Hello! I'm happy to see you! Whew! This is a crazy chapter! Super long, and it has a lot happening. I hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb.


CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT:

Survivors


Ferb was dreaming about his home. He was standing beside his father. Lawrence was an inch shorter than Ferb now, which had always felt strange to him. On the other side of his dad was Jeremiad.

"Should have seen her brain him," Jeremiad said. His face was streaked with dirt, but the grime was overpowered by his smile. "I tell you, she doesn't let anyone mess with her."

"That is why you married her, I suppose," Lawrence offered genially, and Jeremiad let out a quiet laugh.

"Oh yeah. Candavere's something, alright." Then Jeremiad sighed. "Although, I wish she wouldn't have to be. Fighting off some man in the market? You know he had to be working for—"

"Yes, yes," Lawrence said, taking Jeremiad's arm and pulling him on. As his dad glanced around, Ferb noticed their surroundings for the first time. It was a small street in the northern outskirts of Danvillage. There weren't many people around, but Lawrence was obviously afraid of being overheard.

"Right," Jeremiad said, shaking his head. "I just—what if she hadn't been able to…" He paused. "What if she wasn't—What if they'd—" Ferb noticed Jeremiad's hands were trembling. His whole body was. "I really don't…"

Lawrence stopped, and the two men turned toward each other. Ferb knew Lawrence had never been very communicative, but his father's expression spoke a hundred different things.

"Candavere has always been able to handle herself," Lawrence said. He took Jeremiad's shoulder. "And for what it's worth, lad, I know you can take care of her, too."

"With all that's happened, I… I don't know," Jeremiad said. He ran a hand over his face, which marked it with even more dirt. "I can't lose her."

"No one is immune to fear, my boy," Lawrence hummed. He smiled, but there was something sad in it. It was a smile Ferb thought he would only understand if he were a father.

To Ferb's surprise, Jeremiad started shaking his head. Ferb had never seen Jeremiad as anything but calm, content, and collected. Now there was something uncertain in his eyes, something unhinged by constant worry.

"I can't protect her from… from all of this," Jeremiad rushed out. "I feel like there's guys working for him everywhere, and I'm not—" He laughed sharply. "I'm not exactly a fighter, Lawrence. Candavere did better than I ever could when she nailed that man with a frying pan earlier."

"Protection comes in many forms," Lawrence said, but he sounded less certain now. Jeremiad nodded in understanding.

"She hasn't stopped crying, has she," Jeremiad said. Instinctively, Ferb knew Jeremiad was talking about Phineas' and his mother now. Even in a dream, Ferb could picture Lindavahle on that hay bale, sobbing into her dirty skirt.

Lawrence sighed. "Of course we're all worried about the boys. As well as our current… situation."

"We just don't all have the luxury to fall apart," Jeremiad concluded.

Lawrence nodded. He looked so tired, Ferb noticed, which made him wish this wasn't a dream. Ferb wanted to be there with his father. He didn't know what he would say, but he just wanted to touch him, to put a hand on Lawrence's shoulder and look him in the eyes, and be seen in return. He wanted to protect them.

Jeremiad tensed. "Don't look behind you," he said, the words coming out in a hiss so quiet Ferb barely heard it. "Four, in a group."

"Another?" Lawrence asked. "We haven't even gotten food yet." But they were already turning to head in the opposite direction. Ferb looked behind them, and saw a group of four men. They didn't look too out of the ordinary, except for the swords hooked to their belt. They wore the same dark green cloaks most of Rogerick's men wore.

"Food won't matter if we're killed," Jeremiad said. They were walking quickly, but not so much so as to draw attention to themselves. Still, one of the men yelled, and Ferb saw them point in his father's direction.

"Run!" Ferb yelled to his father, and almost as if he could hear him, Lawrence ran. Jeremiad and Lawrence tore down the street. Ferb could hear Rogerick's men initiate chase behind him.

Ferb ran after his dad, but everything in his dream slowed. It was like he was moving through a swamp. Everything started blurring together into shades of blue and green and brown. Only his father's back was still clear, and Ferb reached out, trying to close that distance. He screamed, but no sound came from his mouth. He could only feel his dream crumble as his father got farther and farther away.

And then Ferb woke up. Sunlight filled the barn, and Phineas was leaning over him, a guilty look on his face.

"I feel bad waking you, bro," Phineas said, "but it's morning, and a bright one at that!"

Ferb sat up slowly, to find Bufavalous and Isabel already wide awake. They were sitting around something—something Ferb couldn't quite see properly. He got to his knees and shuffled over to the other two. In between them was a basket with—my god, Ferb couldn't believe it. Warm eggs, and ham, and fresh bread with melting cream.

"So I kind of fell asleep during my shift," Phineas admitted. He'd had the last shift of the night, the one that carried them into morning. "It wasn't for long, I don't think, and I didn't mean to, but when I woke up, this was here."

Poison? was Ferb's first thought, which was a sad testament to the stress their lives had been for—a week? No, it was definitely a lot more than that. Two? Even more? Ferb couldn't believe he didn't quite remember. Of course he was able to remember his family, his home, and everything else back in Danvillage, but it felt like a century ago that he'd had that life. It almost felt like a dream, like something that didn't belong to him anymore.

But then of course Ferb remembered his dream, seeing his dad and Jeremiad, and that group of Rogerick's men that pursued them in that marketplace. It was more than enough to ground him in the realities of his old life. So much was happening back home.

The food must not have been poison, because Bufavalous mumbled, "Owner here has always been well off," through a mouthful of ham.

Isabel had some bread with cream in her hands, but she looked sad. She kept glancing gloomily over at Baljeetolus, then to the bread like it had done her some great injustice.

"Bit surprised they left it here, though," Bufavalous continued His mouth was clear for another bite, which he promptly took. "All things considered. Not that I'm complaining."

"Do you realize how cryptic you've been about staying here?" Phineas asked dryly. He'd sat beside Ferb and taken some of the eggs. Steam wafted from them, and the sight was so unfamiliar and enticing to Ferb after so long away from home that it made his mouth water. He hastily helped himself to some of the food.

"Do you realize how you ask too many questions?" Bufavalous shot right back.

Thankfully, things didn't progress any further from there; they were all too busy stuffing their faces with a warm, delicious breakfast. Ferb loved their mom, but Lindavahle sometimes got… experimental with some of her cooking. That often left her meals less than appetizing. And of course he was thankful for food regardless—but this food was something else. It was somehow different, rich with spices he'd never tasted before. As a testament to how good it was, none of them spoke until they'd devoured their fill.

"There's even enough to pack," Phineas said, taking two leftover bread rolls and wrapping them in the cloth from the roasted quail from the day before. The corner of his mouth pulled up into a crooked smile. "You know you've been on the road too long when a basic warm meal feels like a feast, am I right?"

"Mm hmm," Isabel sighed. Her eyes were closed, and she was breathing slowly. With a full stomach, Ferb thought she should be careful, or she'd end up falling asleep.

Bufavalous opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Phineas said, "I know, I know. We've got to keep moving, 'ain't no time to dawdle,' yadda yadda."

Isabel giggled before covering her mouth, but Bufavalous didn't look peeved. He only lifted an eyebrow. Then he reached for something at his belt, and Phineas froze. But Bufavalous only fetched his water pouch, which he threw at the alchemist.

"There's a well between here and the main house. Straight there and back," Bufavalous said. He nodded at Ferb, who undid the water pouch hooked to his belt. Ferb held that out to his brother, too, while the brute said, "Thanks for volunteering, Pointy."

Phineas blinked from Bufavalous to the water pouches to Bufavalous again. "Isn't that stealing?"

Bufavalous let out a long, frustrated sigh. Or maybe it was a growl. Phineas wasn't quite sure. "Don't make me pummel you."

Phineas didn't know if that was a joke or not, so he got to his feet. He fastened the hooks on his satchel before picking up the water pouches. He didn't want to push his luck with antagonizing Bufavalous, so Phineas slid from the barn without another word. Not that he thought Ferb would ever let Bufavalous lay a finger on him, but still, Phineas would prefer to keep the peace.

Bufavalous kept pulling through for them, after all. Phineas thought it was important to remember that. The brute took down meatlings, led a civil war, and cared for the refugees. Most recently, he'd expertly treated burns, carried their injured friend on his back for two days straight without a word of complaint, and been the first to register the Gnorme threat. Most poignantly, Phineas saw the image of Bufavalous at the refugee camp, a horde of children screaming with laughter, wrapped around the brute's legs as he hefted them all toward the central fire.

Phineas had to stop as he trekked through the tall grass between the barn and well, thinking about that. For a minute, he wished he didn't feel the need to contradict Bufavalous so much. He definitely wasn't what Phineas knew or expected of him, being the battle-hardened warrior he was. He was so gentle as he applied burn salve, or inspected Isabel's leg. Not to mention Bufavalous had found them that barn to stay in.

With a sigh, Phineas looked between the barn and the well. There was a decent sized farmhouse a short ways beyond the well, in the opposite direction. It was a strange house. It took Phineas a minute to realize why: parts of the walls and roof were mismatched. Some sections looked like wood chopped and shaved in recent years; others looked to be stone worn over decades. The barn hadn't been that way.

It wasn't wise to look a gift horse in the mouth, though. At least, that'd what Phineas thought Bufavalous would say. Shelter was shelter.

Phineas felt a small pang of guilt at thinking that. He was taking advantage of someone else's resources, after all, without compensation. That wasn't right. But also, desperate times called for desperate measures. It left him in quite the quandary.

Maybe that was what made Phineas most uncomfortable of all: not being certain. Things were hardly ever a dilemma for him, especially when it came to internal decisions, and right and wrong. It had always been as clear for him as the nose on his face. Then you throw survival in there, and everything goes haywire.

Bufavalous had definitely proved himself more than comfortable with taking advantage of other people in the name of "survival," and yet he also seemed confident that it really wasn't an issue to take water from the well. Phineas just wasn't sure.

He reached the structure, a deep hole in the ground surrounded by stones, which rose to his hips. It was a simple well, with a hook up top to guide a rope instead of a complete pulley system. The well was pretty full, considering the rain from the night before. He lowered down a bucket, and in a few minutes, their water satchels were filled. He dumped the remaining water back into the well and set the bucket down.

It's only water, he told himself as he turned to leave. It's just water, an abundant commodity. Just water. But he couldn't. He hadn't even made it five steps before he turned back around. He took his last two coins from his satchel and dropped them into the bucket, hoping whoever owned the farm would see them, and that it was enough, especially considering the food they'd woken up to. And the lodging. Phineas suddenly wished he had more coins, and he began digging through his satchel again, hoping he was wrong that the two had been his last.

"You do not need to bother," a voice said, and Phineas jumped. Turning on his heel, he saw a girl not six feet from him. She had deep brown eyes and dark, long hair pulled up messily atop her head. She was still wearing her nightclothes, a soft orange gown. Phineas' eyes were immediately drawn to her shoulder. Scarred, red skin peeked out from the collar, a much harsher color than the bronze that surrounded it. She was barefoot, and when she wasn't speaking, her fingers fidgeted with a basket in her hands.

"Were you the one who left us breakfast this morning?" Phineas asked, and the girl nodded. He knew he should thank her, but "It was amazing," came out of his mouth instead.

"You are not the first travelers we have fed," the girl said, brushing some stray black hairs behind her ear. She had an accent he couldn't identify, with inflections on words he wasn't used to. And her voice was incredibly rich and smooth.

"I'm sorry we—we just crashed in your barn. I know we didn't have any right to. I left some—" He began to gesture down to the gold in the bucket, but the girl cut him off with a smile. She shook her head.

"You are not the first travelers we have provided a bed, either. You are welcome here." She bent down and plucked a few of the flowers at her feet, which she placed in her basket. "You should not stay for too long, though. I'm sure Malifishmirtz will be looking for you, and we can't afford any trouble here."

Phineas blinked at her. "How did you—"

"Oh, you all have adventurers written all over you," she said, and she had a strange gleam in her eyes, one that Phineas couldn't quite place. "Your worn shoes, your dirty faces. You wear the road on you. And then of course there's your injuries…"

"Right," Phineas said slowly, but she wasn't finished.

"You're different than most," she decided. "You have this look to you, something that makes me think you have a home to go back to. You should count yourself lucky, since not everyone does. The smelly one with the ax, for example. Or the injured elf."

"How could you possibly know that?" Phineas asked, bewildered. Then a thought occurred to him. "Are you an Auracle?" he blurted out. "You know, a nymph that can see stuff?"

To his surprise, the girl laughed. It was a wonderful sound, something he was sure caught everyone's attention. She quickly quieted down, though.

"No, I am not an Auracle. I am observant, but truth be told, I cheated just a little. Your friends will be waiting for you, though, and as I said, you should be gone before Malifishmirtz looks for you here."

"Right," Phineas said. Then he took a few steps toward the girl and held out his hand. "But first, I'm Phineas."

She took his hand, and with a quick shake, she said, "Nice to meet you."

Phineas waited for her to introduce herself, too, but after an awkward twenty seconds of staring at her, he realized that wouldn't come. He didn't want to overstay his welcome, so he finally said, "Um, well please accept my coins." He nodded his head toward the well again. "It's the least I can do."

The girl was staring into her basket. She didn't say anything. Phineas took that as a suggestion to leave. He gathered up the water pouches, but as soon as his back was turned, she blurted out, "Will the injured boy be alright?"

Phineas turned back to her, watching as she wrung the handle of her basket in her hands. "Huh?"

"Baljeetolus," she said. "Is he going to be okay?"

"I hope so," Phineas sighed. He was about to continue on his way, when he suddenly froze and stared at the girl. "You know him?"

Instead of answering, the girl asked, "What happened to him?"

"Burned," Phineas replied slowly, watching her face. A tear slid down her cheek at the word, but she nodded. Because it didn't feel like enough, he added, "He was trying to protect his friend, you know. That's how he got hurt."

At this, she smiled, but tears were rolling freely down her face, steady and silent. "That sounds about right."

They stared at each other for a moment more, before she tilted her head back toward the barn, wordlessly telling him to go on. Phineas hesitantly started towards it, but it just didn't feel right leaving the girl like that. Not when it finally made sense—the scar at her shoulder, the mismatching house, like parts of it had been rebuilt, the way she said Baljeetolus' name—and he understood.

It wasn't his place to say anything. It definitely wasn't his place. But he couldn't help himself. He stopped.

"Hey Mishti?" Phineas said as he turned around, and the girl's face lit with surprise at her name.

"Yes?"

Phineas deliberated, pleased his guess had been correct, but unsure of what he could or should say. He finally settled on a question, one that seemed to be the best route.

"Is there anything you want me to tell him?" he asked. "When he wakes up, I mean?"

Mishti looked as thought the very notion startled her. Then she sniffed and wiped under her eyes, her gaze falling to the ground. She didn't respond, but Phineas was patient. He waited. After some time, she pulled something from the bottom of her basket, jostling all the flowers that filled it. It was a small square of cloth, maybe a handkerchief. She stepped forward and pressed it into Phineas' hand.

"Give him this," she said, gazing up at him with a new brightness in her eyes, "and tell the little prat if he wants to know what I mean by it, then he better gather the courage to come back here and ask me himself."

Phineas looked down at the cloth in his hands before laughing and saying, "I think I can do that. I'll even call him a prat, if you want."

She smiled at this, but said, "You better get going… Phineas, right?"

"Right," he grinned. "Phineas Flynn."

"Well, look after him, Phineas Flynn," she said softly.

He nodded and turned back to the barn. After a couple steps, he called, "Oh, and thanks for the breakfast!" over his shoulder, but Mishti was already some distance away. She didn't look back, even though Phineas was sure she'd heard him. He thought maybe this was her way of saying no thanks was needed. That's what Phineas hoped, at least.

Phineas let out his breath and smiled, before turning to head back to the barn. He tucked the bit of cloth Mishti gave him into his satchel. He could see how the elf could have fallen for that girl. Just a few minutes, and Phineas could tell she was the type of person he'd like to get to know. He didn't have the ability to think on it long, though, because he nearly dropped the water pouches from sheer clumsiness as he reopened the barn door.

"Took you long enough," Bufavalous barked as soon as Phineas was inside. The brute was leaning over Baljeetolus.

"Jeet alright?" Phineas asked, ignoring the criticism. He passed the water pouches around to their respective owners.

"He stirred a little while you were gone," Isabel answered, stretching up on her toes. "I even got a little water down his throat," she said proudly. "Only a little, but still."

Phineas raised his eyebrows, looking at the elf, but Bufavalous quickly said, "He didn't actually wake up. He's out like a snuffed candle."

"Still," Phineas exhaled, "water's good. Will he stay under for the last stretch to Thryth?"

Bufavalous looked back down to Baljeetolus. The back of his hand rested on the elf's forehead, like he was testing for a fever. "I changed his wrapping last night during my shift," he said. "Put some more salve on. He's looking pretty good. Impossibly good, even. But I still think he ain't waking up before we make it to Thryth. It'll only take a little more than half the day to make it."

"And our potion should keep him asleep for at least another full day," Phineas said. "But I'll admit I'm surprised he stirred."

Phineas figured it was probably best for Baljeetolus to stay knocked out for as long as possible. He knew Bufavalous said elves handled pain differently. Maybe that meant his potions would react differently for Baljeetolus, too. With the magic exploding out of Isabel (and her enduring tendency to trip or stumble upon occasion), it was hard for Phineas to forget that Isabel was a fairy. Baljeetolus, on the other hand… well, Phineas sometimes had to remind himself that Baljeetolus wasn't actually a human. Not technically.

Which of course didn't matter, Phineas knew. He almost felt guilty for making such a distinction, but he thought that was just this place getting to him. Bufavalous had said Mishti's father had had a problem with Baljeetolus because he was an elf, after all. Phineas saw no problem with it. He didn't see what was so different between him and Baljeetolus.

For the first time, Phineas thought about all of this as it applied to his older brother. Back on the day when the fog had rolled in, Phineas had been struck dumb by the panic on Ferb's face as he cupped the dying Isabel in his hands. When Ferb told him the whole story on their way to Lake Avalos, Phineas realized how deep the connection was between the two, and all he could think was: but she's a sprite.

Now Isabel was the size of a human. That made it pretty easy to think of her as human, despite the magic. It never occurred to him that there could be any more possible issues there—not after the most blaring matter of size was solved. What if there was more to it? Mishti's father must have had some reason to split her and Baljeetolus up. Was there any justification for that between Ferb and Isabel, too? Phineas knew it was none of his business—nor was it a topic he was particularly comfortable with—but it got him thinking.

Then Phineas realized something.

"Where's Ferb?" he asked. "And Perrible?"

Isabel blinked and looked around. "I don't know." At Phineas' incredulous expression, she said, "I thought they where with you?"

Phineas' jaw dropped for a second before he managed to say, "Um, no. No, they're not."

Isabel's face went blank. She looked around the barn as if Ferb and Perrible were hiding behind a hay bale and would pop out at any second.

"You lost them?" Phineas couldn't help but laugh.

Shadows rose along the far wall of the barn. As if on cue, Perrible walked in, Ferb trailing just behind him.

"Where were you? Phineas asked right away.

Ferb hesitated, no doubt taken aback by everyone staring at him. He looked down at Perrible, who gestured at the others like he was telling Ferb he had the floor. Which he did, since dragonpi couldn't talk. Ferb licked his lips. Then he nodded at their pet significantly.

"You were talking?" Phineas translated. Ferb didn't need to nod. Something shifted subtly in his brother's eyes, and Phineas knew Ferb well enough to read even the smallest changes in his demeanor. "About a dream? Did you have another?"

This time, Ferb nodded. He looked down at his feet, and Phineas asked, "Was it about home again?" Just like before, Phineas didn't need Ferb to respond. He could tell from the sag of Ferb's shoulders.

"Oh no," Isabel breathed. Since Perrible confirmed what Ferb had seen the night before, the fairy no longer argued about the validity of Ferb's strange ability. "Are they alright?"

Ferb cringed, and Phineas suddenly felt like his stomach was trying to break free from his throat. Isabel stepped forward and took his hand, and Phineas was happy just to have something to hold onto. There were a dozen things he wanted to say, but he couldn't; he could only stare, panicked, at his older brother.

Ferb shook his head, his expression reading: they're alive.

"I think you need to tell us what's going on, Ferb" Isabel said as she pulled Phineas into a hug. Phineas accepted it, exhaling his apprehension into her shoulder. "Maybe start from the beginning," she suggested to Ferb over Phineas' shoulder.

Before Ferb could speak, however, Bufavalous said, "Or maybe we can start from the beginning on the road."

Phineas didn't care, so long as he got to hear about how his family was doing, but Ferb glanced down at Perrible again. He almost looked… guilty?

"What's going on?" Phineas asked, taking a step toward his brother. "What's with that look?"

"We need to speak here," Ferb sighed. "Not on the road."

"Alright," Phineas said. "Why?"

"This is the part you won't like." Ferb exhaled slowly. He took a long time before he looked from his feet to Phineas and said, "Perrible won't be coming with us."

He looked like he was going to continue, but Phineas couldn't hold back his, "What?"

"From this point forward, he will be traveling in the opposite direction," Ferb continued evenly, but Phineas had already shifted to the dragonpus, who was standing with his hands clasped by Ferb's leg.

"You just got here," he told Perrible, crossing the barn. Phineas knelt and took his pet's shoulders. "You just found us! What does he mean you're leaving? You can't leave."

Perrible let out a low, sad growl—a regretful agreement with Ferb, Phineas realized. He looked back to his older brother, mostly because looking up made it easier not to cry. He felt dangerously close to that.

Ferb was obviously uncomfortable, but he told them everything. Phineas was relieved to hear their dad was alright; he'd been missing in Ferb's dream from before. The news about Jeremiad was disturbing, though. Jeremiad was cool, and Phineas had always liked him. He couldn't stand the thought that the stress was getting to his brother-in-law, or that his dad had been chased by a group of Rogerick's men.

Then Ferb got to the heart of the topic: "I asked Perrible to go back to Danvillage."

Phineas felt like he'd been struck by lightning. Every ounce of him tingled, at once tense and numb, but it wasn't out of surprise. It was because Phineas knew, with absolute certainty, that Ferb was right. And he hated it.

"To find mom and dad," Phineas said. He was staring blankly at the barn wall now. "And Candavere, and Jeremiad, and Amana. To protect them from Rogerick's men."

Ferb was nodding.

"Okay," Phineas agreed. "But why can't he travel with us further? Once we reach Thryth, we'll be traveling north, right? So Perrible can travel north with us, then head back east. He'd just be traveling east through the south, then back north again to Danvillage if he retraced our path. Why doesn't he just travel with us?" Phineas looked back at Perrible. "He can't leave. Not yet."

Ferb sighed, and Phineas could easily tell what it meant: yes, his brother had considered this, but it didn't make a difference. Perrible and their group would split ways.

"Why not?" Phineas asked. "Why does he have to head back through the south instead of traveling a bit further with us?"

Even as he said it, though, Phineas understood Ferb's logic. It all made so much sense. It made so much sense, in fact, that Phineas wanted to bang his head against something out of how completely unfair it was, because of course, of course Perrible had to go back through the south. Phineas knew Ferb could tell he had put it together on his own, so the older brother said nothing.

Finally, Isabel said, "Well, why not?"

Phineas had nearly forgotten the others were there. He turned back toward them. He was almost surprised to see them exactly as they'd been before—Bufavalous sitting with Baljeetolus and Isabel standing where Phineas had left her—because everything seemed so different from how it had been just minutes before.

"The refugees," Phineas said. "If Perrible heads back through the south, he can check on them at the G.W.C.A. headquarters on his way to Danvillage. Any stragglers left in the south can be taken to the shelter, too. It—" Phineas looked down at his lap. "It's the best option for a lot of people."

Phineas' hands tightened around Perrible's, and the dragonpus gurgled affectionately. No one else spoke, each sensing it wasn't the best time to intervene on Phineas' behalf. Even when Phineas sniffled a few times, and his shoulders began to tremble, no one said a word. But when the redhead finally looked up, he had a smile on his face. In the truest testament to all things Phineas, it wasn't even forced.

"It's what's best for a lot of people, buddy," he told Perrible. "And that's pretty incredible."

Perrible surged forward, hugging Phineas, and growled in agreement. After a moment, Phineas beckoned to Ferb, and the older Flynn-Fletcher joined in the family hug.

Phineas allowed himself to breathe in Perrible's fur for a minute. Then he knew he couldn't afford the luxury any longer. He pulled back and stood.

"And I guess we have to keep moving, huh?" Phineas asked no one in particular. He knew the answer, so no one bothered giving a response. He met Perrible's deep brown eyes, and saw his own sadness reflected there. But Phineas also liked to think he saw other things reflected there, too—determination to protect their family, pride, and a fierce, fierce love.

Ferb took his place next to Phineas, and turned to face Perrible, too. Behind them, Phineas heard their other friends preparing to get back on the road, but he kept his attention on their pet.

Perrible pulled his hands free and looked around. Phineas wasn't sure what his pet was doing until Perrible found the stick he'd used to write the night before, and picked it up. Phineas leaned forward in anticipation. Maybe he could get some closure if Perrible wrote out a proper goodbye, or an agreement to Ferb's words, or something.

Perrible wrote two words: Find Adrian.

"Adrian?" Isabel asked from over the boys' shoulders. "Who's Adrian?"

"I don't know," Phineas said. He looked back to Bufavalous, who was standing with Baljeetolus on his back by the door. The brute seemed to know absolutely everyone in the Tri-Kingdom Area. Bufavalous shrugged.

"Is he someone in Thryth?" Isabel suggested, and Perrible growled in approval.

"But who is he?" Phineas asked.

Perrible shook his head, then pointed to Ferb. Phineas thought maybe that meant Ferb was supposed to know? But his older brother looked just as confused as Phineas felt.

"Okay?" Phineas said slowly. "So you want us to find some man named Adrian?"

"Or woman," Isabel chirped.

"Or woman," Phineas agreed, though he was still watching Perrible. "And he—or she—lives in Thryth."

Perrible nodded. After that, they all fell silent again. Phineas knew what that meant: it was too close to the time where they'd have to split ways. Just the thought made Phineas feel like he, himself, was splitting.

But Phineas couldn't deny that this made sense. He thought of Perrible possibly helping Melissa. That gave him the strength to reach out and clasp Perrible's hand—but this time, not out of desperation or confusion. This was out of respect. And it was a farewell.

He took a deep breath, then smiled. "Take care of them, buddy. I love you."


"So you didn't have any dreams the night before last?" Isabel asked Ferb. She'd been hovering close to him since Ferb had told them about what he'd seen, like someone would stick near another they feared would faint.

Ferb shook his head and held up two fingers: there were only two.

"But why?" Phineas asked, his hand rubbing his chin as he thought. The alchemist's eyes were a little red, but that was the only reminder that Perrible had even met up with them in the first place.

Ferb shrugged.

"I ain't a fan of all this goddamn hocus pocus," Bufavalous grumbled. "Never liked magic. Never done any good for anybody!" He kept muttering irritably under his breath about magic, but Isabel couldn't really make any of it out, since Bufavalous was walking in front of them.

After some time, Ferb let out a sigh. "I've been thinking," he began slowly. At everyone's surprised expressions, he furrowed his brow: it's nothing critical.

"Okay?" Isabel prompted.

Ferb didn't exactly feel encouraged, but he continued anyway. "Do you remember that day we were training with my sword, when I left the group?"

Phineas scrunched his nose in thought. "You mean when you we were taking turns fighting Byoof, and you saw Isabel's bruise, and freaked out?"

Ferb glowered like, thanks for putting it that way, but he nodded his head. Isabel perked up, like she caught on to his thought.

"You said Vanessa came and spoke to you, when you were in the woods," she said. Then her voice grew a little concerned, or maybe suspicious—Ferb couldn't quite tell tell. "But you said she didn't say much. You said she just encouraged you, or something. You never said—"

Ferb quickly raised his hands, his expression saying, and I didn't lie! While the others waited, he cleared his throat. He licked his lips, and then said, "I know. But some of the things she said make quite a bit more sense now."

"Like what?" Phineas asked.

"Like not worrying about what I see," Ferb replied. "That's something she said to me: 'do not be deterred by what you will see.' "

"At first you thought it meant what we'd see in our quest," Isabel guessed. "Like, the horrible things we'd see in our travels, like the refugee camp."

Ferb nodded.

"But now you think she was talking about these dreams of yours," Phineas said. "You think she was giving you a warning that you'd start having these… visions."

"She must have been," Isabel agreed.

"Alright," Phineas exhaled. "But that still doesn't answer the question of how. Or why. Both are pretty important."

Isabel's head tilted in thought. "Do you think it was Jenny?"

Phineas' eyebrows lifted. "Jenny?"

"Yeah. I mean, this is a fairly recent thing, right? You've only been seeing things since after we met her."

"That's true," Phineas said. He looked to Ferb. "Looking back, did you ever have these kinds of vision-dream-things before the quest without realizing it at the time?"

Ferb had given this question a lot of thought the day before, when they'd been traveling. He felt confident when he shook his head.

"He used to have nightmares," Isabel said a little sheepishly. "Those were pretty vivid for him, but they weren't about people, exactly." She looked to Ferb searchingly, like she was hoping this was all correct. "They were mostly about Excaliferb—you know, fighting with it, and having it break in his hands, and stuff."

Ferb did something between a nod and a shrug: yeah, but these are also different.

"Or the ones about his mom," Phineas added hesitantly. "Those were mostly before you were living with us, Isabel." Phineas blinked at Ferb. "I didn't know you had so many nightmares."

Ferb shook his head, like they were grossly exaggerating. Then he said, "These are still different, Phineas."

"Because the others didn't feel real," Phineas attempted at clarification.

This made Ferb think. "Well, my dreams have always felt real. Even back then." He could tell this didn't satisfy Phineas, so he added, "I suppose these are more… intense."

"More intense," Phineas repeated to himself. "More intense. More intense."

Isabel shot Ferb a look that said, he's in Phineasland.

Ferb nodded, a smile ghosting across his face. When they were kids, Isabel would laugh about how many times she observed Phineas drifting off into what she called Phineasland when he was working through things in their backyard. Ferb was used to it after so long with his brother. For someone who could get so distracted, Phineas also was capable of slipping into bouts of deep pensiveness.

"I don't like it," Bufavalous contributed again. "Never heard of magical dream visions. It just ain't natural. If there's one thing Van Stomms hate, it's wacky weird stuff like that."

"Van Stomms?" Isabel asked. Bufavalous faltered, then seemed to pick up his pace. He didn't respond, but Isabel was two steps ahead of him. "Is that your family name?"

Bufavalous must have known not saying anything would have been incredibly strange, so he barked, "Magic with a fairy, sure—weird and dangerous, but not unexpected. Magic sword? Not the best, seeing as how weak it is, but the chump sword does alright, I guess. But magic all over the place where it shouldn't be just ain't right."

When Bufavalous glanced back at them, his expression was foreboding and surprisingly intimidating. Isabel decided it wouldn't be wise to press him on anything at that ten seconds, and judging by her companions' silence, Phineas and Ferb were thinking the same thing.

From that point on, their walk was more than a little awkward. Bufavalous' mood had plummeted, and Phineas, Ferb, and Isabel had nothing so important to say that it was worth breaching the silence.

To their surprise, they were soon encountering scattered barns and houses on the outskirts of Thryth without being attacked. Isabel remembered Irving saying something about how Thryth was responsible for farming. Farming and coal mining, he'd said. The coal was sent to Amias.

Something about that didn't make sense to Isabel. If Thryth had coal and Amias was surrounded by rich farmland, why didn't the blacksmiths work in Thryth and the farmers live in Amias? Sure, the mines were a good ways away from the town, but Thryth was still responsible for the workers to fetch the resource. It all seemed so backwards. Politics, she mused. Must all be in the politics.

Isabel didn't know what to think as they drew closer and closer to the main markets and streets of Thryth. As a farming town, Isabel expected something peaceful and quiet. She expected tanned and friendly people, maybe some livestock, and an earthy stench in the air. She expected things to be simple and comfortable.

Thryth was nothing like Isabel had expected.

Isabel realized this first as they were winding their way through the main streets. The pathways weren't wide between buildings. There were quite a few, and they were very confusing. Even Bufavalous, who surely had been to Thryth before, hardly seemed to know exactly where they were. Isabel thought they could easily get lost in the maze-like market.

Second, Isabel realized, were the people. It wasn't that things were quiet—rather, the streets were filled with the clamor of any day of trade—but there was the same kind of intensity that came with deathly silence. Men glared at one another suspiciously. Women hurried from one place to another with their heads down. There were no children at all.

"Is this…" Phineas began, looking just as confused as Isabel felt.

"Welcome to Thryth," Bufavalous said, but even he sounded a little staggered. "Looks like things have taken a turn for the worst since Shrimpy and I were last around."

Only a short time along the main streets, and Isabel somehow felt dirty. She felt like there were eyes on her, creeping inch by inch over her skin. She had no idea why, but she suddenly felt like prey. She found herself standing a little taller, knowing no other way to fend off the feeling, but she doubted it did any good.

There was something else Isabel noticed: there were a lot of men with swords. They wore dark green cloaks and tended to flock in small groups. It made Isabel absolutely positive that she did not like Thryth. She suspected they'd never been in such close proximity with so many of Rogerick's men.

At the very least, these men seemed too busy drinking or whistling at women or just lazily slumming about that they didn't care or notice as Isabel and the others passed. That was about the only plus Isabel saw.

"And I don't suppose any of us suddenly remembered an Adrian on our way over?" Phineas asked. Bless him, Isabel thought, for the hint of optimism in his voice. It was far more than she could manage at that moment.

No one responded; they had no clue who Adrian was. They didn't even know why Perrible had suggested they find him or her, other than that they had the potential to help. Beyond that, Perrible hadn't been forthcoming with information.

"We could ask around?" Phineas' optimism slid, and it came out as a question. Then his eye caught on a particular member of the crowd—a girl. She had brown hair, much lighter than Mishti's had been. It was pulled neatly back, pinned perfectly atop her head. She was wearing a blue, frilly dress under a white cloak. Phineas felt his eyes trailing her as she walked from one merchant's tent to the next.

It took Phineas no time to recognize why this girl had captured his attention from all the other people: this girl was confident. She didn't walk with her head down, and she didn't glare at or cower from anyone who walked within two feet of her. She kept her gaze forward, and Phineas got the impression she was focused on her task—whatever that was.

"We could ask her," Isabel suggested. She pointed to the exact same girl Phineas had seen. Judging from the other's faces, he hadn't been the only one to notice her. Ferb and Bufavalous both nodded in agreement.

"Sure," Phineas agreed, and they started moving after her.

The girl continued on, turning her head slightly now and then to look at goods offered by various merchants, but she didn't stop once. At first, Phineas thought they weren't catching up to her because it was harder to navigate with a group of five than it was as only one person. It took two streets and three corners for Phineas to acknowledge something: this girl moved fast!

Finally, Phineas decided to abandon subtlety. He double-timed it and caught up to the girl.

"Hey," Phineas said, tapping on her shoulder. The girl spun around and for a second, Phineas thought she might hit him. It probably would have been funny, except the look in her eyes ruined his humor. It was fierce and protective, and something in it told Phineas this girl could take care of herself.

"I've seen you following me," she said in a quiet voice—quiet, but not gentle. It was edgy and dangerous. "If you're looking for money, you best move your arse along. If you're looking for favors, I swear I'll try to kill you before I let a single one of you lot lay a bloody finger me."

Phineas stared at the girl. He didn't mind her harsh words or her hostile demeanor. That didn't even register. Instead, Phineas was focused on the way this girl talked. Her voice, how her words sounded… Well, it reminded him startlingly of Ferb. He'd never heard anyone sound quite like Ferb before, except for their dad.

Phineas was so astounded he could only gape at her. Then Isabel grabbed his shoulders and pulled him behind her, giving the girl her best, most innocent smile.

"Um, hi," Isabel said brightly. "We weren't following you, or anything. I mean, we were, but no one's looking to lay a finger on anyone else. I'm Isabel."

"And I'm Phineas," Phineas said over Isabel's shoulder. "And this is my brother—"

"Save your introductions," the girl said. "And if you want to survive in Thryth, you better not go talking to just any ruddy stranger. You'll get yourself killed."

The girl pulled her hood up over her head, clearly indicating they leave her alone, when a shriek filled the air. It wasn't far off. Instead of heading away from the sound, the girl rushed towards it, but then another woman turned the corner and ran right into her.

"Elizabeth!" the woman panted. She was older, with light hair and a lined face. She spoke like Ferb, too. "Elizabeth, there are so many of them! More than ever before! You have to get going! Hurry home, child. Hurry home!"

"What?" the girl gasped—Elizabeth, apparently. "It's been such a soft week. They've barely shown their faces." She was steadying the shaking woman, looking all around. Then her eyes rested on their group, and she froze. Her eyebrows fell, and her previously concerned expression grew cold and suspicious, as if to say, and I suppose you lot have nothing to do with this.

"There's no time, child!" the older woman said, taking Elizabeth's hands. "A young girl like you, you shouldn't be out! They'd just love to find you on your own." She began pushing Elizabeth away.

"Wait," Elizabeth panted, refusing to budge. "Wait. Will you be alright? Can you make it home safely?"

"The worst they can do to me is take my money," the older woman barked. "Not much good for anything else anymore, but you know what they'd like to do to you. I'll be fine! Now home! Home with you!"

Elizabeth nodded and turned away, her cloak floating up around her as hurried off. The older woman started in the other direction. Isabel was just thinking maybe they should find somewhere to hide from whatever was happening, but out of nowhere, Phineas took off after the girl. Isabel, Ferb, and Bufavalous had only one second of surprise before they were forced to chase the redhead in pursuit.

"Wait!" Phineas called to Elizabeth. "Wait!"

From under her hood, Elizabeth looked back. Then she began to run faster. Unfortunately for the others, so did Phineas, turning on one street then another, following her precisely. She knocked a couple baskets off a table as she flew along, but Phineas jumped them with ease.

"Hold up!" the alchemist yelled. He was catching up to her. "Wait, I just want to ask you—We're looking for someone named Adrian!"

And suddenly Elizabeth turned on her heel. Before Phineas knew what had happened, the distance between them was gone, and she had him pinned to the side of a building, her elbow against his throat. In her hand, a small knife gleamed. Phineas had no idea where that had come from, but at the moment, he didn't dare to even breath.

"What do you want with Adrian?" Elizabeth barked. "He sent you, right? But we have nothing more to give!"

Phineas barely allowed himself to suck in a gulp of air, let alone say a word. He stared at Elizabeth, taken aback by the way her voice suddenly shook, the tears pooling at the edges of her eyes, the fear held back by a mask of fierce determination.

Then his friends turned the corner, and Ferb yelled, "Phineas!"

Ferb rushed forward, but Elizabeth turned, brandishing her knife at him. Ferb glanced at it, then drew Excaliferb. To his surprise, this didn't have the intimidating effect on the girl he expected it to have. She still raised her knife, small and insignificant looking next to his sword, and glared at him defiantly. Her eyes roved Ferb's face, and she suddenly looked genuinely confused, but she didn't waver.

"You won't take anything else from us," she said. "I don't care how many of you there are."

Once again, it was Isabel who stepped forward, glancing worriedly at Phineas, still pinned to the wall. His face was bright red, and his eyes were wide as he stared at Elizabeth.

"We're not who you think we are," Isabel said, her voice calm and collected despite everything. "We're not with Rogerick. In fact, we hate him. But we need to find someone named Adrian, and we'd appreciate if you could help us." As Isabel looked at the girl, she figured help was a little far fetched. "Or at the very least, we'd appreciate if you didn't stab Phineas."

Elizabeth studied her warily. It looked like she wanted to believe them, but just couldn't allow herself to do it. Some way or another, Isabel thought this girl had been turned into a survivor, and trust wasn't something survivors could afford.

Finally, Elizabeth pulled her elbow from Phineas' throat, and the redhead let out a relieved sigh. She backed up slowly, her knife still raised.

"Stop looking for Adrian," Elizabeth said solemnly. "Please. Just stop looking for him."

With that, she turned and continued down the alley—only to stop at the end. Then she started walking backwards, towards them again while she kept her eyes forward. At first Isabel didn't understand, but then shadows rose along the wall—a lot of shadows, tall and wide. They heard the ruckus of men, blocking the end of the alley, and Elizabeth's path.

The alley was filled with a dirty sort of smell—of aggression and too much alcohol. The men looked ordinary, with worn cloaks and travel bags. But half of them also carried weapons. And when they saw Elizabeth, the faces of the men in front lit with a predatory sort of smile.

Ferb rushed forward and took Elizabeth's wrist. Then he turned and ran, thankful that Phineas immediately followed, and that Elizabeth didn't protest. When he connected with the rest of their group, they skidded to a halt. Behind Bufavalous and Isabel, on the other side of the alley, were three more men. Slowly, they began to close in, smiling and jeering. There were seven total.

"I'm afraid we're collecting fees for being out this late," called one of them. The sun was high in the sky.

Another said, "Rogerick's orders."

On their other side, the man in front chimed, "And if you don't have money, I'm sure we could find some other form of payment. Entertainment. Begging. Whatever it is we want from you."

Isabel felt herself go cold when she realized this man was looking directly at her. The smile on his face reminded her of the one on that man's face from the bar in Amias—wolfish.

Then Ferb was in front of her, and she found her fingers weaving into the fabric of his cloak. It wasn't out of fear of the men. It was out of fear that Ferbwas standing between her and the men. The terrible image of Ferb in Rogerick's study, Southern's blade at his chest, flashed into her mind. She couldn't stand to see him protecting her now, like he had then.

Suddenly one of the men from either side charged.

Ferb stepped forward and parried the man's attack. On their other side, Bufavalous slid in front of Phineas and, wielding his ax with only one hand, knocked back the strike of Rogerick's other man. But Isabel knew these guys were just testing the waters, seeing who were the fighters and who was the prey.

Besides, Bufavalous couldn't fight with Baljeetolus on his back, could he? That idea sounded too dangerous for words. That left only Ferb with a decent enough weapon, and he couldn't fight off seven.

One by one, Rogerick's men smiled as they decided no one in their group was going to obsequiously make payment or endure torment. Not all of the men had swords, but Isabel would fare no better in a fistfight than in a sword fight. She could practically taste the seconds stagnating in the air.

Then Rogerick's men attacked.

One man, the leader judging by the way he carried himself, came after Elizabeth with his sword, and Isabel shrieked in horror—but Elizabeth caught his strike on the hilt of her knife. She stepped in for leverage, and actually held the man, knife on sword. It was such a skillful move that Isabel felt her mouth pop open.

But that was only one small impasse amongst a torrent of danger. Ferb was fighting one goon, Bufavalous another. One of the men was standing back, like he was afraid to fight. That left the last two men to charge freely—straight at her.

Phineas suddenly stepped in front of her just like his older brother had. Silly, ridiculous boy—how could he think to protect her when he, himself, had no form of protection? He was going to get himself killed! They all were, so concerned with saving each other. She couldn't, couldn't, couldn't allow that.

"You idiot!" she cried, practically ripping Phineas' arm off as she yanked him behind her. Then she leveled her hand to the ground, and both men tripped, yelping as they toppled forward. Long strands of grass were tangled around their feet.

"Isabel!" Phineas gasped, but the men were already starting to get back up. The alchemist grabbed the nearest trash pail and flung the contents out over the men. While that did no damage, it distracted the angry men just long enough for Bufavalous to get the best of the thug fighting him.

Isabel noticed with panic that Baljeetolus was no longer on Bufavalous' back. The elf was lying in a heap on the ground, against the side of the building. He must have fallen off during the fight. But regardless, Bufavalous leapt over the unmoving form of the man he'd been fighting, and body slammed the two on the ground. Both let out a sickening holler of pain, before the brute bashed their heads together, and they slumped back to the dirt, unconscious.

Behind them, Ferb let out a gasp, and Isabel turned just in time to see him get tackled to the ground. She could see the anger on his face as he glared at the man on top of him. But it wasn't as bad as she thought, because Ferb quickly rolled so he was on top of the other man, and struck him with Excaliferb's handle. The man went still.

"Oi, watch it," came Elizabeth's voice. She dodged an aggressive swipe from the man after her, and his momentum carried him forward. He toppled and almost tripped, but righted himself just as Ferb stood up. The man could tell he'd been defeated. Ferb could see that in the cowardly way the man sized him up. Ferb smiled and lifted his sword; bring it on.

The man turned on his heel as if to run, but as soon as he was facing Elizabeth again, she decked him in the face. The wham of her fist against his jaw was loud and strong despite the chaos, and the man went down like a sack of flour.

"Oh, hell!" Elizabeth said, shaking her hand. She was bouncing around, hissing at the pain her knuckles were surely in, but she was grinning like it was the best thing in the world. "But you bloody well deserve that, you mutt!"

Elizabeth was yelling at the unconscious man, and from behind her, Isabel swore she heard Bufavalous mutter, "I am so in love with her right now." When Isabel glanced back, however, she saw Bufavalous had already moved on to tackling and knocking out the one goon who had been too scared to fight. In practically no time, the seventh man joined his friends in the dirt.

At the same time, Ferb was already in motion again. At first, Isabel thought he was rushing toward her, as if to make sure she was okay, but it became clear quickly that he was rushing towards Baljeetolus.

Baljeetolus! How could Isabel forget? She rushed over and crouched down next to Ferb as he took Baljeetolus' shoulder—the uninjured one. The elf let out a quiet moan.

"Got tossed during the fight," Bufavalous panted, making his way back to them. "It was that or take a knife. I didn't—Is he…?"

Baljeetolus shifted, and they all froze. No one but Elizabeth breathed. Baljeetolus shifted again and moaned, but his eyes didn't open. His eyebrows were scrunched, making him look like he was either in pain or was thinking deeply. Isabel hoped for the latter. That was so like Baljeetolus, thinking profound thoughts even when injured. That just had to be it.

Isabel realized, impossibly, that only a second had passed. Ferb took off his hat and wiped his sleeve across his forehead. Then one voice cut through the silence.

"Ferb? Oh my god, Ferb…" No one had expected this. No one expected Elizabeth to push past Bufavalous and grasp Ferb's shoulders. Elizabeth pulled him to his feet, her eyes raking his face. Ferb was too stunned to do anything but stand there while her hands moved from his arms to his hair to his cheeks. Isabel would have been angry if she weren't so confused by Elizabeth's sheer joy.

"How do you know…" Ferb said slowly, his words trailing off. Hearing their voices back to back for the first time, the others could truly appreciate just how similar they were, dipping in the same ways, inflecting in the same places. "Have we met before?"

At this, every ounce of Elizabeth's hostility from earlier was gone. She threw her arms around Ferb's neck and let out a little sob. Ferb didn't know if he should gently push her off or hold her, so he simply stood still, feeling his cheeks heat in embarrassment.

"I just—I can't believe this," Elizabeth gasped, holding him even tighter. "And how did you get to be so ruddy tall? It's crazy!"

Ferb felt he had to say something, so he muttered, "I've always been fairly tall for my age."

"Not always," Elizabeth hummed, pulling back to study his face again. "You used to be so small. But my god, now we're both grown up, aren't we? And you're tall, and you're fending off fiends with swords, and bloody hell," she let out a short laugh, "I'd be lying if I said I expected anything different from you."

Her voice was so unlike what it had been before. It was gentle and kind, and it suddenly sounded so eerily familiar and distant to Ferb that it gave him vertigo. With a slow, bewildered shake of his head, Ferb said, "I know you." It was no longer a question.

Tears glimmering in her brown eyes, Elizabeth nodded. Her eyes looked just like his father's, Ferb thought. They were exactly the same. She quickly wiped the wetness away, but her smile remained, brilliant and wide.

"Eliza," she told him. "Call me Eliza." She reached up again and touched Ferb's cheek. She was still studying him, but in an unbelievably tender way. She looked at Ferb like his presence was the most incredible gift she could have ever received. "And of course you know me, Ferb. We're cousins."


Review, please!

I told you some surprises were coming. Tadaaaaa! Eliza Fletcher, ladies and gentlemen! Eliza Fletcher. Ohhhh yeah.

Any Phineas and Ferb nerd out there know who Adrian is off the top of their head? Major kudos to you, if you remember!

And yes indeed, Phineas met Mishti. When it comes to the show and canon universe, I'm all about Baljeet and Ginger (not that I disliked Mishti, or anything). Seeing as Ginger is a sprite, however, that shipping wouldn't exactly work out in this story. So I've been enjoying the opportunity to explore a shipping I otherwise wouldn't consider.

Again: Eliza Fletcher. I'm excited. I hope you are too! I really think I'll surprise you further with all I'm doing with her. I definitely didn't expect or plan for all that unfolds (and I'm the freaking writer)!

I'd love to hear what you're thinking! Please leave me a review :)

~Lilly-Belle