Page 63 of Velveteen vs. The Consequences of Her Actions

“I do! Believe me, if you’re not my Iris, I want her back more than anything. Except for the part where I’ve been afraid for years that one day you were going to wake up and realize that you could do better than a weather-slinger named after a T.S. Eliot poem. You’re one of the top three superheroes in the world. I wouldn’t even be second string if I weren’t with you.”

“I don’t remember your real name, but I remember so much else, and you need to stop thinking like that,” said Iris sharply. “If I’m your Iris, and I’ve been making you feel that way, we need to talk. If I’m not your Iris, then as soon as I’m gone, you and she need to talk. Because you’re amazing. You deserve to know that. Now come on. Let’s go find out whether the world is broken.”

Hyacinth followed her out of the kitchen. It seemed that there was nothing else to say.

* * *

“This is a terrible plan,” said Velveteen.

“All plans are terrible plans until they succeed, and then they become the best plans ever,” said Jack. The four of them were trudging through a snowbank that smelled like hot chocolate and pine-scented air freshener. The sky above them was a rainbow of living light, and Iris had barely taken her eyes off of it since the snow globe had dropped them all in the North Pole.

“Are we really going to see Santa?” asked Hyacinth, eyes shining.

“How’s the phrase ‘fuck, I hope not, I am really running out of the willpower required not to punch him in his smug, stupid face’?” asked Vel. “Because I think that’s way closer to the truth.”

“You know, we don’t like it much when people come here to punch the Big Man,” said a voice from behind them. All four turned. A white-haired boy in a red and white suit was standing atop the snow, which would have been more impressive if he hadn’t been wearing snowshoes. He looked enough like Jack to seem related, and enough like himself to be a stranger. He blinked at her, eyebrows lifting, before he asked, “Universe-jumping? That’s adventurous.”

“Are you saying that because I’m a girl?” asked Jack, frowning.

He shook his head. “No, because you’re a me, and I would have to be in a very adventurous mood to do something like that. Well, maybe if I needed a kidney. Do you need a kidney?”

“No,” said Jack.

“That’s a relief.”

“We need access to your Hall of Mirrors,” said Velveteen. “We’re looking for a door.”

“A door.” Jack—er, Jack II—looked at her flatly. “Miss, I know you’re not the Velma from our universe, but our Hall of Mirrors contains only, well, mirrors. If you want a door, you’ll need to go to the Hall of Doors.”

Velveteen and Jack I exchanged a startled look before Velveteen asked, carefully, “What’s the Hall of Doors?”

“That’s how Papa visits all the children in the world, of course. It used to be fireplaces, but not many children have fireplaces these days. He switched over to a closet-based access system in the 1950s. Why?”

If Hyacinth had been looking for proof that Iris wasn’t her Iris, she would have received it in that moment, as the light-manipulator joined Jack I and Velveteen in staring at Jack II.

Finally, Velveteen said, “Take us there.”

“Of course,” said Jack II. He bowed. “Follow me.” They did.

The Hall of Doors was located right next to the Workshop, presumably to make it easier for Santa to refill his sack. It was a large, ornate structure, rendered odd by the shining second door that seemed to have been painted over the first. Velveteen made straight for it, Jack I on her heels. Iris paused, looking at Hyacinth.

“Cin…” she said.

Hyacinth shook her head. “Just go,” she said. “If any part of you is mine, she’ll come back to me.”

Velveteen plunged into the ghostly door, vanishing. Jack did the same. Iris ran after them. As she stepped through, her image split in two for a moment, one in white, one in black. The one in black disappeared an instant later, following the others out of the world. The one in white collapsed.

“Lena!” shouted Hyacinth, running to kneel in the snow next to her girlfriend. The flickering door was gone. Somehow, that didn’t matter. “Hey. Hey. You okay?”

“Alexis?” Iris opened her eyes and blinked up at Hyacinth. “I had the weirdest dream…”

Hyacinth laughed, and everything was going to be okay.

* * *

The other side of the door was absolutely nothing. It wasn’t black, because black would have been something, and it wasn’t white, because white would have been something; it was nothing, stretching on forever.

Velveteen, who could not, in fact, fly, made a small sound of dismay. “How am I not falling right now?” she asked, looking to her left, where Jack was clutching one of her snow globes and trying not to hyperventilate. “How am I not plummeting to my doom?” She looked to her right. Polychrome was there, incarnate once again in black and rainbows and a bewildered expression. “You, I get, but how are we not falling?”