Right now, it is being mopped, by a skinny girl just a touch younger than he is, hair tied back with a string.

"Oh, hello. This is Milliways. It goes in doors to places, sometimes, and then when you go home and close the door again it will be gone. And it does translation magic!"

"It's magic!"

"Oh. This - must have taken someone ages for the hex. I wonder why they wanted it so badly."

"Huh? Oh, it's probably not the same kind of magic."

"There are different kinds?" asks Edarial. "... Can I learn them?"

"I haven't found any I can learn yet, but whenever I get a door I stay as long as I can so I can meet people. Can I learn yours?"

"I don't have one."

"I'm sorry," he says, sincerely. "I don't know how you'd get one if you don't have one already."

"Well, maybe somebody else will come along."

"Maybe. I have a few spells? I can charge and cast them for you?"

"What can you do?"

"Small things, like - I can clean messes, and fix scrapes, and I got Zevros to - um, borrow a spell chart for making a shield for me to look at, so I can do that too."

"If you do my job for me with the messes then I won't be doing it and I have to do it to have my room here. And I don't have any scrapes right now and getting into fights in the bar isn't allowed so a shield would only be good if you came home with me."

"It's okay, nobody else can help me either."

"Help with what, child?" asks the talking snake curled around the nine year old.

"Getting magic to bring home with me."

"What do you need it for?" wonders Berathyme.

"Well, it'd depend on what kind of magic it was."

"Ooh - um, well, I'd make sure everybody had enough food, and I'd make them stop doing the Hunger Games, and I would put the president and everybody who helped him in jail, and if I was good and proper omnipotent I'd get everybody who died to be alive again but probably not all at once because other people are living in their houses and stuff now so I'd have to make sure they had places to live, and I'd get rid of the bad mutts, and I would make it so there wasn't salt fever or any other diseases any more, and if I was really really omnipotent I would get doors here all the time and hang out and help everybody else once I was done!"

"Yay!"

"The Hunger Games are when they get two dozen teenagers to go on TV and die until there's only one left and that one wins, and the mutts are like the tracker jackers and squids and stuff, and the president could stop the Hunger Games and the mutts and all the other bad stuff but he won't."

"Yeah. I won't have to play because I live in a Career district so somebody who's been training to do it will go for me even if I get picked but it's still not good and if I was omnipotent I would make it stop."

"It's to punish the Districts for trying to rebel against the Capitol."

"That doesn't make sense. Did the teenagers have anything to do with the rebellion?"

"Not anymore, no, it was a long time ago."

"Then that makes even less sense."

"I know that."

"Why don't they, has anyone told them that doesn't make any sense?"

"I wouldn't want to try it, someone would probably shoot me."

"I don't know!"

"Sorry," winces Edarial. "It's not your fault. I'm just. That is wrong and it needs to stop."

"That's why I stay here as long as I can, whenever I get a door, in case someone can give me magic to take home."

"... How often do doors show up, do your parents miss you while you're gone?"

"Oh, while you're in here nothing happens where you came from until you go back. That's not the problem, the problem is I run out of shells to buy food with and get hungry and have to go home. I get doors once or twice a year, ish, some people get more."

"You pay for things in shells here? I don't have any."

"I do. You don't have to, but I don't have any normal money, and some places, shells are money. I have shells, so that's what I use. Bar will take any kind of money."

"Oh. I don't have anything to pay with, I think."

"She'll give you one drink for free and that's it, everything else costs money. I clean enough to have a room, but not enough to get money on top of that."

He nods. "That makes sense. Um. Is there some other way I can help?"

"I don't think so, but just because I haven't thought of things people could help me with besides magic - or technology maybe - and money doesn't mean there's definitely nothing."

"I don't know, I'd have to learn more about how your magic works," says Shell Bell reasonably. "To know what you can do that would be good."

"Spellbinders write up spell charts, which are sort of - 'if this happens in this condition, then do this,' for every possible condition. And then you sit down with the chart and get all of it to stick in your head for about half a second, and when you do, you can cast the spell, and it will do exactly what you said it would in the spell chart. But spells take time to charge, and they might not last as long as you think they should, it varies a bit, you don't know until you cast it for the first time. ... And you get only six per day. Or one hex, which - I don't know how to do at all."

"All of the books."

"All of them? Even the ones that were lost or - can she do books of spell charts?"

"I bet! I bet she can!"

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance," says Edarial politely, because he is a prince. "Spell charts, do you have books of lost spell charts? Or - non lost spell charts that I don't have access to?"

I have all of the books that have ever been published, replies Bar.

Why, thank you. Would you like a drink? The first one's free.

She peeks, but mostly she mops (and then wipes down tables and polishes Bar), since she can't do the magic.

"My name's Bell. Or Shell Bell, people call me that -" She looks. "Yes."

"That's okay, I have enough shells to eat for another few days if I'm careful."

"I can wait. Are you going to get really hungry?"

"... Probably, it'll take a while for them to recharge. But I can sleep through a lot of it, I think, that'll help."

"Okay. You can stay in my room if you don't want to sleep by the fireplace."

"Thank you! I want to see if there are spells that I can use today that will help, too, though. Like, I don't know, something that makes a meal. That's be useful, even if it's not the hex."

"That would be nice. I have to ration my shells very carefully to stay as long as I can here. I mostly eat potatoes and milk."

"... I really want the hex to work for you," he says. "Because that sounds unpleasant. I'll look for something to make food."

"Potatoes and milk are nice, I like them fine, and it's not like eating clams and salmon and bread all the time at home is much more interesting. But it would be nice if you could make something else."

"Thank you."

"What kind?" she asks, beaming up at him and clapping her hands excitedly.

"Ummm," he says, and he reads the description for the spell chart, "'One hardboiled egg, an apple, celery sticks and -' oh, sorry, bread and butter. That part's probably not helpful, but the rest is."

"It's all helpful, it's food," she says emphatically. "What does it feel like when your eyes do that?"

"It looks really cool."

"Thanks," says Edarial, shyly. "I usually feel a bit silly while charging. Glowing eyes and all."

"But it's magic. I can't do any magic. I'd like it if I could glow my eyes."

"... Maybe there's a spell to get you a spirit animal? Or. No, that'd be a hex, probably."

"Maybe!"

"I'll look, anyway. And if it's not here, I can add it to the list of things I will look into when I get home."

"Well, once you go home we probably won't see each other again, you know, I've never met the same person twice here."

"... Oh," says Edarial. "That's disappointing. I'll try to get as much done while I'm here that I can, then."

"That's what I do. If you make a cornucopia we can stay a long time!"

"That would be great!"

"It would be! Especially if people only get to eat clams, salmon, and bread where you live, they'll get to have other things too now."

"Sometimes there's other stuff. Just not usually. Clams and salmon is mostly my family because I work on a clam boat and my dad works on a salmon boat. The neighbors eat crabs and sardines more."

"We do sometimes, but we don't always have enough at the same time."

"Thank you."

"Yes," says Edarial, still with the grin. "I can just make another for me. Go ahead."

She digs in like she's starving.

Bell asks Bar how much of the apple it is wise to eat, and when informed, carefully removes the seeds and the stem and gets everything else down.

"You can get the next one, too," offers Edarial. "It's okay."

"Thanks. You're really nice."

"Thank you, but I don't think that makes me nice," correct Edarial. "It just seems like good sense, you know what spells would be the most useful, and you need to be here longer than I do, I'm pretty well fed at home."

"I still think you're nice."

"Oh. Well, thank you. I think you're nice, too."

"But I haven't done anything."

"You want to do things," argues Edarial. "And you're trying really hard to do them. That is close enough."

"Okay."

"Be careful," Shell Bell tells the snake, "if you go out the back there's sometimes animals in the forest and there's a big squid - but it's a friendly one - in the lake. Also sometimes more time goes by in one part of Milliways than other parts."

"It must be nice to have a talking snake."

"I like her," agrees Edarial. "It'd probably be different if we didn't like each other, I know Zevros hates his turtle."

"What's wrong with the turtle?"

"I haven't been able to figure it out. Zevros hasn't made the turtle his familiar, so I haven't met him myself, and asking about it gets my brother to say bad words and call the turtle bad names."

"How does the familiars thing work?"

"Oh, right, um - every person gets a spirit animal. Only the person can see them, and they have their own language that's sort of - really easy to learn? And then if you want to be a spellbinder, you bind your spirit animal and make it your familiar, and then it has a body and can walk around and do stuff and you become a spellbinder and can do magic."

"Your familiar doesn't walk," she giggles.

"I know. But she slithers. Does she let people pet her?"

"No one's really wanted to, but she lets me. If you ask she'll probably let you, too."

"Maybe when she comes back I will. I've never touched a snake before."

Edarial nods. "I can ask her for you, if you want?"

"I don't want to interrupt her, that seems rude."

"When she gets back, then."

Nod, nod. "Your world sounds nice."

"I think it's pretty nice. I just wish I had a different mom. I don't like mine."

"Why?"

"She's scary. And I don't think she should be in charge of anything, and she is anyway, and I think that's causing bad things to happen."

"Is she the president?"

"She's not a president. And she doesn't do the - Hunger Games thing, or anything. She does nice things." Pause. "Just. Not always."

"My parents are pretty good parents. My dad used to be a Peacekeeper but he got injured and had to stop and anyway not all of them are so bad."

"Why are Peacekeepers bad? Or, some of them, why are some of them bad?"

"Well, some of them are meaner than I think they should be if they catch people poaching or something. I can poach a little because my dad has Peacekeeper friends and I'm little still but when I'm older it'll be more dangerous."

"Oh. And you need to poach for food. ... People shouldn't need to poach to eat."

"I know that."

"Sorry. I shouldn't tell you things you already know."

"It's okay. I just... I have the same conversation a lot with people I meet here."

"You can write it down? Hand people copies with the standard questions and your answers and how you know it's all horrible?"

"Write it down on what? I spend all my shells on food. I'd like to have paper too but it's not worth having to go home that much earlier. Sometimes I think I'll go home and then I stay another fifteen minutes and somebody comes in who'll buy me lunch from Bar and then I can last another day and anybody might have something that makes the difference."

"I would like a hug."

Edarial provides one.

Hug.

"If you want I can probably figure out a way you can live with me," offers Edarial. "And your parents, too, since they're nice."

"I can't get them from this door. I'm actually going to come out on the boat I work on this time. Which was lucky sort of because it meant I had more shells than usual, though I'm mostly out now, but means I definitely can't hold the door till I'm near enough to call them over."

"Oh. Um. Yeah, that's bad, hm. I - could look for a 'teleport them here' spell, learn that, cast it, and then you pull them back through the door and you all live in my world?"

"Can you do that?"

"I don't know. But it's an idea, I can look."

"That would be great. I mean - I want to fix my world, too, but I haven't found anything to do it with yet, and I probably wouldn't find doors much less often if I were living in yours most of the time."

He nods. "And you'd be able to get back to your world, right, as long as you had the doors?"

"Right. Although I'd need somebody from your world with me to get back to it again, and somebody from mine to hold the door if I needed to get away from it to do things in mine - it's complicated."

"Your parents count as someone from yours. Someone from my world wouldn't be too difficult to do, since you'll be living there, but if I or my brother aren't there for it it could be tricky."

"Yeah, exactly. So it could work, if we did it right."

"Yeah. I'll look for a spell that does it, and we can try it, if you want."

"Yes."

"So it will have to wait a bit," she infers. "Probably it should be after the cornucopia."

"Yeah. So everyone can eat."

"There was pasta with beef and peas and broccoli in it and a garlicky cream sauce, and an egg soup, and a strawberry milkshake, and chocolate cake, and it was so, so, so good."

"I think we have most of that at home. You could have it again."

"Now and then somebody else tells Bar to get me something nice on their tab and it's always different and it's always amazing but it's the first one I remember best."

"That makes sense. I'm glad other people get you nice food sometimes, even if I can't."

"You got me food! It wasn't potatoes or clams! I'm pretty happy with it."

"I'm glad! It just seems pretty meager in comparison to what you could have."

"It's okay. Really. You're being really nice to me."

Edarial smiles. "You deserve to have people be nice to you."

She giggles.

Edarial smiles a bit wider, and then goes back to reading. Booooooks.

Books!

"Yeah, of course. It's over here -" She leads him down an unobtrusive side hallway to one of several rooms and pulls out a key and opens it for him.

"Thanks!" says Edarial. "It should be past midnight when I wake up, so I can cast a hex."

"Okay! If I get tired I'll just nap by the fireplace so I don't wake you up."

And Shell Bell reads, and naps, and coasts on her magic calories, and reads more.

Shell Bell goes and hugs him.

"It's not your fault."

"If I hadn't of used spells before I got here, I could have gotten you the cornucopia hex."

"You didn't know you were going to find a door."

"Well. Yes, but - still."

"Yes," says Edarial. "I'll - do that. I promise."

"Thank you."

"Like what else?"

"I don't know. It just - seems like a good idea to look."

"There's - superstitions. I don't run up a tab, even when I'm really tempted - but I don't know if it actually helps."

"... I'm tempted to say, 'use my tab' and possibly not be able to come back, but that potentially loses you the hex entirely."

"I don't know if it helps. Bar doesn't know either, she doesn't do the door."

"I'm willing to," offers Edarial. "Either way it would be helping you. Potentially, in one case."

"Neither do I."

"How about - tell Bar that I can use your tab? And I'll try not to, but if I'm ever - if there's a bad month at home and I can't get food there, either, I'll use it instead of opening mine?"

Of course. Do you wish to limit how much expense she can accrue on it?

"Um." He looks at Shell Bell. "No, I trust her."

"I don't know how much money you have. I don't even know what kind of money they use in your world," Shell Bell points out.

"I'm nine," points out Edarial. "I don't have money. But I can put a limit to it if it helps?"

"Yeah - like, some people have little tiny currency and some people have big currency. Six of somebody's something might be worth a billion of somebody else's something and I don't know for yours."

"Thanks."

"Yeah. I know the feeling."

"It's okay. You fed me and now I have a safety net and I know you wanted to help."

Another nod! "And hopefully I get another door and can get you the hex."

"Yeah. And then I can feed everybody."

"Yeah. And if nothing else - I know the hex for sure now. So my world gets a lot of them. Even if I don't get a door, maybe someone will show up with one?"

"Maybe!"

"Bye, Edarial."

And then, he goes through the door, Berathyme coiled around his shoulders. It closes behind him.

"What?" calls Edarial from his office.

"Remember that thing you told me about years ago where I thought you were crazy but then believed you out of brotherly affection and also knowing you?" Pause. "I maybe have more proof now!"

"Didn't, literally the first thing I did once I realized was up was tell you. Am I a good brother?"

Edarial blinks, and then turns to look behind him.

There is a girl, about seventeen, skinny with her hair up in a bun held in place with a stick, with familiar brown eyes and a familiar smile. And a sign that says My alternates tend to take over the world. Advice available. Rates negotiable.

"I didn't get the door," snorts Edarial. "Not once, my brother just got it, I'm sort of vaguely upset with the door being a jerk."

"You're welcome," says the brother brightly. "Also? This is super cute. Just saying."

"Hi, Edarial's brother," says Bell. "...I got your name right, right? I met you before I had my recorder so some of what I remember is a little fuzzy."

"Nah, his name's secretly Edorkial, so sad, it's very memorable-"

Edarial snorts. "You got my name right."

Shell Bell giggles. She puts her sign facedown on the table. "How old are you now?" she wonders.

"Nineteen. Apparently one of us gets a door every decade. Or we just lucked out, either."

"I got more than that, though never as many as I wanted - I didn't wind up using your tab, though."

"I'm glad you never needed to." Pause. "... Feel free to use it now, by the way, even for non-emergencies."

"Why's that?"

"I am no longer nine and actually have access to money now." Pause. "Don't bankrupt my country, please."

"Your county?"

Zevros starts snickering.

"I uh. Um. Oops? Surprise, I'm prince of a country?"

"That's really cool. I've met people who say that I look like people who take over the world in other worlds - hence the sign - but I've never run into any of them myself, just people who double take at me and say 'your majesty' before they realize I'm the wrong age or species or something."

"Yeah. I mean, reportedly. I've found some useful things here, but nothing big enough to let me go against the Capitol safely."

"Pssst. Ari knows magic," says Zevros in a stage whisper.

Edarial rolls his eyes affectionately. "She knows. Good news. I have enough cornucopia hexes to fill at least one moderately sized house. So there's that."

"Cornucopias would be great. Not really rebellion material, but they might help if someone else has a good idea for the offense, and I have my fire wand, so that's something."

"Fire wand? ... The stick in your hair? That's clever."

"It's great. I've practiced with it a lot, on the beach when no one's watching. But it wouldn't really stop someone from shooting me, so I haven't gone burning the Capitol to the ground or anything."

Zevros will be over there, looking vaguely amused and not saying a word. This is all very interesting.

"I'm actually within shouting distance of both parents, this time."

"Well, you are welcome to retrieve them."

"I will. No hurry, though, right? What have you been up to, between cornucopia-making and prince-ing?"

"Our mother's dead, for one. Also she was an awful queen and no one is going to miss her."

"Also if either of us wants to get the crown, we've got to get hitched. So that's exciting. Not it. Extra, special not it."

"That's a weird rule."

"Don't get me started on the rule. It is a stupid, stupid rule."

"What happens if you don't get married?"

"Mayhem, probably. I have no freaking clue."

"I'm uh. Working on that, I'm sort of awful at it."

"...Awful how...?"

"It's sort of - I don't just want it to be a 'I need to be king, so you, you're not the worst possible choice here, let's get married' sort of thing. And also it's difficult to get into any sort of relationship with 'And also he is a prince' sort of - perpetually hanging over my head."

"That sounds hard."

"A bit."

"Why are you not-it?" she asks Zevros.

"I do not want to rule a country, and also, I'm super gay."

"I can see how those would make you not-it."

"Yup. Not it. I mean like, I can probably pick a girl that's fine with me banging other dudes while married to her, and have a sort of - sexless partnership kinda deal, but kingship plus the heir problem - ahahaha, no."

Zevros makes a very unreadable expression, and looks between Edarial and Shell Bell.

"I, uh," volunteers Edarial, "actually do want to be king. Just the - stupid marriage rule."

"Ruling a country, um, sounds pretty great."

"A bit, and it's such a mess, I'm trying to clean it up but there's so much I can't do while I'm just a prince."

Zevros's palm? Meet his face. Not physically, just - metaphorically.

"What's messy about it?"

"I mentioned my mother made an awful queen? She had this habit of just - doing things on a whim. Which occasionally included giving estates from one family to another for no reason. Or something."

"So now you have to figure out how to get back all the things people need that have been put in the wrong places."

"And do it politely without - insulting the people that enjoy their shiny new gifts. Yes."

"Can you get the people who got the things and the people who originally had them to make friends and then nudge the first to give the things back to the second as presents? Or give the original holders credit for doing something nice that's actually mostly you, for the current holders."

"Hmmm," considers Edarial. "That's a good idea. I'll try those."

"I'm a consultant," giggles Shell Bell, tapping her sign. "Of sorts."

"You are entirely welcome to be my consultant."

"...Well, when we leave Milliways we won't actually be able to understand each other any more."

"That - is true. Hm. I - don't know what the solution there should be. I'm willing to help teach you Marlatian, though?"

"I'll learn it," agrees Shell Bell. "But we can't really start here since everything's translated, and I bet nobody ever wrote a Marlatian-English dictionary. It'll be full immersion. So I won't be able to consult right away."

Edarial nods. "That's all right. It's - the consulting is a bonus, not why you're allowed to follow me to my world."

"I know. But I like having useful things to do."

"Oh. Hm. Uh - I don't know how to speed that up. I mean, obviously we talk here and plan things, but once we're out of Milliways..." He shrugs, weakly.

"Yeah. Oh - I know. We can write up a list of phrases. If you take something you wrote or recorded yourself out of Milliways, it's in your language - so we make two copies, and you hold one and I hold one, and then they'll be in the two languages and we'll know they match up."

"That'll work. What sorts of phrases should we use, then?"

"I'm not sure. 'Where's the bathroom'? 'What is the word for...?' 'Yes' and 'no' and 'maybe'?"

"Probably explanatory things like 'hungry' or 'thirsty' too, those sound like they'd be smart. Uh, room names, kitchen, bedroom, so on?"

"And - does my name sound like a word or a sound, to you?"

"Sound. Um. A pretty sound?"

"I'm not asking if you think it's pretty, although thank you. I wanted to make sure I didn't have to transliterate it. It's a word - both bits of my nickname, are, actually. Shell, bell."

Zevros asks the Bar very nicely for an alcoholic drink. He needs it. Ugh, no wonder his brother is failing so badly at getting married.

"Mine's got a vague connotation with autumn, but honestly no one really cares about it until they're trying to make awful puns. Also, thank you, Bar, this is delicious and exactly what I needed."

"Bar's very good at her job." Pause. "We could have dinner. Since you have money now being no longer nine."

"Yeah," snickers Edarial. "Sure, dinner."

"At... lunch. Okay. Freaky time travel shenanigans, go."

"That is excessively cute," observes Zevros. "Ari, feed her forever."

Edarial snorts. "No complaints."

Shell Bell, of course, eats like someone who has only rarely had anything decent to eat in any quantity.

Edarial sort of wants to scoot more food over to her and possibly tell her very gently that she gets to eat decent food all of the time now, but he refrains.

She doesn't stuff herself to the point of later regret. She slows down by the time she gets to the cookies, which she eats slowly and rapturously.

"I'm really tempted to just start sneaking you cookies later."

"I'll help."

"I can't overdo it after a while on once-a-sleep-cycle potatoes or I'll get sick. Usually Bar helps me with portions but there's three people's worth of stuff here so I'm eyeballing it."

Edarial winces. "That, makes sense. We'll stay in Milliways for a while to let you get adjusted?"

"Yeah. And write up the phrasebook and give me a crash course on what to expect in your world and then get my parents and explain everything to them and talk them into coming along."

He nods. "That won't be hard, will it?"

"I don't really know. I think I can get them to hear me out, at least. And if they don't want to come - I still will, I think."

"Okay," says Edarial, softly. "Let me know if there's anything I can do to help convince them."

"Well - for one thing, where are you going to put us?"

"I was planning to let you have guest rooms in the palace until you could all find a place that you liked."

"That might take a while, since we won't know the language."