Chapter 49: Scene 43 – Clown Weaver

"You don't need more minionzz," Holly begged, clinging tightly to Amanda's chest. "You have me. I can do anything thozze other minionzz could."

"I thought we were past this jealousy?" Amanda teased, scratching under Holly's exposed chin and claiming a smattering of honey for herself. The honey slime beside her slid off Amanda's body, leaving a trail of honey on Amanda's exposed skin. "This dungeon is a mess. I'd like to prepare before the next wave of customers."

"I guezz that makes senzze," Holly sighed, zipping her costume back up and tugging the blankets close. "Fine. Let me get drezzed and I'll join you. How do you expect to gather more cultists?"

"Not sure," Amanda mumbled. "I don't expect the answer to fall from the sky?" After invoking the cliche, Amanda paused for drama, holding her sticky hands in the air and waiting for something to happen.

"… what are you doing?" Holly slowly tilted her mascot helmet.

"Willing the world to give me answers." Amanda held up a finger. "Just wait a little longer. The hero always does this in television programs."

"I'm not sure that's how the World works," Holly thought about it herself. "But we are part of some grotesque play, so what do I know? If I open the curtains, perhaps I can ask the audience for advice?"

"How are you going to tell me my nonsensical idea doesn't work and then propose one of your own?" Amanda guffawed, each peal of laughter composed of harmonious bells and chimes.

What the two couldn't know was that the World had received their malformed request. Behind the scenes, the System had discerned that Amanda would need more assistance to function properly as the new Enemy of the World. That request was passed on to the Weavers of Fate, the Witches.

Witches shuffled along the Tapestry, knitting Fate back into shape wherever it fell flat. The future of the Neverlands, of Fate itself, was contained within the threads of the Tapestry. The future could be changed from its weave. The removal of Calico Dearheart from Fate had been foretold, but the ramifications of her removal had caused the Tapestry to fray and splinter, and that left the Weavers to fix whatever fell astray.

At this moment, two elderly witches were nestled up next to a bundle of frayed string, fighting over the thread with oversized needles and grumbling at the other's decisions. They had different ideas as how to handle this problem, and their frustration had boiled over into an argument.

"I think we should let Amanda discover the world for herself," Baba Yaga bickered, toying with an iron tooth. She was an elderly crone, white hair bundled into an untidy bun and uneven, yellowed nails gripping tight to a knobbly crook. She stamped her crook, inducing the other witch to flinch. "No doubt the Council of Knots will flock to her in time, and they shall act as her mentors. Our interference is not required to repair the Tapestry."

"Love, hear me out." Mombi held out both of her palms, each manicured nail of her fingers greased with bright red sparkles. "I've been fooling around with her thread for as long as I've known it! I should have the right to interfere here, too!"

"She would have been transgender with or without your assistance, Mombi." Baba Yaga stamped, scowling at Mombi. "You can't claim credit for every thread where a girl turns into a boy and vice versa. That's just Concept-theft, plain and simple."

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"Yes, but I drew her into this situation!" Mombi huffed. "I gave her the opportunity to change, allowed Calico and Amanda to meet! One stray email, and I sent her on the path to love. Am I a wicked witch for helping a gal out in her lowest moment? For trying to help everyone struggling to realize who they are inside?"

"What makes you a wicked witch is your collusion with the Tangled." Baba Yaga poked Mombi with a stick, shoving her and her poofy, oversized dress back and away from her. "Weavers believe in freedom. We should not be interfering with anyone's fate, Mombi!"

"I'm not interfering with her freedoms!" Mombi crowed back, pouting and restoring her footing. Mombi wasted no time drawing back to Baba Yaga's side, wrapping an arm around her waist and spreading her other palm out in a curved arch. "I'm helping her meet others! There's nothing wrong with sticking two people in a room and letting them sort things out! Besides, I think you'll like my plan, you old crone." Mombi twisted a lock of her auburn hair around her finger.

"Pot calls kettle black." Baba Yaga growled, exposing her iron fangs. "Let us hear it. How do you expect to get her in touch with a minion like she asked?"

"I expect to put her in touch with a clown." Mombi smiled, her mouth much too wide for her face. Baba Yaga didn't bother to count the extra teeth; it was expected for a Herald like Mombi to go off-model now and again.

"Ah, so you're going to meet her, then?" Baba Yaga joked, grinning back with iron and insincerity plastered over her face.

"What? No. Heavens! I'm not a clown," Mombi coughed. "I'm going to put her in touch with Lease. Think about it! Two clowns, one room? Both Royalty?"

"They'll tear each other apart," Baba Yaga whispered, black eyes glittering with delight.

"Precisely, and I expect my favorite to win." Mombi winked. "I'm glad you're on board, you old coot! I'll start dialing right now!" Mombi grabbed the thread which belonged to Lease, dragging it from the Tapestry and towards an old phone booth set up beside it. She finagled one end of the thread into the phone, tucking it in with one of her long and manicured nails, and twisted the rotary device.

Baba Yaga squeezed into the booth after Mombi, not about to miss a moment of history in the making. Pitting two Thrones against each other? This was why Mombi is her favorite. Baba Yaga let her gnarled and elderly fingers wrap around Mombi's free hand, leaning in to listen to what the telephone had to say.

Mombi gripped Baba Yaga's hand back tightly, grinning off-model once more. It was time to make a prank call! A clown witch's favorite kind of call.

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