went wrong. “Oh, and keep your phone cameras at the ready for any Unidentified Landed Objects.”

Ryan and Merrise, deep in conversation about school or tv, wandered down one of the other paths, leaving Dipper with Tom. To Dipper’s dismay, the other man was loading shells into a sawn-off shotgun. “Did you have to bring that?”

Tom snapped the barrels into place. “Self-defence. If we run into ET we need to show him what for.”

“Our society is meant to be a peaceful one.” He shook his head, knowing he’d never win this debate. Not that it mattered in practical terms, since they hadn’t ever found anything on any of the six previous outings.

Tom nodded ahead at the path, where the kids were vanishing round a corner. “Boy’s getting real good at this practical survival stuff. That Corduroy fella you put me in touch with really knows his stuff. Nice to see the kids get along well. You should come over sometime, bring the family for a cookout, meet the wife.”

“I’d love to, but I think Emma-Sue still has it in for me from when we were kids.” Dipper shuddered. “You get pigeonholed as a jerk one time… I’d have thought anyone would move on from that by now.”

“Ha, believe you me, Emma-Sue never moves on from anything. It’s like stirring up a rattlesnake, keep your distance! A bit like your Pacifica too.”

“‘Ain’t that the truth.” They walked in tandem on a lonely winding path, fenced in on either side by wooden barriers.

“That’s what this is all about, isn’t it.” Tom made a show of leaning the shotgun on his shoulder, the muzzle pointed up at the black sky. “Keeping our families safe from harm.”

“There are ways to do that which don’t involve violence.”

“Well la-di-da, Mr Gandhi. Look,” he put his arm around Dipper’s shoulder, “Dipper my man, it’s something you won’t understand. Little Merrise is adopted, so you got the speed hack for your kid, didn’t have to go through all that toddler stuff-”

“My other daughter is a one-year old right now!”

“-but sometimes you have to put away cowardice and embrace a true rugged lifestyle to protect the ones you love.”

“Eh, sure.” He rolled his eyes and slipped out of Tom’s grip. It was the same ‘manliness talk’ he’d been hearing since the day he got his first chest hair. Literally. He was older and wiser enough not to rise to his level. As for cowardice, well, Tom didn’t know half the things he’d done. Dipper didn’t need any kind of validation in that regard. The man was a middle-manager for crying out loud. This ‘woodlands experience’ was just a way of letting off steam, dipping a small toe into the wilderness. Any real danger was foreign to Tom.

Dipper felt the subtle thrum of his phone vibrating in his pocket. He whispered, “Aha. We’ve got something”, and straightened up, trying to look nonchalant. “Duty calls, Tom. Merrise needs me to swing by and bring her some painkillers. Teenage girls, hormones, you know.”

“Awkward time for any man. Say no more, bud.”

Strolling away and leaving Tom trekking happily along, Dipper took a few paces back, checked he was alone, then departed from the path. He crossed through a copse of dense tree trunks, his boots clomping over twigs and bracken. Once he was sure he was on his own, Dipper whipped out his walkie-talkie. “This is Icarus Indigo to Daedalus Scout, do you copy? Over.”

“Roger, commander.” Merrise sidled up behind Dipper and poked him in the side. “Are we in the clear?” He looked back along his improvised trail, then nodded. Almost instantly Merrise pulled off her perception filter and took a grateful breath. “You wouldn’t believe how good it feels to take that off after a few hours. Glad to get some air away from the NOUHS folks.”

This was the central part of Dipper’s plan in founding the group. It allowed him the perfect cover to investigate odd reports outside the valley, while allowing the other members with a vested interest a chance to get a taste of the adventurous lifestyle - all without ever accidentally stumbling into the real danger. Meanwhile, he and Merrise could get down to the actual business of concealing the supernatural.

“Tom and Ryan have the others scouting around Cooper’s Dale. But my energy scans point to higher ground. A few miles south from the Dyer State Wayside. You ready?”

“More than ready.” Merrise tightened the straps of her backpack, in lockstep with her father. This was the start of another adventure, that great sense of the unknown that they were about to dive into. “Hopefully we can scout around and make sure there’s nothing to spook the tourists come sun-up. Let’s get going!” She marched off into the brush, taking a few steps before stopping. “Uh, which way did you say? Dyer State…” She stuck her tongue out and started typing the name into her phone’s map app.

Dipper hid a satisfied smile when the spinning blue loading circle kept on going and going. “No signal out here. That’s why you don’t rely on technology out in the wild.” He took off his backpack. “This is more like it.” He unfolded a topographical map covering vast tracts of territory in the northern part of the state. He quickly pointed out the road-stop picnic area they’d need to hike towards. Holding the map in both arms, he turned around on the spot, squinting past the resolute trunks. “Hmm, although now we’re here, I’m not sure which direction I’m looking at.”

“Good thing my useless modern technology has a compass built in.” Merrise was proudly lifting up her phone, with a spinning indicator showing that he was currently looking eastwards.

“Best of both worlds,” he said, folding away the map. His daughter’s resourcefulness never failed to impress. “Thatta way. After you, scoutmaster.” He gestured onwards, and Merrise excitedly tramped ahead of him into the forest.

“Journal Entry 16, date: July 6th, twenty thirty. I’m here in the woods, an hour or two north of Gravity Falls, on the trail of a stranded traveller in space. This is an osten- aust-”

“Auspicious.”

“Thank you, an auspicious event. We- ooh, mind that bramble- we now hear from renowned adventurer, Mason Pines. Mason, your thoughts?”

Merrise handed the phone to her father without either of them breaking their stride. “Hello there. We’ve got an exciting night ahead of us, Miss Pines.” Merrise giggled. “We’re looking for unidentified flying objects, though witness descriptions are scarce. Could turn out to be nothing, but better safe than sorry. Now back to you in the studio.”

He handed back her phone and she stopped the recording. “Thanks, but we’re not in a studio.”

“Nevermind.” Smiling to himself, Dipper said, “Sometimes I forget that you actually are an alien.”

Merrise twirled her perception filter medallion around her finger. “First rule of NOUHS is that if you think you saw an alien, no you didn’t.” She’d removed her jacket and wrapped it around her waist. Even someone from a desert planet needed to shed layers in these temperatures, though she still had her hat pulled down tight on her head. Sentimental value, Dipper knew, could hold a lot of weight. He’d spent his teen years resolutely wearing a series of hats to cover his birthmark, and could picture how much he used to sweat in those things. Today he was perfectly happy hatless, his hair pulled back into a ponytail to keep out of his face.

They came to a tree branch that jutted out, blocking the way. Dipper lifted it out of the way with his arm, allowing Merrise to fit underneath. The pair emerged onto a gravel path that led to a break in the trees and a wooden fence. Dipper stood upon the viewpoint and shone his flashlight out over the rocky bluff. Sloping down in front of them was the forest, and in the distance a band of thicker darkness below the inkiness of the night sky showed the outline of a range of mountains. That boundary signified their home.

“Wish it was daytime,” Merrise said. “The view would be beautiful.”

Dipper switched off his flashlight. “Look up.”

The night sky was lit by thousands of twinkling lights. Merrise allowed her eyes to adjust. Her species had naturally better night-vision, so she was astounded by the constellations she could pick out. Father and daughter stood there, gazing at the stars, a cool breeze blowing in from the south.

Eventually a band of cloud passed overhead. Dipper stretched and decided it was time to move on. He consulted their map. They were nearly at the spot he’d circled in blue pen. The approach gave Merrise and excitable energy, as she dashed ahead to uncover the mystery.

While they walked, they talked. Dipper was grateful that his daughter was a chatter-mouth, always telling him about her school work, about her friends, and speculating about the mysteries of Gravity Falls. There was something undeniably nice about having someone in the family as equally intrigued by the strange and supernatural as he was.

“So, you and Ryan seem to be getting along,” Dipper said casually.

Merrise shrugged. “Yeah, he’s a good friend. Keeps bugging me to watch those animated cartoons he likes, but otherwise his head’s screwed on right.”

“Possibly, more than a friend?”

When Merrise realised what he was getting at she was appalled. “Ew, no Dad, not like that. He’s not my boyfriend. Are you kidding me? I thought you were supposed to be intelligent.”

Dipper seemed amused by her outraged reaction. “Relax. I know you’re not into him. It’s just my job as your dad to make you as embarrassed as possible.”

“Well you did a good job. Besides, Ryan’s three years older than me.”

“Never stopped me,” Dipper mumbled, drawing a curious look from Merrise.

She shook her head and laughed at her father’s odd behaviour, and chalked it up to a quirk in human nature. Then she stopped in her tracks and sniffed the air. Dipper saw her turn back, displeased. He caught it too, a reeking stench, possibly manure, drifting around them. The path took them downhill, out of the trees and into a patch of grassy meadow. They came to a wooden fence, with a pair of wooden planks inset to allow a way over to follow the trail. Merrise of course bounded over without a care.

When Dipper caught up and jumped down into the next field, he nearly bumped into her. She was standing stock still. “There’s something here,” she whispered.

Dipper felt the hairs on his arms stand to attention. Merrise was right, there was something dead ahead, a creature, vast in its bulk. Dipper tried to switch on his flashlight, but fumbled in the dark. The beast reared up a massive, horned head. It let out a sonorous, reverberating moo.

Dipper stood up straight. “Oh, it’s just a-”

His daughter let out a yelp of fear, causing Dipper to jab the switch on the flashlight. The bull staring them down was not expecting either of these things. Blinded by the beam, it began flailing its head around and stomping the ground. With a heavy exhale of breath it galloped towards father and daughter. “Run-” Dipper spun on his heels, but Merrise was already sprinting in the opposite direction. Putting caution to the wind, he barrelled after her. He leapt over the fence just before the bull reached them.

Dipper slipped in mud and tottered to a stop. He shone his light into the field, where half a dozen black and white cows were stomping towards them as a herd. They were merely inquisitive, not as disturbed as the bull that had charged them, who was stamping the ground impotently.

Bent over, sucking in air, Merrise flapped a hand towards the offending animal. “What the heck is that thing?”

Dipper put a hand on her shoulder. “Those were cows, Merrise. Mostly harmless, except we spooked the male.” Merrise was still shaking, not understanding that the monsters that had chased them were herbivores. “200 pounds of flesh charging at you can certainly be dangerous though. You did the right thing by getting out of the field.”

She looked up at him, heart still racing but gladdened that they were safe. Taking a step forwards, she glared at the mud disdainfully and tried to avoid the deeper sections. Her face suddenly contorted. “My leg.”

Dipper knelt down and examined her, shining the light at her knees. “Did you scrape something? Pull a muscle?”

“Just a twinge, I think.” She took a tentative step, limping at first but after a few steps she was walking normally.

“So long as you aren’t bleeding. We wouldn’t want the fellas seeing your green blood. Some things even a perception filter can’t disguise.”

“It’s fine, dad. Only a small tickle.”

“Ok, now I know you’re alright. Because you hate tickles!” He reached under her arms and brought about a ripple of giggles. Merrise wiggled in his grip, her fear melting away. She could almost forget that she had nearly been eaten by a menacing Earth cow. Dipper cast his light forlornly at the field. “We’ll have to go around, find another way. It’s not far now, shouldn’t be too hard.”

“If you say so.” Merrise gave one last wary look at the bull, who snorted in response. “What would you have done if that thing had been something worse?”

“I’ve got bear spray in my backpack. And arachnimorph spray. And dinosaur spray, gumberoo spray, amhuluk spray … you name it.”

Merrise laughed and loaded up her compass again. Half a mile on, having skirted the field and re-located the woodland trail, the pair found themselves at a wooden cabin. There were no lights inside, and the wood was warped and collapsed in places. The illuminated circle from the flashlight couldn’t discern any more detail of the structure.

“Is this it?” Merrise asked, tentatively placing a boot on the porch. The wood creaked, like it was going to snap. “Does look a little haunted.”

Dipper held out a blocky metal device with a small dial and flashing lights. It gave a few clicks and warbles, so he slapped it. “My energy detector isn’t conclusive.”

He started when his walkie-talkie blared. “Dipper. You there? Over.”

“Tom?” Dipper lifted the detector to his ear, then fumbled to open his pack and hit the switch to reply on the right device. “We’re A-ok. Just, uh, on our way back. Got a little lost, had to navigate around a farm, over.”

“Was worried about you two. We got a little lost as well. Ryan’s checked the map, say’s we’re at some wayside. Dyer State.”

Dipper nearly dropped the walkie-talkie. “Oh, that’s bad. I mean, that’s not where you should be.”

“I think we see the farm on our map. We’ll make our way to you.”

“You don’t need to do that. We can circle back, it’s no trouble.”

While Dipper gabbled over the line, trying to give alternate directions and guide the others somewhere else, Merrise rattled the handle of the cabin’s door. No luck there. As she turned back, her attention was diverted by a glimpse in her periphery. She leaned over the edge of the porch, frowning in concentration. There were half a dozen small indentations in the mud. Circular, but spaced out like footprints. Each one seemed to shimmer, containing puddles of mercury that gave out an aurora of light. Merrise leapt over the railing and followed the trail around to the rear of the cabin. Even without a flashlight of her own, she could make out a basement window thanks to the glowing circles.

“Be with you soon, alright? Keep your eyes peeled for ET.”

“Will do,” Dipper muttered. Neither he nor Tom gave a sign-off. With the distraction out of the way he turned back to the task at hand. It was only then that he realised that his daughter had wandered off. “Merrise?” he called out.

She was already slipping into the basement, her frame just slender enough to fit the narrow aperture. Underground there was a smell of mould and damp, and she guessed that groundwater was leaking in somewhere. She tried to explore the space, but it turned out that the rocky foundation wasn’t as conducive to leaving prints, so there was no light to see by. She pressed her hand to the wall to navigate, and came upon an iron stove with a pipe leading through the roof. There were some old shelves, bare of books or tools. The sounds of nature from outside - buzzing insects, trees bending in the wind - were deadened by the four walls. Merrise could have heard a pin drop. It was uncomfortably stuffy, so she wiped sweat from her brow. Turning back to the window, she was ready to get out. However, the ledge was too high to reach from this side. Pushing forward was the only option.

Finding a rickety staircase, she slowly ascended. She was tense, ready to jump at any sudden noises or movements. The problem was there weren’t any. It was as if the interior of the cabin were the bones of a dead animal. Still and rotting.

Upstairs, the room was still dark, but she could see flickers of her father’s flashlight peeking through the boarded up windows. She didn’t want to cry out, feeling that it would somehow be wrong to disturb the silence of this sacrosanct environment. Then she saw that she wasn’t alone in here. It was impossible how she could have missed it. Lying in the corner, huddled up on four legs, was a creature with golden skin. It glowed like the footprints outside, but somehow it made Merrise’s vision fuzzy. Her mind kept sliding off the creature, not wanting to acknowledge it was there.

She recognised this alien shape - it wasn’t the first time she’d encountered a Kochab. A mild thrill counteracted her fear, from the pride at this being her first time encountering a cryptid more than once. Knowing this creature was one thing, but she didn’t know what to do about that fact. From what she’d been told last time the thing was basically indestructible, made of something other than normal atoms and electrons. The front door was ahead of her. If she stayed quiet she might be able to get there and figure out how to unlock it.

Three heavy knocks slammed into the door. “Merrise, did you get in there somehow? Hello?”

All her muscles seized up as the creature stirred. She forced herself not to move an inch. The tadpole-like head began roving around. Merrise briefly saw Dipper’s face, squinting through one of the windows and shining his light recklessly inside. The Kochab didn’t like that one bit. It let out a series of high and low pitched chirrups, sounding like an unholy combination of whale and parakeet.

Merrise took a step on the creaky floorboards, but at that moment the muscle she’d twinged in her leg decided to give out. She stumbled onto her knees, but there was no time to waste. Through the pain, she picked herself and tried to run as the Kochab got to its feet and began charging after her. “Not again,” she cried. Shoulder first, she barged the cabin’s door. Thankfully it gave way, breaking and falling off its hinges. Merrise didn’t hesitate, continuing to run despite the sound of a monster slamming its feet on the wood in pursuit. She jumped off the porch onto grass and thought she was nearly in the clear.

The force of the Kochab cannoning into her back was immeasurable. Two tons of non-matter, running at 15 miles an hour, collided with the atoms that comprised her body, forcing the air from her lungs. There was an immense blast of force produced. She was blinded by pain, barely aware of hurtling through the air towards the forest and missing the hefty trunk of a pine tree by a hair’s width.

The Kochab immediately came to a halt, all momentum in its run dispersed. Standing agog on the porch, Dipper was both wary and deathly afraid for Merrise. The creature, uninterested in another human, trotted away, almost as if summoned by instinct. Once it was out of range and Dipper was sure it wasn’t about to charge again, he ran to Merrise. Her hat had slumped down, obscuring her face. “Oh god, are you alright?”

There was a sound like hissing. He leant closer to pick up her words. “A little bit more than a tickle.”

He gave a gasp of laughter. “This is why Pacifica doesn’t like me letting you come on these trips.”

“Ah, she’ll get over it.” Merrise groaned as she got to her feet. She was unsteady, and Dipper caught her as she fell again.

“Easy does it.”

She stretched and winced. “My whole body feels like it’s on fire.”

“Don’t strain yourself. Just take a minute. What was that thing that hit you? I didn’t get a good look at it.”

“It’s Kochy!” This perked Merrise up a bit, allowing her to forget the pain for a moment. “You remember I told you, a few months ago.”

“That Kochab you guys found beneath the museum, right. I know all about them. That takes me back. I wonder why it chose this cabin to rest.”

“She,” Merrise corrected, “not it.”

“Whatever, the distinction’s largely arbitrary. I’m not sure Kochab’s have distinct genders.” He patted Merrise on the back, eliciting a small gasp. She stared daggers at him and he put his hands up apologetically. “I know what it feels like. I took a stomach blow from a Kochab once. That’s what happens when matter and… something else, interacts directly. You get punted halfway to British Columbia.”

“It’s not funny,” Merrise muttered, rubbing her arms and twisting her neck to ease off the aches. “I’m surprised to see her again. When we saw Kochy last time, Aunt May instructed her to keep away from any major life forms.”

“To minimise the risk of decay, yeah. I remember you guys filling me in. But what’s she doing all the way up here? I would have expected her to remain within the valley’s radius. There’s an innate magnetism that keeps creatures like that from wandering too far.”

“Maybe if we follow her we’ll find out.” Merrise pointed to a new set of footprints leading away from the cabin.

“That’s my girl.” Dipper patted her shoulder, eliciting more discomforted sounds from her. Another annoyed glare followed, but her father was too intent on tracking Kochy’s movements. “Come on, we don’t want Tom and the others running into this.”

“We don’t want anyone else to get hurt.” Merrise rubbed her arm, then set off. Her gait was slower than before, so Dipper took the lead. He wanted to be the first one into danger if it came to it. At their pace it took them longer than expected to follow the trail, but luckily Kochy hadn’t gone far. In fact they didn’t even have to work very hard to track the footprints.

Ahead of them, in a divot among the trees, was a small clearing covered in brown leaves and the fallen remains of trees. Dipper and Merrise crept closer, leaning over the edge. Both of them gasped. It wasn’t just Kochy they were dealing with anymore. At the clearing’s centre was a dome almost three storeys high, with the consistency of fluorescent, shifting plasma. The dome’s surface wasn’t solid, a fluctuating morass of reds, greens, and magentas. Unlike staring at the Kochab, this occurrence didn’t cause a slippery feeling in their minds. There was only an odd discomfort in the pit of their stomachs, a simultaneous urge to dive into the orb and recoil in primal terror.

“It’s a weirdness bubble,” Dipper said in a hushed tone.

“And what exactly is one of those?” Merrise found the name less than helpful. “Is that another one of those things you named when you were 12?”

“Shh. Maybe. It doesn’t matter. Another imprecise definition anyway. A weirdness bubble is an extrusion of potential reality made para-physical. A broken off chunk of a withered timeline, a could-have-been. Highly dangerous. Could be a sign of damage to the fabric of space-time.”

“That would explain why she’s so captivated by it.” Merrise pointed.

The sickly tableau was completed by Kochy wandering back and forth in the clearing, pinned to it like a moth to a flame, yet standing well back from the shifting edges of the bubble. Dipper scratched his chin. “This must be what’s attracted her so far out of her range. She can’t help it. A slave with no master, drawn to the greatest source of the abnormal she can find.”

“Poor thing.”

“That’s the same thing that nearly put you in the emergency ward.”

“I know that,” she said sharply, before softening her voice. “She didn’t mean it, not really. She’s… lost, alone. And she doesn’t look happy.”

“Duelling impulses. Kochy the Kochab can’t decide whether to follow Mabel’s instructions to stay concealed or to seek out the bubble. Boom, conflict.” Dipper got out his journal and turned to the index at the back. There was a short overview for each of the various creatures and artefacts the Pines family had encountered over the years. The entry for Kochabs was back in Journal 4, but this description served as an adequate aid to Dipper’s memory. “Get out your water bottle.”

Merrise grinned at him. “I know it’s hot, but do we need to stay hydrated?”

“Kochabs aren’t good with liquids coating their form. Now let’s get down there and see what we can do.”

Dipper slid down the embankment into the clearing, Merrise dutifully following before he could warn her to keep her distance. The pair edged around, bottles in hand and trying to stay off of Kochy’s radar. The weirdness bubble towered over them, shifting and casting weird light around the forest as if they were in a submerged cave, the sunlight shimmering through water.

“What now?” Merrise hissed.

Dipper lifted up his detector and fiddled with the switches. “I can use this, it can send out a pulse to collapse the bubble’s waveform.”

“So long as you don’t mix it up with your walkie-talkie.”

Dipper shot her a wry look and ignored the statement. “Once that’s done it should cancel out this site’s inherent magnetism, so Kochy will drift back to wherever she normally holes up in Gravity Falls.”

Merrise, entranced by the shimmering light, took a step toward the bubble. “It doesn’t look all that dangerous.” She watched the ever-changing silent surface, then turned back to her father. “It’s kind of pretty. What’s the deal with it any-”

“Wait, Merrise! Don’t get too-”

“Ah!”

At that moment, the pearlescent surface of the bubble flexed, expanding enough to completely swallow Merrise in its circumference. She let out a scream that was cut off. Dipper didn’t even hesitate for one second, plunging in after her. Passing through the outer layer was trivial, but

once inside he felt his body split apart at the seams, ready to be remoulded. Through a background of rushing light, Dipper’s body became somehow more tangible. Flesh was added to the bone, every pore on the back of his hands stood out as more detailed, and he felt his facial features rearrange into a different proportion. Then the illusions

shifted. His sight was clouded, grainy, with scratchy lines appearing which he had to blink through to see. He tried to call out for Merrise, but nothing but silence emerged, followed by a black box that shuttered down over his vision. The words he’d tried to speak were written out in front of him before being snatched away. He turned his head and

reality shifted again. This time he caught a glimpse of Merrise off in the distance, standing agape and shaking like she was having a seizure. He pushed through the viscous innards of the bubble, which resisted his progress. Every step was like traversing through a gelatinous mire, while his perceptions continued to

alter. One second he was looking at his son, while his own gender switched around under him. The next he

saw Merrise as a human, while feeling himself grow an extra finger on each hand and develop pink, Tengosan skin. Then they were

both back to normal, but rendered in static outlines, suddenly leaping from one pose to the next. With a supreme effort, Dipper leapt, tackling Merrise and rolling to the edge of the bubble. With one last set of shifts, turning them from amphibian-like creatures into crystalline forms, then demonic apparitions and

returning to their true human and Tengosan forms, they burst free of the bubble and into the clearing. With his back on a pile of leaves, Dipper clung tightly to Merrise. She gasped as if awakening from a dream and coughed up her lungs. “Easy baby, easy. You’re ok.”

“I- the bombs, I have to-” Merrise struggled to break free, before her body went rigid. Any fight or flight reflex was paralysed. “I thought- I saw home. No, not home, not anymore. Tengosa. Back on the street, the explosions, they were right on top of me!”

Dipper wrapped her into a hug, hoping to swaddle her into submission. “Hey, calm down. I’m here. It was just an illusion. Horrible, I know, but this is reality.”

“What if it wasn’t?” She hyperventilated in his embrace. “A world where you never met me, where I stayed behind on Tengosa. That was the fate you stole me from, my life that never existed. Where I lived and died and now I’m just a ghost.”

This was getting too existential for an 11-year old, even one forced to mature as fast as Merrise had. He looked her directly in the eye and said, “Hey, this is where you are, on Earth. Alive. Trust me, I used to get anxious like this all the time when I was your age. The nightmares, they stay with you. There’s nothing to worry about.” He thought pinching her arm might ground her in the here and now. It was a habit both he and Mabel had picked up after their dealings with that particularly malevolent triangle.

Still shaking, Merrise stared up at him, eyes wide and trembling. Then a warbling roar echoed in their bones. They looked up into what passed for Kochy’s face, though it was little more than her rounded front-end. Blobs of mercurial liquid were visible beneath the translucent golden skein.

“Ok, maybe you should worry about that,” Dipper said with a gulp. One of Kochy’s razor sharp legs came down inches from his sprawled-out legs. He tried to shield Merrise, but she scrambled away to break free of his grip, her hands grasping whatever they could reach, including his ponytail. “Ow, ow. Watch the hair!” Merrise managed to get upright and ambled away. So much for being able to keep her safe. Dipper was now prostrate on the ground with nowhere to go. He tried wriggling backwards in the dirt away from the oncoming monster. Her back was arched and another forward step left a deep indent in the soil.

Then, with merely the quietest of pops, the weirdness bubble imploded. A few strands of coloured plasma drifted down along with a lingering haze, but other than that the clearing was empty and tranquil once more. Kochy reared her head and Dipper followed the creature’s gaze. Through the mist he saw Merrise at the other end of the clearing, his energy detector clasped in her hands.

“You did it,” he said, his head falling back onto a blanket of leaves. Kochy seemed to take this course of events as a boon, rearing up and releasing a soprano-like howl. It was the most pleasant sound he’d ever heard from a Kochab, almost like birdsong - if pitched down a dozen octaves. With that done she trotted up and out of the clearing.

Merrise rushed over to her father’s side and helped him into a sitting position. With a weak smile, she said, “We both got to rescue someone tonight. That’s the Pines’ way.”

Dipper chuckled and put an arm around her. “Yes, yes it is” His daughter beamed up at him with the proudest expression she’d ever shown.

The crack of a twig caused both of them to whip their heads up. Tired, they nevertheless stood ready to dodge another round with Kochy. Neither of them quite knew what to do when Ryan Dillinger bounded out of the mist. He stood there, mouth open and staring at Merrise.

“Necklace,” Dipper hissed.

Merrise threw the chain over her neck. Ryan blinked, confused but saying nothing.

“Finally found you.” By the time Tom had followed his son into the clearing, Merrise’s medallion was safely on. The elder Dillinger however was less circumspect. “What the… I thought I saw… Merrise, right where you were standing, it looked like there was some sort of alien being!”

Merrise cocked her head to one side. “Huh, how strange. I didn’t see anything. Dad, did you?”

“Me? Oh, nothing, no nothing out of the ordinary here. Just some cows and fog. Easy to convince yourself you’re seeing things that aren’t there. We thought we heard something larger out there, but it must have been an elk, or perhaps a bear. We probably shouldn’t stick around here just in case.”

“Yeah, we… we heard it too,” Ryan said, still keeping his eyes fixed on Merrise. She offered him a cheeky grimace.

Tom was still blundering around the clearing, probably about to consider the question of why ‘the alien’ had been wearing the same clothes as Merrise. That line of reasoning had already caused problems once. “Ubeliveable. All this mist came from nowhere. There must be-”

Merrise groaned in pain and doubled over. Dipper knew she wasn’t faking it - all the aches from their close encounter were catching up with her. He sidled up beside Tom and put his arm around his friend’s shoulders. “Hey, she’s been through a lot tonight. I think it’s time we all stopped chasing stories and went home.” Tom looked around the clearing one last time, disappointed. Equally he could tell that the girl wasn’t in the best condition. He nodded, and let Dipper take the lead.

“I still can’t believe it,” Tom said. “Nothing! Again! These aliens are slippery bastards.”

“Ah, we’ll find something next time, I’m sure. C’mon kids, time to go.”

“In a sec,” Merrise called. She watched the adults leave the clearing, eyeing Ryan warily. “You saw nothing. Right?”

He side-eyed her, but begrudgingly said. “Sure space-girl. Nothing at all.”

“Good, we’re in agreement.” Head held high despite the pain, Merrise started after the adults.

As she began cresting the hill, Ryan called to her. “So what planet are you from?”

Merrise didn’t deign to look back at him, but felt the sting of defeat nevertheless. “I’m never gonna live this one down.”

Merrise ran her fingers over the wall. Even under a generous application of yellow paint, she could still trace the mottled section where the flames had licked the plaster. A reminder of the last time her identity had been revealed. Thirsty all of a sudden, she headed downstairs. Only after she got to the kitchen and filled up a glass of water did she notice the noises from the study. Someone else was up at 3am too.

“Dad? I thought you said you were going to bed.”

“Oh, I was, but then I couldn’t stop thinking about my latest line of research.”

The sight of her father standing in front of a chalkboard covered in newspaper clippings and photographs linked together by coloured string wasn’t a surprise. Whenever something sparked his imagination he would work on various avenues of study, even those unrelated to the original topic. His train of thought careened onto spurs and dead-end tracks in search of enlightenment. It helped him burn up his excess reserves to better focus on the real problem.

Merrise was more surprised by his disheveled appearance. Her father’s hair fanned out behind him in a crazy halo; he looked like a mad scientist on the brink of discovery. He consulted Journal 13, muttering indistinctly to himself and then scribbling on the board. Merrise turned up the lights and stepped around trays of photography equipment. Written at the top of the board was ‘Orchard Lake’, and torn-out sections of maps surrounded the title. In one corner was a chalk sketch of a triangle, the lower half made up of bricks and the top consumed with a large, singular eye.

“What is all this? I thought this Bill guy was gone for good.”

“Oh, he is. Definitely, certainly, at least in this timeline.” Merrise looked at him doubtfully. “I’m just doing this research for fun. He crops up in history all the time if you know where to look. Pursuing this thread is just a personal curiosity, nothing to worry about.”

Parts of the board covered other lines of study too esoteric for even the Journal. Merrise cast her eye to notes on bits of paper pinned to the board.

Temporal instability: caused by tape measure or paradox proof? Grandpa Shermie age? Soos Birthday: too early in summer?

As Dipper chalked in another note, Merrise noticed that he was wearing a black brace on one wrist. In way of explanation he flexed his tendons. “I got a little carried away writing in my journal. Carpel-tunnel, you know. You couldn’t sleep either? More Tengosa?”

“No, actually,” Merrise said honestly. Though she’d dwelled on the vision during the trek and car-ride home, she didn’t want to dredge up what she’d seen. No, her nighttime restlessness was from another source. “It was more about the bubble itself. We didn’t find out what caused it to appear in the first place.”

“And so that led you on to wondering whether there might be more of them out there?” Merrise nodded, and was taken aback when Dipper flipped his conspiracy board over, revealing something more in line with what Merrise had been expecting. At the centre of a web of lines was a title written in red ink: Weirdness Bubble.

“I have got to come up with a more scientific name than that,” Dipper said, shaking his head.

Merrise boggled at the charts and graphs which her father must have created and printed off in the handful of hours since they got home. Sometimes his sheer obsessiveness and breadth of intelligence astounded her. All of the readings seemed to indicate the same thing: Nothing for a huge length of time, then a sudden spike in results.

“If I were to extend the x-axis back, say, 18 years, you'd see another spike. But my own personal energy scans only go back to when we moved here a year and a half ago.”

“That bubble we saw caused this?” Merrise didn’t know what the y-axis represented on these charts, but the figures were abnormally high compared to the background level.

“Not just that one bubble.” Dipper pointed to one small bar graph listed as ‘total readouts’, with dates beneath each of two columns; yesterday’s date and today. The bar for today was ever so slightly shorter than the previous one. “Take a look at what we accomplished tonight.”

“But why,” Merrise re-iterated. “These bubbles aren’t around for years and then suddenly - pop? It makes no sense.”

“I think - and keep in mind this is only a rough hypothesis fuelled by fevered research and several cups of coffee - something is putting stress on the fault lines in reality around town. In the past they’ve been overloaded, releasing radiation or other nasty heavy particles. Seems like this time these bubbles are the result. If they’re spilling out of the valley into the wider countryside… then that’s a very bad sign. That indicates an off-the-chart level of disturbance.”

“Aren’t there other places like Gravity Falls though? You’ve told me before that you discovered paranormal things in Piedmont, or in other countries.”

“That’s true, though few have the same properties and density of weirdness as this valley. My Grunkles used to roam the seas tracking down and investigating other special sites of weirdness magnetism. I had thought the levels had died down, that we were in a period of relative quiet on that front.”

“Guess not,” Merrise said glumly. Then a spark lit inside her and she looked again at the conspiracy wall. “So what’s changed now?”

“Good question. That’s the heart of the matter.” He drew a large question mark in the middle of the board. “I know where we can begin though. Here, look at this.” Dipper indicated a black-and-white topographical map of the region. Merrise found it hard to make out any familiar geography, unable to translate the complex contour lines, swamped as they were by checkered areas.

“I’ve narrowed down several sites within the town’s borders. One beneath the lake, one up in the hills that might be near McGucket Manor, possibly a few small ones underground. The Kochab might be able to lead us to them, but I don’t trust that thing. Even if we could track her down again we could be waiting weeks for it to home in on one. No, better to try and investigate ourselves. They could be false positives of course, other sources of supernatural activity that merely register similarly on my scanner. Not all of them are likely to be weirdness bubbles. I haven’t refined my search parameters enough to filter properly.”

Leah meekly nodded, her eyes tracking a passing group of kids dressed as the Power Rangers. Or maybe they were the Ninja Turtles - from the quality of the costumes Pacifica couldn’t quite tell. What surprised her most this evening was that Leah wasn’t scared by any of the frankly horrifying Summerween outfits on display. She passively took them in as if they were a normal, everyday occurrence. Perhaps this town was already working its way into her mind, normalising the absurd. Or maybe she was just too young to appreciate a good scare, that was always a possibility.

“Mason, slow down a moment. Our little lamb is getting heavier by the day.”

Dipper turned his head and adjusted his pace. “Are you having a good time, Leah?” She sucked on a thumb and didn’t say anything. He gave her a small smile. “Give it time, maybe next year you’ll enjoy the holiday more.” He flicked down his visor - a motorbike helmet borrowed from his sister and hastily spray painted as part of his look for the night. His astronaut costume was completed with a modified ski suit and boots. The effect was somewhat marred by his brown curls cascading out of the back of the helmet - the price to pay for his current longer hairstyle. “Everyone else having fun?”

Dipper received several affirmative calls from ahead. Their candy sacks were already satisfyingly heavy from the doors they’d knocked at. Wandering in the cool evening air, his family buzzing with excitement, it pleased him that after all these years that he could still find so much to enjoy about this weird tradition.

Hanging back, his sister-in-law sidled up to him. Zera had an unusually happy look on her face. And it was her actual face, not an illusion - scales, fins, anemone dreadlocks and all. She shoved her hands in the pockets of a black leather jacket. “This is great. I don’t usually get to walk around as my true self.”

“Speak for yourself Aunt Z.” Merrise clearly found her aunt’s conservative outlook boring, and she flashed a disapproving glare from beneath her folds of fabric. The pale blue dress flowed out from her hips like a dome, and the fake corset was tied with elaborate (non-functioning) laces. Merrise’s fairy princess outfit was completed by a sparkly star-topped wand and a silver tiara. Merrise didn’t usually go in for the whole ‘girly-girl’ look, but at her mother’s urging she’d decided to try it out for one night. Dressing like royalty certainly gave her the sense of being in command of everyone else. She also resolutely wore her gold medallion, carrying her perception filter. Unlike her aunt she didn’t want to create a clashing impression with her outfit, so wanted to stay in disguise. An ‘alien princess’ costume wouldn’t make any sense after all.

Hovering behind her was Dee, enjoying a rare trip out of his cage and giving up the family’s way as they went between the inviting Jack-o’-melons. Merrise tossed her pet a sample of loser candy, which the firebird gobbled down.

Behind them, Mabel threw her arms around her brother and wife. “Yeah, Z, you have to live a little.” Zera did a double-take at her wife’s appearance. She still hadn’t gotten used to the outfit. Her skin was a deep purple colour - luminous bodypaint that Mabel had painstakingly applied - covered by a matching swimsuit for decency. Even her hair had been subject to industrial quantities of purple dye, and was stacked up in a tangle of messy brains. In short, she was the perfect counterpart to Dipper’s spaceman: a visitor from the stars.

The effect of a confident alien visitor was broken when Mabel blinked furiously and rubbed at her eyes. “Stupid contacts.” Zera thought the annoyance was worth it though. When Mabel fluttered her eyelashes she revealed eyes of piercing blue, with black sclera. She certainly looked otherworldly enough.

In all the distraction Mabel’s candy bag swung into Dipper’s stomach, and he wriggled out of the embrace. “Well, you’ve lost none of your attention to detail at least. Although I’m pretty sure at the last house we visited they only gave you as much candy as they did because they were scared of you.”

“That means it’s working, woooh, spooky.” Mabel wiggled her fingers in Zera’s face, making her laugh.

Dipper shook his head and went into lockstep with Merrise, who was striding forward and leading the family. She seemed to be enjoying this the most of anyone. As they approached the town square they had to push through bigger crowds. Townsfolk were gathering for a Summerween festival in the square. Sheriff Durland was guiding folks around, resplendent in a colourful green-tinted 18th century jacket and waistcoat, which everyone guessed was reused from his Pioneer Day outfit a few weeks prior. There was melon-bobbing, a costume contest, and a burning effigy of the Summerween Trickster. The twins shuddered at the sight of it, leaving the others bemused. Leah continued to stare right into the flames even as they walked on, hypnotised by the flickering light.

“Come on,” Merrise said, urging her father onwards. “We haven’t trick or treated those houses over there yet.”

Mabel sighed and took in a breath of cool air. “Isn’t this the best, Merrise? The one night of the year when you can wander out at night seeking nothing more than the delights of sweet candy. Well, one of the two nights of the year I guess. Living here has made it twice the work to come up with unique costume ideas.”

“Be real, you’ve never struggled with it,” Pacifica wryly noted, and Mabel could only nod.

“Hey, it’s Jenny!” Merrise pointed to the edge of the fire-light, where her friend was waving them over. Jenny was dressed as a cardboard robot, with control panels painted on her chest. Her mother, Sue Sprott, was with her, and she greeted the Pines warmly.

“A pleasure to see you all out this evening.” Sue, who already normally dressed like she was out of the 19th century, had tonight chosen only a subtle variation, adding a modern smartwatch and a headband with a red eyepiece. “I’m a time traveller,” she said with an indulgent wink. Dipper and Pacifica both found the outfit humorous, though Mabel shook her head at the lack of effort - then screwed up her face as her contacts started stinging again. Sue gave a little wave to Leah. The girl blinked back, uncomprehending.

Dipper apologised. “Sorry, she’s very shy. She hasn’t developed the Pines family recklessness and bravery yet.”

Sue didn’t let it bother her, and smiled anyway. “I hope you’re all enjoying the celebrations. The history of the event is fascinating. It dates back to around 1923 in fact…”

While Sue regaled the adults with a potted history of Gravity Falls’ most famous date, the kids scurried away to talk more privately. “Nice costume,” Merrise said, “it must have taken ages to paint on those decals.”

“Oh yeah, Mom helped with cutting the cardboard boxes up first. You, uh, look really pretty in that dress.” Merrise blushed, then did a curtsy and a small spin. “In fact, I could say you’re out of this world!”

Merrise didn’t drop her smile, but found herself swallowing. She was still unsure about where exactly their relationship stood. Jenny was the only person outside the family who had figured out that Merrise wasn’t from around here. She hadn’t yet found the courage to tell anyone else that Jenny knew the secret, nor had she openly discussed it with Jenny either. It was hanging there, a topic neither of them wanted to dig into. It wasn’t like she was avoiding Jenny’s presence; their small class at school made that impossible. Instead she was fastidiously dancing around the subject of her species. Somehow they’d kept up the pretence for a few weeks now, all the way up to the start of the summer break.

Merrise coughed into a fist and handed Jenny a slip of paper. “For you,” she muttered. Jenny unfolded it. The note was nothing more than a string of numbers, seemingly at random.

9 23 1 14 20 20 15 7 15 20 15 20 8 5 14 5 24 20 12 5 22 5 12 23 9 20 8 25 15 21… - 13

They’d been doing this for some time now, exchanging little codes and ciphers, using Merrise’s parents’ journals for guidance. Jenny, ever resourceful, quickly got to work, translating the true meaning of the enciphered text in her head. It was a simple AZ126 cipher, nothing too fancy. Her mind was focused on the individual letters, so it was only once she’d plotted out the whole thing that she read it in full. Jenny’s composure instantly faltered and she made a girlish giggle. Merrise laughed too and took hold of Jenny’s hand. Their fit of laughing was only interrupted when Dipper wandered over.

“You two look like you're having fun.”

“Uhuh,” Merrise forced out, her voice breaking. “Super fun,” she said in a more levelled manner.

“Good,” he said, turning to Jenny, “because I think your mom has something to say to us. All of us.”

Merrise exchanged a brief look with Jenny, holding a finger to her lips. Her friend got the message and managed to look casual, even as she tightly clutched the note in her fist. Dipper, who saw all of this, merely continued smiling wryly at the pair.

Still loosely holding each other's hands, they returned to the group. Even though Merrise was still anxious about her identity leaking out, she was comforted by the thought that at least in this town there was an expected level of strangeness to the inhabitants. She might be an alien, but when other residents knew magic, or were friends with multi-headed animals and tree spirits, she was capable of fading into the background.

In the orange glare, Sue’s face had turned grave. She gestured for the Pines to walk away from the main street, so that prying ears wouldn’t catch the conversation. “A small word. I think I may be dealing with… a haunting.”

Everyone took a moment to process this. Dipper was the first to react, his face lighting up. “Well why didn’t you say so? We’re experts with hauntings. Exorcisms, artefact extractions, mutant pest removal, you name it.”

“Of course you’d find that an intriguing prospect.” Sue stared back at him, nonplussed. “I was more wondering whether I should ask you two…” Her eyes narrowed and swivelled to Zera and Mabel, that latter of whom threw her hands up.

“It’s not us this time! I swear there’s nothing to worry about down in the basement! It’s just snowglobes and fridge magnets. Nothing magical or dangerous.”

“Except our fireworks for the 4th of July,” Zera added unhelpfully.

Although Sue seemed unsure, she owed enough common courtesy as neighbours so as not to push the point. “Well then, I need help. I’ve been seeing odd things in the museum the last few nights, just before closing time when I’m all alone.”

“Mom’s not been sleeping well.” Jenny had a note of concern in her voice, something the adults in the group picked up on.

Pacifica put a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “I’m sure it’s nothing that can’t be dealt with, kid. Your mom’s made of tough stuff.”

Sue was scratching her elbow. “She is right though. It has been hard to sleep, worrying that something might be… inhabiting my workplace. At first I thought it could be someone breaking in, teenagers, you know, out for a quick laugh. But it’s not that. Whenever I think there’s something lurking, the next morning the displays on the second floor aren’t quite right.”

“What do you mean,” Zera asked, puzzled by this development. “Your artefacts get up and move at night? Seriously?”

“It’s like that movie,” Mabel said, adding no context for anyone who wasn’t human or over the age of twenty to figure out exactly which one she meant.

Dipper tried to steer the conversation back to normality, or what passed for it in this town. “It’s not too outlandish an idea that there might be a supernatural explanation. Summerween has always been an opportunity for the forest folk to wander into the civilised areas of the valley.”

“Is that a fact?” Sue said, with Dipper missing her lack of interest.

“Most tend to only cause minor mischief, but they’ve been abroad in greater numbers ever since the day’s guardian spirit was removed from existence 18 years ago.”

“Really?” Sue was doubtful. “Well I suppose that means this is your business. Pines business.”

“Well, not my business, not tonight,” Pacifica said, pre-emptively opting out of the venture. “Mason, you remember, your promise…?”

Dipper rubbed the back of his neck and sidled over to Pacifica. “Oh, right. Sorry guys, I said I’d stay with Leah all evening, just in case she gets frightened.” He took Leah from Pacifica and lightly bounced her in his arms. She did seem calmer in his presence, laughing in a soft, high-pitched tone.

Merrise scowled at him. “Oh come on, you’re wimping out? You?” Her father gave an apologetic grin, but Pacifica’s steely gaze kept him from budging.

“We don’t need Dipper,” Mabel said. “We can handle a little haunting totally fine without him.” Her confidence was infectious, and both Merrise and Jenny seemed eager to join in. Even Zera seemed keen on the idea. Maybe a bit of real magic might spice up this suburban ritual into something more exciting.

Sue, suddenly surrounded by a gaggle of people eager to help, looked back at the one person she’d actually thought was the professional that could sort out her problem. As Pacifica headed away and Dipper followed, he called back to the group. “Keep an eye on the Jack-O’-Melons, you don’t want to be late at the Mystery Shack. Soos promised some kind of light show, you shouldn’t miss it.”

Pacifica called from the edge of the square. “C’mon Mason, places to be.”

“What she means is that she’s really sorry you’re suffering a supernatural encounter and she’d love to help out but she’s just too busy.” Dipper looked at them each, grimacing unconvincingly, before darting after his wife with Leah in tow.

“Well, as the shepherds say, let’s get the flock out of here.” Sue stuck a thumb down the street. “You all know the way. No time to waste.”

Merrise hesitated before following the others. Wondering where Dee had got to, she saw him perched about the burning scarecrow in the centre of the festival. He seemed content, bathed in the flames. Lifting her skirts, and wondering how anyone was supposed to do anything practical in one of these outfits, she ran down the street.

Like the closed Pines Pawns opposite, the museum had been decorated for the night, with fake tombstones, skeletons, and a pair of flaming melons flanking the entrance colonnade. A bit of combined theming that Mabel had loved encouraging between their two establishments. Inside the lobby, cobwebs hung from every surface, but Sue hadn’t gone to the effort of decorating the rest of the museum’s interior. She didn’t want it to distract from the actual history, so she said.

As they marched behind her through the lobby, passing by pioneer wagons and glass cases full of artefacts, Mabel was stretching her arms and cracking her knuckles. “This should be a piece of cake. Old buildings often have resonances imbued into their structure, traces of what came before. This building’s been here a long time, soaking up memories. It may be as old as the town itself.”

“Actually it’s not,” Sue said. “The museum was built in the late 50’s. So it’s old, but not that old.”

“Oh. Well, the principle still stands.” Mabel flapped her hands about to move the subject on. “I’m sure I can sort out whatever this is lickety-split. That’s what good neighbours do!” Her cheerfulness was enough to force a cautious smile from Sue.

The group went upstairs to the second floor and into the realm of lengthening shadows. Even though some of the lights were on, giving out a sickly glow, the corners of the room refused to be lit. Standing in ranks wearing crude fur clothes were several people identified by a sign as prehistoric inhabitants of the valley. Zera shuddered at the figures, with their tangled beards and heavy brows, their spears raised as if on a hunt.

Merrise noticed her aunt’s apprehension. “What’s wrong Aunt Z?”

Not taking her eyes off the replica humans, she mumbled, “‘S nothing. Everything looks creepier in the dark.”

“Here’s where most of the incidents happened.” Sue gestured at the whole exhibit floor. “Sometimes it’s one of the cavemen knocked over, other times I heard movement from downstairs and rushed up only to find nobody here.”

Mabel stroked her chin. There wasn’t anything obviously wrong about the picture she was seeing. The caveman display on one side amidst plastic rocks. Some neolithic flint tools in a cabinet. Wooden or ivory charms in the shape of animals. A large stuffed mammoth on the other side. Nothing that looked out of place.

Sue could tell as well that there was nothing untoward occurring. “Now I’m worried that having so many people here might have spooked whatever it is away.”

"Out spook the spooks. Freak out the freaks.” Giving a dry laugh, Mabel strolled over to one of the cavemen and stared into its glass eyes. “We've already got three alien beings walking around, what can be weirder than that?"

"Don't you mean two?"

"Right, two, two aliens. Two, totally not real, fake aliens, yes siree." Mabel flashed a toothy grin at the bemused curator, then at the two girls, trying desperately to cover her faux pas.

"You have a point, Sue," said Zera, trying to steer the conversation back on track. “Maybe the creature or spirit or manifestation only shows up when there’s nobody around.” She sniffed the air, then crouched down and went prone on the floor to sniff that too. “Can’t pick up any magical traces right away. Could be something melded deeper into the building’s structure, or hidden more subtly. Or could be a cryptid instead, with no mystical properties.”

“Mystical, right…” Sue watched the woman in the alien costume lying on the floor with an expression close to disdain, before a look of encouragement from her daughter made her soften her glare. She had to trust the process, strange as it seemed.

“We could try hiding in the corner and waiting?” Merrise offered, though she didn’t sound enthusiastic about sitting around doing nothing in the vain hope something might happen. “Dad would probably be more proactive, like setting a trap. Although if you asked him what he thinks is haunting this place he’d probably say it’s some kind of luminiferous aetherimorph equivalent.” Jenny stared at her blankly. “He says stuff like that.

“That’s ok, Merrise, I don’t think your dad knows what it means either,” Mabel said in support.

Merrise mimed a journal in her hands. “Maybe a Category 2 ghost, with a dash of Category 5,” she said, imitating Dipper’s voice.

“It’ll probably turn out to be a squeaky pipe or some beaver or raccoon digging around where it shouldn’t.” Jenny pessimistically stared around the exhibit, as if doubtful she’d ever see something so cool as an aetherimorph in her life.

“Guys, don’t be such downers. You’re all giving up at the first hurdle!” Nothing seemed to dampen Mabel’s spirits. “We can solve this thing tonight, I’m sure of it. I’ll go scope out the area. If I set off some aura spells on the other floors they might reflect off anything supernormal. See, who needs Dipper?” On her way out the room she skidded to a stop by Zera, clutching her shoulders and grinning manically. “Though it’s a good thing I’ve still got you, babe, otherwise I’d have no-one to match my costume theming!” She kissed her wife on the lips, then zoomed away with a wave.

Zera stood there, slightly stunned and smiling. “I’ll never understand that woman as long as I live.”

“Well,” Sue said, looking down the stairs after the disappearing figure of Mabel, “if she’s off to try her spells, I suppose we’ll act as live bait. Mrs Pines, now that I’m seeing it up close, your outfit is amazing.” Zera took a moment to realise she was being spoken to. Usually ‘Mrs Pines’ was a name she heard used for Pacifica. “It’s so realistic, like an actual fish creature that could have crawled out of one of our town’s more polluted sinkholes.”

“Haha, yeah.” Zera tried to smile even as Sue studied her grey, reflective eyes.

“You must let me know who made it. If I had some exhibits with that level of quality…”

“Oh, it was a private commission.” She lowered her voice. “You know what people who dress up as animals for kicks are like.”

“Hmm, say no more.” Sue was surprisingly au fait with her statement, so much so that Zera was taken aback. The museum curator might have a more interesting past than she’d given her credit for. “Though I’m not quite sure what the jacket and plaid skirt are adding to the effect.”

“It clashes with the alien thing? That’s what Merrise said.” She shook her head and looked towards her niece, who was chatting to Jenny about some tv show or another. “Kids, what do they know? I like this look though. May calls it ‘punk rock’. Fits me.”

“I suppose it does. In any case it’s much better than another alien costume I could mention.” Sue coughed into her first and Zera suppressed a giggle, unable not to laugh a little at her wife’s expense. “You seem to care a lot for Merrise.”

Sue’s comment took Zera slightly off guard. It seemed that tonight she was taking the chance to get all the gossip on her new neighbours. “Oh, of course. She’s not our kid, but, you know. It takes a village and all that. I had six or seven parents.”

“Ah, you were raised in a foster home?”

“If you like.” She was underselling the omni-crèche that she and her thousands of siblings and cousins had been looked after in during her tadpole stage. “Merrise is adopted, and we both call this place home now, so we have that in common. Strangers in a strange land, together. I gotta look out for the kid.”

“That’s gladdening to hear. She has a good community. I tell you, it’s hard enough raising Jenny on my own, so it’s wonderful she’s found such a fast friend. Kids are always surprising you.”

Over the other side of the room, Merrise was gesturing for the two adults to come over. She and Jenny were standing in the shadow of the vast mammoth, the brown matted fur covering every scrap of replicated skin.

“You ever seen one of these before, Aunt Z? They’re so furry!” Zera couldn’t help but grin at the enthusiasm. “Are there any zoos nearby with live ones we can go see?”

Zera was clueless, so Sue stepped in. “Oh honey, I’m sorry. Mammoths are extinct, have been for about 10,000 years.” The girl was crestfallen, and Sue quickly added, “but you could go and see elephants, those are still around. They’re like these beasties, but without the fur.”

“All naked,” Jenny said, shivering and making her friend laugh.

“Maybe we could get you some zoo tickets,” Zera said. The rush for Summerween had left her and Mabel slightly better off for the month than they’d been expecting, so spending some cash on her niece felt like a good thing to use it for.

“Yeah, that’d be a great present for your birthday.” Everybody’s eyes shot upwards. Mabel was crouching on the back of the Ice Age titan. How she’d got there was a mystery. Mabel shrugged like it was the most expected thing in the world for her to be up there. With her stunning blue eyes gazing down at them, the effect was ever-so slightly unsettling, like a predator leering down ready to strike.

Resisting surprise, Merrise frowned and crossed her arms. “May, my birthday was two months ago!”

“Oops, doofy me.” Mabel slapped herself on the forehead. “Oh well, remind me to mark my calendar for next year.” Merrise was used to this kind of minor forgetfulness from her aunt. She was great at getting gifts, don’t get her wrong. She had a crystal-clear recollection of any time someone expressed the slightest positive emotion towards something, like the time Merrise had off-handedly said how she thought the freemason logo was cool when she’d been looking it up after their trip to Salem, and Mabel had knitted her a sweater with the exact design emblazoned on it. Dates and times however escaped her grasp. “Anyway, If you wanna see a real extinct creature then I know where you can find dinos. The amber caverns are lovely this time of year.”

“No thanks. One run in with a T-Rex was enough.”

“If you say so.” Mabel looked like she was caressing the back of the mammoth. Sue was about to protest, to point at the clearly labelled ‘do not touch’ sign, when a pulse of golden energy flowed out from Mabel’s outstretched palm. She held in position for a second, her ear up against the mammoth’s hide before calling out, “Nothing yet! She followed this up by doing a forward roll in mid-air down to the museum floor. “Ta da!” The kids both applauded her, loudly at first until they heard their own echo, then quietly.

“And for my next trick! Manaporteau!” Mabel leapt backwards into a flip but vanished in a cyclone of orange sparkles before her hands or feet touched the ground.

Sue watched with mouth wide open as the glowing particles faded away. “That was incredible. You can do this too?” she addressed to Zera, who was the only one who remained unimpressed.

“She’s just showing off. I can do it three times the distance, and I don’t have to use the verbal mantra when I cast it anymore.”

Sue waved her hand through the last dissipating particles. “That’s great, so long as this doesn’t set off the fire sprinklers.”

With Mabel’s display over, Merrise thought that would be it, and they’d have to endure more waiting. But at the corner of her vision, something pricked at her. Like a shadow falling across one of the displays. While the adults and Jenny remained chatting about the finer points of teleportal magic, she silently crept away towards the disturbance. A sign with a map of the West Coast showing the extent of tribal lands seemed untouched. Yet- there it was again, right at the edge of her perception. Movement. Towards the standing cavemen.

Something brushed against her shoulder. “What have you found?”

Adrenaline spiked through her system as she whipped around. It was only her aunt, nudging her with a hand. “Z, you terrified me.”

“Just keeping an eye on you, kid.”

She detected a real concern in her aunt’s voice. Perhaps she had glimpsed something too. Her eyes scanned the exhibit once again. A fake campfire sent out flickery light that kept the faces of the mannequins indistinct, while making cave paintings on the rocks - of stick figures, deer, buffalo, and bears - leap up as if animated. “Nothing. Like May said. The darkness playing tricks.”

Another hand landed on her shoulder. This wasn’t the same hand as before. It was colder, thicker, and beginning to clench down. With a slowly unveiling horror, Merrise turned to face a bearded man, staring down at her with an emotionless visage.

She stopped in the lobby again. Crouching by pamphlets advertising local businesses, including her own, Mabel concentrated on reaching out with her mind. She conjured the pulse from her hand and felt it rebound seconds later. An easy spell, and satisfying to pull off. She let the energy ripple through her body. She shuddered as if hit by a sudden winter’s breeze. Unlike before, she could feel a distinct difference in this pulse. A tiny vibration in the cosmic harmony that radiated the universe.

Then she had to pinch her eyes again. The less glamorous aspects of her costume were beginning to manifest. The contacts still irritated the hell out of her. They weren’t even her correct prescription, so she was seeing the world through a haze of fuzz. Her sandals were proving a poor choice of footwear for a night of traipsing about and acrobatics. Worse even than that, the crotch of her swimsuit was starting to rub uncomfortably. Fighting the urge to scratch was proving to be a herculean task. Not for the first time in her life her ambitions had outweighed common sense. Mabel groaned to herself. God, she was becoming middle-aged and she wasn’t even 35 yet.

She sighed and stared at one of her arms. Some of the paint near her elbow was beginning to flake away, revealing one of her tattoos. Luckily it was of a spider’s web, so it fit the night’s theme. Still, she might have to skip back to the cottage and apply a fresh layer of paint before Soos’ party. A second was all it took for a passing thought of dressing up Apep in some outer space antennas and bringing her out to flare up and fade. She’d remembered that the snake had a lifetime ban from the Mystery Shack. Maybe in October, at a different venue, Apep could be the star of the show.

Standing around, she was lost in her thoughts. Until a scream echoed out through the museum. “The kids.” That wasn’t Merrise’s scream, it must be Jenny. She broke into a sprint, wishing that she hadn’t wasted her spellcasting energy on teleporting down a single flight of stairs. She couldn’t muster the necessary spark to transport herself again. Her heels strained as her flip-flops slapped against the marble floor. She pounded up the steps and into the caveman exhibit. She was taken aback to find the room completely empty. Not just her family and friends, but the caveman mannequins and even the mammoth were gone.

She heard a sonorous trumpet coming from somewhere out of sight. That could only mean one thing. Sue was right. This place was haunted. The exhibits had come to life. Mabel failed to resist grinning wildly. Once again something that seemed like an idle fantasy was coming true before her eyes. No wonder her brother sought this sort of thing out as often as he could. Then she remembered her mission. This could spell trouble, the others could be in real danger.

Then she heard another trumpeting noise, and realised where it was coming from. Her head craned upwards. Standing upside down on the roof as if it was the most normal thing in the world was a hulking mass of muscle and fur. The mammoth’s eyes were glowing a deep crimson as it looked down at her dispassionately.

“Hello Jumbo,” she murmured. Before she had a chance to so much as take another step, she felt the floor slipping out from under herself. Her legs were lifted into the air and she lost a sandal as she went. Her stomach churned as she flipped upside down. All she could do was watch her shoe drift away as she shifted her centre of gravity. She fell to her knees on top of (or beneath?) the museum’s skylight. It was amazing that the creature in front of her hadn’t already cracked through the glass with its weight. She sized up her opponent, wondering how she could get around the mammoth’s sturdy tree-trunk legs.

Suddenly her arms were gripped from behind, and she smelt the warm musk of fur and plastic. She wriggled as much as possible but couldn’t break loose of the embrace. So much for her heroic rescue. “Oh phooey. Watch your hands, buddy, you’re rubbing the bodypaint off.”

“May?” It was Zera, being frogmarched forwards with the others. Her hope of escape seemed to dwindle as she saw her wife was equally trapped. “Oh May.”

“Sorry Z. They got the better of me.” The cavemen stood in impassive ranks, facing the mammoth with their captives held in place.

Sue’s eyepiece had a crack running down it, but to her credit she was trying to stay composed in the face of danger, muttering a prayer under her lips to keep herself from panicking. She was agog at the mammoth more than the cavemen. “It shouldn’t be alive. It’s not got any organs, just sawdust and a metal skeleton.”

“It’s probably not alive in the conventional sense, more like it’s being conjured into being through some power.”

“Mammoth necromancy?”

Mabel smiled. “Sure. Let’s go with that for now. The rest of you doing ok?”

Merrise was used to this kind of peril. She was glancing around, taking in any information about the situation that might help them. Jenny however was not coping so well. Her eyes were bulging out from behind her glasses. “Oh my god, they’re alive, and we’re in the air but we’re not falling. How are we not falling? What are they gonna do to us, Merry? Ohmygod I think I’m gonna barf. Somebody please help!”

The kid was rattling off words as fast as she could breathe. Sue tried to calm her daughter down, muttering that she was there for her, that it was going to be alright, but her words sounded hollow. She had no greater experience than Jenny in these matters. The caveman holding Jenny began to tighten its grip in response to her mad struggles to escape. In her flailing about she knocked into Merrise, whose plastic tiara slipped off her head. The ornament floated in the air for a second as if deciding what to do, then fell upwards, to the museum’s floor. It shattered into pieces when it hit the bottom.

Mabel needed to think of something to get Jenny’s attention, and fast, or else their captors might take it out on the kid and they’d all be at risk of falling off of this gravity pocket. She cleared her throat. “Hey, it’s Jenny right?” The girl looked at her, lip trembling. “It’s all gonna be ok. I’ve been in way worse scrapes than this.”

Merrise was able to get her hand loose, and clutched Jenny’s, which started to ease the girl’s anxiety. Only a little though. “But these things are crazy. When could you have ever seen anything like this!?”

“This may blow your mind, but it’s not that crazy sounding. Dipper and I once had a dust up with some living homunculi, ages back. Wax figures that had come to life through the power of moonlight. Or something like that. It was a long time ago.”

“You’ve forgotten?” Merrise asked, astounded.

“There’s a reason Dipper keeps his journals, so I don’t have to remember every last stinking detail.” She craned her neck to look up at the skylight beneath them. There were clouds covering any stars. She shook her head to fight off a dizzy spell brought out by vertigo. “I’m pretty sure it’s the wrong phase of the moon anyways, it was like half-full last time I remember noticing it. The wax people were weak to fire if that helps?”

“These don’t feel like wax,” Zera said, struggling. “More like plastic. Not so easily meltable.” She was breathing more and more heavily. “Of course this night of all nights these stupid things set off a phobia. I didn’t even know I was this afraid of mannequins.”

In a move that baffled everyone else, Mabel couldn’t help but be elated on hearing this. “Aw, we have the same fear, kind of.”

“May, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Mine is that old-timey claymation animation, now yours is mannequins coming to life. It’s all about the non-living, inanimate, gaining the spark of life. Static yet covertly alive, a parody of human form.”

“Ok. I upgrade the statement. What the fuck are you talking about?” Let the kids hear a few swears once in a while, Zera didn’t care. She looked at the expressionless caveman pinning her arms in place. There was no intelligence behind those eyes, no will of their own. Only the mammoth seemed to be glaring with intent, or a blood red fury. The glow seemed to cast the whole roof in monotone, washing out the blues of her skin or Merrise’s dress. Only Mabel’s purple stood out against the glare.

After a few moments of silence, Jenny quietly said, “what happens now?” There was no movement from either the cavemen or the mammoth. They could have heard a pin drop, though which way it would have fallen might have been in doubt.

“Yeah, it’s awfully quiet,” Mabel intoned. “We’ll probably have to wait for the mastermind.”

“Mastermind?” Sue asked.

“Yeah, you know. Whoever’s conjuring all this. No way this is just a simple cursed object, there’s intelligence here. Whether it’s a ghost or a sorcerer I can’t say.”

“Maybe it’s the mammoth, I don’t like the look of him. those eyes.” Merrise stared at the extinct creature, as if willing herself to meet its fiery gaze without flinching. Her courage spread to Jenny, who bravely joined her friend’s vigil.

Meanwhile, Mabel was continuing to mutter to herself, recalling details about her past encounters. “They were alive only when the moon was waxing.” To cut off any other expressions of incredulity she carried on. “It was a curse. Maybe this is similar, symbolic magic. The representation of a concept can enact real change in the world. That’s how the Zodiac worked after all.”

“I can’t comprehend half the things you say,” Sue said resignedly. She seemed worn out, but with enough trust left in the Pines to try and resolve the situation. “Go on then. Are you telling me that if we can destroy a symbol of these figures then they’ll stop moving around and all that jazz?”

“Probably. My friend Sam was great at symbolic rituals, she could manifest stuff over a whole town. But if the source is destroyed, the ritual stops.”

“Good enough for me,” Merrise said, more defiant than ever. Seeing Jenny in such a state of fear had driven her to figure this out for her sake. “What are we looking for?”

“Dunno. Could be anything. Usually it’s small, innocuous. The kind of thing that could easily get lost on a museum shelf, gathering dust for years.”

“I’ll have you know I dust this place regularly.” Sue was only half-serious, but the fact she was joking meant that Zera took it as a good sign.

“See, nothing to worry about,” she said, “just five cavemen, a giant undead furball, and the normal laws of physics breaking down.”

Mabel sighed and went limp. “Ugh, my brain feels like it’s slowing down. Think, what do we have to work with? If I had my grappling hook then maybe we could get back down to the ground, except I left it at home. Or maybe we could think up a counter-spell, though it’s always harder to do that when you’re being constrained. I met a real Neanderthal once, but he was a jerk so that doesn’t help.”

“It could be worse.” Zera shifted against her bonds. She flashed a quick smile at her wife. “We’ve been in rave clubs tighter than this.”

Mabel wriggled in her captor’s grasp. “Tell me about it. The guy behind me is getting really hard.”

“Ew, you crossed a line, May.” Zera gave her wife a dirty look.

“What do you mean?” Merrise asked blankly, and Zera merely shook her head.

“No, I’m serious.” Mabel shifted against her captor, in a display that looked uncomfortably like she was grinding her hips against the caveman. “The whole mannequin is like… there’s no give. It’s rigid. I might be the only one, but have you guys ever knocked into a dummy while clothes shopping? They’re hollow, super light and easy to topple over. So why are these ones so unmovable?”

Sue pondered this idea. “Something toughing up the polymers, like vulcanisation?”

Jenny piped up. “Ooh, that’s when you mix rubber with, say, sulfur, to make it harder. Stops tires melting so much or getting stuck.” Merrise looked at her friend, impressed with her display of knowledge.

“Every scrap of knowledge helps,” Zera said, shrugging.

“There must be some way we can use that. Maybe if we- argh, damnit.” Mabel blinked once more. Tears started springing forth and she was unable to reach up and rub her eyes. “I’m never wearing contacts with a costume again, this sucks.”

“Wait, May, stop.” Zera leant forwards, trying to get a good look at Mabel’s face.

“Stop what, blinking? Kinda hard, especially when it stings so much.”

Despite her protestations, Zera got a glimpse of the darkened sclera and pale irises. And of a red pattern floating beneath the surface. “It’s you!”

“You what? Me? What are you talking about.” She turned her head to try and look behind herself.

“No, stay still. In your eyes, May. I didn’t see it before, it was hidden. They’re glowing red!”

Astounded, Mabel closed and opened her eyes over and over again, trying to force out whatever presence was lurking there. The red light didn’t dissipate no matter how hard she tried.

“It’s like the mammoth,” Merrise said excitedly. “You’re connected to it!”

“You can’t be serious. How the heck would that work? I’m not doing this.” She had a guilty expression, like someone had caught her sneaking a cookie from the kitchen when she hadn’t realised it was the last one.

Zera snapped her finger. “That’s why your aura spells didn’t pick up on anything. You’re ground zero for all the magic! Nothing to bounce off of.”

“Aunt Z, you can do that spell too, right?” Merrise was nearly bouncing up and down in the caveman’s grip. “See what happens.”

While Zera closed her eyes and began whispering the incantation, Mabel squirmed, suddenly the centre of attention. “I’m sure it’s nothing, it can’t be me doing this. I would never- woah, that tickles.” A burst of light had spread from Zera’s palms and quickly passed over each of them, before hitting Mabel. She gasped as her entire body began shimmering with patterns of crimson, the exact same shade as the mammoth’s eyes.

Zera’s spell bounced back to her, and she opened her eyes. On seeing her wife’s newfound luminosity, she said. “Told ya.”

“Incredible,” Sue mouthed. She turned to Mabel. “If you brought them to life can’t you turn these guys off?”

“I don’t know how I did it in the first place! I didn’t do this on purpose. It’s gotta be subconscious.”

“I believe you, ok. But if that’s the case, the real question is why. Why are you controlling these figures in the first place? What possible desire could you have that’s being expressed in these mannequins? It’s not exactly been a pleasant experience.”

Mabel gasped. “Of course. You’re right!”

“I am?”

“It’s a deliberately terrifying encounter! Because it’s Summerween! The holiday of fear and terror in a controlled manner. Everyone loves getting scared by horror movies when they know nothing can really hurt them. This is the same thing. I’ve brought to life our very own nightmare adventure.”

“Out of a subconscious desire to be, what, scared shitless?” Zera’s words sounded incredulous, but she was putting the pieces together in her mind. “That’s gotta be it. That’s why nothing’s happened since we got captured. You built up the scare, but there’s no way to heighten the fear, not without any of us getting hurt and that’s the last thing you’d want. The spell is stuck on a loop. But you can’t have done it all on your own. Not all this, with the cavemen and the floating. I know your abilities, May. You’re gifted, but this is beyond you.” Mabel stuck her lip out, as if offended by the idea that she wasn’t already a master witch, capable of anything she pleased. “There has to be something else influencing these events. Some kind of focus.”

Peering through the red haze, Merrise followed strands of energy, visible thanks to Zera’s aura spell. The glowing wisps passed from Mabel’s eyes, across the hall and into the mammoth’s. But halfway across the roof, a separate strand went downwards to the museum hall, straight to one of the exhibit cabinets. “Down there.”

“Perfect,” Zera said. “Sue, Jenny, what was it you said about the plastic hardening? Vulcanisation?”

Sue thought hard. “Um, I don’t know all that much. I read it in a textbook once while trying to help restore some old tires in the museum collection. Let me think, I know that the strength of the final material can vary wildly depending on the number of atoms in the bonds between the rubber and the bonding agent.”

Impatient, Jenny said, “The shorter the bonds the better the heat resistance, but the worse dynamic movement. The rubber needs to have good flexibility or it’ll shatter.” Zera looked at her blankly. “I read the same book as mom. I have a good memory.”

“My opposite then,” Mabel said, snorting.

“Ok, cut to the chase then, kid,” Zera said to Jenny.

“The plastic’s hardened to trap us. That means it’s rigid but fragile at connection points.”

“Great.” Zera suddenly jabbed backwards with her elbow, aiming for her caveman captor’s armpit. The joint connecting the shoulder to the arm shattered, sending shards of brittle plastic flying out, some pieces falling up, some down. “Thanks kid.” Jenny had her mouth wide open in awe.

Freed from the embrace, Zera leapt as high as she could manage. She felt herself twist in the air as gravity’s centre flipped once more. Her boots skidded on the marble when she hit the surface, and a shock ran up through her legs from the impact. But she managed to stay upright. She whipped her head up as she heard the others start yelping and screaming. The cavemen didn’t seem so placid anymore, tightening their hold to painful levels. Mabel must have subconsciously realised that this was the big finale. Of course that meant upping the tension.

Zera took a deep breath. She’d only get one shot at this heroic climax. She wasn’t a born adventurer or parkour expert like Mabel but she’d had her fair share of run-ins with the law. Hold, identify target, plan the route, and… go!

The mammoth bellowed a mighty trumpet and shot out its trunk to snare her. She dodged and weaved towards the cabinet, just avoiding being tangled in its grip. She ran straight into the cabinet, knocking it over and smashing the glass. There was no time for subtlety, even as Sue winced to see another part of her exhibit destroyed. Amidst the wreckage Zera picked at the artefacts. A bone knife, a sabretooth from a big cat, wooden spears near rotted. Then her eyes alighted on it. Made of ivory, carved into the shape of a mammoth. Zera reached at and clutched the piece of prehistoric jewelry in her grasp just as the mammoth’s trunk snaked around her ankle and tripped her over.

Dragged across the floor, she had seconds to spare. It turned out that was all she needed. With almost trivial ease she snapped the carving in two. There was no further fanfare. The red glow from the creature’s eyes faded instantly and the cavemen went limp.

“You did it!” Mabel called, though Zera had to twist her neck awkwardly to look at her high above. She and the others descended gracefully to the museum floor, free at last. Mabel ran up to Zera and bundled her into her arms. “Love you, love you, love you!”

“Ha, love you too May.” She put a tired arm around her wife.

“It’s over,” Sue said, still not quite believing what had just happened. She jumped in shock as four (and a half) plastic cavemen clattered to the floor behind them. Whatever Mabel’s ritual had done to strengthen them had disappeared, so they bounced around, hollow and weightless once again. What wasn’t weightless was the mammoth carcass, which turned 180 degrees in the air. It barely missed Zera, landing with thud and sending out a cloud of sawdust. Mabel and Zera coughed and got to their feet.

Merrise ran over to the lifeless creature and stuck out her tongue. Jenny, buoyed by her friend’s courage, joined in and taunted their defeated adversary. A cloud of noxious red smoke drifted out of the trunk and mingled in the air.

Mabel smiled to herself, and said, “Another job well done-”

An alarm blared into life, and they were all caught off guard when they were blasted by freezing water from the sprinklers a second later. The two kids squealed and ran from the room, desperately trying to protect their costumes from the spray. Sue stood there, laughing and letting the water wash over her as just one more crazy incident of the evening.

“Aw crud.” Mabel watched patches of purple paint slide down her arms and legs.

Through dripping water, Zera opened her palms wide and smiled at her. Whispering so that nobody else could hear. “Now we’re both our true selves.” Awestruck, Mabel hugged her tightly and said a sad goodbye to her costume.

“Th-thanks Aunt Z.” Merrise’s teeth chattered. Zera wrapped her niece in her leather jacket, though the girl was still shivering in her frilly dress. Mercifully, everyone’s attention was elsewhere, as a close inspection of Zera’s band t-shirt would have revealed it was from a concert that had taken place on another planet. Maybe next year she should be a bit more subtle with her ‘hang loose’ Summerween ethos.

The sprinklers had been confined to the one room, so there was luckily no standing water down in the lobby where they’d gathered. Beside Merrise, Jenny was now just wearing her normal clothes. Her cardboard had gotten soggy and had thus been discarded. She was browsing her phone while waiting for Merrise to warm up.

“So what actually happened back there?” Sue asked, hands on hips. Drips of water still fell from the edges of her sleeves and skirts, and she’d discarded her ‘time traveller’ accoutrements. So much for the holiday spirit.

Sheepishly, Mabel tried to craft an answer. “I think - and this is just a theory - my subconscious desires to create the perfect Summerween narrative were filtered through my innate magical abilities and the prismatic focus of that ancient ritual artefact, the mammoth totem.” She scrubbed at her arm with a hand towel, trying to clear way more of the running body paint. “It brought the exhibit to life, but when it was destroyed the whole thing stopped.”

“That’s gonna take ages to recount for my journal,” Merrise said shakily, though she managed a smile.

“Hopefully it was a one-off. I’ve never used magic by accident before. To be on the safe side we’d better scope the place out tomorrow, sweep the basement and the store, make sure nothing else has come to life.”

Sue wasn’t totally convinced yet. “What about all the things I thought I saw before tonight? The moved objects, funny noises? The only reason you’re here tonight is because I told you about those things.”

Mabel shrugged. “Maybe they were foreshocks, from my anticipation of Summerween. To provide a proper ghost busting experience. It needed set-up. Sorry.”

“That, or we really do have a raccoon breaking in every night, mom.” Jenny cheekily grinned without looking up from her phone.

Sue shook her head, too defeated to argue. “Maybe you’re right Jen, maybe you’re right. I think next time I’ll hire a proper investigator. Amateurs clearly can’t get the job done.” She gave a short laugh.

“I really am sorry though.” Mabel, who hadn’t picked up on the joke, fixed Sue in the eye. “I’m the reason your exhibit got wrecked. If you want to restrict our basement access or never speak to me again I totally understand.”

“Hmm, you trashed a whole floor of my museum, destroyed five mannequins, damaged a prize mammoth display, and gave my daughter the fright of her life. But… at least you put things right again. In a roundabout way. I suppose that’s what comes from sharing my basement with a pair of witches.”

Mabel started grinning. “So does that mean-”

“Yes, you can keep using the cellars for storage. As long as this never happens again.”

“I super pinky-promise!”

“Oh, by the way,” Zera said, handing over the two halves of the broken mammoth carving, “this is yours.”

Sue examined the pieces, trying to match them back together, before giving up. “10,000 years and it comes down to this. Though I suppose that’s just another part of this object’s history. I’ll put it with the other wreckage.” She placed the two halves on the main lobby desk. Lying beside it were the shattered remains of the cavemen, plastic chunks still wrapped in sodden fur. Sue strolled back towards the main stairs. “I suppose I’d better get a mop out. That’s another thing I have to deal with, a water-damaged exhibit space. I don’t suppose either of you know a spell that can clean all those puddles away? No? Nevermind then.”

“Actually we do,” Zera said as she went out of earshot, “but I think we’ve done enough for one night.” Sue had an odd dignity as she vanished from sight. She was a tough one, that was for sure. Nothing was going to stop her. No doubt she’d have this place ship-shape by tomorrow afternoon. Zera looked at the ruined pile of what looked like cadavers, trying to assuage her own guilt in the matter, and noticed a scrap of paper held in one of the cavemen’s hands. The Sprott girl must have dropped it when they were struggling; the furs matched the one that had been pinning her arms. The paper only had random numbers written on it.

“What’s that you got there?” Mabel asked, taking the note out of her hands before Zera had a chance to say anything. “Ooh, a code. Ah, it’s just a number substitution, easy.” She produced a pen from somewhere (nobody wanted to figure out where it had been stashed) and scribbled out the translation beneath the cipher.

A strangely excited expression appeared on Mabel’s face. “Aw, that’s sweet of you. But we don’t have to mess around with notes.” She passed the piece of paper back, then lowered her brows to look at Zera with what she could only describe as ‘bedroom eyes’. “How’s about after the party at Soos’ we find some shots and then head back to our place?”

Mabel planted a kiss on her lips, then skipped off out of the museum, still in her patchy alien guise, her braided hair coming loose and streaming behind her. Baffled, Zera read what she’d translated. I want to go to the next level with you… - M. She blinked, then said aloud, “You know, usually the recipient’s name goes at the start, not the end. How about that, M?” She glanced at Merrise out of the side of her eye.

Both girls had been anxiously watching her every move. Zera’s expression didn’t betray a single emotion. Merrise broke the silence. “Huh, funny that, my name and May’s start with the same letter. What a coincidence.”

“Yeah, real funny,” Zera said in a deadpan voice.

“Don’t tell my mom,” Jenny pleaded, and both kids were suddenly facing her down with wide, imploring eyes.

“How can I say no to that?” she commented with a heavy dose of sarcasm.

“Are you an alien too?” Jenny blurted out. “A real one, I mean.” Merrise tried to admonish her friend, more embarrassed than fearful, but Zera held up a palm.

“I don’t know exactly how much you know. But it stays between you two, ok? I don’t want you complicating things. It affects my life too, remember.” She gave as severe a stare as she could manage towards her niece, whose eyes were suddenly fascinated by the floor. Zera ran a hand down her face, making her fins flap up afterwards. “I’m too tired to deal with this. Work it out yourselves. And… good luck.”