Freezing Furnace was, like Spiral Mountain, just as they had left it, making Kazooie think that Mumbo really had sent them back to the same time as before. As she hefted Banjo onto her back to Talon Trot up a steep slope, she noticed one of Bozzeye's mole hills nearby. At least I don't have to talk to him this time, she thought with some satisfaction once they were up the slope and she could retreat into the backpack. If I'm going to have to argue with a visually-impaired mole, I want it to be Bottles.

The treacherous path to Grunty Industries involved swimming through another body of water-- this one icy cold-- and avoiding several monsters. Kazooie had to wonder how Grunty herself got in and out. Honestly, how efficient was it to build your factory in a nearly impossible-to-reach spot?

Banjo finally made it to the door to the Industries; when they entered, Kazooie felt a blast of hot air which at first felt good after the frigid world of Freezing Furnace. However, the lava-toasted atmosphere quickly grew oppressive as Banjo headed for Miss Bucket's part of the factory, dodging gruntlings and other monsters along the way.

"That loopy disciple's probably not even here anymore," Kazooie griped. "If he even came here at all. For all we know, he--"

"Shh!" Banjo shushed her, waving a hand in her direction. "Listen!" When Kazooie fell silent, she heard what Banjo had: a faint cry for help. After a moment, she was able to pinpoint its location.

"Up there," she said, pointing with a wing up a flight of stairs that led to a caged area. Sure enough, when she squinted, she was able to make out a reflection of light off a very familiarly-shaped golden object. "It's the disciple; he's gotten himself trapped or something," Kazooie groaned. "Excellent."

Banjo beat off another gruntling and climbed the stairs. At the top, they found the disciple huddled in one corner of the caged area; when he saw them, he scrambled to his feet with what Kazooie supposed was meant to be a look of elation-- no matter what Banjo said, she still had a hard time reading emotions on a mouth-less face.

"I was afraid you wouldn't hear me!" the disciple gasped in relief, stumbling over to them. He made a visible effort to control himself, straightening his robes self-consciously. "Praise the Crystal Jiggy you're here-- although what are you doing here?"

"We should be asking you that, Puzzle Boy," Kazooie muttered.

"Mr. Jiggywiggy asked us to come find you," Banjo explained. The disciple's brown eyes widened.

"H-he did?" Then his shoulders slumped, and he looked down at the mesh floor beneath their feet. "I suppose he wants his jiggy back."

"Actually--" Banjo began, but Kazooie cut him off impatiently.

"What're you doing up here, anyway? Couldn't find Miss Bucket even with those giant eyes of yours?"

"I was trying to get away from those horrible gruntlings!" the disciple explained. "Every time I tried to go farther, they attacked me! This is the only safe place I could find." He shivered. "I thought I was doomed to stay up here forever-- I never expected anyone to find me here! Since you came to look for me here, I suppose you know that I wanted to have the jiggy re-smelted--"

"Well, so far you aren't making much progress," Kazooie interrupted pointedly.

"Come on," Banjo told the disciple more kindly. "Just follow us-- we'll keep the gruntlings away while you go see Miss Bucket, then we can all go home."

Banjo and Kazooie led the way down the stairs again, with the disciple following them closely-- a little too closely for Kazooie's liking, who felt rather claustrophobic. The situation wasn't helped much by Banjo periodically removing the backpack and whacking gruntlings with it. If I make it out of this without a huge headache, I'll be surprised, she thought grumpily.

She and Banjo stood guard while the disciple clambered up to Miss Bucket. Kazooie couldn't hear the ensuing discussion-- a fact which made her rather glad; Miss Bucket grated on her nerves-- but a few moments later, the disciple returned to them clutching a very shiny jiggy.

"It's. . . it's beautiful," he murmured, holding it up to admire it. "I've never seen a brand new one before--"

"Yeah, it's great; can we go now?" growled the breegull.

The disciple was silent on the trek out of the Industries and back through Freezing Furnace. However, he hung back when Banjo approached the hut where the much younger version of Mumbo resided.

"Wait," the disciple called, causing Banjo to turn around. Kazooie stuck her head out of the backpack and glared at the disciple over Banjo's shoulder.

"What now?" she snapped.

"I. . . there's something else I want to do first, before we return to our time," stammered the disciple.

Even the good-natured Banjo sounded a little impatient as he asked, "What is it?"

The disciple moved closer to them and appeared to be having an internal debate. Finally, he blurted out, "I want to see Master Jiggywiggy's temple, here in this time. I want to know what he was like back. . . now."

Kazooie eyed him skeptically. "You've got it bad, don't you?"

"I dunno," Banjo murmured. "Mumbo had a good point about messing too much with time. If you go talk to Mr. Jiggywiggy now, it might change the future. . . or something."

"I won't talk to him!" the disciple promised, clutching his hands in front of him earnestly. "I promise, I won't let him even see me. I. . . I just. . . ."

Banjo looked back at the breegull questioningly. "Kazooie?"

She cringed, regretting the words even as she said them. "All right, all right. As long as we make it quick."

Kazooie continued to regret her acquiescence as they left Freezing Furnace and slowly made their way back to Spiral Mountain. It was obvious that the disciple was used to a rather sedentary life, for he traveled slowly and had to pause often to rest. Nearly an hour passed before they clambered down the vine-covered cliff and approached the Jinjo Oracle.

"Almost there," Banjo assured the disciple, who trudged after him.

"Ex. . . excellent," the disciple wheezed. He followed them through the farmlands that inexplicably surrounded Jiggywiggy's Temple, then stopped short as the temple came into sight.

"It looks so different," he whispered.

"Yeah, a little less ridiculous than in our time," Kazooie judged, "although those giant golden jiggies on the columns outside are still pretty tacky."

They approached the temple cautiously at first, but there was no sign of Jiggywiggy outside. Banjo quietly led them inside the walls surrounding the temple, then made his way over to a window. Peering in over the honey bear's shoulder, Kazooie saw Jiggywiggy inside, kneeling before the Crystal Jiggy at its place in the chancel.

"Wonder what he did with those giant statues of himself between now and the future," Kazooie mused, eying the gaudy golden monstrosities on either side of the Crystal Jiggy. "I never thought I'd say this, but our dear Jiggs is less conceited than this one."

"He looks so young," the disciple whispered, apparently not even hearing her as he gazed at his future master. Kazooie had to wonder just how he could tell. Then the disciple shocked her by asking abruptly, "What. . . what if I just stay here?"

"What?" Kazooie squawked. "After all that? Don't you dare--"

"I-I don't think he wants me back," the disciple interrupted in a plaintive tone. "Not in the future. But I could be his disciple here, now--"

"Did you not hear a word we said about screwing with time?" the breegull exploded, albeit in a whisper. "Do you have any idea how much damage that could cause? We need Jiggywiggy to help us get to Grunty in our time. If you stay here, there's no telling what changes there could be to the temple in the future!"

"But I can't go back!" wailed the disciple. "All he cares about in the future is getting jiggies to fix the golden monolith so that the Crystal Jiggy will work! He doesn't want me-- he hit me!"

"Cry me a river," pronounced Kazooie.

"He does want you back," Banjo interrupted the argument. "Mr. . . . uh, Disciple, I don't think he cares about the jiggy at all: he misses you."

The disciple gave him a desperate look, then turned back to the window to watch the younger Jiggywiggy inside. "You really think so?"

Kazooie gritted her beak in irritation, but Banjo only said gently, "Yeah, I really think so."

The disciple turned away from the window, though he still looked mistrustful. "All. . . all right. I'll go."

--

Banjo and Kazooie had been gone from the temple for no more than thirty minutes, when Jiggywiggy heard pounding on his door for a second time.

They can't possibly be back already, he thought as he tentatively approached the door. Unless something went wrong. . . .

"Who is it?" he called, not wanting to open for any other visitors.

"Who d'ya think it is, Goldilocks?" That was Kazooie all right.

Jiggywiggy pulled open the door and, sure enough, found the bear and bird standing before him. However, his gaze moved immediately past them to his disciple standing a few feet beyond. He stared fixedly at a point on the ground and clutched in his hands a new jiggy.

"How did you get back so quickly?" Jiggywiggy asked Banjo as he moved aside for them to enter, hoping his voice sounded steadier than it felt.

"When the past Mumbo sent us back to the future, he made sure we got here right after we left," explained the honey bear with a somewhat confused expression. "Or something like that."

"Yeah, but it's certainly been long enough for us," Kazooie griped. "Here's your disciple and your jiggy. I hope you're satisfied."

"Yes. I am." Jiggywiggy looked past them to his disciple, who still refused to meet his eyes. Jiggywiggy didn't want his two guests to realize how relieved and elated he felt to have his disciple home again; he attempted to appear calm as he went towards the disciple with some timidity.

"Are you all right?" Jiggywiggy asked him gently when he drew near. Finally, the disciple's eyes flickered upward to meet his.

"Y-yes, master." The disciple held up the jiggy with shaking hands. "Here. I fixed it."

"You're welcome," Kazooie called loudly.

". . . with some help," the disciple added.

"Go put it on the golden monolith," Jiggywiggy told him, causing the disciple's eyes to widen in surprise.

"M-me? But. . . ." He looked at the golden monolith helplessly. "I thought only you could--"

"We can break the rules just this once," declared Jiggywiggy. "Go on."

The disciple approached the golden monolith reverently, glancing back over his shoulder once at Jiggywiggy as if it be sure that it was still all right. Jiggywiggy felt a slight twinge of guilt as the disciple pushed the jiggy into place; it was the first time anyone besides Jiggywiggy himself had done so. However, the pleasure evidence in the disciple's eyes when he returned to Jiggywiggy made it worthwhile.

"That's one more towards your count," Jiggywiggy told Banjo and Kazooie. "You'll be able to open a new world soon."

"Not if we hang around here all day," griped the breegull. "Come on, Banjo, let's get out of here."

"Thank you," Jiggywiggy said abruptly as the pair reached the temple door. Kazooie turned to give him an incredulous look, but Banjo only nodded.

"No problem, Mr. Jiggywiggy."

"No problem?" cried Kazooie. "No problem? Are you kidding?" Jiggywiggy could still hear her ranting after Banjo had closed the door behind them. When they were gone, Jiggywiggy turned back to the disciple, feeling an altogether unfamiliar nervousness.

"You're really all right?" he asked the disciple, who nodded his golden head.

"Yes, Master Jiggywiggy, really. As long as. . . ." He hesitated, then took a few steps towards Jiggywiggy, stopping only an arm's length away. "As long as you really do want me back."

"Yes, of course I do." Jiggywiggy reached out to place his hands on the disciple's shoulders, gripping the coarse fabric of his outer robe. "I. . . I'm sorry. I was wrong."

The disciple started at Jiggywiggy's touch and stared up at him. "N-no, I shouldn't have--"

"Silence," Jiggywiggy declared, though with tenderness in his voice. "You were right; as important as the Crystal Jiggy is, occasionally. . . at times. . . other things are important too." He spoke almost humorously, in a tone that would have been accompanied by a smile from someone with a mouth. "Even the bear and that irritating bird."

The disciple gave him an incredulous look which slowly melted into happiness when he realized that Jiggywiggy meant it. "They. . . they did go through a lot to help me."

"Well, I made them do that," Jiggywiggy pointed out, not wanting Banjo and Kazooie's importance to be over emphasized. "I told them I wouldn't activate the Crystal Jiggy again until they brought you and the jiggy back."

"So it's still more important to you than they are?" That was another new tone of voice for the disciple, Jiggywiggy realized: almost teasing. And unlike the defiance of the previous day, it was a tone Jiggywiggy liked very much indeed.

"Yes, a bit." Jiggywiggy let the disciple go and moved to face the Crystal Jiggy. Looking down at it reminded him of the last night and morning's hours spent pacing past it, kneeling before it, praying to it and anyone beyond who might be listening. "Although. . . ."

"Yes, master?" the disciple prompted from somewhere behind him.

Jiggywiggy hesitated, knowing it would be blasphemy to answer. . . then said it anyway. "But I would have given it to Gruntilda herself to have you back again."

The disciple remained silent, but a moment later, Jiggywiggy felt two warm hands clasp one of his as the disciple moved to stand beside him.

"I'd. . . I'd stay with you even if you did," said the disciple in a tremulous voice. "I serve you. . . not the Crystal Jiggy."

Jiggywiggy's fingers curled over his disciple's. I don't deserve you, he thought, but that was far more than he could speak aloud.

"I've had the temple shut all morning," Jiggywiggy said, the brusqueness of his voice belied by his fingers still laced through the disciple's. "You should resume your duties as doorman."

"Yes, Master Jiggywiggy." The disciple's hands clutched ever-so-slightly over Jiggywiggy's, then he withdrew them. Jiggywiggy only looked up when the disciple was away from him, when Jiggywiggy heard the sound of the temple's door being opened again. He watched the disciple go outside to take his accustomed place beside the doorway, then Jiggywiggy went slowly back to his usual spot in the chancel.

It was likely futile for them to wait, poised, like that; no one had visited the temple in a long time except for the bear and bird. Yet it felt right somehow to Jiggywiggy: it was what they were supposed to do. And when the sun set that evening, the disciple would come inside and lock the doors. Then they would kneel by the Crystal Jiggy in meditation, together, whole again.

--

The End