Fields hadn't really known what sort of destination to expect, but it would be fair to say the garish, red and yellow, neon-bedecked establishment, in front of which Peregrine had just parked Pearl, wasn't it.
"So, this entity of yours—it works at a pizza place?"
"Don't be ridiculous, Fields. The entity is a highly evolved, pan-dimensional, hyper-intelligent, transcendental being, a consciousness whose awareness spans the multiverse. Do you really think it's going to work at a pizza place?"
"Um, no?"
"Of course not. Besides, I'm pretty sure it's lactose intolerant."
The aspirin Fields had found in Featherstone's bathroom cabinet had taken the edge off his headache, but he was starting to wish he'd found—and taken—something a little stronger. "Right. Of course it is," he muttered. With a weary rub of his eyes, he forced his brain to process what Peregrine had just said (apart from the lactose intolerant bit). "Listen, if what you're telling me is true, and this entity thing of yours really is spread across the...the multiverse—and you're really, totally sure about that—well then, I guess that means there really must be a multiverse. That Featherstone's theories might actually be right. That Embers and the witch and Captain Comatose here"—he jerked a thumb at the inert prince—"might actually be from different universes."
"Well Fields, not to put too fine a point on it—duh. What the hell did you think was going on?"
"I don't bloody know, do I? Five minutes ago, I was running around the mean streets of the city, bringing down the kind of bad guys who you very definitely don't get in fairy tales. When your first day on the job hits you with inter-dimensional princesses and warty witches from other worlds, it's hard not be a little sceptical. I guess I thought there would be some other explanation—you know, Occam's razor and all that kind of stuff. I just hadn't figured out what it was yet. It would have helped if you'd told me the concept of whole other universes is old news."
Peregrine sighed. "You're right, partner. I'm sorry. When you deal with this stuff day in and day out, you tend to forget how clueless the noobs are—no offence. Listen, alternate universes, other worlds, interdimensional creatures, all that kind of stuff—they are old news. At least they are in Section F, anyway. Hell, they're pretty much what Section F are for."
"So, people like Featherstone, and his party tricks—they're old news, too?"
Peregrine ran a hand through her short, unruly hair, a look of uncharacteristic concern on her face. "I wish. Fields, there's always been a certain amount of...leakage from other worlds into ours. And obviously the other way around too, otherwise old Pearl here wouldn't be quite so awesome." She brushed a minuscule speck of dust from the gleaming dashboard. "And half my caseload is cleaning up the consequences. But, for want of a better word, that kind of leakage is natural—it's accidental, unintended, and for the most part, unpredictable. You know—it comes from wormholes, portals, spontaneous dimensional breaches and so on. All that sort of crap."
Fields stared at her. "You call that natural?"
"Well, yeah," continued Peregrine. "The multiverse is a messy place. Shit happens. But with Featherstone and the princesses, it's different. In this case, he's deliberately, specifically and successfully importing stuff from other worlds. Like, on purpose. I've never seen that before."
Embers gave a little sniff. "Stuff? Really, Peregrine?"
"Whoops. Sorry, Big E. But the point is, he's bringing in things he wants to bring in. Intentionally. Nothing random about it. Oh sure, it's princesses and witches now. But what's next? What if he's a D&D nerd and decides to import a dragon? Or King Kong? Or Godzilla, or a version of Hitler, or a killer cyborg or a flying, tentacled doughnut-monster or whatever? If everything is out there, then I guess, theoretically at least, he can bring in anything. Think about that, Fields. Anything. At all."
Fields thought about it. He didn't like it. "Okay, so clearly we need to find him and stop him, ASAP. Which kind of begs the question, why are we here?"
Peregrine gave her partner a puzzled look. "This is a pizza place. Why do you think we're here?"
His eyes widened. "No. You can't be serious. We're here for pizza?"
"Ha! When it comes to food, I'm always serious. And this place is great. The cook refuses to use any of those barbaric non-pizza ingredients, like pineapple or eggplant—he's a man after my own heart. I thought we'd just top up on the old carbs before we head off to interrogate the entity, wrangle the witch and finger Featherstone. And let's try not to get those mixed up, okay?"
Fields held up his hands. "You knock yourself out—I'm all carbed up, thanks."
Peregrine gave a sad shake of her head. "Oh, young padawan. Disappoint me, you do. Five minutes on the job and you've already forgotten the first rule of Section F. Ah well, I'm sure Embers will join me in the partaking of some quality pizza. How about it, princess?"
"Ooh, yes please, Peregrine. Being magicked, wooed, imprisoned, rescued and driven in an enchanted carriage does tend to make one rather peckish."
"Excellent."
"I do just have one question, though."
"Okay, hit me. Ow! What the hell?"
For what may well have been the first time that day, Fields felt the corners of his mouth tugging up into a grin. "You might want to watch what you say around Embers, Peregrine. She's quite the literal-minded princess."
"Oh, yeah." Giving her bicep a rub, Peregrine shot Embers a rueful smile. "That's quite an arm you've got there, slugger. What I meant to say was, what's your question?"
"Well, Peregrine my dear, I was just wondering—what exactly is pizza?"
Their actual destination, to Fields' surprise, turned out to be a nursing home. And the entity, to his even greater surprise, turned out to be an elderly Asian man. An elderly Asian man dozing in the sunlight of the home's extensive, manicured gardens.
"That's your pan-galactic, inter-dimensional, transcendental whatsit?" he demanded, as they walked over the lush, freshly mown lawns. "The old guy in the wheelchair?"
"Yep," replied Peregrine. "Well, actually, no. That's just the vessel it currently inhabits. It doesn't have an actual physical presence in our dimension, so it tends to kind of just, ah...borrow one."
"Wait a minute. You're telling me this thing takes over people? That it possesses them?"
"Well—more or less. But don't worry, it usually only goes for late-stage dementia patients. Says there's more room that way."
"Oh right, obviously that's okay then. Peregrine, what are we even hoping to achieve here? How's this...this thing supposed to help us find Featherstone?"
"Simple, Fields. Well, now that I think about it, it's probably horribly complicated. But anyway, because it's pan-dimensional, or multi-universal or whatever you might wanna call it, the entity is able to somehow sense disturbances across the various planes it inhabits; basically, it can tell when stuff is out of place. Stuff like Embers here—"
"Peregrine, I really must protest—"
"Sorry, people like Embers here, or the witch, or our dozy prince. This won't be the first time it's helped me find interdimensional interlopers. Anyways, come on over and I'll introduce you."
The old man didn't stir at their approach, and it was only when Peregrine placed a gentle hand on his shoulder that his eyes opened. When they did, they were looking straight at Fields.
Who gasped, and took an involuntary step back. The light of a million universes blazed in those dark eyes—a billion galaxies, a quadrillion suns. The vastness of time, the immensity of space, the birth of creation and the end of all things, life, death, love and hope, the ineffable enigmas of existence, all were contained within those stygian spheres, the two inscrutable, black eyes directing their dispassionate gaze at him, seemingly piercing down to his very soul. Only when they turned away and Fields started breathing again did he realise he'd stopped.
The dark eyes fell on Embers. Already fair, she became deathly pale, as the blood drained from her lovely, aristocratic features. "Oh...oh, my." The eyes moved on.
And at last, came to rest on Peregrine. There was a moment of hushed stillness, as even the birds fell silent, and it seemed as though the very world held its breath. Then, at last, the entity spoke.
"Ah, crap. Not you again."