Zim felt around a small area for a moment before he found the trapdoor, which he pulled open quite easily. Girgant, who had been quiet during his master's search, squealed with delight as the cold air rushed out at them. Gaz shuddered and clutched the trench coat tighter about her body.
"Well?" Zim asked, blinking at his companions. "Are we going in?"
"How do we know that there's not something in there that's going to eat us, or possibly kill us in some other horrible way?" Gaz demanded, her amber eyes narrow and angry.
Zim laughed. "We don't! That's the fun of it!"
And with that, the Irken swung himself up and onto the neatly shoveled path of the snow globe's stone house. Dib shrugged and scrambled after him, and Gaz came next, although she groaned reluctantly before she started climbing. "I just escaped almost certain death yesterday…I'm not in the mood to go asking for trouble," she mumbled, folding her arms across her chest.
The snow felt soft and cold against Dib's skin as he walked; a new experience after the warm rains of Simartia. He looked up at the clouds, wondering briefly if they were real or just illusions of the strange structure that they were in. They swooped and churned as the snow fell upon the travelers' heads.
Did somebody dream this snow? Did they imagine it before it was solid? Or did they see it, like my rain? Was it only there for them?
Dib turned away from the clouds and the painful questions, rubbing the goosebumps off of his arms. Zim kicked the thin layer of snow aside, traipsing up to the door of the stone house as though it were his own. Behind him, Dib could hear Gaz murmuring spiteful things about Zim, but he made no gesture to show that he heard; Gaz deserved some privacy after being stalked for four days. So the human boy dashed forward, grabbing Zim's cape and pulling him back. The Irken glared.
"What do you want, human?" Zim sneered. "You smell bad, you know that? You smell like garbage in our clean world."
"I know, and I'm sorry," Dib growled. "I can't really control the way that I smell, though, now can I? I apologize for the fact that my species' odor is not suited to your tastes. Jesus! You know, you're very rude."
"Rude?!" Zim hissed, lashing around and grabbing Dib by the collar. He slammed his back against the rough wall of the house, making Dib's spine tingle in pain. "Look here, Dib…I've seen more in my life than you could ever imagine, you damned human…who are you to judge my pain?! You can't even remember what your own life was like before yesterday! You come along, trying to act like you're so tough…well, guess what, bastard? I'm not falling for it! Until you prove yourself, you're dirt in my eyes, got it, Dib?!"
"Zim, put him down, now!" Gaz yelled, giving Zim a good, hard shove. The Irken fell into the snow, his arms and legs sprawled out at his sides. He twitched and shuddered, kicking himself back into an upright position.
"Sorry," he muttered, brushing snow off of his outfit. He gave Dib another sour look as Gaz reached up and pulled on the great knockers, letting them swing back and alert the dweller of the house of their arrival.
"Hello?" Gaz called, squinting up at the windows in the upper level. "Whoever's in there…we won't hurt you! We just want to see you!"
Dib, drawing his eyes away from Zim, joined Gaz in looking to the windows, his eyes straining to find something foreign. They watched for about twenty seconds before an Irken head leaned out. Red eyes similar to Zim's blinked down at them, confused. This Irken was rounder than Zim or Takkit, though.
"Yes, what do you want?" he asked, his voice audibly nervous.
"We'd like to come in and visit with you for a while!" Zim called. Girgant waved. "We have money…if you have some food that you could give us, that would be nice, too…and possibly, could we ask for the use of your shower, good man?"
The Irken in the window pulled back for a moment out of shock, then stuck his head back out. "Oh, well, I suppose so…I mean, you do look rather tired…" Dib nodded in agreement. "I…err…well, all right, then. Come on in, the door's unlocked."
Gaz smiled at Zim as she pushed the door open. "See, Zim? I enjoy your company so much more when you're not scowling at everything and yelling."
Zim was quiet. He and Dib followed Gaz into the strange little house, neither of them looking in the other's general direction, or even thinking of doing so.
The house was vast and grandly decorated. Chandeliers carved out of pure diamond hung from every ceiling, the floors made only of the finest stone; smooth as metal. Swirling, swooping columns scaled the walls and supported the ceiling and the soft white stairs. Everything was white and holy looking, just like the snow. Even the fine paintings that decorated the walls were of pale women with white hair and white attire. The trio stared at everything, their eyes adjusting to the sudden shift in their environment slowly but surely. As they gawked, a small, white rabbit with a light blue bow tied to its right ear came bounding down the stairs, wielding a small tray. It stood before them on two feet, offering them the tea and biscuits upon its tray.
"Please!" the SIR squeaked, smiling pleasantly. "Master Spoon offers you this welcome, free of charge. The showers are up the stairs and to the left. Please stay as long as you wish."
"Thank you, dear," Gaz said, taking up her cup of tea. Dib and Zim quickly followed suit. "What's your name?"
"Master Spoon calls me 'Sonora'," the rabbit responded, turning bright blue eyes upon the female of their party. "You may call me by that name, as well, if you wish."
"All right then, Sonora," Zim said, allowing a smile to spread across his own face. "Could you tell your master that we would like to speak with him?"
"And I would like a shower," Gaz claimed. The rabbit nodded and took Gaz's hand, leading her back up the stairs with her. Sonora looked over her shoulder once.
"You may stay in the sitting room while you wait for my master to come!" she said. "It's right behind the stairs; feel free to look through one of the books! We have quite a vast library!"
Then she disappeared from view.
Dib ignored the Irken and walked into the sitting room as Sonora had suggested, stopping for a moment to view the room in full. All of the books had white bindings, upon which the titles were written in gold letters of a strange language. Zim pushed past Dib, glancing at one of the books. He set his tea down on a glass table, situated in the middle of the room and surrounded by many chairs of different shapes and sizes.
"Ah," he said, cocking his eyebrows. "They're written in the language of the Magi. I don't think humans can read that, unfortunately."
"No," Dib growled darkly, hiding his hands in his pockets as he wandered over to a huge white armchair. The human settled down in the fabric, gloating over his lack of intelligence while Zim picked out an interestingly-titled book and brought it back to his own seat. As Zim sat down to read, Dib sipped at his tea, trying to ignore the lovely feeling of calm that it spread throughout his body.
Twenty minutes later, Gaz had showered, and Dib was feeling better, the strange remedial tea having calmed his nerves. Girgant was sleeping quietly in Zim's lap, his master deeply involved with the book he had chosen from the shelves. Dib was lying with his eyes closed, his arms dangling off the sides of the chair; he was considering just letting his head loll back and taking a nap. Gaz watched him, amused.
He fights sleep well for someone his age, she thought, her fingertips pressed together in front of her face as she pondered. Her eyes narrowed cattily, and still Zim remained immersed in his book, unaware of the world around him. She looked at the title, mildly interested; Kigam'Kalb'fotra'Eht. The Art of Black Magic. He would read something like that, Gaz thought, smirking.
She glanced toward the door when something green caught her eye; it was the short, squat Irken who owned the Weatherball. He was wearing a faded yellow uniform, and his unsure eyes were accented by a small pair of spectacles. His antennae twitched uncertainly as he stepped forward, examining his guests. He wrung his small green hands as he settled into a chair, smiling weakly. "Welcome to my home," he said quietly. Sonora rushed in, presenting her master with a cup of tea. Her master took it gladly and sipped at it with shaking hands. Zim looked up from his book and slammed it when he realized who had come into the room.
"Thanks," he said quietly, setting his book down and picking up his tea. Gaz nodded.
"Yes, thank you," she said.
Dib blinked the sleep out of his eyes, looking at the bespectacled Irken. The fat creature had cast his big, curious gaze upon him. "Thanks for letting us into your home," Dib murmured, reaching for his tea. Sonora had refilled it for him.
Their host smiled weakly. "My name is Spoon. I apologize if I seem a bit fidgety…I always have problems around strangers."
"Oh, not at all!" Gaz laughed, grinning pleasantly at their new friend. She had tied her wet hair back into a ponytail for the time being, and from what Dib could see, Spoon had given her clean clothes similar to the ones she had been wearing before…or he had washed her other outfit for her. "We're very grateful toward you."
"Yes…this peppertea is very good, by the way," Zim commented, taking another sip. Spoon blushed slightly and grinned. Dib noticed that he had a few lopsided teeth.
"Ah, well…don't tell me, it's my mother's recipe. You should be thanking her," the Irken said, although Dib could tell that he was flattered. Spoon pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, taking a drink of his own tea.
"So…is this Weatherball yours?" Gaz asked, her face curious. Spoon nodded.
"Oh, yes. I love it, because I like the snow, and, well, you know…it hardly ever snows here," he said, licking tea off of his lips thoughtfully. "It takes me everywhere. I've been all over Zeuq'Sav."
"I'm jealous," Zim said, his eyes flashing. He cocked his eyebrows. "By the way…your name seems familiar. Do I know you from somewhere?"
Spoon bit his lips together, looking at his feet self-consciously. "Well…a lot of people know me from my name. My last name is Skrotchet…does that ring a bell?"
Gaz choked on her tea.
"Spoon Skrotchet? You mean…you're the Spoon Skrotchet?!" Zim asked, his eyes huge. "You're like, the most famous Irken in all of Zeuq'Sav! You…you journey around the world in your Weatherball, seeing all the sights, trading with whomever happens to stop by…you lead a glorious life! I mean…you practically own half of the Noom'ehtfo'Sreat economy! Why are you so nervous around us? If anything, we should be the nervous ones!"
Spoon almost dropped his tea. He looked away almost immediately, blush returning so easily to his face. He pushed his small glasses up the bridge of his invisible nose again. "I, well…you see," he stammered, "not to be rude or anything, but I…I've noticed that you three are quite an odd band. I know two of you by reputation…your names are Zimbrit and Ganazala. Zimbrit, Crimson's assassin; Takkit's been by here many times, asking if I've seen you. And Ganazala, well…your reputation is extremely appalling, even here in my solitary chateau."
Gaz smiled, sipping at her tea. Dib glanced at Zim, who was still gawking in utter disbelief.
"But you…" Spoon said, turning to Dib. "You smell and look like a human. Oh, the gods know how much trouble I'd get into if anyone ever found out that I had a human in my home and didn't alert the proper authorities about it!" Dib fidgeted uncomfortably. Spoon laughed. "Oh, don't worry, dear boy! I won't tell on you. Not on any of you. Believe me, I know more secrets than anybody else in the world, and I keep them all."
"That's very kind of you," Dib said, setting his empty teacup down.
"Yes, I suppose it is," Spoon murmured, his eyes narrowing. "But some people have come to take advantage of that. I've heard dark things; terrible things. Goings on in the Dark Country, if you know what I mean."
"Violet is plotting something?" Zim asked, leaning forward intently and making Girgant readjust himself to fit his cushion's new position. Spoon gave the trio a dark look.
"Always," he said, his tone mysterious. "Takkit has spoken of it before. I can't tell you what it is, though…the promise I make to you is a promise I make to everyone. If I break it for one person, I must break it for everyone."
"But this could mean the difference between life and death for the people of Nus'ehtfo'Sreat! Does that mean nothing to you?" Zim asked, making an obtuse gesture with his hands.
"Maybe he doesn't want to get involved," Gaz growled, looking at her friend. "If Crimson started to act suspiciously, Violet would trace his sources back to Spoon, here. That wouldn't be a good thing…even you know about Violet's torture, Zim."
Dib's eyes went from Spoon to Gaz. "Is it bad?" he queried.
Zim shuddered. "I've only been to his castle once, and I can still remember those horrible sounds."
"He implies every method of torture imaginable to the poor souls who dare to defy him," Gaz said. Spoon nodded gravely, his face starting to pale. "The sick part is that he gets pleasure out of seeing them all suffer. That's why Takkit chased me all the way back here, into Crimson's land. Violet hates me, and he wants to see me suffer."
"What are Crimson and Violet?" Dib mumbled. "I mean, I get the fact that they're the head honchos here, but what species are they? Are they human, Irken…what?"
"They're Irkens," Zim said. "Although they do have a bit of Angel blood in them, you know…to keep them alive. A Long Time Ago, they ruled Zeuq'Sav's greatest kingdom together, and there was no Nus'ehtfo'Sreat or Noom'ehtfo'Sreat. This island and the one across the sea were two parts of a whole kingdom, which was called Nevaeh'fo'Seye'Eht."
Gaz sighed, nostalgia flashing in her eyes. "I remember Nevaeh…it was a beautiful place, always full of wonder. I loved it so…and my mother told me that someday she dreamed of living there."
"You mean…you didn't grow up on either one of the islands?" Dib asked, a little surprised. Gaz smiled weakly.
"Oh, no…I grew up on Seraph's Isle, with the Angels," she said. "Things were beautiful there, too…but I liked Nevaeh better, because I've always liked the Irkens." Zim and Spoon both smiled. "But anyway, about Crimson and Violet…they were great friends, and fantastic rulers. But Violet always preferred black magic to white magic, and for Crimson, it was the other way around. So they constantly argued over which one was better, and, ultimately, they split the kingdom into two parts and never spoke directly again."
"That was sixty-nine years ago," Spoon said quietly. "Exactly one year after the installation of the Veil workers."
"I've always wondered…do you think that the lack of human contact made them so angry with each other?" Zim asked. "I mean…they never really fought before then…and Crimson does have many books about humans…"
"It's very likely that the case is just that," Gaz said, leaning forward excitedly. She brushed her bangs out of her face. "When I was in Violet's palace once, I saw that he had a map of Simartia, right next to his map of Zeuq'Sav. Still! Even after seventy years! Tell me that that's not obsession, and I'll laugh at you."
"Splitting a kingdom apart simply because of a disagreement," Dib murmured, shaking his head. "The world has lost it."
"The world never had it," Zim snickered sadly. The others nodded in morose agreement, not knowing quite what to say…and when Sonora came in to refill the teacups fifteen minutes later, she was greeted by silence.
The snow fell softly outside.