A.N.: Characters and locations appearing in this chapter and the next created by Alex Hirsch and Dana Terrace and © Disney. Some spoilers for Season 1 of The Owl House.
Chapter 39
Another World
A dimension separate from but adjacent to our own
-PHOEBE-
It seemed insane on the surface of it, even given all my friends and I had experienced over the past few years, but… here I was. In an entirely different world.
On the surface, some aspects seemed familiar. Some of the architecture in this strange city wasn't to dissimilar from something you could find in some of the older European cities, but right next to, say, a Regency-style building, you would find a domicile that looked like it was crafted from the bones and skin of a dead dragon. Here, a cottage like something you'd see in a fairytale, there, a literal giant ogre hand jutting out of the ground. There, a gothic-style cathedral… with eyes and huge pointy teeth. It was like a mishmash of quaintness and nightmares.
And, like the décor, so too were the (if the term could be applied in all cases) people. Some were, apart from pointy ears and unusual hair and eye color, barely distinguishable from humans; others, however… skin shades in every color of the rainbow, facial features in any quantity and arrangement imaginable (I spotted at least one pedestrian whose face consisted only of a single giant eye), people with extra arms and legs, people with horns, tails, wings… and that was just the humanoids. There were centaurs, giant spider-people, ambulatory blobs of eyeballs, at least one disembodied nose with wings, and something that resembled a pink monkey with a spiny turtle shell.
I fit right in.
Where I came from, if I was just strolling around out in the open in my mutant form, as I was doing, I'd just be inviting stares from every gawking bystander around. Here, though, I was normal. Because nobody here was normal. It was kind of liberating, actually.
This particular area seemed to be a large public thoroughfare. Vendors hawked merchandise and foodstuffs of all sorts to the eclectic passersby. It was honestly not too dissimilar from the weekly Hillwood Farmers' Market, except that it looked like some of the food could wind up eating you if you weren't careful.
With so many strange and wonderful and occasionally terrifying sights to see, it was easy to forget that I was here on a mission. The person I was supposed to get in touch with would most easily be found here, or so Bridget's supernatural consultant had said. So, I was to be on the lookout for-
My train of thought was interrupted by the sound of an object headed toward me at great velocity. Out of the corner of my eye, it appeared to be a large ball, similar to one of the basket- or volley-variety. Reflexively, I caught it in my lower-left hand. It felt strange, almost like it was made of living skin instead of treated leather or rubber. I risked a glance at it and found an eye, on the ball, looking back at me, almost startling me into dropping it.
A child… I think… ran up, looking… again, I think, as its face was just one huge red fanged maw. "CAN I HAVE MY GRUDGEBY BALL BACK PLEASE, LADY?" it said, in a deep, sepulchral voice.
"Uh… sure…" I said, gingerly handing the odd orb back to the little… boy?
"YAY!" the child cheered, beginning to run back to where several other child-sized creatures were playing, before being halted by its… mom?
"WHAT DO WE SAY, BRAXUS?" the mother chided.
"THANK YOU, LADY," the child answered, looking as abashed as someone who had no facial features other than a giant toothy mouth possibly could. They really were kind of cute… in a horrifying way.
"Don't mention it," I said. Literally. That voice was absolutely chilling.
Right. Where was I? Oh yes… it all started shortly after the Monkeyman incident…
It had been less than a day since the Monkey King's crown had been turned over to Bridget's storage squad when she finally heard back from her special supernatural consultant. He was a notoriously difficult man to get a hold of as he didn't trust most reliable means of communication. Your best bet was to get in touch with one of the people he was known to regularly correspond with and hope for the best. At least this time there had been a relatively short turnover (all things considered) between Bridget putting out feelers and the consultant finally getting in touch. He had agreed to meet in person at a small diner just outside town.
We commandeered a table (not that there was much competition at the hour); the waitress on duty eyed us suspiciously but otherwise said nothing as she too our order of three coffees, one tea, and a plate of biscuits and gravy (Helga wasn't one to pass up diner food). And then we waited.
The consultant, a gentleman in his late sixties, rough but somewhat attractive in a scholarly way, clad in a grey duster, scarf, and spectacles, and carrying a leather satchel. If you looked closely, you could see that he had one very unusual physical trait; he had an extra finger on both hands.
"'Bout time you showed up," grumbled Helga through a mouthful of biscuit.
"Helga!" Lila scolded. Naturally, as she owed her very corporeality to the newcomer. In truth, the very fact that the four of us could sit here, out in the open, looking like everyone else, was in part thanks to this man.
"It's all right," Stanford Pines replied. "I'm well aware that I'm not the easiest man to get in touch with."
"Eh, she's right," Helga apologized. "I've still got this whole thing where rudeness is my go-to, and I really need to work on that."
"It's part of your charm," I assured.
"Not sure I'd use that word," Rhonda interjected. Helga reflexively shot her a look before relenting, knowing the teasing came from a place of love. "So, I take it you have something to tell us, since you don't seem like the kind of person who wastes time."
"Indeed," he said. "I've taken the liberty of studying those artifacts you acquired. They all seem to originate from a single source. During my otherdimensional travels, not too long before returning to this dimension, in fact, I spent some time in a realm known locally as 'The Boiling Isles,' It's a reality where natural laws are based around magic, rather than science. Creatures that are mythical here are commonplace there. Also giraffes, for some reason.
"While in that dimension, I made the acquaintance of a local sorceress, who promised that she could get me back to my own dimension in return for aiding her in the heist of a magical object. I never did find out whether she would have been able to keep her word, because during the heist, one of the local ruler's own sorcerers banished me to a realm much further away from this one. It would be years before my brother was able to pull me back to Earth."
"That's quite a story," I said. "And I am to take it the artifacts can be traced back to that realm?'
"I'm not entirely certain," he admitted, "but I'd seen items whose craftsmanship were very similar back there. If you're looking for answers as to the identity of your mystery shopkeeper, that's the most likely place to find them."
"That's all well and good," Rhonda pointed out, "but how exactly would we even get there?"
"Fortunately, the Boiling Isles is one of the less difficult dimensions to get to. Still not easy, mind you, but not requiring nothing on the level of sacrificing your first-born child."
"Should I be concerned by how casually you just said that?" asked Lila.
"Probably. Now, by sheer lucky coincidence, one of the nexi where the Boiling Isles can be reached from this dimension is located quite near this town, on Elk Island. I understand a number of local legends and superstitions center on that particular location, don't they?"
"Pretty much," agreed Helga.
"Many of the local native tribes regarded the island, and by extension the neighboring area, as a place of great magical power. This is in part due to the presence of said dimensional nexus. There are some lesser nexi, like the one underneath your former elementary school, in the vicinity, but Elk Island is the proverbial mother lode." He reached into his pocket. "You should be able to activate it using this magic totem."
"It looks like a key," Lila stated.
"Hmm. I suppose it does. Rather appropriate." He handed it over. "It only works during the full moon, so once you get there, you'll have a limited amount of time to get back, or else you'll be stuck there for an entire month.
"All right," Helga said. "We'll all meet on Elk Island on the night of the full moon…"
"Actually, the key will only work for the holder," Ford clarified. "No one can go or come back with her."
"Well, that's awfully inconvenient," remarked Rhonda irritably.
"I don't make the rules, I only list them," Ford replied.
"So… which one of us will go?"
"Oooh!" I raised my hand.
"You sure, Pheebs?" Helga asked.
"Emphatically," I responded. "The chance to explore a completely alien realm? How could I possibly pass up such an opportunity? Besides… with all the studying I've been doing lately, I feel like I've been slacking on the hero front."
"All right," Ford replied, handing over the satchel. "The artifacts are in this bag, which has been lined with mystic runes to prevent their detection by prying eyes. The 'key' will glow brighter the closer you are to the location of the portal. You will be deposited on a small island near the main landmass… though 'landmass' is a bit of a misnomer, as the Isles are in fact the remains of a massive creature called the Titan.
"Oh, like in 'Cryptosword,'" Rhonda guessed. "Nadine's been LP'ing it."
"…yes, well," continued Ford. "The main city on the Boiling Isles is called Bonesboro. The woman you are looking for runs a stall in the marketplace there. Her name is Edalyn Clawthorne, but everyone calls her 'The Owl Lady.' Not that you should ask around, as she has something of a checkered reputation. Still, if you manage to earn her trust, she can be a valuable ally. One more thing… you may want to stick to your natural form there. The Isles can be dangerous, and you'll want to be at your peak while there."
"But won't I attract undue attention looking like that?"
"Trust me… it won't be a problem."
Ford gave me a crash course on what I could expect while in the realm. Above all, he cautioned me not to attract the attention of the Emperor's Guard. From what I gleaned from the briefing, they were an oppressive force in Boiling Isles society, enforcing the will of its despotic leader, Emperor Belos – but, that was not really my concern, however it gnawed at my sense of decency; I was there to deal with the shopkeeper problem, not get involved in local politics.
To aid in fitting in, the girls had cobbled together an outfit for me that Ford confirmed would sufficiently pass for local garb (though likely years out of fashion). And so far, it was working. No one had even spared me a second glance. I was all but invisible to the locals, and that included the hulking men (?) in hooded tunics and plague-doctor-esque masks. The aforementioned Emperor's Guard.
I slipped my phone out of my pocket to check the timer I'd set. It was counting down the time I had left to get back to the portal. 21 hours. Even counting the time it would take me to fly back, I still had plenty of time. Hopefully I wouldn't have to actually have a meal here. Rotten candy, screech-kabobs, and Franken-furters (stitched and bolted together from multiple sausages of already dubious origin) did not sound appetizing. No, I was not here to sample the local quease-ine, I was here to find this Edalyn Clawthorne. And while I'd been told that asking directly about her was probably not a good idea, it wouldn't hurt to drop a subtle hint, would it? Of course it wouldn't. Thusly, I prepared to launch Operation Subtlety, by "accidently" jostling the nearest bystander with my wing.
The bystander, a teenage girl with three eyes, violet hair, and the standard pointy ears, scowled. "Watch where you're going, squoob," she snarled.
"I beg your pardon…" I apologized. "I wasn't looking where I was going."
"No kidding," she replied bitingly. "I swear, it must be loser day at the market."
Her companion, who I suppose would be coded "African-American" if such a thing as Africa or America existed here, and would easily have passed for human other than her two-tone black-and-white hair and the obligatory ears, chuckled at her putdown. "Boscha, you're terrible," she remarked. I groaned inwardly. High School Mean Girls. They were universal, apparently. But, once again, I was not here to get involved in local politics… school or otherwise.
I took a deep breath. "Again, I apologize. It was entirely my fault. I was simply distracted. You see, I'd heard of a stall where one can obtain unusual objects. I hear it even has items from as far away as the human world."
Boscha scoffed. "Why would anyone want that kind of junk?"
"Well, I've heard some of that… junk… can be pretty kooky. My uncle, Gargaflar the Unrelenting, is really into collecting kitsch like that."
"Whatever," the teen triclops dismissed. "You want the Owl Lady. She usually sets up near the corner of Belphegor and Asmodean. Next to the curse rental place. Good luck, by which I mean I don't care." She and her sidekick strode off.
Some more casual questioning elicited the location of the sought intersection. I arrived to find a small crowd gathered around a stall, where a middle-aged, yet somehow ageless, woman in a dark red dress with a wild mane of grey hair hawked her wares.
"Come one, come all!" she spieled. "Feast your eyes on the treasures of another realm!" She held up one of those wind-up cymbal-clanging monkeys. "Behold, this ferocious beast… enthralled by human means into a simple musician. A bargain at only three snails, or your best offer. Anyone? Anyone?"
The observers seemed unimpressed and for the most part, began to drift away (literally in the case of a ghost). Only a few, mostly looking to be in their younger teens, remained. One, a darker-skinned one of the local generic pointy-eared humanoids, seemed genuinely interested. His companion, a bespectacled "Asian" (which again was simply a label of convenience, since, like Africa and America, Asia did not exist here) girl with dark green hair, seemed less so.
The woman, her view no longer obstructed by even a meager crowd, now took notice of me and my apparent interest. "Hey, you! With the everything! What can I do get you into some genuine human garb- uh, relics? Perhaps you'd be interested in this tablet computer?" She held up what was clearly a Scratch-n'-Sketch. "Five snails."
"Hmm… well, that would be quite a deal for a tablet. Unfortunately, this is, in fact, a childrens' drawing toy. Behold. You draw horizontally with this knob, vertically with the other, and erase simply by shaking it," I said, demonstrating each function.
"Whoa…" the boy said. "How did you know how it works?"
The older woman raised an eyebrow. "Yes," she said rubbing her chin. "How did you. I know pretty much everyone who's ever been to the human realm, but I've never seen you before."
Curse my need to inform! I had potentially outed myself already. And yet… odds were this woman was exactly who I was looking for. I decided it was time to take a chance. "You wouldn't happen to be Edalyn Clawthorne, would you?"
"That depends," she said suspiciously. "Did my ex-husband send you?" Her eyes narrowed. "Or was it my ex-wife?" she asked, a little more nervous.
"Neither… I think…" I said.
"Whew," she said, relieved. "Those divorces were not amicable."
In for a penny, in for a pound. "Stanford Pines sent me, actually…"
The woman's suspicious expression softened. "Ol' Fordy survived, huh? I had a feeling that egghead would pull out a win. He's too crafty to die. Where'd you two meet, anyway?"
"Earth," I said.
"So he finally made it back. Good for him." She paused. "Wait… are you saying you're from Earth?"
"I told you humans came in blue, Willow!" the boy said. "You owe me ten snails!"
"It's true," I said. "I am a human… at least, I was born one. Long story."
"Lemme guess… curse? I have a little bit of a history with those. For the right price, I might be able to undo it. Is that why he sent you?"
"No, nothing like that. I'm actually quite comfortable as I am. No, I'm actually here because he thought you might be able to help me with a problem my friends and I are having." I picked up my satchel. "Can I ask you to tale a look at a few things?"
"Sure, but not here. The walls have eyes. Literally in some cases. We'll go back to my place after the rush is over."
"Uh… what rush?" I asked, looking around the empty area around the stall. A tumbleweed blew by, suddenly stopped, sprouted legs and a mouth, shouted "Oh no, I forgot which way I was supposed to be going!" and ran off in the opposite direction. Just roll with it, I told myself.
"…on second thought, there's no time like the present. Besides, my apprentice'll probably be happy to see someone from home."
"…wait, there's another human here?"
Edalyn offered me a seat on her staff (the implement, crowned with the carving of an owl, was apparently both her magical focus and her means of transport), but, naturally, I had my own means. The flight wasn't too long. Given how bizarre and logic-defying this realm had been until now, I had very little idea of what to expect from any place the sorceress would call home. Certainly something mind-bendingly strange and disturbing.
Or, as it turned out, a homey-looking cottage in the midst of the woods, one that wouldn't look out of place in your typical children's fairytale, marked by a carving of an owl's face on the door. Between that and the head of her staff, it was easy to see how Ms. Clawthorne had attained her appellation.
"Well, here we are – I don't think I caught your name, Blue."
"It's Phoebe." No real need for secret identities here. No one would know who I was anyway.
"Well, Phoebe, welcome to… dramatic pause for effect…. The Owl House."
"You certainly do know how to stick to a theme," I replied, raising an eyebrow.
The sorceress snort-laughed in response. "Hey, marketing is important in my line of work. All right, let us i-"
"STRANGER DANGER! STRANGER DANGER!" the owl carving on the door suddenly shrieked in a high-pitched voice. It extruded itself from the door on a long tubelike protrusion and thrust itself uncomfortably close to my face. "FRIEND OR FOE, HOOT HOOT?" There. There it is. The disturbing twist.
"Stand down, Hooty," Edalyn responded to the bird… tube… thing. "Phoebe's here on business."
"Oooh! A new friend! I can't wait to share our most disturbing personal secrets and desires!" The door swung open, allowing us in.
"Sorry about that," apologized Edalyn. "Hooty can be a bit needy. I suppose that comes with never being able to go anywhere, being a house and all…"
"So, do you live here all alone?" I asked.
"Well, no. There's my apprentice, like I mentioned, and my… well, for lack of a better word, permanent house guest. You'll meet both very soon. Well…" she beckoned, "shall we?"
The Emperor's Castle
Picture if you will, a massive room with a high vaulted ceiling. Within this room, on a raised platform, there stands a throne so tall it reaches nearly to the roof. And upon this throne, sits a tall, cloaked figure in a great horned mask. Great tapestries depicting the history of his rule frame the throne, and hooded, masked guards completely surround him.
Approaching this figure is a much smaller figure, a red-skinned, goblinlike female in a high-colored white tunic. One yellow eye is visible behind her "hair", which, upon closer inspection, actually appears to be a blue clawed hand clutching her cranium.
"Kikimora," the languid form on the throne speaks. "This had better be important…"
"My emperor," the goblin-woman said, bowing slightly," the Oracles have detected another incursion from the human world."
"The Owl Woman taking on another apprentice?" he asked disinterestedly. "I thought Lilith was dealing with her."
"No, Emperor. This newcomer appears to be unrelated, though our spies report that she was asking quite a few questions about where to acquire human artifacts. So while Clawthorne may not have brought her here, she clearly knows of her and is seeking her out."
"Hmm… so, there may be another way to reach the human realm… We may not need Edalyn at all. Have we identified this newcomer?"
"Our drone-eyes have recorded an image," Kikimora replied, producing a crystal ball. The image of a winged, blue-skinned, three-eyed, four-armed woman appeared within.
"I thought you said she came from the human realm. That is clearly not a human."
"I am aware, Emperor." Kikimora responded. "But the Oracles are certain she originated there."
"Curious," the Emperor mused. "We have a mystery on our hands. I hate mysteries."
"Your recommendations?" asked Kikimora.
"Have Lilith bring me this newcomer." the Emperor requested. "Alive… preferably. If there's an alternative way to get to the human plane, I must know about it."
A.N.: This episode takes place before the Owl House episode "Agony of a Witch". And yes, I know that series takes place during the summer while it's currently autumn in this story's continuity; I'll be touching on that later.
Jose: More of Phoebe this chapter. She's been very focused on schoolwork lately since she plans to graduate early, so she's gotten a bit rusty in the crimefighting department. As for Richie, his problem is he was always an amateur, but threats have evolved well outside of his skill range and he can't catch up. Now, he feels like his reputation has been pretty much destroyed by letting himself fall prey to his darkest impulses, and he really can't just go back to how things used to be like nothing happened. He needs to find a new purpose in his life.
Next: Phoebe finds herself stuck in the middle of a family squabble in "The Owl, the Raven, and the Mutant".