Hey, it was only two weeks and a day this time! Yes! I'm really happy I didn't end up making you guys wait too long. Unfortunately, I had time to get this to you so quickly because I have been terribly ill for 8 days now -.-' But hey, silver lining, right? Now you get another chapter.

Thank you so much for your reviews. Your predictions were quite interesting, and I did see a couple that were correct, in one aspect or another. I love the creativity in some of your responses :) Also, I noticed quite a few new people to the story. Welcome! I'm happy you're here.

This 17-page chapter is a bit shorter considering my recent run of ridiculously long chapters, but I think you'll find it's jam-packed despite its smaller word count. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE:

The Storm

"I thought you said—the flipping cockatrice blood—would stop this from happening!" Phineas panted as he jumped over a log.

All five of them were running at a sprint, which was really saying something, since they were in the middle of a throng of trees, intermixed with rocky terrain, with minimum light from the just-breaking day, and a completely unknown enemy that, given the trajectory of numerous spears flying in their direction, could potentially be on any and all sides of them. It was a good thing Phineas was an optimist.

"These things ain't your typical monsters!" Bufavalous snapped back.

A shadow cut them off, and Phineas didn't know what to make of the monster in their path until Bufavalous tried to strike it, and his blade scuffed harmlessly down its core. That was when Phineas realized, whatever the thing was, it was made of stone. Bufavalous' curse rang loud and clear in the air, and he barely managed to parry the monster's attack. Ferb joined the effort, and he must have found a weak spot, because whatever they were facing crumbled with the swipe of his sword.

Phineas didn't feel like celebrating, though. He knew with dread that there were a ton of those things out there, spread through the trees. He didn't know how many, but he figured he didn't want to find out.

"There are so many," Isabel wheezed, her hand on her forehead. Here eyes were wide, and she looked a little dazed. She was falling behind. Phineas met Ferb's eyes, and they both reached back to her—but they weren't watching where they were going, and ran straight into Baljeetolus, who had stopped.

"Yes," Baljeetolus said, groaning as he pushed Phineas away from him. He readdressed Isabel. "Yes, can you tell how many?"

"Jeet," Bufavalous warned, turning in all directions. They were in a good place to stop, though. A rocky bluff stuck up six feet on one of their sides, which provided some cover. The brute pushed them all closer to the mountain face. His eyes vigilantly scouted the trees.

"I know," Baljeetolus muttered to the brute, even as his gaze remained on Isabel. He repeated, "Can you tell how many?"

Isabel blinked, looking all around. The forest—it just felt wrong, all wrong. Nature was being assaulted by dark magic. She couldn't look at the others as she muttered, "Too many. Dozens."

"How could you possibly know that?" Phineas asked, looking from the fairy to the elf. "And what do you mean these aren't typical monsters? What are we up against?"

If everything they were already facing weren't enough to make Phineas wary, the look Bufavalous and Baljeetolus shared definitely put it over the top.

"They're magic," Isabel said. "I have no idea what they are, but I can just sense that. They're pure dark magic, and they're everywhere."

"They are gargoyles, I am afraid," Baljeetolus said solemnly.

"Nasty business," Bufavalous added in just as grave of a tone. "They're serious trouble."

"Wait a minute…" Phineas said slowly. He remembered a talk he'd had with the elf and the brute, way back when they'd first joined the quest. "Didn't you say one of those things destroyed practically all of Kaigate?"

"That is correct," Baljeetolus said. His fingers twitched on the curve of his bow—a nervous tick? That didn't bode well.

"Alright," Phineas exhaled. "How did you defeat the first one?"

Bufavalous and Baljeetolus glanced at each other again, their faces grim. Phineas really wished they'd stop doing that, it was only making things worse. Then Baljeetolus said, "We brought a house down on it."

Phineas blinked once, twice, a third time. They brought an entire house down on it, just to destroy one? "Um. Yeah, I don't think that'll work this time. We're fresh out of houses."

"Well, when swords don't work, you got to get creative!" Bufavalous said defensively. "What potions you got to get us out of this?"

Phineas' fingers tightened on the strap of his satchel. "I don't have any."

Bufavalous choked on air. "You mean to tell me you spent all day in Prissy Pant's backyard playing around with all that wizardling gobbledygook, and you ain't got a single potion to show for it?"

Phineas swallowed, waving his hands back and forth. "No! I just—Nothing that will help!"

"So no houses and no potions," Isabel jumped in. "That just means we need a plan B."

"There's only one plan B where these things are involved," Bufavalous mumbled.

"Run?" Phineas guessed, and Bufavalous snorted.

"Tactical retreat."

"Well Ferb managed to destroy one, didn't he?" Isabel added helpfully. They looked to Ferb, and all of their gazes fell to Excaliferb, clutched in his hand. It must have been like the cockatrice's scales; Excaliferb could penetrate the gargoyle's stone, even when normal blades could not. "That's a start, right?"

There was a sound of something crashing to their right—maybe even an entire tree falling down.

"Let us not wait to test a hypothesis," Baljeetolus said, and he definitely didn't need to repeat himself; they all clambered forward, once again bobbing and weaving their way through the trees.

It was so much worse than before. They had to pay such close attention to how and where they were running, avoiding rocks and foot catches, and potential threats, that they could hardly ensure they all kept together.

One gargoyle swung out of nowhere in front of Baljeetolus, and he would have run right into it if Bufavalous hadn't yanked him to the side. They both disappeared from Phineas' sight. He realized he didn't know where Isabel was either, and that was nearly enough to give him a panic attack; but he couldn't stop running when there was the sound of snapping branches behind him, and moments later, he was bursting through the trees into a clearing.

They must have run in a circle, or curved back a bit after they stopped, because Phineas didn't think they were too far from where they'd set up camp. Only it was different, now that wind blew around him, and his heart was drumming a frenzy against his ribcage, and they could die at any second.

Where were the others?

Phineas learned too late that gargoyles weren't as noisy as meatlings or cockatrices; they didn't announce their presence with mighty roars or ear-piercing shrieks. They were silent as stone. Phineas heard a creak behind him, and flung himself forward out of sheer fear. It was a good thing, too, because he'd barely avoided the arm of a gargoyle.

Phineas got a good look at it for the first time. It kind of looked like a statue, dark gray and six feet tall. It had a toned chest and legs, leading down to feet that ended with talons. Its arms were no different, humanoid and muscled, with sharp talons at the end of its fingers. Its face could only be described as demonic. Worst of all, it had small wings on its back. Did that mean it could fly? Phineas hoped not. It was stone, after all. They had to be heavy.

Phineas scrambled to his feet and took off, but he had been looking back at the gargoyle behind him, and that was a mistake. He didn't even see what was in front of him until he slammed into something hard. He only registered the second gargoyle as it already had Phineas in its hand. It wasn't much taller than Phineas, but its large hand grasped him around his waist and lifted him from the ground.

The creature—thing—had ahold of him, and though he kicked and grabbed and tried to get free, the gargoyle was pure stone, and Phineas' efforts proved to be feeble. It raised its second fist, no doubt to slash him with those rocky talons—but a blade burst through the center of its chest. Quite suddenly, the gargoyle crumbled.

"Wah!" Phineas yelped as he landed hard on his butt—he kept doing that! His poor tailbone had to be bruised by now. He noticed he was staring at boots, his brother's boots. Coughing the debris from his lungs, he questioned, "Ferb?"

Ferb didn't respond, but rushed past Phineas, where the other gargoyle waited. Swipe, swipe. Excaliferb cleaved it in two, and it crumbled like the one before it.

"There are too many," Phineas said, getting to his feet. He took his brother's arm, pulling him closer as he said, "We can't stay still, they'll catch up!"

Ferb nodded curtly, and in an instant, he took lead, dashing off with Phineas in tow. They had to reach Bufavalous, Baljeetolus, and Isabel. They tore into the trees, ducking low branches and sidestepping rocks, further and further. Phineas was just thinking they'd run way too far—but thank the Lady Phineas heard them! They had to be close, but it sounded like they were in a struggle. The three of them must be fighting gargoyles of their own, and Phineas couldn't imagine they were doing well. They'd need help.

Phineas had no problem keeping up with his brother, but he realized running was a little too easy. His bag wasn't bumping against his leg—his bag! Phineas didn't have his satchel. Its strap must have torn in the struggle with that gargoyle. It must still be back in that pile of rubble!

"My satchel!" Phineas hollered, making to head back, but Ferb tightened his grip on Phineas' wrist and pulled him on. "My satchel," Phineas protested, "I lost it, Ferb. We have to go back!"

Ferb glanced back at him, his expression regretful. He shook his head, and didn't slow. And of course Phineas knew his brother had a point; the others needed Ferb's help, and he wasn't about to separate from Phineas, either. But… his satchel. Phineas looked back at the expanse of trees behind them. He knew he'd regret not having it later.

"Phineas! Ferb!" It was Isabel, and Phineas knew Ferb and he had caught up with the others just in time. They had not one, but two gargoyles attacking them. Isabel and Baljeetolus were trying to distract them while Bufavalous struck, but even the heaviest swings with his ax barely took a knick out of the enchanted stone. It was a losing battle.

Isabel and Baljeetolus dove out of the way just in time for Ferb to jump in. He sidestepped one of the monster's arms, and brought his sword down right at its elbow. By all means, it shouldn't have been a fatal hit, but Excaliferb sliced right through the stone like it was nothing more than butter, and the gargoyle crumbled. It was like one touch from the vorpal blade destroyed the creature's very essence.

And of course it did, Phineas realized. Hadn't Ferb complained once that Excaliferb always felt uncertain in his hands when he was facing Rogerick's men? But it wreaked havoc to meatlings, and impenetrable cockatrice hide, and gargoyles. Excaliferb wasn't meant to fight humans. It was a magic blade. That meant more then simply being drawn from stone and being picky about its wielder. It was literally made to fight magic. That was its very purpose.

Ferb spun with incredible speed, dodging the second gargoyle's swipe. He slashed Excaliferb through the monster's leg, and before it even had time to break, he sliced it up its middle, too. This gargoyle burst into little more than dust.

"What do you think of magic now, Bufavalous?" Baljeetolus coughed, an unexpected humor in his voice. "I do not suppose you wish you had a magic sword, too."

Bufavalous was coughing also, swiping at the debris in the air like it might actually make a difference. "So his fancy sword can cut through some baddies. Still wouldn't be any indestructible baddies if it ain't for magic in the first place."

Baljeetolus choked out a laugh, his hands on his knees while he regained control of his breath. "You are incorrigibly stubborn."

"Damn straight," Bufavalous agreed.

His friends looked every bit as winded as Phineas felt. It was so tempting to wait here, and catch their breath. Maybe try to devise some strategy. At least there were no more gargoyles in their immediate proximity. That was their only salvation; the gargoyles were spread out and slow. Or a little slower, at least.

Still, they couldn't just keep running through the forest. Not with spears flying through the air in any clearing between trees. And Ferb couldn't protect all five of them with a single sword. If they got delayed fighting off two or three, and more caught up, they would be surrounded, and would surely die.

"We need to keep moving," Phineas sighed. His hand grasped open air at his side—messing with his satchel like he always did—when he remembered he no longer had it. His hand closed in a fist.

"To what end?" Baljeetolus panted. He was far from recovered from their run. "We keep running, all day? All night? We keep fighting? Or, more accurately, Ferb keeps fighting for us?" Phineas thought the elf might as well just come out and say that he didn't see how they would make it out of this. It would have been easier than all of the questions.

"Well for now we keep moving," Bufavalous said, hefting his ax back up from the ground. He made to continue forward, but Isabel reached out and took his arm.

"No!" she yelped. "Not that way!"

"Oh, what fresh nonsense is this?" Bufavalous groaned, smacking his forehead. Phineas figured the brute was maxed-out on magic phenomena for a lifetime. Although Phineas knew where Bufavalous was coming from, he still didn't like the upset look his reaction brought to Isabel's face.

Phineas took the fairy's arm, pulling her a little closer as he said, "Why? What's down there?"

Isabel looked from him to the looming trees. Slowly, she shook her head. "It's what isn't down there," she muttered. "I can just—just tell animals are scared, really scared, but down there? There's nothing in that direction. No animals at all."

Bufavalous groaned. "Which means there's either a heaping horde of gargoyles in that direction, or a giant monstrous something we don't want to be messing with."

"So we double back?" Phineas ventured. "Maybe see if we can make it back to our cart. We can try to make a better run for it from there."

"We would be quicker in the cart than on foot," Baljeetolus added thoughtfully, rubbing his chin.

"Uh uh," Bufavalous huffed. "We've got that clearing separating us and where we left the cart. Probably the only way we'd find where we left it would mean crossing it. We'd risk too much exposure, it ain't safe. At least the trees catch the worst of their spears and hide us a bit."

A shadow appeared not too far in front of them, and Phineas would have taken a spear to the face if Bufavalous hadn't been so quick as to bat it away with the side of his ax. Ferb swerved out from behind the brute and charged just as the monster did the same. Ferb made to swing at it, but the gargoyle knocked his attack aside. Thankfully, that was when an ax hurdled through the air and bashed the monster right upside the head. It bought Ferb enough time to run Excaliferb right through the gargoyle's gut. He let his sword arm drop to his side as the monster fell apart.

"Well clearly we can't just stand here," Isabel said, her voice strident with worry.

Ferb scooped Bufavalous' ax from the rubble—man, how could he carry around something so heavy? The brute met him halfway, taking his weapon back. He gave Ferb the slightest nod, and Ferb thought he'd maybe just experienced the closest thing Bufavalous gave to a compliment. Regardless, they all regrouped. A decision needed to be made. There was no more room for hesitation.

"When all probabilities are pointing towards certain death…" Baljeetolus began, staring Bufavalous in the eyes.

Bufavalous ran his hand over his face and down his beard. His voice was somber as he finished, "You've got to take your best shot." He sighed. "Alright. The cart it is."

His satchel. Maybe there was hope after all. Phineas nodded his approval. He was relieved when Ferb and Isabel did the same. Maybe they could even find their way back to the cart without the danger of passing through the clearing, if they went around it, or something. But then again, Phineas thought they didn't know these woods well enough to find their cart without finding and crossing the clearing first. They gathered themselves for one more moment. Then they set off.

Their plan initially proved to be the best decision. They managed to double back quite a ways without encountering any of the fiends on their trail. They must have spread out quite a bit in their search. Phineas had no idea which way to go, but Baljeetolus, studying the moss and shrubbery around them, found the right path. Just before they reached the clearing, they met their first enemy, but Ferb made quick work of it. The most difficult stretch of their course lay in front of them.

The sheer number of their enemies was revealed to them for the first time. Isabel doubted that the gargoyles were more concentrated in the clearing; they were simply more visible without the trees. Morning had fully dawned, and light flooded the sky. Of course it was a relief to be able to see better, but it was also a curse. Now they could see just how much they were up against.

There were a dozen at the borders of the trees, on the west side of the clearing. They were heading southeast, so the group of gargoyles wasn't blocking their path, but their proximity guaranteed spears flying in their direction. Six gargoyles traveled through the center of the clearing. As soon as they made a run for it, they'd be seen and pursued. They could see all sorts of movement in the surrounding trees.

Was it a mistake to come back this way? Would any other path really have been better? There had to be a hundred of these things, and only five of them, and out of those five, only one that could truly fight. What chance did they have?

Isabel clung to Ferb's arm, and he looked down at her. She saw her same panic, her same doubt reflected in his eyes. For once, she would have hoped that they weren't on the same page. That would make her a little more hopeful.

Something in Ferb's eyes changed, making his expression just a little more desperate. It was a change Isabel thought only she would recognize, maybe because she felt a new sort of desperation inside of her, too. It made her think back to the time they'd spent alone, when they'd been sent to find a stream from which they could refill their water.

It was almost impossible for Isabel to think that had only been yesterday evening, barely more than twelve marks ago. After the cockatrice attack, everything had been so quiet. It had actually been nice, hiking through the trees. They weren't so high up, in their valley, so they got all the rockiness of mountains with all the verdure of low altitude. It had a clean, earthy smell. This land had been untouched by humans for eight years.

The first stretch of their venture passed a little slowly, Ferb poised with Excaliferb while she carried the group's empty water pouches. At the very least, Baljeetolus had proven to be right about the cockatrice blood, because not a creature stirred.

Ferb had been silently walking next to her. That wasn't odd for him, but Isabel could tell something had been weighing on his mind. It wasn't altogether difficult for her to deduce the cause. He'd been withdrawn since his excursion with Baljeetolus, and the elf had seemed a little more sullen, too. The animosity between them had dissolved, though Isabel figured how they'd achieved such peace was the true question.

She stopped and deposited the water pouches at her feet. They deserved a small break, and it had been so long since they'd talked. That was mostly her fault, she knew. She'd been avoiding talking to him, really, but she decided she just couldn't keep that up when something was clearly bothering him.

"I'd like to know about it."

He smirked at her, because of course she didn't need to specify to know what she was talking about. He shrugged in deliberation, before slowly sheathing his sword.

He honestly didn't know if it was or wasn't his place to talk about this. At the same time, Ferb didn't think Baljeetolus would attempt to keep the information from her; if she didn't already know what Baljeetolus had disclosed to him, it was because it hadn't come up, not out of avoidance or omission.

So he told her. He told her how he never expected the sheer amount of emotion and turmoil Baljeetolus had expressed. He told her why Baljeetolus was so upset: how he was perpetually isolated from the world around him because, integrated as he was with humans, he would never be like them on the most fundamental level.

"That must be difficult, always being reminded of that," Isabel said quietly. It didn't nearly cover all of what Ferb said, but she didn't know what else to say. In a weird way, as sad as it was, she was really excited and relieved that Baljeetolus had shared something so personal with Ferb. She'd grown closer to and fonder of the elf than she'd ever thought she would. Watching them grow together, even over something so gloomy, was heartwarming.

Then Ferb destroyed any semblance of warm fuzzies she'd had.

"That must be why you've been upset," he said. He spoke so hesitantly, letting her know he was very uncertain to be broaching this topic, but he continued nonetheless. "You're a fairy, and I'm…" Oh dear, he was blushing. She'd finally realized what he was implying, and she just knew she had to be blushing now, too. He shook his head. "I would understand if that was what has been bothering you, and I just wanted to assure you… that you could talk to me about it."

She wasn't sure if she'd ever seen him quite so embarrassed. She'd also rarely seen him quite so serious. The weight of his words, the implications, settled on her. Ferb thought she'd been so hesitant about the two of them because she might be sterile? And if she were being completely, totally, brutally honest… she realized she probably was.

She would remain calm. Level headed. "I never even thought of that."

Was it devastating? Isabel wasn't sure. The idea of having a… full family? Like… kids? Ferb was her family. Phineas was her family. That was all she knew. But what if they survived? What if Ferb and she were actually together? What if they were actually a family? If they started one?

And what if she couldn't actually have that? Her gaze dropped to the dirt.

"I never thought of that…" she repeated. She felt something building in her throat, so she quickly forced herself to look back up at him. She needed him to go on, to bring up something else, to take away this sudden appeal of him and her and everything life could be. She didn't want to cry.

She was met with a distraction. She never imagined Ferb could look at her so confused and surprised. It made her wonder what else had to be said.

Ferb licked his lips. "You mean that wasn't what's been bothering you?" he asked quietly.

Isabel understood. He thought this sterility issue was what had been bothering her this whole time. If only that were it. She thought of Phineas, of his smile. She would keep her emotions in check. "No, that—that wasn't." She was off to a calm start. "Like I said, that had never even occurred to me until now."

Ferb's silent question was clear: so what was?

Isabel exhaled. "Obviously, there's a matter of my size and my magic," she began, "but that's not what's been… you know, making me so—distant."

It felt a little weird to be openly talking about her emotions. Sprites didn't feel emotions let alone talk about them. Of course she was a fairy, not a sprite; but she doubted any fairies ever fell in love before. And talking about that was bound to be hard, no matter what species you were!

Ferb was looking at her so imploringly. He was so curious, so concerned. It made Isabel suddenly wonder how or why she ever kept this from him in the first place. It was Ferb. And it was so foolish. He'd always be able to tell when something was bothering her, and he'd always be able to tell if she wasn't honest about it. All of this distance and secrecy—well, a fool's errand indeed.

"I've been upset because Baljeetolus reminded me about a fairy's lifespan," she admitted. Ferb's eyebrows lifted just slightly, so she continued, "Fairies are considered fully matured around the age of twenty. After that, their aging process suddenly slows, and it slows drastically."

Isabel watched as Ferb processed this. He ran a hand over his mouth, then to his neck, nodding slowly. She could tell he needed to move around for this to sink in, and a moment later, Ferb paced from one tree to another.

She took another deep breath. "After growing up with you, Ferb—well, I can't imagine not growing old with you, you know?" She wrapped her arms around herself, her voice impossibly quiet and foreign to her ears as she said, "And if I outlive you… I don't want to outlive you for long. But there's no way to escape that, Ferb. It's just… part of being a fairy."

Ferb's feet faltered, just slightly, and he watched her. She wasn't sure to which part of her spiel to attribute his stunned expression. Then he went back to his pacing. It was blaringly clear to Isabel that Ferb was trying to make amends for the mass of things stacked against them, and that he was struggling with it. She was struggling with it, too. There were too may ifs. Death. Size. Lifespans. Now fertility, too. It was all so much.

It was too much.

Isabel marched straight up to Ferb, stopping him in his tracks. Ferb blinked down at her questioningly; she couldn't even imagine what her expression looked like. She took the front of his tunic, pushed up onto the tips of her toes, and kissed him. And she felt happy again, having him close, and feeling his surprise.

Of course she knew it couldn't last long going into it, but she didn't expect Ferb to gently push her back.

"Isabel?" Ferb said hesitantly. He took a step away from her, and he was studying her intensely. Sweet, sweet boy. She knew he was worried about why she'd suddenly kissed him. He was worried she was trying to make him happy at her own expense. But that wasn't it.

"It's all so depressing," Isabel stated. "All of it, Ferb. There's so much turmoil and confusion and things in our way. This is getting more and more dangerous, and I—" She blew out a breath that was almost a laugh. "I guess it's so easy to be upset about all of it instead of just… appreciate it, you know? Appreciate you."

Ferb's eyes softened, though he still looked startled by this sudden change. He reached out for her, and she met his hand with her own.

"I just… I can't help but think about when you jumped off that cliff," she continued, her voice lower still. "When you trusted me, even when no one else would. We were ten, Ferb. Nearly half my life has been you. And I've been so worried about all these things between us since Amias that I think I forgot—" She laughed again, shaking her head. "I forgot the most simple fact that when I'm with you… I'm happy."

Ferb kissed her, and this time—this time—it was what she needed. He felt her tension under his palms and in her lips. He breathed her name, uncertain, but then she wrapped her arms around his neck. She pressed against him, all too eagerly returning his affection.

They both knew that this, here, was the point of no return.

And as his hands moved from her waist, her hips, the small of her back, again into her hair, and as she pulled on him, holding him closer, their previous task forgotten, they both knew that they'd left the point of no return behind.

Isabel couldn't help the sigh of contentment that escaped from her throat, but she regretted it almost immediately, because he pulled away again. He kept his arm around her body and his hand in her hair—he didn't let an inch of space come between them—but he parted their lips enough that he could speak.

The only problem was, as soon as he did, he couldn't remember what he going to say. Her quick pants for air mixed with his, and he felt their every movement. Her cheeks were flushed, and he could count her eyelashes if he wanted. It was all… incredibly distracting.

Isabel blinked up at him. She wasn't sure what her face looked like just then. Surprised, for sure. Bordering on shock, considering what had just been happening, and the way he was still holding her, and… Oh, she just knew her cheeks were heating! She still wasn't breathing normally, and she definitely wasn't thinking straight, but she offered him a shy smile, because it was just as she'd told him: she was happy.

Ferb was feeling equally surprised at his own actions, but seeing her smile up at him like she was made it difficult for him to question it. It made something swell in his chest, something proud and excited. It expanded there until he couldn't help but drop his hand to her cheek and pull her back to him. He was met with no resistance, only enthusiasm. It was easy, dangerously easy. It changed everything.

This, Isabel knew, this is what it feels like to be human.

But that moment was in the past for them. The fear Isabel felt now, this fear that they were all going to be killed by wretched gargoyles in this godforsaken forest… Well, Isabel thought to feel this fear was part of what it meant to be human, too. They were all in the climax of feeling alive.

Just like her panic and her doubt, Isabel could see the same fear in Ferb's face. They were all feeling it—Phineas and Baljeetolus and Bufavalous, too. But her eyes were on Ferb. They would always be on Ferb, until she died.

Isabel didn't care that the others were there, she took his face and pulled it to hers. The kiss was short and rough, but she needed it, and she could tell in those briefest seconds that he needed it too. Because then he had to pull back and she had to let him go, and they both had to live with the grimness on the other's face.

Then they were all running for their lives.

"Stick close to the trees!" Bufavalous called, though it was a mute point, since they were all sprinting as close to the break in the trees as they could.

It was immediate. Their movement triggered movement of all other sorts. The trees surrounding the clearing—in all directions, it seemed—shook as the stony creatures surely made their way through them. Or maybe that was just their jostling perception as they ran as fast as they could. The gargoyles in the clearing were already making their way toward them, but that was nothing compared to the spears. The gargoyles on the other side of the clearing threw them, and they were only falling short by maybe five feet.

A spear landed at Baljeetolus' feet, and he tripped. As quickly as they were all moving, it took the others too long to notice how swiftly he fell behind.

"Jeet!" Isabel screamed, and she was nearly bowled over as Bufavalous turned on his heel. The brute was tearing his traveling pack from his back, and Isabel couldn't understand why until he chucked it at Baljeetolus with all his might. Baljeetolus had barely snatched the bag and lifted it in front of his face before a spear pierced it. Isabel could hardly breath. The pan inside of Bufavalous' pack was the only thing that just saved Baljeetolus' life.

Ferb was in no position to help the two behind them because he was slashing their way forward. Maybe the gargoyles could sense when and where their comrades were slayed, or maybe there were just that many of them, but numerous gargoyles were spilling out from the trees, blocking their path.

He was so preoccupied fighting, Bufavalous and Baljeetolus had plenty of time to catch up, though that wasn't exactly the best thing. Isabel had to pull Phineas out of the way of one attack. Bufavalous rushed forward to help Ferb, but he could only do so much.

One gargoyle swiped at Isabel, but she tumbled to the side. She landed hard on the ground, and her ankle hurt. She'd stepped on it wrong, but it wasn't sprained or broken, it couldn't be. But she stayed down, because Ferb's sword was a deadly arc above her. There were so many enemies in front of them.

They were out of range of the spears now, weren't they? That meant Ferb just had to cut their path through these monsters, and they could make a break for it. They were close, so close. Ferb took down one gargoyle, then two, and another, just like he had before. If he felt fatigue, he didn't let it show as he swung Excaliferb.

Bufavalous deflected the strike of one monster. "We've gotta' move!"

But Isabel knew they couldn't just yet. Ferb was doing the best he could. Three gargoyles in their way. Two.

"Come on!" Phineas said, taking her hand. They would make it. Ferb sliced through the last monster in their path, leaving rubble for them to climb over, but that was fine. Once on the other side, it would provide cover. They would make it.

Ferb took her other hand, and the brothers pulled her to her feet. They took off—but Isabel was jerked back, like someone had yanked hard on her throat. She fell on her bum, and it took her a moment to understand that there was a spear anchoring her cloak to the ground. It must have landed behind her when she'd fallen, piercing the thick fabric.

"Isabel?" Phineas questioned, but Ferb had already put it together. He rushed to her and took hold of the spear. It was thrown with such force that it took him three tugs to dislodge it from the ground. It was stupid—she should have just removed her cloak and made a run for it! But Ferb threw the spear down. He pulled her up again, right as Baljeetolus shrieked.

Isabel looked to the elf. She thought she understood instantly; she thought the elf shrieked because more gargoyles blocked their path and were attacking. She was wrong.

Ferb pushed her, just in time to save her from a spear.

It barely missed her.

It barely missed her.

But it didn't miss Ferb.

Time became meaningless noise. Gasps. The wind. Ferb stared at Isabel like nothing had happened. Then he looked down, his hand raised to cradle the shaft protruding from his right lung. He staggered, and Phineas was too stunned, too slow to catch him.

Ferb fell.

No. That wasn't what happened. Phineas knew that didn't just happen. He dropped beside Ferb, knowing he had to do something—but it was an illusion, it had to be. Phineas knew it had to be. There wasn't a spear sticking from his brother's chest, there wasn't. There wasn't. There wasn't.

But then there was blood, so much blood, soaking Ferb's tunic, spilling from the corner of his mouth, spraying with his cough. Ferb's hand fell from the shaft. Both were slick and dark.

Oh, blood. God, there was so much blood. Phineas' entire life became red.

"Ferb," Isabel breathed, staring in horror.

"Sedate her," Baljeetolus barked at Bufavalous at the same time Ferb moaned in pain, and Isabel choked with grief, and it was all Phineas could do to try to put the pieces together in any way that made sense. Sedate her?

"Ferb?" Isabel repeated, her voice cracking. The wind picked up, and Phineas realized the fairy must have been responsible for it the entire time. But then she was staggering, too, and suddenly Bufavalous had her shoulders, holding her up. Holding her in place as she screamed, "Ferb? Ferb!"

"Listen to me," Bufavalous tried to call over her. "Listen to me, Girlie, we're all going to die out here if you don't—"

"No," Isabel sobbed, trying to break free from his grip. "No!"

Hands knocked Phineas' away from his brother. Baljeetolus was tearing the front of Ferb's shirt open with the point of one of his arrows, commanding, "As soon as it is out, cover it with the cloth. Heavy pressure."

Phineas only comprehended this as Baljeetolus took hold of the spear in Ferb's chest and yanked it straight up—Phineas would never be able to unhear his brother's scream. He quickly covered the wound with the remains of Ferb's shirt.

No. Phineas had to save his brother. "My satchel," he told Baljeetolus. "My satchel! I—I have to do something. Jeet, I can't—my satchel." His voice broke. "He can't—he can't die."

But it was futile, completely futile, because the army was closing in. The gargoyles were catching up, and another spear landed a foot from where they crouched.

"Cover, Bufavalous!" Baljeetolus yelled. "We could use some cover!" He pressed his hands over Phineas' to apply more pressure. Phineas met the elf's eyes. He saw his own inanity to help reflected there.

No.

"Can't fight with—Girlie, you gotta' control yourself!" Bufavalous hollered, shaking Isabel, but that only made the wind howl more—hurricane gusts that nearly drowned out all of their voices. "Isabel!"

The brute was trying to get her to focus on him, but she had eyes only for Ferb, and Phineas had never seen a look on anyone's face like the one Isabel had just then. He knew what she was thinking: they were all going to die. Ferb was already—not yet. No, no, no. Not yet.

"Phineas, it is—" Baljeetolus choked over his own words. "We have to find cover."

"We can't leave him!" Isabel screamed, fighting Bufavalous even harder as he began to drag her away. "No! We can't leave him! We can't—"

Baljeetolus tried to pull Phineas back. "It is too—"

"No!"

Bufavalous flew to the ground with Isabel's shriek, and suddenly Isabel was doubled over, her hands in her hair. Tears stained her face as she stared at Ferb, and she shook with such violence Phineas swore the ground was shaking, too. And Phineas could see it in an instant—the change. The snap. The crazed, raw power.

A wave of energy blasted from her, threatening to rip everything away. Spears splintered in the air, exploding into shards of wood and stone. Gargoyles flew, tumbling and crashing, caught in the chaos storm. But that wasn't the scary part.

The scary part was the eye of the storm.

Isabel's fists were clenched in rage and her hair whipped around her head in the violent winds. Mist seeped from the earth, licking up her legs and curling into the air in thick streamers. Her gale slowly lifted her off the ground, rising with power, and that was when Phineas saw—god, her eyes. They were white, completely white. They were glowing like frostbitten fire.

"Isabel!" Phineas yelled, but she didn't seem to hear him. "Isabel!"

"Bel…" Ferb groaned. The sound was so jarring, so painful, Phineas crouched over his brother's body, trying to protect him from any further harm. Bufavalous and Baljeetolus stared on, dumbstruck in witness of such encompassing devastation.

Then the air heated, growing metallic with livid energy, and Isabel screamed. Her body went rigid, and the sky cracked with the power. Lightning crashed down—hundreds of shards of hellfire. Strike after strike, flash after flash. The only sound was the roar of thunder. It drowned out all else until Phineas had to cover his ears and squeeze his eyes shut. His skin tingled from the mist clinging to him, from the emotion he could taste in it.

And then it was silent. The wind was gone. Phineas' eyes snapped open, and the first thing he saw was Baljeetolus, crouched close to him. The elf's eyes were wide and scared, and Bufavalous was no different. Then they got a look around them—at what wasn't around them.

Malifishmirtz's army was reduced to dust.

Isabel hung, suspended, in the sky, mist still swirling around her while those fire-white eyes stared on. Lightning was frozen in a streak across the clouds, like Isabel was holding her breath and it was waiting for her to exhale. Her hair floated up around her like she was lying on the surface of a lake. She trembled, but everything else was completely still. Then Isabel's eyes fluttered closed. Thunder crackled one last time, and she fell.

"Byoof!" Phineas yelled, wanting him to catch her. But Bufavalous didn't seem to hear him, and neither did Baljeetolus. For two warriors, two people who had been through so much, seen just about everything—they just stayed where they were, unable to move as Isabel crumbled into a heap on the ground. He wasn't sure she was breathing. He didn't know—anything. He didn't know what he just saw.

Ferb groaned again, and now Phineas forgot all about Isabel. Tears blocked his vision, and Phineas cursed himself, because for those seconds he spent watching the fairy he forgot one crucial fact: Ferb was hurt.

Ferb was covered in blood, and he was staring, but Phineas wasn't sure he was seeing anymore, and all Phineas was doing was holding him. He was covered with Ferb's blood. His brother was dying in his arms.

Review, please!

I promise I still love you.

~Lilly-Belle