Mabel stumbled into Morrigan's clearing wearing a fresh pair of yoga pants and her shooting star turtleneck sweater, her hair still wet from her shower. She shrugged her backpack off and let it fall to the ground.

Morrigan looked up from the book she was reading at her tea table, her lips curling upward almost imperceptibly. "You look a little damp, my Magpie. Vale told me you were having trouble extricating yourself from the companionship a certain red-haired nature goddess—yet here you are. Do tell me what transpired."

Mabel sighed and shook her head. She grabbed her backpack by one of its shoulder straps, and dragged it over to the table, where she took a seat across from Morrigan.

"Wendy kept insisting we hang out all afternoon. She wanted to go straight to lunch, but I managed to convince her I needed a shower first. That part was easy, because I really did." Mabel bent over to open the backpack and pulled out a granola bar, unwrapping it as she continued speaking. "I got a super quick shower while Wendy waited downstairs, and when I was done, I left the shower running so she'd think I was still in it. Then I got dressed and grabbed a couple granola bars from my snack stash, since I haven't had lunch, and snuck down the stairs and out the door while Wendy was in the kitchen talking to Melody."

Morrigan nodded with approval as Mabel tore ravenously into her granola bar. "Well done, love. However, once they realize you aren't actually still in the shower, they will probably be quite put out with you. They may have a few questions for you when you return. I suggest you come up with some believable answers. In fact, that leads me to the topic of your first lesson. It is an ancient magic, still often practiced, albeit unknowingly, today, especially by those with great wealth, or in positions of power."

Mabel scooted forward in her chair, eager to begin. "Well?" she asked impatiently, then blushed, mentally chiding herself. She didn't want to offend the Phantom Queen by suggesting the goddess was taking things too slowly.

Morrigan's lips curved upward at Mabel's outburst. "The magic I'll be teaching you today is the magic of The Lie."

Mabel frowned. "But..." she trailed off, blushing again.

"Now, now, my little magpie, none of that," said Morrigan, waggling a slender, white finger at Mabel. "I am your teacher, and you my student. I encourage you to speak your opinion and ask questions. It is part of the learning process. What is your concern?"

"It's just," Mabel spoke slowly, trying to choose her words carefully. "So you're going to teach me to lie? No offense intended, but I know how to lie. Everyone does. It's not exactly a secret." She looked down at her hands and crumpled the empty granola bar wrapper in her fist. "I was hoping to learn actual magic."

Morrigan was quiet for a moment, and Mabel looked up, worried she'd made the goddess angry. Instead, her gaze was met with a wide grin.

"It's been so long since I visited the Mundane," she remarked. "I'd nearly forgotten how naive humans tend to be. Oh, don't sulk, dear, it's not good for your posture." She stood and stretched her limbs luxuriously, before offering a hand to Mabel. "Walk with me, little bird, and I will explain."

Mabel reached out and took Morrigan's hand, pulling away quickly once she was on her feet. The goddess's hand was ice cold, like frozen marble. If Morrigan noticed Mabel's involuntary shudder, she gave no indication. Instead she walked toward the edge of the clearing, and the trees directly in front of her seemed to shift, revealing a trail that had not been there before. It was wide enough for two people to walk side by side, so Mabel trotted forward until she could keep pace with her new mentor.

"When I said I would teach you the magic of The Lie," Morrigan began, "I didn't mean those little fibs you mortals tell each other, which are easily found out. The Lie is bigger than that. There is power in language, Mabel, as I'm sure you're aware. What you are not aware of is that when language is manipulated with intention, by someone with sufficient will, the Liar is able to re-shape reality in the mind of the Lied to."

Mabel stopped in her tracks and swallowed hard. "That-that sounds a lot like brainwashing."

Morrigan turned to face Mabel, and shook her head. "Absolutely not. Brainwashing is not magic. Brainwashing conditions the recipient to accept a falsehood as true. A 'capital L' Lie does more than that. When you Lie, your falsehood becomes the new reality—at least for the person or persons being Lied to. The Liar, however, retains the truth of the original reality, as well as knowledge of the reality created by The Lie."

Mabel blinked. "Doesn't that mess people up? Playing around in their brain and making things real that weren't real to begin with? And wouldn't they figure out something's up when you Lie to them, and suddenly their memories change?"

"It is not as simple as all that," Morrigan said. She turned and began walking again, with Mabel trailing slightly behind her. "An advanced Liar doesn't even have to speak the Lie. Their intentions become reality without being put into words."

Mabel rubbed the bridge of her nose. She was beginning to get a headache. "So someone can be Lied to without the Liar even speaking to them?"

Morrigan clapped her hands slowly and tilted her head to the sky. "She's beginning to get it! That is exactly correct, my magpie. And your lesson today will be to create a Lie that explains why you left the shower running and snuck out earlier. Let's go back to the clearing now. We will sit and meditate, and I will help you create a new reality for your friends."

Mabel bit her lip, trying to hide her unease. She was mad at Wendy, but she didn't want to mess about in her sister-in-law's brain. As if sensing Mabel's hesitation, Morrigan placed a hand on her mentee's shoulder and smiled reassuringly.

"A Lie is always powerful, but that doesn't mean it can't be minor," she said, giving Mabel's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "You won't be creating an entire new reality, so much as editing the current one. Your friend will be fine."

/

Deep within Yggdrasil, Dipper squinted at the figure approaching them, even as Fenris kept pushing him back down the tunnel. "What do you mean he's supposed to be dead?" he whispered. "Is he like, a zombie god or something? Is that even a thing?"

"Shut up," Fenris hissed quietly.

"You know, I can hear you," Baldur called out, a playful lilt to his voice. "And no, I am not a zombie god. Please, show yourselves. I mean you no harm."

Fenris stopped pushing Dipper backward, although neither did he move toward the figure still heading in their direction.

"Aw, he sounds nice," Dipper said, in a louder whisper. "Why's he got you so spooked, Fen?"

Before Fenris could answer, Baldur sped up and held out his torch to get a look at them. Or, what Dipper had thought was a torch. As its golden glow dimmed slightly, Dipper realized that it was just the god's clenched fist. Without the bright light causing him to squint, Dipper got a better look at Baldur while the god stared at him and Fen with curiosity.

When his eyes landed on the god's face, Dipper's heart skipped a beat, and he felt a lump form in his throat. Baldur was the most beautiful person he'd ever laid eyes on. His features were sharp and defined, like he'd been chiseled from marble, and his deep blue eyes were warm and friendly, although his full lips were parted slightly, as if he'd been about to ask a question and stopped himself. His long, golden hair fell about his shoulders, and he ran his non-glowing hand through it in apparent confusion.

"Fen?" he repeated Dipper's last word softly, his gaze resting on Fenris's face. "You seem familiar, and that name...but… Do I know you?"

For some reason, Dipper felt compelled to tell this beautiful man the truth. "Yeah! He's really Fen—OW!" Fenris had kicked him in the shin, and was glaring at him. Dipper blinked, stupidly. Then it occurred to him that he and Fenris were not supposed to be there—especially not Fenris—and he had almost given them away. Dipper coughed awkwardly and shifted from hoof to hoof.

Baldur turned his intense gaze back onto Dipper. "What were you saying?" he asked, his voice gentle. "You said he's really Fen—but then he kicked you." Dipper clamped his lips shut hard, and bit his inner cheek. Why did he feel so compelled to tell Baldur the truth?

"Fen," Fenris's voice cracked when he spoke up quietly, and he coughed to clear his throat before continuing. "Fenjamin. Is my real name. Like-like Benjamin, but with an F. And no, you don't know me. This is my friend Di...Dingus. He's a bit brain damaged. Gets confused."

Dipper was still staring in adoration at Baldur's perfect face, so it took a moment for Fenris's words to register. He shot his friend a look. "Dingus? Brain damaged?" He wanted to say more, but Baldur began speaking.

"Fen...jamin," he said thoughtfully, his lips twitching at the corners. "Of course. What else could Fen possibly be short for? Well, it is a pleasure to meet you, Fenjamin, Dingus," he said, nodding to each of them in turn. "I am Baldur, and you are in my basement. Sort of. I don't know where you're going, but you must come up and join me and my wife, Nanna, for a meal."

"Food?" Dipper said eagerly. It felt like an eternity since they'd eaten rabbit stew in Erik the Blue's hut.

Fenris shot Dipper a sidelong glance, then shook his head as he addressed Baldur. "Thank you for the offer, but we wouldn't want to impose—"

"Nonsense!" said Baldur, smiling widely. "It is no trouble at all, really. I insist! Come, the entrance to Breidablik is just ahead." He turned and began walking, lifting his glowing fist into the air to light the way. Dipper eagerly started forward, but quickly realized Fenris was still rooted in place behind him.

"C'mon, Fen, free food! And he's so pretty, like how in the hell?" Then he noticed how pinched Fenris's features were, and the look of fear in his friend's eyes. "Why are you shaking?"

The light ahead of them stopped moving, as Baldur waited for them to catch up.

/

Fenris took a shuddering breath. "He knows it's me." And he's going to cage me again, or kill me, he wanted to add. He hadn't counted on Baldur still being alive. His death was supposed to be one of the portents of Ragnarok, just as Fenrir escaping his bonds was. But Fenrir hadn't really escaped his bonds—Bacon...Puck had set him free. Everything was wrong and out of order.

And now Baldur was insisting that Fenris and Dipper join him for a meal in his hall, Breidablik. A magnificent dwelling of white marble, where nothing evil or unclean could exist. That had to be Baldur's plan—to have his house somehow magically trap or kill Fenris, as soon as he stepped foot inside. Fenris opened his mouth to try and explain the situation to Dipper, but the glowing golden light started bobbing back down the tunnel toward them.

"What's keeping you?" Baldur asked. "You're obviously hungry—or, at least Dingus is."

"Coming," Dipper called over his shoulder. He reached out and grabbed Fen's arm. "And he can't possibly know it's you, Fenjamin. No one here knows you can shapeshift."

Fenris sighed and allowed himself to be led. "If I die, you know Mabel will never forgive you, right?"

Dipper snorted. "You're not going to die. He's offering us food."

Fenris didn't respond. There was no point. Dipper was too caught up with Baldur's charm. Fen was immune. He'd grown up with Baldur around. In fact, before his betrayal and binding by the Aesir, he'd been fond of the god. He really was incredibly pleasant to be around, and so good. And he gave great behind-the-ear scritches. When the other gods bound Fenrir, Baldur hadn't joined them in the act—but by not trying to reason with the other Aesir, he'd betrayed Fen just as much as the gods who tricked him. And now it seemed that Baldur somehow saw through Fenris's ruse, and was toying with him.

Fenris's train of thought was interrupted when Dipper halted directly in front of him. Baldur stood a few paces away, next to an intricately carved door in the side of the tunnel. He slowly pushed the door open, and bright, warm light spilled into the passageway.

"Welcome to Breidablik," Baldur said, with a charming, toothy grin.

"Whoa," breathed Dipper, as he stepped forward, and over the threshold with no hesitation whatsoever.

Baldur still held the door open, and waved Fenris in. "After you, Fenjamin."

Fenris didn't move. He studied Baldur's face. The god of light, joy, purity, beauty, and innocence smiled at him warmly. Fenris could see no hint of deception in his eyes. Was the god of innocence even capable of deceit? Was Fenris just being paranoid?

Either way, that didn't change the fact that Breidablik was not a safe place for a monster such as he to enter.

"Is something the matter?" asked Baldur, his brow creasing with concern. "You seem...scared?"

Fenris willed himself to smile, but the corners of his lips only gave the smallest hint of twitching upward. "Is what they say about Breidablik true?" he asked. "That nothing evil or unclean can exist within?"

Baldur nodded. "It is. Why? Are you evil?"

Fenris involuntarily jerked back at the question, asked so openly, and seemingly only out of curiosity. "Wha—evil? Am-am I evil?" he stammered. His whole life he'd been treated as if he was. As if he wanted to cause Ragnarok. As if he would take pleasure in fulfilling the prophecy and killing the All-Father, Odin. But Fenris didn't want those things. Yes, he was built to destroy. But the prophecy didn't give him a chance to choose what, or who he wanted to destroy. However, the prophecy was out the window now, thanks to Puck. For the first time, Fenris was able to choose who he wanted to be.

"No," Fenris said resolutely. "I'm not evil." He walked forward, hoping that his own resolve to be good would be enough for Breidablik to allow him to continue to exist. As he paused at the threshold, looking into the bright, warm hall, Baldur placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Of course you're not," Baldur said quietly. "You never were evil… Fenrir."

/

Mabel wandered slowly through the woods, not keen to attempt her first Lie. Morrigan had led her through an hours-long guided meditation, and finally, as the late-afternoon sunlight began to glow a dusky orange-gold, she had deemed her pupil ready to head home and Lie.

She was nearly to the Mystery Shack before Mabel thought to turn her cell phone back on. She'd turned it off before running off to Morrigan's clearing earlier, not wanting to be bothered by her phone being blown up. And blown up it was. As soon as the phone picked up a signal, it began repeatedly pinging Mabel's text message and voicemail notifications. Wendy had called at least eight times, left four messages, and about a dozen texts. Beithe, Melody, Soos, and even her Grunkles had tried to get ahold of her as well.

Mabel swallowed back the lump of guilt rising in her throat, and tried to focus on what Morrigan had taught her. It was her right to leave earlier, and she'd had a good reason. She had tried to politely get out of going to lunch with Wendy, but neither Wendy, nor Beithe, would accept her no for an answer. Mabel only did what she was forced to do.

Mabel was so focused on her Lie, that she didn't notice the green and red blur barreling toward her as she stepped into the clearing where the Mystery Shack sat. Wendy rammed into Mabel with such force that the two almost fell over. At first Mabel thought she was under attack, but then she realized that Wendy's arms were wrapped tightly around her in a hug, not some kind of martial arts hold. And Wendy was… Wendy was crying?

Mabel patted Wendy awkwardly on the back, trying to push back at the guilt that was beginning to fill her chest.

"Where—were—you?" Wendy gasped out between sobs. "Couldn't—reach...thought you—kidnapped!"

Mabel took a deep breath and disengaged herself from Wendy's grasp, preparing herself to Lie for the first time. However, before she could speak, the screen door of the Mystery Shack flew open, banging harshly against the cedar siding. Out marched Grunkle Stan, followed shortly by Beithe, Grunkle Ford, Soos, and Melody.

"Where the hell have you been?" shouted Stanley. Mabel visibly flinched. Grunkle Stan had never yelled at her before, let alone cursed at her. Ford stepped up next to his twin and laid a hand on Stan's shoulder.

"What he means, Mabel," Ford said gently, "is that we've been worried sick about you. Did you leave the shower on and sneak out on purpose?" he asked, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion as he noticed the backpack slung over her shoulders. "We were scared you'd been taken..." Ford trailed off, and the look of hurt in his eyes almost broke Mabel.

"I—I didn't," stammered Mabel, her composure gone. "I mean, I..." She felt her chin quivering. This was not the plan. How was she ever going to prove herself worthy of being Morrigan's pupil if she couldn't even tell one small Lie?

Wendy sniffled, and stared at Mabel, her tear-filled, green eyes bloodshot. "If you didn't want to hang out with me, you could have just said."

"I tried to, at the Gravnemeta, but you wouldn't listen—neither of you!" she said, glancing to Beithe.

Wendy looked like she had been punched in the gut, and Beithe put her arm around her daughter protectively.

"Mabel, dude, that's not cool," Soos spoke up. "You had us all really worried, dawg."

"What has gotten into you?" Beithe asked, still trying to comfort a woebegone Wendy. "You've been acting very strange… very aloof. And Mabel, we know you lied to Wendy about why you were late this morning. She stopped by the shack to pick you up, and Melody said you'd already left."

Mabel opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She'd only expected to have to Lie to Wendy...maybe Beithe. She didn't know she was going to be confronted by everyone. She hadn't prepared for this.

The wind whispered through the trees, rustling pine needles, as Mabel stared at her friends and family in silence. They all looked so hurt and disappointed in her. But she was the one who had been hurt—by Wendy. Blood rushed to her cheeks as she remembered the conversation she'd overheard the other day.

"You wanna know why I don't want to be around you?" Mabel asked Wendy, her voice louder than she meant it to be. "It's because I heard you. The other day, at the Gravnemeta, when you and Beithe killed that scorpion monster. I was coming to talk to you, and then you," she said, jabbing a finger in Wendy's direction, "you started talking about me and Fenris. How I'm 'just a mortal' that you have to 'babysit,' and you're only hanging out with me as a favor to Dipper, and everything is Fen's fault."

Mabel took a deep breath, her chest heaving in anger. Someone, it sounded like one of the Grunkles, muttered "Yikes."

The blood had drained from Wendy's face, and she stared at Mabel, her mouth slightly open.

"You two need to work this out," said Beithe. She stepped away from her daughter, and motioned for the other adults to head back into the Mystery Shack with her.

Mabel crossed her arms and leaned back against a tree trunk. "What, you got nothin' to say now that I'm in front of you?"

Wendy took a deep breath, but when she opened her mouth, all that came out was a harsh cough. She cleared her throat and tried again.

"Mabel, I—you… you weren't supposed to hear that."

"Clearly," Mabel spat, "since you said it while you thought I wasn't there."

Wendy shook her head. "No, I mean—I was just in a bad mood, and venting to my mom. You know venting, right? Something teenagers do when they're frustrated, but don't necessarily mean what they're saying?"

"Oh, that's convenient," remarked Mabel, with a roll of her eyes. "You felt fine about saying it when you thought I couldn't hear you, but now you're saying you didn't mean it?"

Wendy sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Look, I'm sorry Mabel. Not only for you overhearing what I said, but about saying it in the first place. I was just really missing Dipper, and looking for someone to blame. I know none of this is Fen's fault. He'd be here with you if he had a choice."

Mabel's features softened slightly, but then she narrowed her eyes. "And what about ragging on me just being a mortal, and you having to babysit me?"

Wendy looked down at her hands. "I didn't mean that I think you're weak, or anything. I just really worry about you. You kick some serious ass, but you are only mortal, and have been seriously hurt several times while protecting the Gravnemeta. I could never forgive myself if you," she cut herself off and swallowed hard. "Dipper would be… and I would be..." Wendy's voice quavered.

Mabel quirked an eyebrow and tapped her foot impatiently. "Care to spit it out?"

Wendy's head shot back up and Mabel was surprised to see fresh tears pooling at the inner corners of her eyes. "Mabel, you realize I love you, right? Like, you're the sister I never had. You aren't just 'Dipper's twin' to me. You're family. Even before Dipper and I handfasted, you were my family. And it scares the shit out of me that you're supposed to be the one to keep the Gravnemeta safe. You're badass, and I know you're giving it your all—but Mabel, from an immortal perspective, you're so incredibly fragile. All mortals are! And monsters, demons, and gods—gods, Mabel!—are attacking the Gravnemeta. And I just worry that something terrible will happen to you, and I'll be helpless to stop it."

Mabel felt her chin begin to quiver as she processed Wendy's words. They sounded plausible… and she wanted to believe they were the truth. She stepped forward and flung her arms around Wendy's neck, her tears trickling down onto green flannel-clad shoulders. Wendy reciprocated, squeezing her tightly.

Mabel had never considered that Wendy's words could be taken that way. She'd just automatically jumped to anger, and Morrigan had encouraged it.

Morrigan… had encouraged it.

For the first time since Mabel met the Phantom Queen, she began to really question the reason Morrigan didn't want her to tell anyone that she was Mabel's new mentor. Normally she'd confide in Dipper about something like this, but he wasn't available. Wendy was.

Mabel pulled away from the redhead, sniffled, and squared her shoulders. "Wendy, I need to tell you something important. I—" Before she could say anything else, she was interrupted by a loud crow's caw coming from the forest behind her.

"You…?" Wendy prompted with a small smile.

Mabel glanced back toward the trees, and saw what she expected to. The silhouette of a large crow sitting in the lower branches of a pine tree, its head cocked to the side, its beady, black eyes staring at her intently.

Mabel coughed and laughed awkwardly. She put a hand on Wendy's shoulder and turned her, steering her back toward the Mystery Shack.

"I," Mabel began again, "am starving. Lets order pizza!"

Mabel glanced back toward the forest one more time before entering the Shack. The crow still sat in the tree, its eyes glittering at her in the twilight.