This was awesome.

But it would be more awesome if Ford would pick up the pace.

Dipper and Ford trekked through the winter forest, pulling the mostly empty sledge behind them. It didn't take too much effort right now, especially with two people. Their harnesses were connected to a cord that fastened underneath the sledge to help them pull it along. Dipper could barely feel the weight! He could go way faster than this!

"Dipper," Ford said in exasperation, "this is not a race."

"It kind of is," Dipper said. "We're racing to get the fuel before the Order finds us. C'mon, Grunkle Ford, let's go faster!"

"We need to pace ourselves, Dipper, or we'll be exhausted by the time we make it to the minotaurs. Or get so tired that we won't even make it at all. Slow down."

"We'll be fine! This thing doesn't even weigh very much."

Ford sighed. "It doesn't feel like it does now, but it will later. We need to conserve our energy."

In Dipper's experience, conserving energy only led to being super hyper later. But okay, fine. When he was bouncing off the walls later, he'd remind Ford that he asked for it.

They continued at their maddeningly slow pace. At least it wasn't entirely boring out here — there were fairies flitting around, small creatures like gnomes and jackalopes scampering through the snow, and some larger creatures roaming through the trees in the distance. At one point, Dipper saw a far-off creature that looked like a troll with mushrooms growing out of its shoulders. Ford saw it, too, and stopped momentarily.

"That's a gremloblin," he said quietly. "Let's wait here for a moment and see where it goes."

Now that he mentioned it, the creature did match the descriptions Ford had given in his stories yesterday. Dipper had to fight to keep still in the wake of the renewed energy that raced through him. This was so cool.

The gremloblin didn't notice them, and it seemed content to continue on its merry way. Dipper and Ford resumed pulling the sledge, and Dipper checked over his shoulder every couple seconds to get a glimpse of the gremloblin.

"You said they show you your worst nightmare if you look into their eyes, right?" he asked Ford.

Ford nodded.

"Woah. That's crazy. Did you ever look into a gremloblin's eyes? What did you see?"

Ford coughed. "That's not something you would generally ask someone, Dipper."

"Not a stranger, yeah, but we're family! Family shares things like our deepest darkest fears."

"Well, I don't," Ford replied shortly.

Wow, this guy was pretty good at killing conversations. It did not escape Dipper's notice that Ford did not actually answer either of his questions. He sighed and kept walking, his eyes roaming the forest for something else to watch.

There weren't supernatural creatures everywhere, though — they'd go fifteen or twenty minutes with no sight of anything moving. But they still saw enough creatures for Dipper to keep his camera at the ready. He got some decent pictures, too.

"Dipper, perhaps you should keep your stun gun on hand instead of that camera? We might get ambushed at any moment."

"I don't see anybody," Dipper said. "Not one bit of purple."

Ford sighed. "Just. . . stay alert, all right? The longer we go without seeing an Order member, the more chance there is of running into one. Or two, since they seem to like going around in pairs." He paused. "It is strange that no one has attacked us yet."

"Or lucky," Dipper said.

Ford didn't respond, but from the look he shot Dipper, the younger Pines could tell he was judging him.

"I'm surprised so many species are still active in the winter," Ford commented after a few minutes of silence.

"Yeah, the minotaurs are probably awake too!" Dipper said. "That's pretty awesome. Some would even say it's lucky."

"The natural habits of supernatural species have nothing to do with luck," Ford said. "It's simply a phenomenon of which we may be able to take advantage."

Dipper rolled his eyes.

"Plus," Ford said, "an increase in probability is not a certainty. In fact, it's not even an increase in the probability. The probability is the same no matter what — it's simply an increase in our awareness of the probability."

"It's winter break, Grunkle Ford, I'm not at school."

Ford was silent for a moment. Dipper had stopped to take a picture, so he couldn't see the man's face, but he wasn't imagining it was pleasant at the moment. He looked back just as Ford opened his mouth to speak. "The entire world is a learning experience, Dipper."

"The entire world is school?"

Ford laughed. It was not a happy laugh. "The world is far worse than school."

With that cheery declaration, he stopped. Dipper started to protest that nothing was worth than school, but Ford shushed him. He inspected the trees in front of them, then pulled a folded piece of paper out of his pocket, unfolded it, and looked between the paper and the trees. "I think this is it," he said.

Dipper frowned at him. "What?"

"The home of the minotaurs."

Dipper looked at his uncle like he was crazy. "So. . . where are the minotaurs?"

Ford gestured vaguely in front of them. "They should be just through those trees. Unless they really are hibernating. Let's see, shall we?"

Dipper was super confused, but Ford didn't wait for him to figure it out. He started pulling the sledge again, and Dipper instinctively jumped in to help him. Privately, though, he was wondering if Ford's age had started to get to his brain.

Then the minotaurs flickered into view.

Dipper stopped, his jaw dropping. It took him a few seconds to find his voice — but once he did, words tumbled out alarmingly fast. "Woah! They just appeared out of nowhere! How did they do that?!"

He would've kept going, but Ford's hand clamped over his mouth. At first Dipper thought it was an extreme response to annoyance, but then he saw the real reason Ford wanted him to stop talking: The minotaurs were all staring at them.

"Their life spans are only about fifty years," Ford said in a low voice, "so only the elders, who were children when I was out researching, will remember me." He raised his voice to address the minotaurs. "Hello."

There was a period of silence. Dipper wondered why Ford didn't keep talking, but he supposed he was politely waiting for a response before continuing. A few minotaurs took cautious steps forward.

"Hello," one said in a deep voice. He had shaggy blond hair and rough, tanned skin. "Have you gotten lost?"

"No," Ford said. "I came here on purpose."

There was a palpable silence. "We have not had human visitors for many years," the blond minotaur said.

"Not since that researcher disappeared," added a darker minotaur.

Ford looked surprised that he was known among the minotaurs, but he recovered by taking a deep breath. "I am that researcher," he said.

A hush fell over the crowd.

The blond minotaur blinked. "Are you? I wasn't around when he was. Come see the elders so they can confirm your identity."

Ford nodded and started undoing his harness. "Stay with the sledge," he instructed Dipper.

"What?" Dipper said. "No way! I'm coming with you!"

"The young one may go," the darker minotaur said. "We will watch your sledge."

Dipper undid his harness and jumped up next to Ford before he could argue. Ford sighed but didn't protest. "See?" Dipper said in a loud whisper. "I told you they'd be awake!"

The two Pines followed the blond minotaur through the trees. Now that they were with the minotaurs, Dipper couldn't believe they hadn't been visible earlier. They were pretty big! How could he have not seen them?

"Grunkle Ford," he whispered. "How'd they just appear like that?"

Ford glanced to the blond minotaur, walking just ahead of them. "Some of the supernatural habitats out here are hidden from outside eyes," he explained in normal tones. "Those inside are completely invisible until you cross the threshold. It helps keep interspecies peace, as far as I can tell."

"Ah, yes," the blond minotaur said. "We could see you coming for some time. Some of us wanted to knock you out and take you far away from here, but in the end we decided to wait and see what happened."

"I am grateful," Ford said. "We come to ask for assistance. Though my great nephew here was very excited to meet you."

The blond minotaur looked back at him, and Dipper grinned back nervously.

"We are pretty awesome," the minotaur said.

Dipper's grin widened. This was so cool!

As they walked, the trees thinned out into a wide clearing, where manmade — or, bull-manmade — structures were visible. There were a few snow-covered houses, but the structures that really drew the eye were wide, cordoned-off circles that appeared to be arenas. Wooden risers hosted crowds of minotaurs, and inside the circles were pairs of minotaurs, each wrestling with his partner.

"Woah!" Dipper said in awe as he saw one minotaur slam his opponent into the ground. "I thought you said they were peaceful, Grunkle Ford!"

The blond minotaur, who was leading them down a path that wound through the arenas, paused to look at Ford. "You said we were peaceful?"

Ford looked embarrassed. "I said that to pacify Melody," he told Dipper. "I wasn't being entirely truthful. Well, I was — I just didn't mention what they do for recreation."

"I suppose you could call us peaceful," the minotaur conceded. "Peaceful in that we insist on a fair fight. But we most definitely still have fights."

"Awesome!" Dipper said. "Can we watch one, Ford?"

The minotaur laughed. "If the elders approve, you could even compete in one!"

Dipper's eyes widened to be as big as dinner plates, but Ford laughed nervously. "No, thank you. We're on a bit of a time crunch, I'm afraid."

"Why don't I take you to the elders to ask for your assistance, and while you discuss with them, I take the little one to go watch the fights?" the minotaur suggested. "And if he wanted to compete — well, if you are that researcher, you know from experience that we're fair. We'd put him up against another calf."

"I don't want him competing," Ford said immediately.

"Aw, Ford!" Dipper complained.

Ford silenced him with a warning look before turning back to the minotaur. "But I suppose he could go watch."

"Yes!" Dipper cheered. "Thanks, Ford!"

Ford held up a finger. "When I come to get you, I want you to join me immediately, all right? Don't forget, we want to be back home as soon as possible."

Dipper nodded rapidly. "Okay!"

They continued walking until they reached an arena just off the path. This one, however, did not have a fight going on inside. Instead, a group of elderly minotaurs sat in deep discussion.

"Elders," the blond minotaur said, his voice booming across the arena, "I bring you a human who claims to be the researcher that disappeared thirty years ago."

The elders stopped and looked up. Some of them had faded brown hair with streaks of grey. Others had turned completely white with age. All of their hair was long, flowing down their backs from their bull heads in waves.

"Stanford Pines?" one said. He had the whitest hair of all of them.

Ford nodded. "I'm sorry to have disappeared so suddenly. I forgot myself."

The elders nodded in understanding. "The Order, we presume?" one with salt-and-pepper hair asked. He didn't sound angry, just weary.

"Yes," Ford said. "Luckily, I recently have been able to regain a good portion of my memory. I came to humbly ask for your assistance. Thirty years ago, I did the same, and your fathers helped my assistant and me gather fuel from the downed spaceship. I would like to request that you do so again."

The elders turned to talk amongst themselves, and the blond minotaur signaled to Dipper. He tilted his head back to the path.

Dipper grinned. Thank goodness! He could just tell that Ford would be talking to the elders for a while, and if Dipper had to stand there and listen to all this fancy talk, he may very well implode. He quietly snuck away with the blond minotaur.

"Thanks," he said when they were back on the path. The minotaur headed for the nearest fighting arena, and Dipper followed. "This is gonna be so awesome!"

"It is," his minotaur friend agreed. Anyone who saved Dipper from boredom was his friend. "And we're in luck — the round hasn't started yet!"

The minotaur led Dipper into the stadium. It wasn't much — just the risers jutting out of the snow, forming the circle for the arena, with a gap in one area serving as an entrance. Dipper and his friend walked around the edge of the circle until they were facing the entrance, then climbed up to the top of the risers. The stands weren't crowded the way football stands would be, but there was still a fair amount of minotaurs sitting and waiting for the next match. Dipper looked around at them all with wide eyes — and got a couple stares in return.

He sat down next to his minotaur friend. From the top of the risers, he could see out across the clearing, including the nearby arena where the elders spoke with Ford. He couldn't make out any faces, but he could see the figures — and he could easily tell which one was Ford, since it was smaller and less hairy than all the others.

"It's starting!" said the minotaur excitedly. "Here they come!"

A couple minotaurs banged on some drums across the stadium. A cheer went up as two minotaurs, wearing nothing but loincloths, burst into the arena with arms raised, encouraging their fans.

"You and Stanford came at a good time," the minotaur said. "These two are awesome to watch. That's Terrortaur." He pointed to one of the competitors, a black-haired minotaur with deep brown skin. Then he pointed to the other minotaur, whose ginger hair shone red in the winter sun. "And his opponent is Man o' Meat."

"Woah!" Dipper exclaimed. "Minotaur names are awesome!"

His friend laughed. "Oh, those aren't their real names! Just their stage names. I'm not sure what their real names are." He paused. "Mine is Andrew, by the way."

"Dipper," he replied.

Andrew didn't hold his hand out to shake or anything formal like that. Instead, he just turned back to watch the fight. It made Dipper like him even more.

Terrortaur and Man o' Meat circled each other, kicking up an impressive amount of snow with each step. They called out insults and boasted of their strength; their words sounded vaguely like English, but Dipper couldn't understand the specifics. The spectators jeered and called out in unfamiliar words, too, even though Andrew and the other minotaurs had been speaking English with Dipper and Ford.

Suddenly, one of the drummers banged hard on his drum and yelled something that Dipper didn't recognize but that clearly gave the signal to start.

And with that, the fight began.

The competitors rushed at each other, impressively fast for their large size. They were strong, too. As Dipper watched the fight with wide eyes, the two minotaurs wrestled in the snow, flipping each other over and twisting out of the other's grasp. At one point, Man o' Meat had Terrortaur in a chokehold that looked lethal. But after a few moments, Terrortaur grabbed the arm around his neck and pushed down on it so hard that Man o' Meat lost his balance and flipped over his opponent's head. The ginger minotaur landed with a bone-jarring crash in the snow.

Dipper watched with bated breath, cheering with the crowd and bouncing up and down in his seat. The competitors seemed pretty evenly matched, and they fought for a long time, much to the delight of the audience.

The fight had lasted about fifteen minutes when Andrew nudged Dipper. "I think they're finishing up over there."

Dipper followed his gaze to the distant elders. The figures were moving, and it looked like Ford was walking this way.

A huge cheer from the crowd brought Dipper's attention back to the fight. Man o' Meat was thrashing under Terrortaur, who had him pinned to the ground. Both of them were covered in snow, but neither reacted to the cold.

The drummer across the arena had his hands in the air, and Dipper could see him putting up fingers to count the seconds that Man o' Meat was down. With a growl, the ginger minotaur made a final effort to shove Terrortaur off him. It failed.

The drummer put all ten fingers in the air.

The crowd erupted into cheers. Dipper loved the way minotaurs cheered — they roared their approval, thumping their chests and sometimes putting their neighbor in a friendly headlock. Dipper and Andrew joined them, though luckily Andrew did not roughhouse with Dipper — he wasn't sure he'd survive that.

As Terrortaur helped Man o' Meat to his feet for a handshake that quickly turned into a man hug, Dipper had two thoughts: that this was one of the best things he had ever seen, and that Mabel would not have appreciated it. He was glad he hadn't missed this.

"Let's go meet Stanford," Andrew said, getting to his feet. The other minotaurs were already swarming down from the stands to congratulate Terrortaur or thump Man o' Meat on the back. Dipper wanted to go meet them, but he knew Ford would not appreciate any delays. He followed Andrew out of the arena and toward his great uncle.

"Enjoy yourself?" Ford asked when they reached each other.

"Yes! It was awesome! These two guys named Terrortaur and Man o' Meat were fighting each other, but they were both so strong that it went on for super long, and they were so cool, and—"

"Good, I'm glad you liked it," Ford interrupted. "The elders agreed to send out a team of ten minotaurs to pull our sledge once we fill it," he said to Andrew. "They wanted you to be one of them, as well as find nine other volunteers."

"Will do," said Andrew. "Hey, Dipper, do you want to come ask Terrortaur and Man o' Meat if they'll pull the sledge?"

"Yeah!" Just after he said it, though, Dipper frowned. "But won't they be tired?"

"When are we heading out?" Andrew asked Ford.

"As soon as possible."

Andrew shrugged. "Okay, so maybe not those two. Let's go back to the sledge and ask the people over there, see what we can round up."

Dipper, Ford, and Andrew left the arenas behind and re-entered the trees, making their way back to the sledge. Once there, Andrew explained the situation to whoever he could find nearby as Dipper and Ford ate lunch by the sledge. Dipper hadn't even realized how hungry he was. He'd been too busy cheering during the fight.

It was another half hour before a full group of minotaurs was ready to head out. Ford commented on how remarkably fast that was, but it didn't feel fast to Dipper. It felt like it took forever. Still, he had the fight he had just seen to run through in his head over and over while he waited.

"Are we gonna pull the sledge again?" Dipper asked Ford as the minotaurs gathered around.

Ford shook his head. "We'd probably get in the way. Or get trampled. Either way, they agree that we should just walk nearby."

When the team of minotaurs was all there, Ford raised his voice to address them. "Thank you for your help," he said. "We're going to pull this sledge to Crash Site Omega — the UFO — where we'll take the barrels down into the UFO, fill them with fuel from the ship's reserves, and drag them back on the sledge."

"Drag them where?" a minotaur asked.

"The Mystery Museum," Ford said. "It's on the edge of town, and there's a back way so that no one will see you."

Andrew sighed. "Wouldn't want the Order to go crazy trying to mind-wipe people."

"No," Ford agreed. "Which reminds me. . . the Order doesn't want us to get this fuel. I can almost guarantee they'll try to stop us. If necessary, are you prepared to defend the sledge?"

The minotaurs talked amongst themselves for a moment, then deferred to Andrew. "Will this mission help fight against Bill Cipher?" he asked.

Ford thought about that. "Yes," he finally said.

Dipper frowned. Would it? They weren't fighting against Bill, they were just rescuing Stanley against Bill's wishes. Why Bill was against that, he didn't know, but he hadn't thought about this mission as doing anything to fight Bill — at least, not on the offensive.

"How?" a minotaur asked.

"We're getting the fuel for a rescue mission," Ford explained. "My brother, who I believe is on the Cipher Wheel, is trapped on the other side of an interdimensional portal. We're turning that portal back on to get him back. Once he's returned, we'll have half the members of Wheel."

This sent another buzz through the crowd of minotaurs. Dipper blinked. He hadn't thought of that. Were they trying to find all the members of the Cipher Wheel?

"We don't like to fight members of a different species," Andrew said, "especially if they're innocent. But Bill's power is starting to worry us, and the members of his cult are his method of interacting with the world. They're not innocent. We will defend you and your sledge."

A bit of relief shone through the wrinkles on Ford's face. "Thank you. I discussed this with the elders as well — they agreed to assist us if we would continue gathering the members of the Cipher Wheel."

"Are you on the Wheel?" asked Andrew.

Ford nodded and gestured to Dipper. "We both are."

Andrew looked to Dipper with an expression of respect that made Dipper feel rather uncomfortable. He didn't do anything cool, he just happened to be a part of a prophecy that he didn't even understand.

"It's good that you're willing to fulfill the prophecy, then," said Andrew. To the entire group, he said, "Let's head out." He strapped on one of the harnesses, and he seemed to be content to be the sole person pulling the sledge for now.

As the Pines and the minotaurs started for Crash Site Omega, Dipper felt his discomfort fading, replaced by a mixture of dread and excitement. Dread for the possibility of fighting the Order — but excitement too, because the minotaurs would help fend them off. Dipper had seen what they could do.

So his excitement quickly overtook his dread, and he walked happily alongside Andrew, Ford, and the other minotaurs. This would all work out.

The minotaurs would have their backs.