A Taste of Ashes
Chapter 10: Duel in the Dark
"Let's just drop all the woo-woo mystery," Dipper said as soon as the Magick Shop door opened and, hands in his running-shorts pockets, he sauntered inside in what he hoped was a casual manner. "C'mon, I know you're there, you know I'm here. Show yourself."
And as if it had been there all along, in the dimness only a few feet away hung the robe, apparently in mid-air—though Dipper still couldn't be sure the creature wearing it had legs and feet or—just nothing. At any rate, in the uncertain dimness it certainly looked as though it were floating, ghostwise.
"Hey, I think you must've been sick. I mean, you definitely look weaker," Dipper said, peering at what he could see of the creature. "Well, no wonder, staying cooped up in here, y'know. You probably need to get out more. Get a little exercise, watch your diet. I know this great place to eat."
The words, or the thought, came sudden, and cold as a knife of ice: You are starving.
"Nope, don't think so," Dipper said, slapping his stomach with his left hand. "I'll admit I'm eating things that look like live rainbow worms, but they keep me going. Don't taste all that bad, for worms, and one serving gets you through a whole day."
A pause, not a long one, but one that stank of uncertainty, and then the Horroracle said, You lie.
"Never! Lying is against my rules." Dipper sensed not only uncertainty then, but a quality of . . . uneasiness. The Horroracle was unsure and a tad concerned—not much, but maybe enough to give Dipper a little bit of an edge.
He thought perhaps the entity would have something to say, but when it didn't, Dipper went on: "You know, Hor'—I hope you don't mind if I call you Hor' for short, I do it with every ounce of respect you deserve—it occurs to me that if I just left this set of dimensions, just bailed on it, you'd be trapped here. See, I think you're bound to it until your game is over, one way or another."
I see the inevitable fate through to its inevitable end.
"Uh-huh, sure, whatever, dude. But in this case, if I went to another set of dimensions and stayed there for the rest of my life, you'd be stuck in this one, where time isn't moving. And the way I understand it, you need me to ask questions before you start it up again. Can't do it without me, can't choose anyone else. Those are the rules. You'd have the place all to yourself, for all eternity, but you couldn't get into it because time is stopped. You'd be here in the interdimension forever. Nice and quiet. Might be lonely, though."
You are attempting to reason about things you cannot possibly know, and your words are meaningless, since they posit an impossible event.
"Wel-l-l, I suppose you could take up some hobbies. The Sousaphone, maybe, that's relaxing. Or card games. On Earth we have over 2,000 variants of solitaire. That might take up a year or two."
Finally, Dipper felt a definite flare of anger from the Horroracle. Enough! You cannot move to other dimensions. The physics of this dimensionality preclude that! You have no powers. You're merely a human child.
Firmly, Dipper countered, "Wrong! I have been to another dimension since I saw you last. I get water and food there. Oh, and about those visions you showed me. I left a note for Mabel and Wendy, just in case. No matter what happens, they're warned now."
You lie! No such action is possible!
"You can go to my room in the Mystery Shack if you want. Check it out. The note is right there on my bed."
You cannot do anything to alter the future! You cannot affect any changes here or in the material plane! Except for the two of us, I have placed everything in a condition of stasis!
"Go and check it out," Dipper said again.
For the merest half-heartbeat of time the entity flickered. The surroundings vanished, and then they stood in Dipper's bedroom. The Horroracle said, There is no note!
Dipper looked at it. "Sure there is. Right there," he said, indicating it with his left forefinger.
The Horroracle flashed again, and they were back in the Magick Shop.
Dipper realized, It's blind! It has to use my eyes! The Horroracle couldn't see the note until I was looking at it!
"You don't know anything about us," Dipper said. "Only that you want us destroyed. You see now—I did write the note. And take my word for it, I can escape this—dimensionality any time I want!"
The entity was trembling in air with what seemed like barely suppressed fury. How can you?—NO! I retra—
"I'll answer and take Edwin Durland!" Dipper yelled, jerking his hand out of his pocket. He had removed his socks before approaching the Magick Shop, and he wore one over his right hand, with the other folded as a cushion inside it against his palm.
The coin would have knocked the wind out of him if it had struck his chest, where it had been aimed, but he got his hand up just in time and grunted from the impact. The socks reduced the shock—just enough so it did not re-break a bone—but it stung terribly.
He took a great, deep gulp of air and then said, "One of my relatives is a genius, Hor'. He invented a way of traveling between dimensions—and maybe because it's already sort of in between dimensions, it hasn't been affected by your stasis spell or whatever. I can use it anytime. I can walk out on you."
Now the tone of the reply seemed cold again, distant: Then go.
He's calling my bluff. Time for Plan B!
But—there is no Plan B.
"OK. Enjoy your eternity," Dipper said, turning on his heel. He walked through the open door—
—and wound up facing the Horroracle again. It gloated now: You cannot escape if I never let you leave.
"So we'll wind up Eternity Buddies," Dipper said, faking a cocky grin. "And you'll let me die of thirst and hunger, and then—oops, I won back the coins, so nothing happens to the dimensionality. You'll still be on your own, loser."
I will force you to ask a question!
"No, I don't think so." Bill used to be able to read minds, or it seemed like he could. I hope this thing can't see how scared I am. "There's nothing stubborner than a teen-aged human boy. Ask anybody. Oh, right, you can't. So it's just you and me."
The Horroracle swept around him, just out of reach, hovering as it made a complete circle. Dipper turned on his heel to keep facing it. "You don't get anything out of this little hobby of yours," Dipper said. "You gain nothing from destroying worlds and universes. Maybe it's time to retire. You could just stop being the Destroyer. Maybe find something useful to do that will actually get you something."
I get peace, the Horroracle said, heavy words falling into place like spadefuls of earth onto the lid of a coffin.
"No, you get death. You've never had a family, I bet. You've never had a friend. And you never will have. I'd almost feel sorry for you if you hadn't picked me out of the blue to torment."
I do not accept your pity!
Though Dipper couldn't be certain, he thought the entity seemed a little more solid now than it had been. Perhaps a little more bound to whatever was currently passing for reality.
"You're slowly becoming real," Dipper said aloud. "The longer you stay here, the more hooked into this dimension you become. And when you're finally lodged here and can't get away, then I may ask questions. Because then if everything ends, you end, too. No more worlds to conquer."
You are wrong!
"No, I don't think so. Chew on what I said. I'm leaving now—and you can't stop me." Dipper turned again. The door hovered ahead, but it slammed. "Rules," Dipper said mockingly. "I can open doors."
And he did, quite easily.
Dipper knew something for a certainty: He'll follow me now. He's dying to know where my Portal to another dimension is. That stupid door trick he just tried means he wants me to think that I've got away from him, but he'll follow me.
But before heading out of this—image, mock-up, reflection, whatever it was—of Gravity Falls, he walked around the block. There was the police car—but now Deputy Durland was whole and sound, dangling his arm out of the car and gazing out the passenger window with a goofy expression on his face, very life-like except for being without color.
Dipper said, "Lookin' good, Deputy. Lookin' good."
And with just a small quiver of satisfaction, Dipper thought, There—I just felt a tremor in the air. A hostile vibration. A disturbance in the Force!
Well, since the Shack was out—couldn't risk actually leading the entity anywhere too close to the Portal—there was only one place to go, and Dipper headed there. God, give me strength. I've walked so far since all this started! I've probably earned three days off my exercise routine.
But then what he wouldn't give to run with Wendy—even if it was for just one final time, then say goodbye, close the book, let it be over forever. He tried to get that out of his mind, and, convinced that the Horroracle was trailing him, Dipper skirted round the back of the Shack, going through the woods instead of down the drive. Wendy's standing frozen there. And I couldn't help looking at her, and I won't let this thing see her!
He passed the bonfire log and cut through the woods. Before long he stood at the edge of the weedy spot where the Bill effigy stood tilted, hand in the air. Dipper almost smiled at the tiny little hummingbird nest on the top of the ridiculously elongated hat. So small, and like Bill, he couldn't budge it, not in this interdimension. Insignificant, really—but size was just a matter of scale. For all he knew, ten thousand of Bill's molecules might cluster beneath that quarter-sized nest.
Just to screw with the Horroracle—and since he had avidly read the copy of Journal 2 that Blendin Blandin had allowed him to retrieve—Dipper sat on the ground and began to intone "Juh-ah-ssem sdraw-kab," the key to summoning Bill. Typically for Bill, it consisted of repeating the words "backwards message" backwards.
Dipper thought, Yeah! I can feel the Horroracle's interest focusing. It thinks I'm opening a Portal!
Instead, inside his ear he heard a very faint humming voice: "Pine Tree, I can't materialize, or even project myself. You know it's here, don't you? It's invisible to human eyes, but it's spying on you. Just subvocalize to answer. It can't hear you and I can catch the drift."
Keeping his mouth closed and forming the words more in his mind than his mouth—and using only air, as if he were whispering—Dipper replied, "Yes, I know."
"Lure him back to your room, kid. I think I know what you're gonna try, but don't do it until you're sure he's with you. I'm gonna do a ride-along."
"OK."
Dipper closed his eyes and struck what he imagined to be a meditative pose, sitting on the ground, knees bent and ankles crossed, arms held out at his sides, fingers and thumb making an O. Aloud, and completely at random, he recited, "Egbert El, no school so swell, hear us yell for Egbert El! Sassafrassin' hootenanny, rah, rah, rah, scrabdoodle kiss my fanny, hah, hah, hah!"
Then he nodded and said, "Your wise counsel has helped me, honored ancestor. I go now to the place where I can depart this dimension."
He plastered a big smile on his face as he rose and walked back along the trail with a bounce in his step and the jingle of coins in his pocket. He really didn't feel like smiling, though, and each step felt as if he were walking toward his own grave.
Back in the Shack, up the stairs—he wished they would creak the way they always did, but in the interdimension, of course, things were silent. He re-entered the attic room. His eyes were playing tricks on him: For a moment he thought he saw himself, dressed out in his running gear, lying on the bed. Then that hallucination, or whatever it was, passed and there was only the bed with the note on it. Fleetingly, Dipper thought, Wish I'd made up the covers this morning. I ought to try not to be such a slob.
Well, it probably wouldn't matter any longer.
He said aloud, "I know you're there. You might as well manifest if you're here to see me off."
And there was the Horroracle, so concentrated on him that it no longer bothered to shroud itself in gloom. It was only a floating sphere, draped in a deep gray cloak. No legs or feet, no arms or hands. I will prevent you.
"I don't think so. You're really a coward. Taking me as your opponent 'cause I'm just a kid. Cutting me off from any help—or trying to. You're nothing but a bully. I'm about to leave you, Horroracle."
You cannot.
"Oh, yes I can. But first—I have a question. If you fail to answer it, you have to leave this set of dimensions forever."
A ferocious pulse of energy, as if the entity were gloating, but Dipper gave it no chance to speak.
Hoping it would work, Dipper yelled, "I offer—Dipper Pines! My question—WHY?"
Something left him with a jerk, a silvery streak, and the Horroracle burst out in anger, WHY WHAT?
"Fail!" Dipper shouted, feeling his legs folding under him. "No answer!"
The Horroracle imploded.
And Dipper felt all the world fading away as he crumpled to the floor. I beat him. I beat him. And—I think I'm dying.