They were in a swamp now.

  Wet pants sticking to his skin, mud slurping with each step, large trees blocking out the light and sending thick roots into the water. They'd ditched the magnet arms a while back, which was good, since they’d just weigh them down in here and he doubted they were waterproof. He almost preferred the desert.

  Lyre, being Lyre, didn’t give a shit. She took a weird, erratic path, and he did his best to follow. For all he knew, there were hidden bogs in here that would swallow him whole. She’d managed to save them from the Harvester thing, so it was probably in his best interests to copy her.

  One step, and everything was pitch black.

  The fuck???

  Complete, total darkness in an instant. Nothing suddenly blocking his vision, no shadowing from trees, just immediate black. Then a hand in his, presumably Lyre, pulling him forwards. He followed, shuffling uncertainly, and between instants, everything was back to normal.

  “What was that?”

  “An electromagnetic anomaly.”

  Thanks, Lyre. Super helpful.

  “Go this way.” And once again, she altered their path, cutting a weird wiggly path around something. He didn’t fucking know and didn’t really care, he just wanted to get somewhere dry. His feet felt squishy and heavy.

  For the next few minutes, they walked in silence.

  Then they were in a tree.

  Spike’s foot slipped, and his head smacked against a branch as he fell into the muddy water. When he looked up, crap dripping from his hair down his face, Lyre was calmly climbing down to a patch of moss.

  “What the fuck just happened?!”

  “A spatial anomaly.”

  “Okay, no. No, you’re going to have to give me more than that. You don’t go from on the ground to in a fucking tree like it’s nothing!” He stood, water dribbling from his clothes back into the swamp, and stormed over to Lyre. “What the fuck happened?”

  “We entered an area where space is unusually folded, allowing us to cross a large distance in a relatively short period of time. Since the fold’s endpoint was in a tree, we ended up in a tree.”

  What sort of sci-fi bullshit was this – No. No, Spike was sick of breaking his brain over the shit Lyre dragged him into, and he really should have learned by now that he was happier in blissful ignorance. He would accept this ridiculous, impossible explanation. Then again… “Are you going to lead us into one of these again?”

  “Yes.”

  Goddamnit.

  “Can you warn me before you do so?”

  “Yes.”

  After that, the weirdness calmed down a little bit. There were still spots Lyre avoided for unknown reasons, and there was one point where suddenly gravity was turned down, but besides that it was mostly just walking through a swamp.

  His boots were starting to feel… off. He’d had to stuff cloth into the toes to make them fit, but now they felt weirdly tight. The cloth was probably soaking up too much water. He should take some out, so it didn’t cut off bloodflow to his feet.

  “Can we take a break?”

  “Yes.” Lyre stopped, staring at him with her ‘LSD gaze’, as he lifted up a foot, trying to take off his boot. It really was too tight. He yanked, and it barely budged. He yanked again, and his other foot slipped out from under him, sending him back into the water with a splash.

  “Can we take a break somewhere where I can sit down?”

  “Yes.” And then she turned and started walking away, and Spike had to quickly get up so he could slosh after her. After maybe five minutes, and a weird moment where time seemed to stutter a bit which he was not going to think about, Lyre arrived at a raised, drier patch of ground. Spike plopped down onto the moss, crossing one leg and stretching the other out. Grabbing his boot, he pulled, putting as much force as he could into it. It slid maybe an inch.

  They were probably going to be here a while.

  After five agonizing minutes, he finally managed to get the first boot off, and felt around inside to… that wasn’t right.

  The boot was too tight, so presumably the cloth had taken up water and expanded, leaving less space for his feet. The stuff inside was wet, sure, but not soaking, and it didn’t take up that much space. There should still be enough for his foot to wiggle around, and certainly not so much that it was hell to remove. Maybe the lining- no, the lining was still super thin, it hadn’t absorbed any water at all.

  Looking at his foot, it looked larger than usual. It was probably his socks, now that he thought about it. He didn’t really want to take them off, though, because then his feet would rub against the boot and potentially get sores. Maybe he’d just squeeze the water out of them and put them back on.

  He pulled off his sock. It hung in his grip, wet, limp, and very thin.

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  He looked back at his foot.

  It was white, except where blue-black bruising peeked through. The skin was wrinkled, and when he poked it, it squished under his finger. The whole thing had swelled up noticeably, enough that he wasn’t sure he could get the boot back on without causing damage.

  He grabbed at his other foot, fumbling to get the boot off. It took him another five minutes, and once he did, he immediately stripped off his sock.

  His other foot was the same.

  “Lyre. Take off your shoes and socks.” If his feet were this bad, Lyre’s were probably about the same. They’d have to stay here and let them dry out naturally.

  She complied, and… her feet were wet and wrinkly, as expected, but they weren’t swollen. Not like his were. They’d been in the water for the same amount of time, though, so why was there such a discrepancy? Why was he in such bad condition, while she was essentially fine?

  Whatever. Lyre was weird. The more important thing to figure out was if he could afford to keep going. The longer his feet were in the water, the worse things would get, especially now that he’d stripped off his boots. On the other hand, it would take hours for his feet to dry, possibly longer given how damp it was, and he wasn’t sure he was willing to wait that long.

  “How much longer do you think we’ll be wading through the swamp?”

  “Six hours, two minutes and fifty-four seconds. Then we’ll stop for the night, and continue for three hours thirty-four minutes, and twenty-three seconds before reaching dry land.”

  Six hours. They’d been walking for a few hours now, so it was about double the time. His feet would definitely be in pretty bad condition, and there would be significant damage that would make things difficult moving forwards.

  “Can we afford to wait?”

  “No.”

  So that was out the window. He didn’t want to risk taking all the skin off his feet trying to put his boots back on, so he fished out the cloth scraps he’d stuffed inside and tossed the boots into his bag. Putting on his socks first, he wrapped the cloth tightly around his feet. Some of the water squeezed and dripped onto the moss as he did so. The cloth would provide a bit of extra protection, and hopefully the pressure would prevent the swelling enough to avoid permanent damage.

  Once he was happy with the wrappings, he stood up, and was about to tell Lyre to keep going when he heard something.

  Voices. Two girls.

  “I’m telling you, Amelia, I heard something!”

  “Who would be wandering the wetlands? We’ve searched this place and-” A sudden hush.

  “Lyre! Oh my god, Lyre!” One of the girls ran forwards, right toward them, and the other-

  The other-

  Amelia.

  She was looking at him, eyes wide and wet. Her nails were bare and dirty, unlike the usual turquoise polish she used to wear. Her dark hair was tangled and her face looked a bit thinner than he remembered. She was still beautiful.

  The other girl had reached Lyre, and was holding her hands, word-vomiting in between sobs. “Oh, Lyre, I thought- I thought I wouldn’t ever see you again. I’m so glad – Oh my god, you’re hurt! We have medical supplies back at camp, that bandage should be changed – We’re not alone, there’s others…”

  Amy Amy Amy

  “...Spike?”

  “Amelia.”

  “Spike!” And then she was running as well, feet splashing in the mud, until she came up onto the hill they were on and practically launched herself at him. He stumbled, Amy’s arms wrapped around his neck and she sobbed into his shoulder.

  “Oh thank god, Spike, I thought you were dead, I – I missed you so much.”

  “I… Yeah, I’m here, Amy, it’s okay. I…” his voice cracked a bit, embarrassingly, but… he didn’t really care. It was Amelia, right here in his arms, he wasn’t alone anymore. Sure, he never got to know her that well before, but it was someone he knew. Someone he thought he would never see again. “Are you okay? How did you get here?”

  “Wha- Lyre? Lyre, wait, where are you going???” Amelia pulled away a bit, looking at the other girl, who was watching in confusion as Lyre was walking away.

  “Uh, Spike, is your… friend okay?”

  “She’s weird. It’s probably fine.” He’d catch up to her later.

  “Okay… I… none of us remember how we got here. We just woke up in this swamp with some supplies– I nearly forgot!” She looked at him, beaming. “Tony’s back at camp, we can go see him right now! He hasn’t been the same ever since… he’ll be so glad you’re okay!”

  He was grinning, too. Tony! His buddy Tony was here! He hadn’t seen him in… how long? Months, at least, and now-

  Lyre was right. He would get to see his friends again, and they probably had a cellphone or something- he could contact his mom and dad!

  That said, he should probably go get Lyre. Where did she go, again?

  “It’s not real.”

  “Jesus FUCK – Sorry, Amy – Lyre, don’t sneak up on me like that.”

  Amelia giggled. “Spike, you’re allowed to swear in front of me.”

  “That’s not Amelia. Ask her what your name is.”

  What???

  “Lyre, what – I’m really sorry, Amelia, Lyre’s really weird she might be on drugs uh, Lyre, what exactly do you mean?”

  Amelia looked confused too, and perhaps a bit worried. “Lyre, I just used his name?”

  Yeah, she did, she-

  …

  What… was his name, again?

  In the groupchat, he was labeled as ‘Spike’. That’s what Lyre called him, too. And that was what Amelia had just called him.

  D___, could you get the trash?

  Ugh, Mom, can’t it wait?

  He didn’t remember his name. He hadn’t remembered it all the months after… After.

  But he knew it wasn’t originally Spike.

  And-

  And Amelia used to scold him for his language, when they sat together in math class.

  “Amelia. What’s my name?”

  She looked up at him, smile sliding off her face. “It’s… Spike. Spike, are you okay?”

  His hands snapped out, squeezing her throat. She choked, hands reaching up and clawing at his arms, but he didn’t let up.

  “You’re not Amy. WHO ARE YOU?!” The thing looked at him, mouthing pleas, tears in its eyes. “HOW DARE YOU?! HOW DARE YOU STEAL HER FACE, HOW DARE YOU TRICK ME?! You know,” he choked, “I thought I would get to see her again! I thought I could see Tony again! HOW DARE YOU GIVE ME HOPE?!”

  He let go for a moment, and the thing bent over, gasping, before he grabbed it by the hair. “I’m not going to kill you quickly. You lied to me, you made me suffer. I’m going to beat you into a pulp. I’m going to destroy the body you stole until nobody makes the mistake I did.” He grabbed its face, fingers tearing holes into its cheeks, and used his other hand to slam a punch into its temple.

  “She’s lying,” it said.

  “Nice fucking try, bitch. The only liar here is you.” He kneed it in the face, feeling the crunch of breaking cartilage as its nose began pouring blood.

  “She can’t see out of here,” it gurgled as he threw it to the ground and stomped its head into the ground. “That’s – why – she – couldn’t – answer – Kiki.” In between each word, he stomped on its back, its ribs cracking under him. Blood stained the moss, both from it and from… it seemed like Lyre had taken care of the other one.

  Spike slid to the ground, pinning it under him, a jagged piece of rib piercing its shirt and dripping blood. “Spppikkkke… plllleassssse… I ccan h-hlp you.”

  He let it turn around just enough that he could see its face, nose smashed in, governed in blood and filth, those horrifically familiar eyes leaking disgusting fake tears. “You’ve wondered too,” it rasped. “You know she doesn’t listen to you. You know I’m right.”

  He stared down at it for one second. Five. Ten.

  “I believe you.”

  The thing smiled. “Then-”

  He brought the butt of his gun down on its head, once, twice, again and again and again and again and againagainagaiagainagainagainagainagain

  He wasn’t a fucking idiot. And as he looked down at the gooey pulp in front of him, little shards of skull mixed with blood and brain and hair, he knew that that thing was saying whatever it could to try and get him to trust it, to follow it. Just because it happened to know something didn’t mean it gave a shit about his goals. Just because it helped him didn’t mean it wouldn’t fuck him over first chance.

  Just because it told the truth sometimes, didn’t mean it always told the truth.

  One liar down.

  One to go.

  He got up, not bothering to wipe off any of the blood, and turned around. Sure enough, the thing’s companion was floating facedown in the water, blood spreading out from its throat.

  He looked at Lyre, standing next to him, covered in blood the same as he was. Thing is, he didn’t keep it a secret. He made it clear what he was willing to do to people to get what he wanted. He didn’t lead them on, make promises he knew he couldn’t keep, lie again and again and again so they wouldn’t abandon him.

  “Lyre, I’m going to ask you a question, and I want you to tell me the truth.”

  “Okay.”

  “Can you get me in contact with my family?”

  little mad about being lied to… We’ll see how Lyre deals with that next time.