Dipper, Gideon, and the nymph flew through the trees. Dipper felt himself speeding through nothingness; he saw flashes of blue light as the forest rushed by. He had liked this sensation when he'd traveled through the trees with June — but now, in the high tension of their escape, he just wished for it to be over.

He soon stumbled out of another tree. He and Gideon, who had been pulled through at the same time, crashed into each other and landed in a heap.

"I'm sorry!" said the nymph. Was that June? "We usually only take one person at a time — you two haven't swapped any body parts, have you?"

Gideon scrambled away from Dipper and quickly checked that he had all his limbs. Dipper grabbed the grappling hook, which had fallen nearby, and put it safely in his pack. Then he simply sat there, dazed, remembering the feeling of the wind above his head as the bullet had sped past him.

A hand nudged Dipper's arm. "Are you okay?" said the nymph, sounding worried.

Dipper blinked and shook his head. "I'm fine. Thank you, Ju. . ." He stopped, looking for the first time at the nymph who had saved them. "Oh, hi," he said, "what's your name?"

The nymph — who definitely wasn't June, though she was similarly tall and willowy — blinked. "Oh. I'm, um. . ." She thought for a moment, fiddling with a strand of her blonde hair. "Call me Cedar."

"Thank you, Cedar," Gideon said. He winced and put a hand to his head, which had had its fair share of collisions with trees as the boys had run through the forest. "Anything you can do for a headache?"

"You two look pretty scratched up," Cedar said. "I can help with that."

"How would you do that?" Gideon asked.

"I'll take you into my tree and heal your injuries," Cedar said. "With minor injuries like you have, it'll only be a few minutes each."

"Sounds great," Dipper said. So Cedar took him into her tree, healed him with her magic, and brought him back out a few minutes later. The scratches and bruises healed easily, and being inside the tree felt calm and peaceful.

"Your turn," she said to Gideon.

He shook his head. "I'm fine. My headache is already fading."

Dipper frowned, but Gideon didn't look at him. "Are you sure?" Cedar asked.

"I'm sure."

She shrugged. "Suit yourself. Are you two going up to the Northwest Manor?"

Dipper and Gideon shared a look. "How'd you know?" Dipper asked.

"I can see some of your thoughts when you're inside my tree," Cedar told him. "You were thinking about going up to the Northwest Manor. To get something." She looked at Gideon, her eyes lingering on his white hair. "Are you a Northwest?"

"Yes," Gideon said. "My amulet is at the Manor, and we're going to get it."

Cedar pursed her lips. "I can't get to the Manor from here," she said. "The rifts disrupted the tree network. I can only take you to trees in this same section of the forest."

"Is that why June didn't come?" asked Dipper.

Cedar nodded. "She's in a different area. I can't even see her tree." She shuddered a bit. "We can usually see the entire forest. It's so strange to be cut off from most of it."

Gideon and Dipper shared a look. "Any other ideas, then, on how we can get to the Manor?" said Gideon. "Surely there's a way to fly over the rifts."

Cedar thought for a moment. "Yes," she said, as if to herself. "I think I can access her tree."

"Whose tree?" said Dipper.

Cedar held out a hand. "Another hamadryad. You can call her. . . Ivy. Now, who wants to go first?"

Dipper volunteered, so Cedar took him through the trees to another part of the forest. As they went, Dipper somehow felt that Cedar was communicating with someone else in the tree network, although he couldn't hear any words.

As Dipper left the trees, a new person caught him. "Hi," said a female voice. "I'm. . . wait, what did Cedar say to call me, again?"

"Ivy," Dipper said, getting his balance and smiling at this new hamadryad. She had curly black hair and dark skin like warm earth. "Hi, I'm Dipper."

"Hi, Dipper," Ivy said with a smile. "Cedar said you needed to borrow some of my perytons."

Dipper frowned. "Pery-what?"

At that moment, Cedar and Gideon appeared. "Perytons," Ivy said, with a welcoming smile at Gideon. "I watch over a herd of perytons, and you're welcome to ask for their help."

"You mean winged deer?" said Gideon, his eyes lighting up. "Really?"

Ivy nodded and beckoned for them to follow her. Cedar said goodbye; the boys thanked her again, and she disappeared. Dipper and Gideon followed Ivy through the trees, and Dipper got increasingly excited to see these winged deer.

"Is Ivy not your real name?" asked Dipper as they went. She and Cedar were acting weird about name, like they had to make up fake ones.

Gideon answered before Ivy. "The Journal says they don't want to share their real names with humans," he said.

Ivy smiled. "Yes, our real names are private. Not least because you wouldn't be able to pronounce them," she said with a wink at Dipper.

Dipper hardly caught the wink. He was too busy raising his eyebrows at Gideon. Gideon just shrugged, and Dipper smirked. What a nerd.

"The perytons are usually close to my tree," Ivy remarked, "but sometimes they go off like this. When we find them, I'll call two of them to you, and you'll wait for them to come. Then give them a little bow to show respect, and explain that you would be grateful if they could help you fly around the forest. They'll understand you."

"Will they respond?" Dipper asked.

Gideon gave a quiet, rude snort. Ivy laughed. "No," she said, "they don't speak aloud. But they listen, and they're great at communicating mind-to-mind."

Soon, they could see silhouettes of the perytons through the trees. It was a lot darker here, in the middle of the forest, than it had been in the open space around the Museum. Dipper squinted, trying to make out the perytons in detail.

"Stay here," Ivy said softly. The boys stopped, and Ivy went forward to greet the perytons. Dipper watched as a peryton touched her hand with its nose, and she stroked its wing. She spoke softly to the perytons, and a few of them raised their heads to look at Dipper and Gideon. Their black eyes glinted.

Then Ivy said something, and two of the perytons spread their wings out halfway, shaking them and dislodging a few feathers. Ivy started walking back to the boys, and the two perytons followed.

Dipper's eyes widened in delight as the perytons drew closer. They were beautiful. They had tawny brown winter coats and grey or brown wings with huge feathers. Dipper wanted to run up and bury his face in one of those fuzzy necks, but he refrained. Ivy said they had to show respect.

"Here they are," Ivy said, "Dipper and. . ."

"Gideon," said Gideon, bowing slightly to the perytons. Dipper followed suit.

The perytons nodded their graceful heads and stepped closer, reaching their heads out as if inviting the boys to pat their necks.

Dipper didn't hesitate. He reached out and gently rubbed the neck of the doe in front of him. "You're beautiful," he said. "Will you help us? We need to fly to the Northwest Manor."

Beside them, Gideon was patting the other peryton, a buck with impressive antlers and smoky grey wings. "I can feel them," Gideon said quietly, his voice awed. "They're agreeing to help us."

Dipper could feel it, too: a calm assurance emanating from the doe, telling him that it would be okay, the perytons would help. "Woah," he said. "Cool."

Ivy smiled like a proud mother. "Explain to them exactly what you need," she said, "so they know what they're agreeing to."

So the boys explained: They would go up to the Northwest Manor, stay nearby until they'd retrieved the amulet and the Pines brothers, and then go back to the Mystery Museum. Gideon would fly with his amulet once he got it, so he only needed a ride to the Manor. "Can you carry me and one of my grunkles at the same time?" Dipper asked the perytons. They nodded.

"It'll be dangerous," Gideon told them bluntly. "I don't know how much security the Manor has. At the very least, there are ten servants there who all know how to use a gun. Plus ten more servants at the Museum, also with guns. They won't hesitate to shoot you, so we'll have to be careful."

The perytons responded with a determination to help them regardless. "You're doing this to fight against Cipher, aren't you?" said Ivy.

Gideon nodded. "We're saving Mabel from the spell she's in. It'll stop the township from moving. And we're rescuing Dipper's uncles from the Manor. We're getting all ten Symbols together."

Ivy smiled. "Then the perytons are willing to help," she said, and the perytons nodded again.

Dipper stroked the doe's wing in gratitude. "Do they have names?" he asked suddenly. "What should we call you?" he asked the doe.

"They don't have verbal names," said Ivy.

"Can I give you names?" Dipper asked the perytons.

A sense of amusement came to him from the perytons. They nodded.

He grinned. "Awesome! I'll call you. . . Marigold," he said to the doe. "And you can be Rowan," he told the buck.

From the feelings Dipper sensed from the perytons, they liked those names.

"Great," said Gideon with a slight roll of his eyes. "I'll ride Rowan. You ride Marigold. Is it okay if we leave right now?"

The perytons agreed. They stepped forward, bending their front legs and exposing their backs. Dipper and Gideon climbed up and sat just behind their wing joints.

"Thank you, Ivy, for your help!" Dipper said to the hamadryad.

"Of course," Ivy said, smiling. "I wish you the best."

"We'll stop this," Gideon promised. "We won't let Cipher get any closer to his dimension."

"I'll support you," Ivy replied.

"Wait, Ivy, could you come with us?" asked Dipper. "Help us out at the Manor with your magic?"

Ivy shook her head. "Hamadryads belong on the ground, near the trees. I could lose my connection to my tree and die if I flew with you. I'll have to stay here, but if there's anything I can do in this section of the forest, let me know."

Dipper and Gideon shared a glance. "Any invisibility magic you could give us?" Gideon asked.

"Sadly, no."

"Then I can't think of anything, unless you want to do something to sabotage the servants and Order members around the Mystery Museum." Gideon glanced to Dipper. "You ready?"

"Ready," said Dipper. "Thanks again, Ivy."

"You're welcome."

Dipper gave the hamadryad one last smile. Then, flapping their big wings, the perytons ran across the snow, pushed off the ground, and flew into the air.

~~~~~

Dipper and Gideon were gone, and Pacifica was terrified for them.

She wasn't supposed to know they were gone. Breakfast had been later than usual today, but Pacifica hadn't thought much of it. (It didn't much matter when breakfast was, since there was no day or night, not anymore.) But when Pacifica had followed Melody to the kitchen, something had felt different. And then she saw Melody crying.

It's not that Pacifica cared about Melody. She didn't. But she was curious, so she'd asked why Melody was crying. The woman had been hesitant, but Pacifica had badgered her until she answered: She was crying because Dipper and Gideon had left. They'd gone into danger, all in hopes of rescuing Mabel.

Pacifica hadn't finished her breakfast. She'd thrown a tantrum instead. Melody had sent her back to the parlor, where she'd cried and thrown things (though she only had soft things, like bedding, to throw around — not very effective) and blown off steam. Waddles was there — the pig was spending an unusual amount of time with Pacifica, and no amount of screaming or throwing things could drive him away. Pacifica tried anyway, all the while crying about Dipper and Gideon.

They couldn't go. They couldn't rescue Mabel! Pacifica was supposed to help them see the truth, help them throw off Mabel's evil influence. If the boys saved Mabel, she'd just hurt them all over again! Not to mention they could get seriously hurt in the attempt. It was infinitely better to have them here — even if Gideon insisted on interrogating Pacifica, and Dipper avoided her and lashed out at her. Better that than rescuing Mabel.

Pacifica's tantrum ran out energy, and she stood there in the shadows, breathing heavily. The parlor was dark — the only light came from Mabel's moon, shining through the windows. Pacifica had thought of escaping through them, but she was scared of breaking the glass and hurting herself. She couldn't make herself intangible and phase out of the Museum, either: She didn't have her grandfather's notes on hexal magic, or a way to ink her skin. But escape wasn't urgent at the moment, especially because the dagger was here in the Museum, hidden somewhere. If Pacifica could find the dagger while here, then she could return it to Bill when she escaped.

But the dagger wasn't in this room, and Pacifica didn't think Melody would allow her to go anywhere else. She sighed. There was nothing to see, nothing to do here, unless she wanted to pet the stupid pink pig that still wouldn't go away. Pacifica threw herself onto the air mattress and lay there in silence.

This wasn't how things were supposed to go. With time, Dipper was supposed to see reason and join Pacifica's side. Then he and Pacifica (and Gideon and Lincoln) would help Bill get to his dimension, where they'd all live in peace. Pacifica tried to be patient — even when Dipper attacked her yesterday, she tried not to let it get to her. He would calm down soon enough.

But not if he went to rescue Mabel. She would undo all of Pacifica's progress.

Pacifica lay there, tears drying on her face, and tried to think of happy things. She imagined the peace and happiness she'd have with her loved ones when they got to Bill's dimension. Surely it'd be wonderful. Surely they'd have everything they wanted. Buoyed by this thought, Pacifica began to wipe the tears from her face.

"You really think you'll live long enough to see Bill's dimension?" said a derisive voice.

Pacifica froze.

"Every time I think you can't get any more stupid, you still manage to surprise me," the voice continued. "And look at you. Hiding away in the Mystery Museum, crying because your precious friends abandoned you."

The initial shock passed, and Pacifica leapt to her feet. "No," she whispered, backing up against the wall and almost tripping over Waddles. Her eyes searched the shadowed darkness of the parlor. "No, no, no. . ."

"Oh, yes." From the shadows came an all-too-familiar figure. "Oh, yes, Pacifica," said Spirit Mabel. "I told you you'd never get rid of me, didn't I?"

"No!" Pacifica pressed her hands over her eyes. "No, you're not here! You're up in the sphere in the sky! You're dying!"

"No, I'm not," Spirit Mabel said. Her voice was far too calm. "Of course I'm not. Mabel is dying, yes. You made sure of that. But I am not Mabel."

Pacifica peeked through her fingers. "What?"

Spirit Mabel folded her arms and smirked. "What an idiot. Did you really think that Mabel — scared, innocent Mabel — was me? But of course you did. You wanted something external to fight against. You wanted to distract yourself from the internal threat."

"What internal threat?" Pacifica demanded. She was still in shock, still terrified — but Spirit Mabel was standing on the other side of the room, and the distance helped just a bit.

"Me, of course," said Spirit Mabel. "Oh, I pretended I was Mabel. I played along with your little fantasies of revenge against a false enemy. But then you defeated that enemy, didn't you? You really believed I was gone, so I left for a few days. But now I'm back, Pacifica. And I can finally show you who I really am."

Pacifica pressed herself against the wall, wishing desperately that she could phase through it, the way she'd phased through walls last Friday. But she had no hexal magic to help her now. She was stuck. She could try to run from the room, but Spirit Mabel was standing near the door; Pacifica didn't dare go near her, whether or not the spirit was corporeal.

It seemed Spirit Mabel was waiting. Waiting for Pacifica to say something. So, even though she hated it, Pacifica asked, "And who are you, really?" in the most disinterested voice she could.

Spirit Mabel grinned. The grin looked too big for a human face. Pacifica immediately regretted saying anything.

Then Spirit Mabel began to change. The skin on her face melted, running down her orange hoodie in streams. Then the hoodie started to drip, too. Soon, Spirit Mabel's entire body melted like a candle under a hot flame. The dripping skin and clothes fell to the floor, revealing another figure beneath.

"I'm you," the figure said.

She looked like Pacifica. She had Pacifica's favorite elaborate hairstyle. She wore Pacifica's psychic show outfit — an outfit Pacifica had left at the Northwest Manor when she'd gone to get the dagger. But the dress looked different: Its bright purple was now a dark indigo, and the yellow moons were dull. It also seemed to be dripping around the edges.

And her face. Instead of eyes, this new shade had deep black spheres in her eye sockets. Similar to Pacifica's psychic look, she had long eyelashes — they were silver against the blackness of her eyes — and dark purple eyeshadow. Somehow, there was more personality in those black eyes — a dark, hateful personality — than Pacifica had ever seen. The shade's mouth curled in a vindictive smile as Pacifica stared in horror at her eyes.

"Do you like it?" the shade said. "This is what you really look like, Pacifica. I'm you. I'm a more authentic version of you than you are yourself."

"No," Pacifica whispered.

"Saying 'no' doesn't change me," Shadow Pacifica said. "You created me, you know. Every time you pushed away a rational thought. . . every time you wondered, 'Is Mabel really evil?' but dismissed the idea. . . every time, those thoughts helped build me. Every time you assured yourself that you were in the right, the truth that you were in the wrong became me. I know how terrible you are, Pacifica, because you pushed all the terrible things into me."

"But—" Pacifica couldn't look away from those horrible eyes. "But you were Mabel. You told me you were Mabel!"

"Because that's what you wanted to hear!" said Shadow Pacifica with a laugh. "How could I get it through your thick skull that you were wrong? I couldn't! You forced me — however subconsciously — to play the part of your enemy. You would rather deal with her than deal with me."

"But — but—"

"But, but, but," Shadow Pacifica repeated mockingly. "Looks like I've broken poor Pacifica." Her silver eyelashes glinted over her soulless eyes. "Well, since I have your attention, I'll go back to the original reason I came. You were foolishly thinking that Bill would let you live in his dimension."

Pacifica didn't know what she thought anymore. But she drew herself up and put her hands on her hips. "Yes, that's what I think," she said stubbornly. "He's been good to me, and there's no reason why he wouldn't share his home."

"Unless you're dead," said Shadow Pacifica, "which is a prerequisite to his getting home. Weren't you paying attention to what Gideon has been telling you for the past five days? Bill needs all of his Symbols to die in order to get home. Oh wait," she said, sneering, "you weren't paying attention. You gave that information to me so you wouldn't have to deal with it."

"Bill thanked me for my help on Friday," Pacifica said. "He's grateful to me. He wouldn't kill me."

"Oh, please," the shade said. "He can be grateful and still want you dead. I'm sure he'll be plenty thankful to you while he's killing you. He'll finish killing Mabel, and once he gets his hands on the dagger, he'll come after you. He'll go after Dipper, after Gideon, after Lincoln. You all will die, and you should just hope he gets you first, so you don't have to lose your friends one by one."

Pacifica stared at her in horror.

"Or," Shadow Pacifica continued, "I suppose it would be more fitting if he saved you for last. Or second-to-last, since Lincoln probably has to be last. But you certainly deserve to see everyone you care about die because of your own stupid, deluded mistakes."

"Stop!" Pacifica shouted. "Stop talking about — about dying! Stop it!"

Shadow Pacifica paused, raising her eyebrows. "Why should I? You sent Mabel to die. You seem just fine talking about that."

"Because Mabel is — she's—"

"Evil?" Shadow Pacifica laughed cruelly. "No, she's not. She never was. You are the evil one, Pacifica."

"No!" With a guttural cry, Pacifica ran for the door, flinging it open and running out before Shadow Pacifica could do anything to stop her. Waddles squealed in surprise at the sudden movement, but Pacifica ignored him. She ran down the hall, her socks slipping dangerously on the cold wooden floor. She didn't know where she was going. Out to Cipher's servants? Could she trust them?

Why was she suddenly doubting them?

"Hiding from me is only going to make it worse," Shadow Pacifica called after her. Pacifica looked over her shoulder to see the shade floating behind her. "You have to face me, Pacifica."

"Pacifica? What's wrong?" From the kitchen, Melody saw Pacifica running down the hall. She put down the mug she was holding and ran to meet Pacifica. Her body blocked the front door; Pacifica didn't know if she was relieved or angered by that.

"She's back." Pacifica didn't want to say anything to Melody, but she found herself babbling. "She's back, she's back, and she's worse than ever—"

"Who's back?" Melody asked. She put an arm around Pacifica and guided her to the living room couch. Pacifica stumbled alongside her. "Come sit with me," Melody said gently. The tears on her face from earlier were gone. Pacifica's tears, however, were starting up again.

Pacifica curled up next to Melody and buried her face in the woman's side, trying to avoid seeing Shadow Pacifica. "Please," she whispered into Melody's shirt. "Leave me alone. Please."

"You want me to leave you alone?" Melody asked.

"No!" Well, yes, a part of Pacifica wanted Melody to leave her alone. She was mortally embarrassed to act this way around her. But she was too concerned with hiding from her shade, so she clung to Melody regardless.

"She's a good resource," Shadow Pacifica said. "But she won't solve your problems. You have to solve your own problems, Pacifica. You have to own up to the evil you've done. You have to see Bill for who he really is. You have to fight him."

Pacifica bristled at this; and, heedless of Melody beside her, she whipped around to face Shadow Pacifica. "You're not me!" she insisted. "You can't be! I would never think of fighting Bill!"

"But you have," Shadow Pacifica insisted. Her soulless eyes were only inches from Pacifica's face. "Even if you didn't consciously know it, you've thought about fighting Bill. That thought became part of me, because you didn't want it. I'm the one who sees the truth about him! The truth you deliberately ignored!"

"Liar!"

"Pacifica, please," Melody said, "will you tell me what's going on? Who are you talking to?"

"She's talking to herself," Shadow Pacifica answered, though Pacifica knew Melody couldn't hear. "She's talking to a manifestation of her mind."

"No! You are not my mind!" Pacifica's hands clenched into fists; the motion pulled at Melody's shirt.

"What else could I be?" said the shade. "A trick from Bill? I'm not. I wondered if I was made by Bill, back when I was Mabel. But no, I was made entirely from your twisted mind. Everything Spirit Mabel said to you was from your own thoughts. Everything I say to you is from your own thoughts. And I say that you're an evil, terrible person who gladly sent an innocent girl to her death. Are you ready to admit that yet?"

Pacifica had no idea how to answer that. She just buried her head in Melody's shirt again. Melody, confused, drew the girl close. She didn't ask any more questions. She just held Pacifica in her arms.

"Looks like you're not ready," Shadow Pacifica said. "Well, we have time. Once the boys rescue Mabel — if they can — they'll bring her back here. And they're going to try to rescue Ford and Lincoln, too. When everybody gets here, you need to be ready to join the Cipher Wheel."

"I won't," Pacifica whispered. But the words felt hollow.

"You will," said the shade, "or else spend the rest of your short, pathetic life in misery." A moment passed in ugly silence. Then Shadow Pacifica said, "I'll leave you now. Cry on Melody's shoulder all you want. But I'll be back, Pacifica, and soon. I refuse to let you die without a full understanding of all the bad things you've done."

Then there was silence. Pacifica didn't dare look up for quite some time; but when she did, she found that Shadow Pacifica was gone. Only Pacifica and Melody were in the room.

"Pacifica?" said Melody quietly. "Can you explain to me what's going on? If you don't want to share, I won't force you. But I want to help you."

Pacifica looked into her eyes. Did she really want to help? Wasn't she keeping Pacifica prisoner here? Wasn't she on the wrong side?

Wasn't Pacifica on the right side? Bill's side?

Melody waited patiently for Pacifica to answer. Finally, "I don't know how to explain," Pacifica said, her voice quiet and broken.

More silence. Melody held Pacifica close.

"Am I. . ." Pacifica hesitated. "Am I evil?"

As soon as the words left her mouth, she winced. Of course Melody thought she was evil. Why was she asking? She shouldn't have said anything.

Melody didn't answer for a long moment. She was probably shocked that Pacifica would ask such an obvious question. But then she opened her mouth, and her response was not what Pacifica was expecting. "No," she said. "You. . . you've done some very hurtful things, Pacifica. But I don't think you're evil."

Pacifica blinked in surprise. "You don't?"

"No. I don't think humans are inherently evil. Even when they do evil things." There was a pause. "I think Bill Cipher is evil, though."

Pacifica felt the urge to roll her eyes, but it was quickly replaced by a sense of shame. Was Bill really evil? Shadow Pacifica certainly seemed to think so. So did Mabel. So did. . . so did Dipper. Could they all be right, and Pacifica wrong?

No. That thought was too terrifying. If Pacifica was wrong, then. . .

She squeezed her eyes shut. "It hurts," she whispered.

"I know," Melody whispered back, although she probably didn't know what "it" was. Or did she? Did Pacifica?

Pacifica didn't know. She didn't know anything anymore. She only wanted to sit here in Melody's arms — because even if Melody wasn't the ideal person, at least she was someone. At least she was willing to hold Pacifica as she cried.

Everything was so confusing. It hurt so much.

Pacifica's tears returned in full force, and she cried there on the couch, wrapped in Melody's arms.