Breaking the Zodiac
(July 2015)
4: Met by Moonlight
Mabel had started to think that Pacifica wasn't coming after all, but she was the last one to show up—and she was driving, a hot blonde in a hot, brand-new red Miagi convertible. "Pacifica!" Mabel yelled, running up as Paz opened the driver's door. Mabel threw her arms across the convertible's hood. "It's so war-r-rm! How come you driving, girl?"
"Because I turned sixteen yesterday," Pacifica said.
"What?" Mabel asked, her mouth hanging open. "Sixteen? What? You didn't tell us it was your birthday? What? You have a license now? Wha-a-a-at?"
"Well, it never came up and I didn't want a fuss," Pacifica said, stepping out of the car and closing the door. "But, yeah, it's July 17. Do I look all right?"
Mabel grinned. "When don't you?" Pacifica was wearing lavender leggings, a short black skirt, and a soft lavender short-sleeved sweater top. Mabel was in her trademark shooting-star sweater. "You look fabulous!"
Dipper and Wendy had come over, too. "Gucci wheels, Pacifica!" Wendy said. "Birthday present?"
"Yeah, from my folks," Pacifica said, shrugging. "So—are we gonna do the circle thing, or what?"
They started walking around the Shack. "I'm glad you came, Paz," Dipper said.
She smiled at him. "Thanks—Dip!"
"Come on," Mabel said, taking the lead. "Everybody's around back. We're not doing the Ballet Flats death march this time."
The back lawn of the Shack was large and flat enough to accommodate the members of the Zodiac—if they weren't being ultra-super-secret about their gathering, and this time they weren't.
Stanford welcomed Pacifica and said, "All right, that's everyone. We know that somebody is trying to make life difficult for us all by spreading gossip and lies and sowing seeds of distrust in the community. That's a standard tactic of disruption—trying to distract us, to divide and conquer us, as it were. Tonight, we've come to reaffirm our commitment to each other and to see if we can come up with some ways of armoring ourselves against this shadowy foe. Dipper, before we begin, you told me you wanted to say a word."
"Yeah," Dipper said, feeling uncomfortable as all eyes turned toward him. "Um. Well, it might not work, but—OK, most of you know about that time when Wendy and I dived into Moon Trap Pond. What some of you don't know is that ever since then, she and I have been able to communicate, sort of, through touch. It's a kind of telepathy. We tried to teach Mabel how to do it, but it didn't work."
"Yeah," Wendy said, "but she still felt something. And when we weren't really trying, every now and then when we've all three been, like, riding in a car and sitting together, arms sort of touching, you know, Mabel's come up with little flashes like she's reading our minds but not aware that she's doing it."
"Feelings, too," Dipper said.
"No way!" Mabel exclaimed. "Mabel powers! Yes!"
"So," Dipper said, riding over that, "what Wendy and I would like to try tonight is, as we hold hands, we each send out a pulse of, I don't know, psychic energy? Because Soos came up with an outstanding idea."
"Yes!" Soos said. "Another burst of genius from me, Soos! Uh—what was it, dawg?"
Smiling, Dipper said, "You said you wished we could all share our strong points—you know, Ford's intelligence, so on and so forth. Wendy and I are going to try to open us all up so we each get a tiny bit of what the others have. It may not work at all, but it's worth a try."
"If it does work," Ford said, "I don't think it will literally make us share qualities. It won't turn Stan into me, or vice-versa-"
"Thank God," Stan murmured.
Ford ignored him: "But it might give us some deeper understanding of each other—understanding that is impossible for anyone else. A deepened empathy—and yes, it may awaken qualities within us that at least resemble those we admire in each other."
"Y'all, I'm plumb excited about this!" Gideon said.
"I'm not too sure about it myself," Pacifica admitted.
"We're not sharing secrets," Dipper told them all. "Just sort of opening ourselves to understanding qualities and abilities. If it works, it'll make us stronger as a team."
"Yeah, and if it flops, no great loss," Wendy said. "It may not be a win-win, but at least it's a win-no loss."
"We won't bother with the candles this time," Ford said. "Just form up any way you want. The people are what really matter, not the accoutrements, and this isn't a ritual, just a moment of sharing. My brother and I will hold hands."
Dipper found himself between Wendy and Pacifica—and Mabel held Pacifica's other hand, with Gideon on Mabel's right. The others formed up into a circle. Waddles and Widdles came sauntering over to watch, tilting their heads like improbably fat puppies.
A silvery-white crescent moon shone low over the western bluffs. Though the sun hadn't technically set, it had sunk out of sight of the people standing behind the Shack, and purple shadows had spread across most of the Valley. The air held the quiet hush of twilight. The moment the last two of them joined hands, Dipper felt the surge of positive energy.
He squeezed Wendy's hand, and as they had planned, the two began silently to urge everyone to share their best with each other. The pulsation continued, not perceptibly different from what it had been.
Then something unexpected started to happen.
This might have been a mistake, Dipper thought, unsettled as he had the strange sensation of spinning, as if the members of the Zodiac were standing on the periphery of a carousel that had whirled into action and was increasing speed.
They weren't moving, not physically, but that feeling came, as though they revolved around the center.
Something's happening, Wendy thought to him.
—I feel it too. It's making me a little dizzy.
He concentrated. He could hear the others breathing hard, panting almost, and guessed they shared the sensation. And yet—something was missing. It was like climbing the latter way up to the high-dive board, walking out to the end, and freezing, not able to make that dive into space. The exhilarating moment waited, he felt ready, but somehow he could not bring himself to leap off.
We're close, Dip! Tighten your grip!
He did, felt Pacifica's hand tighten on his, too, and sensed that everyone was doing the same thing, right from him, left from Wendy, all around the circle. Come on, come on, let it happen—
PINE TREE! RED! NEED A LITTLE PUSH? HERE YOU GO—BEST I CAN DO UNDER THE CIRCUMSTANCES!
—Bill?
From somewhere in Dipper's chest a burst of energy—invisible, so why did he think of it as yellow?—flashed out jolted each of his hands and ran from one to the other around the Zodiac.
For a heartbeat that stretched as though it went on for hours, Dipper felt them—Wendy was inside his mind, and Pacifica, and Mabel, Gideon, Fiddleford, Stan, Ford, Teek, Soos—for that eternal, fleeting instant he felt as if he knew them all, held them all in his heart as well as his mind—
It was too strong to last.
It passed, and in a shaky voice, Ford said, "I—I think we can let go now."
The instant they did, Dipper, Mabel, Wendy, and Pacifica clustered together in a group hug. "I didn't know!" Pacifica said, laughing and crying at the same time. "I thought you were just being nice to me! I didn't know you really liked me!"
"We love you, Pacifica!" Mabel said.
Teek joined them and hugged Mabel. "Mabel, thanks for being you! Guys, that—whoosh! I've always been real private, but—man!"
"I know, right?" Wendy said. "Oof!"
"Soos hug!" Soos yelled, embracing practically the whole bunch of them. "Dawgs, that totally blew my mind! Boosh! Dipper! I think I can play the guitar now!"
Fiddleford didn't hug but put his hand on Dipper's shoulder. "I feel rejuvenated," he said. "Thank you, young people, for that. My mind feels clearer than it has in years."
"Your enunciation is better too, ya old weirdo," Stan said, laughing. "Hoo-ee, Gideon, that was plumb upliftin', am I right?"
"Stanley," Gideon said, his voice quavering, "now I feel worse than ever about all that hooraw between us. I was eat up by ambition and just never understood back then how much you love your family."
And Ford added, "I was deeply moved."
They piled on him, laughing, and discovered that ticklishness was a Pines family trait.
It took ten minutes for them all to calm down. "I believe we succeeded, Dipper," Ford said. "Thank you for that."
"I'm never gonna doubt myself again," Pacifica promised. "No matter what happens, now I know what it means to have true friends."
"Means I want a ride in your car!" Mabel said. "With the top down! Yes!"
"You'll need an adult along," Stan said. "She ain't sixteen and a half yet. So, I volunteer."
"It's all coming together," Mabel announced, rubbing her hands like a master of intrigue.
"There goes the moon," Soos murmured. The silver sickle had descended to touch the bluffs off to the west. Stars were coming out in the darkening sky.
They all turned to look, and that was why they all saw the figure at the same time. It came from the forest and the gathering darkness. Waddles and Widdles seemed to sense it first—they came over to stand on either side of Mabel, either to protect her or to ask for her protection.
"What is that?" Pacifica asked, squinting into the shadows.
"A fox," Ford said.
"Russ," Mabel whispered.
Russ was, or had been, a foxen, a skin-changer something like a werewolf, except he could choose to be either human or fox—until he died in his human form. He had been reborn as a fox cub no longer capable of making the change, but in the short time he had known Mabel when he was human, he had fallen in love with her.
The small fox was not alone. It did not come close but lingered on the edge of the lawn. Behind it crept another figure in a painful, lurching crawl, hard to see, blending almost with the gathering darkness. Dipper thought it was another fox at first, but no, it was larger—
The fox bowed toward them—like a dog, forefeet stretched out, chest touching the ground—then turned and retreated. The gray creature crept forward.
"What is that?" Wendy asked.
"Wolf," Dipper said. "I think it's badly hurt."
"Hello!" Ford called. "Do you need help?"
The figure stopped, paused as if gathering strength, then rose to its hind legs and changed.
"Oh, my God!" Pacifica shouted.
"Werewolf," Stan said.
They all started forward.
"Soos," Wendy said, "There's a—"
"Blanket in your car," Soos finished. "I'll get it."
"Mabel, Paz—"
"We'll help Wendy," Pacifica said. "You guys, don't look. I don't think she wants to be stared at while she's naked."
Dipper couldn't look away—he was too worried about his sister and his Lumberjack Girl, and yes, Pacifica too—but he didn't stare at the swaying figure of the woman, didn't focus on her. She looked wounded, injured, and weak. Trembling, she tried to cover herself with her hands and arms, but then Wendy was close to her, speaking to her.
The woman's head did not rise. She seemed to be fighting to keep her balance. Soos came back with the plaid blanket and tossed it to Pacifica. Wendy took it from her and draped it around the figure's shoulders. "Come on," Dipper heard her say softly. "Don't be afraid. We'll help you. We're going inside."
The woman murmured something.
"He's here," Pacifica said. "Gideon, come and help."
They took her into the Shack and into the light. Dipper's immediate thought was She's dying.
The blanket covered her body, but her face had been savagely torn. Blood clotted her eye sockets. She was blind. It looked as though someone had slashed her throat, though the jagged wound had closed and clotted.
Ford had her lie on the sofa. She again murmured Gideon's name, and he came and after only momentary hesitation, he held her thin hand and leaned down to listen to what she was saying.
Dipper saw him twitch in surprise. Then, not dropping the woman's hand, he said, "Everybody! This is Ulva's mama! We gotta help her!"
"I'll call the doctor!" Dipper said.
Ford stopped him, gripping his shoulder. "Don't. She's a lycan, Dipper. She'll heal on her own."
"But—she's so weak—"
"Whoever did this to her undoubtedly believes she's dead," Ford told him. "But there are very few ways to kill a lycan. If she's still capable of shape-shifting, which she obviously is, then she will heal. It just takes time—time and pain."
"I'm callin' my daddy," Gideon said. "He'll drive Ulva over!"
"Do that," Stan said. "Ma'am? You're Ulva's mama, right?"
"Yesss." The woman's voice made Dipper shiver. Air hissed not only from her mouth, but from the not completely closed slit in her throat.
"She'll be here in a few minutes," Stan said.
"I tried . . . to . . . ssssave . . . you . . .."
"From what?" Ford asked.
"The night . . . you made . . . the . . . circle of . . . . lights. Sssomeone . . . ssspied on you . . . bit him . . . he injured me . . . with magic."
"You bit him?" Ford asked. "You—you turned him into a werewolf?"
She rolled her head on the sofa arm. "He . . . hasss . . . died. Killed . . . by . . . hissss . . . massster . . . before the change . . . could happen."
"That circle happened two weeks ago," Wendy said. "You've been hurt for that long? How did you get here?"
"Crawled," the woman said, pain edging her voice and making Dipper feel something of that miles-long agony. Then Melody and Abuelita came in with a basin of hot water and an armload of towels and shooed all the men and boys out.
They clustered in the snack bar adjoining the gift shop. No one felt like talking. A few minutes passed, and then Bud Gleeful led Ulva in, the wolf-girl dressed in shorts, a loose top, and moccasins. Dipper always thought she looked like a vulnerable puppy, and that night she looked like a frightened one. "Where is she at?" Bud asked, his voice hushed, like someone in a funeral parlor.
Pacifica, some drying blood smeared on her arms and hands, came to the doorway. "Your mom's in here," she said, smiling.
Ulva stepped hesitantly toward her, paused, hugged Gideon, and then rushed to Pacifica. She ushered Ulva into the parlor.
A moment later, Dipper and the others heard a heart-breaking, shuddering howl. Gideon collapsed into a chair and burst into tears and his dad sat next to him, an arm around the teen's shoulders.
"Great-Uncle Ford?" Dipper asked. "Will she—really—I mean, you said—"
"She will heal, Dipper," Ford insisted firmly. "Faster now that she's found her daughter, but it will still be a matter of months. I think she'll even get her eyes back. Lycans have an astonishing power of recovery, and I'll try to research to find out what we can do to help her. But the man who did this to her—"
"He's gonna be damn sorry," Stan growled.
"He's dead, Stanley."
"I didn't mean the bastard that died," Stan said. "I mean the bastard who sent him."
Dipper heard himself say, "He doesn't really have a name. But you can call him el Brujo."
Where did that come from?
"El Brujo?" Ford asked. "How did you know that, Dipper?"
And again, a voice that came from him but didn't seem to be his own: "Oh, I know lots of things, Sixer. Lots of things!"