The ground trembled beneath their feet as they landed.

"That feels ominous," Shane said.

"Just keep moving," Brock said. "The next rift isn't far."

It was hot, wherever they were. Red sand and sparse vegetation for as far as Emmet could see. Red dirt, sparse vegetation and--

"Is that--" Shane started.

Brock turned to look and for the first time Emmet had ever seen, he was speechless.

"That's a giant turtle, Brock," Shane said.

Brock opened his mouth, then closed it.

"It's like a dinosaur," he whispered, awed.

Then he shook his head. "We need to keep moving."

"I th-think there are p-people on it'sss back," Emmet said. "And wha-what's that run-running around it's feet."

Something small, or at least small in comparison, weaved between the feet of the immense turtle. It paused, raised its head and then darted towards them, covering the distance in alarming ground-eating bounds.

"Move!" Brock shouted. "Rift is straight ahead!"

They took off across the sandy red expanse of the desert, Shane at the forefront, Brock and Emmet bringing up the rear.

Ian was rifling in his bag as he ran, muttering to himself.

"Just need a small boom," Emmet thought he heard him say.

A whining bark came from behind them, and Emmet glanced back over his shoulder. It was just for a second, but it was long enough. His foot came down on a rock and he stumbled to the side and fell, hitting the dirt hard enough for his glasses to slide off his nose.

The sandy furred beast lunged at him and suddenly it was all Emmet could do to fend it off.

"Ugh, gross! Stop it!" he demanded as the creature licked fervently at his face and fingers, its tail wagging hard enough its whole body seemed to quiver.

With great effort, Brock hauled the creature off of Emmet. Emmet picked up his glasses and put them back on his face before wiping his hands on his pants.

"What is that?" he asked.

Brock, his arms locked around the creatures neck, had his face turned to the side to avoid the animal's tongue. He wasn't having much luck.

"I don't know, but it seems friendly," Brock said, scrunching up his face as it bathed his right cheek.

"I think it's cute," Vanessa said, scratching the creature between the set of fuschia stalks atop its head.

It wagged its tail even harder and tried to lick her hand.

She giggled.

A sharp whistle cut through the air.

"Kei Ta!" a distant voice called.

The creature, Kei Ta, twisted out of Brocks grip and dashed back towards the voice. It stopped once and turned to look at them, emitting one low whine before bounding off in its strange three-legged gait.

Lloyd helped Emmet to his feet while Brock wiped his cheek off on his shirt.

"Gross," he said.

Vanessa laughed, but Ian was already moving to a point not far ahead.

"Here," he said, squatting at the rim of the rift.

He held his hands over it.

"Cold," he said. "We might want to bundle up."

Vanessa sighed as she set her kit down and started digging out hat and gloves.

"I hate the cold ones," she complained, wrapping a scarf around her neck and zipping up a thin, reflective silver jacket.

Emmet stood, hands in his pockets, gazing uncertainly into the rift. There was an awful lot of snow from this angle. He regretted again his lack of preparation.

"Here," Lloyd said, handing him his own jacket.

Emmet looked at him in surprise. "But what w-will you wear?"

Lloyd grinned. "I'm pretty durable, kid. Just take it."

Emmet reached out a hand and took the proffered jacket. It was soft and supple, and when he put it on, it hung almost to his knees.

Lloyd's smile was covered by his scarf, but Emmet could see his eyes crinkle.

"Bit big," he said, "but it'll have to do."

"Th-thanks," Emmet said.

The ground still shook with the plodding steps of the giant turtle and Brock turned to watch its slow progress.

Then he sighed. "Alright, Shane. You first."

***

It was unbelievably cold. The jacket Lloyd had given him was surprisingly warm for something so thin, but Emmet's nose and fingers were exposed and the arctic air bit into them without mercy. He felt the front of his forehead bunch in pain. It was like brain freeze, without the benefit of ice cream.

Pulling his hands into his sleeves, he balled them into fists and tried to will them warm again.

Ian, his fingers clumsy from the mitts he wore, was analyzing his phone.

"Looks like this is it," he said, "Little blue beast should be around here somewhere."

Brock bent to examine the snow drifts around them.

"There," he said, pointing to a faint track in the snow. "We follow that."

***

It felt like they followed that track forever, but in actuality, it was probably closer to half an hour before they spotted the large Spotted Blue Nagra up ahead. It was easy to see against the glaring white backdrop of snow.

They all stopped and Ian dug into his backpack. He pulled out several small cylinders.

"Here, hold this," he said, passing one to Emmet.

"What's th-this?" Emmet asked.

"It's a--you know, just don't worry about it."

Emmet held the candle-shaped device like it was a stick of dynamite. For all he knew, it WAS a stick of dynamite. Most of Ian's gadgets did tend to explode.

"Is itttt o-k-kay if I-I w-w-worry just a-a bit?"

Ian's laugh was muffled by his scarf.

"It's a stasis field generator," Ian said. "They work in sets of four. You take that one and get into a spot to the right hand, rear of our little blue friend over there. Vanessa will take the left hand rear and Shane and I will cover the front two corners. When we're each in place, you hit this button here."

He pointed to a switch on the top of the device.

"Wha-what does it d-do though?" Emmet asked.

"It'll create a stasis cell for us to carry him in."

"W-will it-it attack?"

Ian shrugged, "It might. It's not poisonous but it does pack a pretty mean pinch."

Emmet's face must have paled because Ian hurriedly added, "Don't worry though, that's what Brock and Lloyd are for. They run interference. Just make sure they're clear of the square before hitting the switch."

Emmet swallowed and Ian patted him on the back. "You'll be fine."

***

Brock's heart was skipping beats in his chest. No matter how many times he did this, it always gave him a rush.

Spread out ahead of him, Shane, Ian, Vanessa and Emmet carried their SFGs. Emmet held his as far in front of him as his arm would reach, his knuckles white, either from the cold or fear. Or maybe both.

The Nagra remained unaware of them until Shane and Ian crossed into its narrow line of sight. It stopped crawling forward and raised the front half of its body to chitter at them.

Brock tensed as it clicked its pincers and lunged at Ian. Ian danced back and Brock darted forward, throwing his body on top of the Nagra.

His fingers brushed its slimy underside and it bucked, trying to throw him off. Brocks arm slid forward into pincher range and he grunted as he felt the sting. That would leave a welt.

He wiggled his arm backwards and brought one leg up, trying to pin it with his knee.

"Clear!" Ian shouted.

Brock tried to untangle his arm safely from the Nagra, but earned two more pinches in the process.

Throwing his arms wide, he rolled to the side, sending up puffs of snow.

There were four clicks and a humming sound filled the air, making the hairs on Brock's arm stand up. He was afraid for a moment that maybe he hadn't rolled far enough, but the humming turned into a zipping noise and abated.

Brock rolled to his feet and examined his arm. He touched the welts gingerly and winced.

Ian bent to pick up a small marble-sized sphere sitting on top of the snow. He peered inside it, then carefully tucked it into his pocket.

"Well that's done," he said.

"N-now wh-what?" Emmet asked.

His face was flushed and his eyes were bright. Brock grinned. He remembered his first time.

"Now," he said, "we deliver him to the safe zone. Ian?"

Ian was already digging through his bag. He had to pull off his mitts with his teeth to better search with his fingers.

"Aha," he said, "found you."

He pulled out a small brass doorknob and held it front of him.

The air shimmered and a door appeared around the knob.

"What's say we get in out of the cold?" Ian asked.

He turned the knob and opened the door.

***

Emmet followed Ian through the doorway, and warm air immediately fogged up his glasses. He pulled them from his face and wiped them off with the sleeve of his jacket. He could see the blurry form of Ian doing the same thing.

When placed back on his face, he almost took them off again to check them.

They were inside a bar. A loud, raucous bar. It could have been a backwater biker bar except for its occupants. Playing what looked vaguely like pool in the corner were a pair of what Emmet was pretty sure were giant blue octopodes. Seated over there in the booth was a tall, stick like--well, stick. It was reading a book and making notes on a seperate sheet of paper. Behind the bar was what Emmet could only call a sasquatch. It turned and waved to them.

"Afrag! Senti bash levon nish ar troc pravmo!" he called in a deep booming voice.

Brock smiled and led them towards the bar. "I bet you say that to all the humans."

The sasquatch laughed.

Ian pulled the marble out of his pocket and placed it on the counter.

"Don't know how far he got before he hit New Jersey, but he got at least five worlds deep before we caught him."

The sasquatch lifted the marble to his eye and peered inside. He rumbled something to Ian, then reached under the counter and pulled out a locked box.

Pressing his hairy thumb over the lock, it popped open and he carefully counted out a handful of small crystal beads.

"Oh come on, Henry," Ian said, "We had to outrun a pack of Xaxom and tackle a Nagra in minus 60 weather. A Blue Spotted Nagra at that."

Henry sighed and counted out three more beads before snapping the lid shut and returning the box to its place under the counter.

Ian scooped up the pile and handed it to Brock, keeping one crystal for himself.

"Is Church in?" he asked, rolling the bead between his fingers. "I need to re-supply."

Henry nodded and pointed to a set of stairs at the back of the bar. Ian thanked him and headed off towards them.

Jerking his chin in Emmet's direction, Henry asked what sounded like a question.

"Yeah, he's new," Brock said. "Fell in through the hole in Jersey."

Henry asked another question and Brock turned to consider Emmet before nodding.

"Yeah," he said. "I suppose he is."

Henry said something else and Brock laughed.

"Never one to let an opportunity pass, are you?" Brock said, placing two beads back on the counter. "Fine. Better make it the full package then."

Henry scooped the beads off the table and disappeared into the back room of the bar. He returned a moment later with a backpack and a small box. He gave both to Brock.

"Come here," Brock said, waving Emmet over.

Emmet approached with some trepidation.

"If you're going to be hanging out with us," Brock said, flipping open the box, "we're going to have to get you properly outfitted."

He pulled put out a small, thin wire and held it out to him.

"Universal translator," he explained. "You put it behind you ear."

With a trembling hand, Emmet reached for the wire. Brock held it back.

"You know what I'm asking, don't you?" he said.

Emmet nodded.

"Do you really want this?" Brock continued. "This is hard work, and dangerous."

Emmet considered for a moment. He had never felt so scared in his life as he had the last two days. He had also never felt so alive.

Brock held out the translator again, and Emmet reached out to take it.