"Are you sure you'll be okay?" Melody asked.

Gideon set the pillow she had just handed him on the couch. "This is great," he said. "Thanks."

It was the evening of his first day in Mabel's moon. He, Mabel, and Charles had spent most of the day in the forest. Now, Charles had gone home (or, more accurately, disappeared until the next time Mabel wanted him to visit), and Mabel and Gideon had returned to the Museum. Mabel had asked Ford if Gideon could stay, since he was a clone and didn't have anywhere else to go. Ford had agreed — and, like Mabel, he'd been surprisingly uncurious about exactly where Gideon had come from or what he was doing here. Gideon had been welcomed, and now Melody and Mabel were helping him make a bed for himself on the couch.

Where all the adults slept, Gideon wasn't sure. There weren't enough beds in the Museum for them, at least not in the real world. But since they were illusions here, Gideon supposed it didn't matter where they slept. As long as Mabel still thought they were real.

"Are you sure you don't want to borrow some pajamas?" asked Mabel.

"I'll be fine," Gideon said. He didn't want to take any chances with a fake person's fake clothes.

"Okay, then," Melody said. "I'm going to go home now. I'll see you in the morning. Good night." She waved at Gideon and Mabel, then left out the front door.

Gideon blinked. "She doesn't live here?"

Mabel giggled. "No, of course she doesn't. She has her own house nearby, but she comes to work here most days."

Huh. Gideon had thought Melody was some kind of live-in maid. In real life, she'd been at the Museum whenever he'd been there, after all. But he supposed that having servants living on your property was rare and expensive enough that only people like the Northwests did it.

"Thanks for letting me stay here, Mabel," Gideon said.

"Of course. Thanks for coming with Charles and me today. I'm sorry he couldn't shrink you."

"It's fine. I'm glad you had a good time."

Charles' surprise had been a pretty good one: a village of brownies. The brownies were tiny people about as tall as Gideon's index finger, and Charles had taken Mabel to see them and interact with them. How? By using his amulet to shrink her and himself to their size.

The real amulet couldn't do that.

Charles claimed he could only shrink two people at a time. Gideon didn't know if that was true or if he just said it to exclude him, but either way, Gideon didn't get to join Charles and Mabel in their visit to the brownie village. He sat outside, a few feet from the village gates, watching tiny Mabel and Charles walk in as some nearby brownies eyed Gideon nervously. He wondered what it would be like from their perspective, to have a giant person come and sit outside your home.

The brownies followed Mabel and Charles inside, and Gideon didn't see any others until Mabel came out again. It was more evidence that, besides Gideon, everyone only existed around Mabel. Gideon heard distant birdsong while he waited, but saw no animals.

Mabel and Charles were in the brownie village for much of the day. Gideon was rather bored waiting for them. More than that, he was anxious. If this was Mabel's perfect world, then nobody would attack her, right? Gideon thought she was safe from that, at least, but he didn't think he could count on it. And even if no one visibly attacked her, she was still in danger just by being in this moon. How was Gideon going to get her out of here if Charles wasted her time by shrinking her down to go visit brownies?

Eventually, Mabel and Charles had come out of the brownie village, and Charles had returned them both to their normal size. Mabel's eyes were alight with joy as she recounted to Gideon all the great things she'd seen in the brownie village, and she thanked Charles again and again for his surprise. Gideon had followed her and Charles back to the Museum, where Charles had said goodbye and left.

Good riddance.

Gideon had eaten dinner with the Pines, and then they'd all played board and card games. Waddles, the dumb pig, had tried to eat Gideon's cards the whole time, but Gideon hardly noticed, since he was trying to talk to Mabel. She'd been too focused on the games; it wasn't until now that he'd gotten a moment alone with her. The sun outside was setting, and Gideon felt tired, but he didn't want to sleep.

"Well, I'm going to go to bed now," Mabel said.

"Wait, Mabel," said Gideon. "I need to talk to you."

"About what?"

"About—" He took a breath. This shouldn't be hard. He was good at being blunt. "Mabel, I know today was wonderful, but this world isn't real. You're in a magical prison that's slowly draining your—"

"Hey, Mabel, are you coming?" Dipper called down the stairs.

Mabel glanced up the stairs, then back at Gideon. "Sorry, Gideon, I really should go to bed. Can you tell me in the morning?"

Gideon stared at her. Had she even heard him? She wasn't reacting to what he had told her. "No," he said, "it really can't wait. You're dying, Mabel. We have to get you out of here."

Dipper appeared at the top of the stairs, poking out his head above the banister. "Come on, Mabel, I wanna hear all about your day."

"She told you about her day at dinner," Gideon said irritably. "Let me talk to her."

"But she didn't tell me the details," Dipper said. "Please, Mabel?"

"Okay, okay," Mabel said. "Sorry, Gideon. I'll see you in the morning. Good night." She smiled at him, then went up the stairs.

Gideon watched her go, dumbfounded. His words weren't registering with her at all.

Stupid magic.

Did he need to kidnap her or something? Forcibly take her to the Order headquarters and get her out of the moon? He probably could do that, but he didn't want to. What if the people in this fake world stopped him? What if Mabel hated him, even after she was thinking straight again? Maybe he was a coward to be worried about that, but. . . well, it was a miracle that Mabel had forgiven him in the past. He didn't want to do anything else that would hurt her.

With a sigh, Gideon turned off the light in the living room, took off his pack, and lay down on the couch. What a mess.

He was tired, but he didn't think he could sleep. It was dangerous to sleep when he still didn't know exactly how this world worked. What if he fell asleep and woke up after Mabel was already dead? No, he shouldn't sleep. He sat up, realizing he shouldn't even lie down. He probably should stand up and move around, to keep his energy up, but. . . it was nice, sitting there on the couch in the dark and quiet.

What should he do, short of kidnapping Mabel, to get her out of here? If he could get her alone for more than a minute, maybe he could get her to listen to him. Or he could convince her to go to the library with him. She liked libraries, so surely that wouldn't be too hard. And then he'd take her to the back door, under the guise of showing her something cool the way Charles had, and get her out.

He didn't want to trick her there. He could try, but it would be easier if she knew what was going on and wanted to leave. How could he convince her, though, if she wouldn't listen? Was there a way he could show her things from the real world, rather than just tell her about them?

The answer came to him almost instantly. Of course! Her sketchbook! Dipper had given Gideon her sketchbook, and it surely had drawings of the people and events from the real world.

Gideon reached down for his pack. He had kept it on his back all day, for fear of it disappearing somehow, but he'd taken it off to lie on the couch. Bad idea; he should put it back on. But his tired shoulders convinced him not to, so instead he set it beside himself on the couch. His amulet lit up, and he pulled out the waterproof bag that held Mabel's sketchbook.

He took the sketchbook out of the bag and opened it. He had seen Mabel drawing in it in the time he'd spent at the Museum. She'd been too shy to show him her sketches, but, well, he was going to look at them now. Part of him felt self-conscious about that, but he pushed the feeling away. He needed to know what was in here so he could craft his arguments.

The sketchbook was about three-fourths of the way full. Gideon wondered how many full sketchbooks Mabel had at home. He started at the most recent drawing and went backwards, studying sketches of Dipper, of Ford, of Lincoln, of Andrew the minotaur, and of Gideon himself. Mabel's art style wasn't photorealistic, but the facial features and proportions were fairly accurate. She had a cartoon style as well, which she often used for Dipper and for fictional characters, but most of her drawings of the people in Gravity Rises were in her more realistic style. There were fairies, and shadowy sketches of Pacifica, and a particularly detailed drawing of Fiddleford with his white beard, black eyepatch, and crinkly smile. Gideon remembered that day: Fidds had been talking to Mabel about her art, and she mentioned that it was hard to remember details when she was sketching from memory. So Fidds had offered to pose for her, and she shyly — but eagerly — accepted. The resulting sketch wasn't perfect, but it was really good.

Plenty of the sketches were happy, but there were also some dark, creepy sketches, particularly the ones of Pacifica. A few hooded Order members lurked in the corners of the pages, too. Gideon could show those darker sketches to Mabel to try to bring back her memories.

Near the end of the sketchbook, one particular sketch grabbed Gideon's attention. It was a sketch of Mabel's parents, smiling at the viewer with their arms around each other. Beneath the drawing, Mabel had written, "Will I ever see them again?"

Gideon looked sadly at the drawing. Mabel had fake versions of her parents here in the moon. But what about her real parents? What were they doing? How did they feel after their children hadn't come home last week? Mabel might be happy with the parents she had in here, but her real parents would be heartbroken if their daughter died. Gideon had to get that through her head somehow.

He had been looking through the sketchbook and planning for about half an hour when something lit up in his periphery. Gideon looked over to see sunlight shining through the diamond-shaped window in the door.

What?

He put Mabel's sketchbook back in his backpack and shrugged the pack onto his shoulders — just in case — before standing and going over to the door. He opened it and stepped onto the porch — into the sunlight. The morning sun was to his left, bathing the lawn and the trees with its light.

But. . . it was night. It had just been night a moment ago. It had been only half an hour since Mabel had gone to bed. Gideon had been feeling tired himself.

With a start, Gideon realized that he no longer felt tired. He felt energized, as if he'd just gotten a full night's sleep. Had he fallen asleep? Had the sun woken him up? No. . . no, he'd been looking through Mabel's sketchbook. He hadn't fallen asleep.

Time had skipped to morning.

Footsteps in the house pulled his attention away from the sunlit lawn. Dipper ran down the stairs, followed by Mabel. "Good morning, Gideon," she said, noticing him through the open front door. "What are you doing out there?"

Gideon came back inside and closed the door. "I was, um, just watching the sunrise."

"Oh, cool. Did you have a good night's sleep?"

Clearly, Mabel had no idea that time had just skipped forward. "No," Gideon said, "I didn't sleep at all. There was no time to, because time skipped."

"Huh?"

She actually seemed to hear him this time. Gideon tried not to get too excited. "The sun rose only a few minutes after it set," he said. "This world is an illusion, Mabel. You probably thought you were falling asleep, when really you were just closing your eyes for a moment before you 'woke up' again with more energy. I saw with my own eyes how the night turned to day. It happened in an instant."

With a sinking heart, he realized that Mabel's eyes had glazed over again as he spoke. Even if she had heard the first thing he'd said about time skipping, she didn't seem to hear much else. "I'm glad you watched the night turn to day," she said. "That sounds pretty. I'm sorry you didn't get any sleep, though. Do you want to try sleeping in Dipper's bed while the rest of us eat breakfast?"

Gideon scowled. "No," he said through gritted teeth, "I'll be fine. I have energy."

"Are you sure? You look upset."

"Yes, I'm upset," Gideon said, forcing himself not to shout at her. "I'm upset because you're dying. I'm upset because you don't realize this world isn't real."

He looked her in the eye. He spoke clearly.

Yet she still didn't listen.

"I'm sorry you're upset," she said. "Will breakfast help? Melody will come make it in a few minutes."

Gideon barely managed to stop the frustrated scream that simmered in his throat. "Breakfast sounds great," he said. He wanted to go outside and scream at the sky, at the illusory world that was trapping his friend. But he didn't want to leave her side. Anything could happen to her if he left. So he followed Mabel and Dipper into the gift shop, where Melody and Robbie were getting ready to open up shop.

"Morning, kids," Melody said. "I was just about to go make breakfast. Give me a minute." She put merchandise on the shelves, filling in the empty spaces where customers had bought the previous trinkets.

Mabel and Dipper greeted her, then went over to talk to Robbie. Gideon stayed near the Employees Only door. He was still scowling, but he didn't care. Mabel wasn't listening. If he showed her the sketchbook, would she even see it? Or would her eyes pass over it the way her ears passed over Gideon's words?

Twenty minutes later, Gideon followed Mabel to the kitchen, where he ate breakfast with her and her fake family. Everyone was cheerful — everyone except Gideon. They asked him concerned questions, but he deflected them and ate silently.

After breakfast, a knock sounded on the door. "Oh, that's Charles," Mabel said to her family. "He's going to take me back to the brownie village. There are still some places there that he wants to show me."

"Okay. Be back by dinner," her mom said.

What? Charles, again? Gideon closed his eyes and moaned quietly.

"Do you want to come with us again, Gideon?" asked Mabel. "I understand if you don't, since it was kinda boring for you."

"I'd love to come," Gideon said.

"Even though you just sat there the whole time?"

He considered this. If he didn't want to let Mabel out of his sight, then maybe he needed some kind of excuse. Clearly, the true reason — that he didn't trust this fake world, that he didn't want Mabel disappearing on him — wouldn't get through Mabel's head. So, instead, "When Charles created me, he was thinking about how he wanted to spend time with you that day. I guess that thought transferred to me, because. . . I don't want to leave your side." He threw in an embarrassed smile. Would that lame excuse work?

Apparently it did. "That's so sweet," Mabel's dad said.

Mabel nodded in agreement, smiling at Gideon. "In that case, you're welcome to come wherever I go," she said. "I don't mind."

Gideon forced a smile, trying not to think about how unnatural this all was. Surely Mabel's real father wouldn't be so enthusiastic about a boy following his daughter around. On that note, neither would Mabel. She liked her alone time; she'd be stressed thinking about how someone was always near her. When she and Gideon were together at the Museum, they didn't spend all their time together, since both of them liked being alone for at least part of the day. But here, it seemed Mabel spent all day with Charles when he came around.

His brain caught hold of that thought. Maybe. . . maybe she was spending all day with Charles because they were a couple. Maybe she had feelings for Gideon the way he did for her.

No. Stop it, Gideon. Even if she did have feelings for him, he didn't come here for that. He had to stay focused.

Mabel got up to let Charles in. Dipper followed her. "Mabel, do you think I can come with you this time?" he asked. "I'd love to see the brownie village."

"Sure!" said Mabel. "Charles said he can only shrink two people at once, though, so we'll have to take turns."

She opened the door, and Charles came in. He seemed annoyed to see Gideon still there, but Mabel explained that Gideon and Dipper were coming with them.

Melody made lunches for all of them. Then they went outside, and Charles levitated himself and Mabel. "I'll come back for you, Dipper," he said.

Gideon flew after Mabel and Charles. So Charles could only levitate two people at a time? That was good to know. It was still one too many people, compared to the real amulet, but at least he couldn't levitate a whole room of people at once. Plus, if Charles had to go back to get Dipper, then Gideon would have a minute alone with Mabel.

They landed near the brownie village, and a few little people appeared at the gates and waved. Mabel grinned and waved back.

"I'll go get Dipper," Charles said, and he jumped back into the air and flew away.

Perfect. "Mabel," said Gideon.

Mabel was still smiling at the brownies.

"Mabel," he said again. "Can we talk?"

She turned to him. "Of course," she said.

"This world isn't real," Gideon said. "You're a prisoner here. You haven't been listening to me"—even now, her eyes were starting to look unfocused—"but I have proof. I have something to show you."

He sat on the ground and pulled off his pack, and Mabel sat across from him. "What is it?" she asked. Her tone was that of someone about to see a nice surprise, not someone who had just been told she was a prisoner.

Gideon bit back a frustrated growl and pulled Mabel's sketchbook from his pack. "This," he said. "I have your sketchbook from the real world. It has pictures you drew." He opened the sketchbook and turned to a page with a dark sketch that showed Dipper kneeling over a dead Mabel, with Pacifica lurking in the background. It was a gruesome drawing. Gideon's eyes scanned Mabel's face to see her reaction.

"Oh yeah, the fairy," Mabel said. "I remember drawing that."

Gideon frowned and looked back at the page. On one page was the sketch of Pacifica, but on the other was a drawing of a fairy. "No, not that one," Gideon said, pointing. "This one."

Mabel looked at the other page. "That's creepy," she said.

"Yes, it is." Gideon felt as if he were trying to explain things to a young child. "You drew it after your first bad experience with Pacifica. Remember? Pacifica Pleasure?"

A sudden change came over Mabel's face. Her open, curious look was now a hesitant, fearful one. She clutched at her right hand as if it were in pain.

"See?" Gideon said. "See, don't you remember? Pacifica? I know it's painful to remember, but you have to. Pacifica is the reason you're trapped here. You have to remember. We have to get you out of here."

For a moment, Mabel looked extremely sad and afraid, as if the weight of the world had just settled onto her shoulders. She stared at the picture.

Then she tore her eyes away. "Sorry," she said, and her demeanor lightened. "That's a character I created. But she started making me sad, so I guess I forgot about her."

"No!" The word burst from Gideon, and Mabel blinked in surprise. "No, Mabel, you were so close! She's not a character; she's a real person; you have to remember!"

It was just like yesterday, when Gideon had mentioned the library and Mabel had flinched, only to deny it moments later. "I saw you," Gideon insisted. "You grabbed your hand, where Pacifica stabbed you. The look on your face wasn't sadness because of a character. It was the sadness and pain of your memories. Of your real experiences with Pacifica."

Mabel shook her head. "I was just remembering when I sketched that picture. I was feeling pretty down. But now I'm not. Now I can be happy. So I don't like thinking about it."

Gideon studied her face. This was the closest she'd gotten to admitting that she ever felt sad. Was she saying that she chose to forget? That she chose to live in a world where everything was perfect?

No. He couldn't believe that. It was the prison. It was the magic that was deceiving her.

"There's Charles and Dipper," Mabel said, pointing. Charles and Dipper appeared in the distance, flying towards them. That was the end of Gideon's time alone with Mabel.

"Well, I'll take Mabel in first," Charles said once he and Dipper had landed. "You two wait out here. You can have a turn in a little while, Dipper."

"Okay," Dipper said cheerfully.

"See you in a bit," Mabel said. She and Charles shrank and walked to the brownie village.

"So," said Dipper conversationally, "what's it like being a clone?"

Gideon stared at him. Were the two boys going to be out here alone for the entire time that Mabel and Charles were gone? Could Gideon maybe get information from this fake Dipper?

He may as well try. "Look," he said, "I don't know who or what you are, but you're not fooling me. I need you to tell me what kind of magic is affecting Mabel's mind and how to combat it. Got that?"

Dipper looked at him in confusion.

Then he disappeared.

Gideon stuck out a hand to where Dipper had been a moment before, but felt nothing. He looked to the brownie village and realized he could no longer see Mabel. She and Charles must have just gone around a corner. And because Dipper only existed when Mabel was there to see him, he had disappeared.

Gideon was left alone to stew in his frustration.

He put Mabel's sketchbook away in his pack and lay down on the grass. Then he let out a guttural scream.