Master Jiggywiggy shook his angular, golden head as he watched the bear and bird depart from his temple. They were working much more slowly than he would have liked; he knew of course that tracking the resurrected Gruntilda was difficult for them, but he was desperate to reclaim his precious jiggies. . . and the duo just wasn't fast enough. They had only now cleared Glitter Gulch Mine, and even then they hadn't found all of the jiggies scattered there.

I suppose it's better than nothing, though, the priest thought. He crossed the temple, past the great Crystal Jiggy, to the doorway; peering out, he saw the pair disappear, heading for Pine Grove. When they were out of sight, he emerged from the temple to address his disciple, who might have been his twin save for the color of his eyes-- a warm brown compared to Jiggywiggy's green.

"Bring the jiggies those two gave you inside," Jiggywiggy commanded the disciple, glancing at the setting sun on the horizon. "It's almost dark , so you might as well come in for the night. No one else will be visiting."

"Yes, Master Jiggywiggy," the disciple said obediently, scooping up the pile of jiggies resting beside him. Jiggywiggy turned and went back into the temple, leaving his disciple to follow and to lock the temple doors behind them.

Jiggywiggy stood by the golden monolith of jiggies and tapped his foot impatiently under his robe as the disciple fumbled with the locks, trying to manipulate them without dropping his stack of jiggies. He finally succeeded, then trotted over to Jiggywiggy with the golden pieces.

"How many have the bear and bird brought us so far?" Jiggywiggy asked, eyeing the pile. It wasn't nearly as large as he would have liked.

"Nine, sir." The disciple held the pile steady as Jiggywiggy took the jiggy on top and fit it into place on the monolith. Jiggywiggy sighed heavily.

"They're certainly taking their time." He narrowed his eyes and took another jiggy from the stack.

"Yes, sir," the disciple murmured. "Although I imagine collecting jiggies must be hard work when they're scattered all over. . . ."

"Mmn," Jiggywiggy hummed disapprovingly. He wasn't in the mood to be contradicted; the disciple recognized this and fell silent.

Jiggywiggy continued to add the collected jiggies to the monolith, but there were only eight when he had finished. He glanced at the disciple expectantly and found the other looking at him with a slightly worried expression in his brown eyes.

"Well? Where's the other jiggy?" Jiggywiggy demanded. "You said there were nine, didn't you?"

"Y-yes. . . ." The disciple took a deep breath, then reached into a pocket of his robe and pulled out a handful of something. "The last one, it's. . . it's broken." He opened his hand to reveal three chunks of gold which had once formed a single jiggy.

"Broken?" Jiggywiggy was otherwise speechless for a moment, then he spluttered, "How-- how did this happen? What did they do to it?"

"The bear told me that it was embedded in a rock in Glitter Gulch," the disciple said quickly. "They had to grind the rock up to extract the jiggy, and. . . well, the jiggy got ground up too." When Jiggywiggy only stared at him, the disciple hurried on, "Look, the pieces still fit together. Can't we just put all three in the monolith and--"

"And desecrate the Crystal Jiggy with a broken monolith?" Jiggywiggy snarled. "Have all the hours I've spent teaching you been for nothing? Only perfection is worthy of the Crystal Jiggy!"

The disciple's form drooped a little, and he stammered at first, then said, "B-but Master. . . I couldn't just turn them away. They did the best they could, and they didn't have any way to put it back together either--"

"They were foolish to think it was acceptable in the first place!" Jiggywiggy turned away from him and stormed over to the Crystal Jiggy, wondering if he needed to add the obvious for emphasis: that the disciple was also foolish to have accepted the broken jiggy as proof of the bear and bird's worth.

In an unusual display of determination, the disciple followed him, protesting, "They're just trying to help you!"

"They are only helping me so I'll help them," Jiggywiggy replied coldly, turning with a grumble to face the disciple once more. "Besides, who serves the Crystal Jiggy isn't important-- only that the work gets done."

For the first time Jiggywiggy could remember, the disciple expressed anger towards him, narrowing his brown eyes at his master. "You don't care about them at all, do you?" the disciple cried. "Don't you think that saving their friends is a lot more important than that stupid Crystal Jiggy?"

Jiggywiggy gaped at him an instant, aghast partially at the blasphemy towards the Crystal Jiggy, but mostly because the disciple was daring to talk back to him. He's never done that before, Jiggywiggy thought. Never crossed me, never! Hardly conscious of what he was doing, Jiggywiggy drew back his hand and slapped his disciple across the face; Jiggywiggy's palm stung at the force with which it came in contact with the disciple's golden head. The disciple's eyes widened with humiliation and anguish.

"How dare you say such things to me?" Jiggywiggy hissed, although he had to force out the words. He already regretted the action-- the look in his disciple's eyes pained his heart-- but he felt he had to say something to maintain his authority.

The disciple didn't answer. He silently clutched the broken jiggy to his chest, then turned and fairly ran from the sanctuary through the door that led to his own small room-- but not before Jiggywiggy saw tears welling in his eyes.

Jiggywiggy almost went after him, but instead, he turned back to the Crystal Jiggy. He needs to learn more restraint. . . and more respect, he told himself, even as he clenched his hands into fists at his sides in an attempt to restrain himself. The Crystal Jiggy is more important than any of us, and I cannot continue to activate it for those who are not worthy. He knows that.

But that was the problem. . . the disciple knew, and he didn't seem to care. Instead, he sympathized with the bear and bird. Of course, Jiggywiggy felt sorry for them as well, but not sorry enough to help them for nothing. The disciple, however. . . . The bear and bird mean more to him than the Crystal Jiggy does, Jiggywiggy thought, glaring at its hard blue surface without seeing it. . . . And therefore, they mean more to him than I do, as well.

Jiggywiggy turned on his heel and passed through the curtain in the back of the temple's chancel, out into the small courtyard beyond. He sometimes went there to meditate or to break the monotony of the be-jiggied walls of the temple. In the courtyard, those walls abutted the cliff face on all sides so that most of the outside world was hidden; Jiggywiggy could see only a patch of the sky directly overhead. He tilted his head up to gaze at it, its azure color deepening into a richer, darker blue as the sun set. One star was already visible, twinkling faintly.

Jiggywiggy remained there for some time: he lost track of the passing minutes, but the sun had set completely and the sky had turned from blue to sheer black, save for the pinpoints of other stars, before he returned to the temple. For the time he stood outside, Jiggywiggy had managed to clear his thoughts of everything: the bear and the bird and the witch. . . the disciple and the Crystal Jiggy. However, it was impossible to forget any of them inside, where the Crystal Jiggy and the golden monolith glistened accusingly.

There was no indication that the disciple had been back in the nave of the temple since their confrontation. Jiggywiggy gazed at the door to his chamber, struggling: he felt he should just leave his disciple alone there to sulk, but the thought of passing a whole night without a resolution was unbearable.

And maybe. . . maybe I should apologize, Jiggywiggy thought. I shouldn't have struck him, no matter what he said to me. I shouldn't. . . shouldn't have made him cry. He imagined the apology he'd give the disciple-- yes, even apologizing first-- and the relief and gratitude in those expressive eyes as his disciple pleaded for forgiveness in turn.

However, when Jiggywiggy tapped on the disciple's door, there was no response. Jiggywiggy hesitated a moment, then pushed the door open, narrowing his eyes. If he thinks he can hurt me by refusing to let me in--

But the room was empty. Jiggywiggy could tell that at a glance, for the furnishings consisted only of the futon where the disciple slept and a trunk in which he kept his belongings. Both items were still there, but the disciple was gone.

Jiggywiggy stumbled out of the room and looked around the temple, wondering if somehow he could have overlooked the disciple's presence. Finding nothing, he even checked his own chamber, to no avail. Jiggywiggy finally returned to the disciple's room and opened his trunk. It was empty, but then, the disciple did not seem to own any possessions other than the clothes he wore daily. One other fact gave Jiggywiggy some hope: the disciple had not left behind the silver jiggy medallion he wore which, like Jiggywiggy's own golden medallion, marked him as a member of the Crystal Jiggy's sect.

If he were abandoning the Crystal Jiggy, he would not have kept the medallion, Jiggywiggy thought, knowing that the disciple was too scrupulous to steal the medallion which Jiggywiggy himself had placed on his chest. Yet. . . where could he have gone at night, without telling me?

He went to the door of the temple, which the disciple had so carefully guarded, and unlocked it. Jiggywiggy stepped outside and looked around at the Wooded Hollow. By the faint light from the moon and stars, a few monsters wandered here and there; Jiggywiggy could even make out the entrance to Mayahem Temple nearby. There was, however, no disciple.

He's gone. The realization felt like something frigid pressed against Jiggywiggy's chest.

"Disciple!" he suddenly called as loudly as he could, surprising himself. He hadn't meant to. . . . "Disciple!" One of the meandering gruntlings gave him a funny look, but he got no other response.

--

to be continued