Eventually, the little rowboat hit a wall.

No one could see the wall, of course. But the boat stopped short against the void with a little thud, and Lucy found that she could reach out over the bow and touch it.

“Um, Uriel…” she said. “Is th-this it…??”

“It’s the end of the world; yeah,” he said. “We made it~.”

“So where’s the moon?” asked Dreadlilocks.

“I guess it’s not up yet…but that’s good; all we have to do is wait for it here.”

“How do you know the moon will rise in this particular spot?” asked Pitch. “You can’t even see the night sky anymore in this...blankness…”

“Well, I can smell it,” he replied. “That’s why they call me the Navigator; usin’ yer nose makes it a lot easier to find yer way around on the water, believe it or not. ‘Course, if humans did that, they’d drown…anyway, even if I couldn’t smell anythin’; I’ve made this trip enough times to just sorta…know where we should be.”

He stirred the water with an oar, as if stirring soup with a spoon. “Anyway, we’ve had a pretty easy crossin’, haven’t we? No phantasms jumpin’ into the boat or anything…y’know, usually this is a good sign. Maybe the ol’ Odsplut’s taken a shine to you lot.”

“DON’T COUNT ON IT,” said an unknown voice.

Suddenly, a colossal wave rose beneath the boat, carrying it upwards. It grew up around itself, gathering into a towering dark figure; a massive mountain of ink that held the rowboat in its hands like a toy.

In the end, a face appeared in the liquid, with piercing white eyes and a brilliant, unyielding grin.

“…WE WERE SAVING THEM FOR OURSELVES,” said the Odsplut. “YOU SEE, THEY SHOULD HAVE DIED MUCH EARLIER IN THE STORY; BACK AT THE MANSION…”

“OUR PLAN WAS FOR THEM TO SACRIFICE THEMSELVES IN A SHOW OF…FRIENDSHIP AND SOLIDARITY, AND SO THE BEAST WOULD LEARN TO APPRECIATE OTHER PEOPLE, RIGHT BEFORE THE END,” it went on. “YOU MIGHT THINK IT A BIT OF A PREMATURE ENDING TO THE CHARACTER ARC, BUT THAT SORT OF THING IS COMMON IN FAIRY TALES…ANYWAY, IT DIDN’T WORK FOR SOME REASON. SO WE WANTED TO SEE YOU UP CLOSE…AND PERSONAL…”

It pulled the group closer to its giant face. “…WE THINK WE SEE THE ANSWER NOW…THE COMMON DENOMINATOR…YOU ALL ARE TOO MIXED UP IN MAGIC AFFAIRS. THREE OUT OF FIVE OF YOU HAVE BEEN CURSED DIRECTLY, AND THE OTHER TWO…YES, THAT WOULD EXPLAIN IT…”

“Wh-what’s he talking about…?” whispered Lucy.

“Us, I think…” Dreadli replied.

“He’s sayin’ you’ve messed up his story…which can’t lead anywhere good,” said Uriel. “Er…excuse me, Mr. Odsplut, sir, but it sounds to me like you’ve got half a mind to kill these fine folks, and I’d just like to—”

“OH, YOU AS WELL; YOU AS WELL,” it answered. “THIS ENTIRE PLOTLINE HAS GONE MUCH TOO FAR IN THE WRONG DIRECTION; NOW IT MUST ALL BE THROWN OUT. BECAUSE, YOU SEE, THE ENDING YOU WISH FOR IS SIMPLY UNACCEPTABLE. YOU WILL NEVER REACH THE MOON.”

“But…why not??” asked Dreadli. “Why are you trying to stop us? You work for Mère L’Oye, don’t you? Instead of sending the phantasms to unwrite everyone, you should be helping her! That’s all we’re trying to do!”

“NO, IT IS NOT,” it answered. “YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU ARE TRYING TO DO. YOU’VE COME ALL THIS WAY FOR THE SAKE OF A SILLY RUMOR…ALTHOUGH, NOW THAT WE THINK ABOUT IT, BLAMING JACK FOR ALL OF THIS WAS SO BRILLIANT, IT MAY HAVE BEEN INTENTIONAL…YES, WE ARE A GENIUS…”

“Are you saying that Mère L’Oye’s son is not to blame for the unwriting…?” asked Pitch. “And if so, then who is? Was it you?? Have you turned traitor on your own creator??”

“OH, NO; THAT IS THE ONE THING WE COULD NEVER DO. WE ARE LOYAL UNTO DEATH…FROM THE BEGINNING OF LACONTE TO THE END, WE EXIST TO SERVE OUR LADY…EVEN IF IT MEANS WE MUST DESTROY EVERYTHING SHE CREATED. FROM ME ALL WAS BROUGHT FORTH INTO THE WORLD, AND TO ME IT WILL ALL BE RETURNED…IN PREPARATION…”

“I think I’ve heard quite enough of this,” Pitch said. She turned to Azor. “All right, you: you have my permission to make this creature explode.”

“I was not waiting for your permission,” Azor replied. He stared at the Odsplut gravely. “…If it has not been destroyed by now, I fear my power will not be effective against it.”

“WELL, WHAT DID YOU EXPECT?” said the Odsplut. “YOUR POWER BELONGS TO US. WE ARE POWER. WE ARE SOUL…WE ARE EVERYTHING IN EXISTENCE, AND YOU CANNOT STAND AGAINST US. AFTER ALL…YOU ARE ONLY WORDS.”

The waves of ink surged again, surrounding them and obscuring everything.

Through the liquid, Dreadlilocks swore she could see the rising moon, finally appearing over the dark sea. It shimmered and sparkled, brighter even than the white void. An ethereal semicircle slowly growing, opening the door to the world where gods lived, where all questions had answers.

She thought about reaching towards it, as if she might be able to touch it. Crouching in the rowboat, helpless against the enveloping darkness, she couldn’t think of anything else to do.

But before she knew it, it was too late even for that.