A boot grazed the tripwire strung up between two posts under the bottom floor of the village. Jasper's head came mere inches from a ball of mud filled with spikes hanging precariously above. Now Jasper stood by the entrance to the north side of the under village. The larger stilts were less common on this side, with clusters of bamboo holding up the platforms instead.

Several pyres burning bodies along the rising hillside gave the ground an evil glow and the air a wicked smell. Down the stretch of sand were curved rows of fortifications made from five foot long wooden spikes. Scattered everywhere, except straight ahead down the path, were dozens of imperceivable holes dug six foot deep and covered in debris.

At the edge of the beach, nearing the woods was a trench dug nearly a mile long. It was deep enough for a person to stand in, and sure enough, Jasper found Throng at the far end pounding his shovel desperately into the dirt wall.

Forked and sharpened twigs riddled the ground behind the trench. They would act like caltrops and force anyone climbing out of the pit to think twice about where they put their hands and feet.

"How's the digging?" Jasper fully expected an exhausted sigh in response.

"Terrible! Can't we just make more of those spikey things?"

"The fences? Not without tearing apart the entire village for wood. Besides, I just wanted you to know a few different things. Now you can fix 'er up however you want, once I leave."

"You're going to leave!? What about that thing when it comes back? I mean I don't give a damn if it kills me, but the others need you."

"I'll fight it once more, then it will be a few months before both moons are in the sky again. I'm only human. I can't protect them by myself."

"What are you trying to say?"

"Have you ever been to the third floor? The war-room?"

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The war room was locked. So the mechanism was promptly blasted with a sawn off shotgun. The door swung open to a large circular room draped with family banners of all designs (both magnificent and crude) and lined with all manner of weapons. At the end of the room near the staircase was a small desk with the only soul in the room. The desk clerk was a striking blonde lady despite two left arms both pinned to the desk by a long nail. Solid black eyes looked up at them full of shiny specks of dust, "the strategy room is closed. All intellectuals are indisposed infinitely."

"Go get Crow."

"She's too far gone, Jasper."

"So is everyone else. Crow has a way with this stuff."

Throng left without another word, and the room dropped several degrees. Jasper took one last look at the trapped woman and climbed the dark staircase. Every step of the way she called out to him, "the strategy room is closed. The strategy room is closed."

The room was as large as downstairs, but not nearly as empty. A bench desk circled the walls, and a hexagonal table sat in the middle. Just enough room was between both for excessive amounts of pacing. None of the strategists were pacing, though. They all sat slumped around the table and walls with a pistol clutched in each of their hands.

Jasper pushed a button by one of the generals, causing tiny metallic bugs to float out of the sides of the table. They arrange themselves to make walls and prisms to reflect the light that shoots up from bulbs in the table. A final overhead blue light flickered continuously in an attempt to bathe all of the existing lines. In the flashes of light, blood could be seen on the table. All of the uniformed and armored men wore bullet holes uniformly in their skulls.

A three-dimensional map of the village's side of the gulf came into view as the hologram lights settled. X's, O's, and different colored lines made it clear that the group was working out tactics, but not fast enough, it seemed.

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"How is it upstairs?" Throng was about to walk up, and Crow was inspecting the mutant lady's wound.

Jasper locks eyes with the strange lady, "The strategy room is closed."

"Jasper, it's going to take some effort to get her unstuck. We need to get this... giant needle out of the table first. Luckily, she seems out of it."

"Does she seem dangerous?" Throng's concern showed how unwilling he was to trust.

"She's pinned to a table."

"He means if we get her out," Jasper walked around the desk and gave the needle a slight tug. It didn't budge, but neither did the desk clerk flinch. "What's your name?"

"The strategy room..."

"Is closed, right. Because Temnota came through. What's your name?"

"Jasper, we've already tri..."

"Mirabelle," her voice was so low they almost missed it entirely.

"Look, Mirabelle, I know it's the last thing you want to talk about, but it's the only thing that you can think about right now, and it's not going away. So tell me what happened."

"He came through. He showed us what is in the stars and they couldn't take it."

Crow took the back end of a wood cutting ax and swung up at the bottom of the needle. It popped loose, and the desk made a squeaky crunch. Mirabelle didn't even notice, "It happened all at once, like it was only one loud gunshot. But it wasn't their fault. They saw what was in the stars."

Crow noticed an untouched shotgun under the desk, one that Mirabelle could have reached even with the strange piece of metal through two hands her third arm was still free, "You saw what was in the stars to, but you're still here."

There was a long pause as Mirabelle's memories collected themselves, "I saw some good."

Jasper looked into her strange eyes for a glimpse of the person underneath the void, "Focus on that, Mirabelle. My brother used to tell me to think of three things, good stuff that will always be here. Things like blue skies, green trees, and fuzzy bunnies."

"Fuzzy bunnies?"

"Fuzzy bunnies."

Smiley soon showed up with Harriet's medical cart and attached a stretcher to the top of it. Smiley and Crow wheeled their patient out of the building to figure out the wound. Mirabelle could be heard whispering fuzzy bunnies the whole way out.

Jasper picked up the axe from the desk. Just a simple wood chopping tool.

"Catch," the weapon soared across the room as Jasper began to circle.

"Wouldn't it be easier to teach me to use a gun?"

"Yes. It would be too easy. You would go about using them if you had one. At least with these you have to think about it before you... jump the gun."

"Well, what about a sword?"

"We've only got three days. It's also too easy, but it's also too hard. Once you can wrap your head around that you'll know when to use a sword."

"Pfffff... Riddles."

Jasper selected another axe from the wall, a mischievous look lit up under the brim of his cowboy hat, "riddle me this. Why did the blacksmith make an axe."

"Because he's a blacksmith?"

"To get a-head in life."

He took a wide swing that Throng easily backed away from, but then Jasper started jabbing with the tip of the blade, "the lightest tap is enough to kill. It's important to know that, but it's more important that your enemy knows that."

The next step in came with a somewhat stronger stab, and Throng flinched.

But Jasper hadn't struck.

Instead, the Wanderer looped the axe's hook around Throng's leg and flipped him over backwards, "I see I've got you hooked on the axe."

Despite the jokes, he didn't relent. Jasper slapped aside the downed man's leg aside, so there was nothing in the way of gaining mount and pressing the advantage. Their axe handles clashed together, and both men tried to out muscle each other.

"Don't lose sight of the goal," Jasper chuckled down at Throng and gave up on the pushing contest only to flip the axe blade around to smack Throng three times in the arm with the blunt end.

"You wouldn't push your handle against the side of a tree. You just want to chop them down. Before they chop you down."

"That one doesn't even make sense!"

"Alright, one more drill, then we repeat."

"Drill! You were just attacking randomly! How am I supposed to remember any of that?"

"By repeating. Ready?"

Before he could even respond, Jasper punched him square in the chest, straight kicked to the stomach, and brought the axe down close to Throng's neck, "and now it's your turn. Have you got any questions to 'axe'?"

"I get the feeling you just wanted to make all of these axe puns."

"Ha! Now you're getting it. But the real reason is that an axe is a tool. Tools should be taught before weapons. If we learn to destroy first, then nothing will ever get built."

After two hours of doing the same fight sequence back and forth, they both stood sweating and leaning on their axes.

"So, next we do spinny dippy shit until our arms can't handle any more."

There are several different ways to twirl an axe, and each one they did was fancier than the last.

"This seems useless. Why would I spin my axe around behind my back?"

"You wouldn't, but your opponent is going to walk right up with all of the cockiness they can muster, grab your weapon and try to wrench it out of your hand only to find out that it's your axe and it does what you want it to. Also, you're gonna feel the burn if you finish a workout like this."