Sabotage .
Key looked around the Necropolis and, although her imprisonment kept her from seeing much more, she could see enough to tell that many Mystical Creatures were also frozen in that moment of time. She saw a Mostly Dead Troll wearing sunglasses, frozen while tripping over a Not Quite Dead Gnome in a white waistcoat, who was also frozen in a moment of sheer panic. Key also saw a Poltergeist frozen while scaring a Partly Dead Sprite, who was also frozen in a look of pure fright while spilling her cappuccino. Key also saw a Merman frozen in Melancholy Moat – and a Kraken’s frozen hand bursting from the black water to grab him – and a frozen death-guard with zinc on his nose trying to either save the Merman or help the Kraken (Key wasn’t sure which).
Half in disbelief, half in excitement to see if something would happen next – “or if anything would ever happen again,” she told herself – Key came back down to the dungeon floor. Right then she noticed that several Partly Dead Brownie Folk had been coming toward her, and now they too were frozen in a moment of celebration. With wide frozen smiles, the group was carrying over their heads an open box of Snuckle Truffles, filled with exactly one hundred Bloody Bonbons, each one with a little birth-night candle plunged into the top, to celebrate Key’s one-hundredth birth-night.
Key was as touched as she was curious. “What’s going on?” she wondered.
Then all of a sudden, in the same peculiar way that she had seen another version of herself all those years ago on her ninth birthday, that same strange event happened a second time. Now, stepping out of the dungeon’s shadows, there appeared another Key. Yet this other Key wasn’t wearing a shackle; she wasn’t chained to the wall at all. No, this other Key was clearly free of Despair, and Key felt a very sharp sting of envy for this other Key, desiring very much to be her.
This other Key was wearing a black aviator cap, violet goggles, dark green jacket with a stand-up collar, wide sleeves, and tall black and white boots. She was also gripping a gentlewoman’s cane in one hand. Her other hand clutched a brass pistol. She was shouldering a brass backpack that had two large canisters, one filled with red ink, the other with blue. Her eyebrows were covered in tiny silver mechanisms with wiring as thin as hair. And her fingertips were capped in pewter machines that looked a little like thimbles.
This other Key astonished Key, because she had never seen herself look so powerful and confident. And though she could not be sure, Key had a strange suspicion that this other Key was not from the present moment, but from some future moment that Key had not yet experienced. “Yes,” Key said to herself in a flash of realization, “this other Key is from the future.” And so Key accordingly thought of this other version of herself as “Future Key.”
Future Key now smiled at Key, her vampire fangs flashing in the darkness. “Don’t be afraid,” she said.
“I’m not afraid,” Key replied.
Future Key laughed in happy remembrance. “That’s right,” she exclaimed. “I forgot. I wasn’t afraid.”
“What weren’t you afraid of?” Key asked.
“Me.”
“Who are you?”
“The Key you will be,” Future Key said.
Key was almost speechless, now that her suspicion had proven to be true. But she managed to stammer out in utter fascination, “So I’ll be you in the future.”
“Who says you aren’t me now?” Future Key said with a playful smirk.
“I don’t feel like you.”
“How do I feel?”
“I feel alone and sad.”
“I know how you feel,” Future Key said, now becoming a little sorrowful. “I felt that way for a long time.”
“Do you still feel that way?”
“Sometimes,” Future Key admitted, “when I think of you.”
“Who are you?” Key asked, but realizing that this wasn’t quite the question she wanted to ask – because it’s easier to talk to yourself when
Key looked around the Necropolis and, although her imprisonment kept her from seeing much more, she could see enough to tell that many Mystical Creatures were also frozen in that moment of time. She saw a Mostly Dead Troll wearing sunglasses, frozen while tripping over a Not Quite Dead Gnome in a white waistcoat, who was also frozen in a moment of sheer panic. Key also saw a Poltergeist frozen while scaring a Partly Dead Sprite, who was also frozen in a look of pure fright while spilling her cappuccino. Key also saw a Merman frozen in Melancholy Moat – and a Kraken’s frozen hand bursting from the black water to grab him – and a frozen death-guard with zinc on his nose trying to either save the Merman or help the Kraken (Key wasn’t sure which).
Half in disbelief, half in excitement to see if something would happen next – “or if anything would ever happen again,” she told herself – Key came back down to the dungeon floor. Right then she noticed that several Partly Dead Brownie Folk had been coming toward her, and now they too were frozen in a moment of celebration. With wide frozen smiles, the group was carrying over their heads an open box of Snuckle Truffles, filled with exactly one hundred Bloody Bonbons, each one with a little birth-night candle plunged into the top, to celebrate Key’s one-hundredth birth-night.
Key was as touched as she was curious. “What’s going on?” she wondered.
Then all of a sudden, in the same peculiar way that she had seen another version of herself all those years ago on her ninth birthday, that same strange event happened a second time. Now, stepping out of the dungeon’s shadows, there appeared another Key. Yet this other Key wasn’t wearing a shackle; she wasn’t chained to the wall at all. No, this other Key was clearly free of Despair, and Key felt a very sharp sting of envy for this other Key, desiring very much to be her.
This other Key was wearing a black aviator cap, violet goggles, dark green jacket with a stand-up collar, wide sleeves, and tall black and white boots. She was also gripping a gentlewoman’s cane in one hand. Her other hand clutched a brass pistol. She was shouldering a brass backpack that had two large canisters, one filled with red ink, the other with blue. Her eyebrows were covered in tiny silver mechanisms with wiring as thin as hair. And her fingertips were capped in pewter machines that looked a little like thimbles.
This other Key astonished Key, because she had never seen herself look so powerful and confident. And though she could not be sure, Key had a strange suspicion that this other Key was not from the present moment, but from some future moment that Key had not yet experienced. “Yes,” Key said to herself in a flash of realization, “this other Key is from the future.” And so Key accordingly thought of this other version of herself as “Future Key.”
Future Key now smiled at Key, her vampire fangs flashing in the darkness. “Don’t be afraid,” she said.
“I’m not afraid,” Key replied.
Future Key laughed in happy remembrance. “That’s right,” she exclaimed. “I forgot. I wasn’t afraid.”
“What weren’t you afraid of?” Key asked.
“Me.”
“Who are you?”
“The Key you will be,” Future Key said.
Key was almost speechless, now that her suspicion had proven to be true. But she managed to stammer out in utter fascination, “So I’ll be you in the future.”
“Who says you aren’t me now?” Future Key said with a playful smirk.
“I don’t feel like you.”
“How do I feel?”
“I feel alone and sad.”
“I know how you feel,” Future Key said, now becoming a little sorrowful. “I felt that way for a long time.”
“Do you still feel that way?”
“Sometimes,” Future Key admitted, “when I think of you.”
“Who are you?” Key asked, but realizing that this wasn’t quite the question she wanted to ask – because it’s easier to talk to yourself when
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