"It's here already," Claudius whispered as John said a short prayer. Claudius's body was completely hairless, but he could still felt the air's electricity.

"What here?" asked Josef, looking back and forth between Claudius and John. All around them gujai were surfacing on the water and licking the air with their shrivelled tongues.

"Of course it's early. Of course. Damn it all," Claudius said. He smoothed his webbed hands over his gills, composing himself before he spoke again. "Moonsneeze," he said, holding Josef's gaze.

"Moonsneeze," repeated Josef. He didn't like that word. Claudius had already told him that if he wasn't ratified — whatever that meant — during the next Moonsneeze he would die gruesomely. This was now the next Moonsneeze.

Claudius watched as his goo-drinker went from curiosity to recognition and then finally to outright terror. He'd done everything he could for Josef. That wasn't to say they didn't have a chance — they certainly did, especially with Hilgooth and John's oar at their service.

"How long?" asked Josef, quaking in his rag cloth.

"Is uncertain, young lad," said John with feeling as he turned and sliced his oar into the sewer's bubbling body, pulling them along with its flow. "Moonsneeze is a strange time, what's already queer becomes queerer and what's already in the realm of the unspeakable becomes spoke."

John extended his arms and pulled his oar once again through the sewer's belly with vigour. "But I'll get you there in time. I don't mind skipping my sup if it means your brain stays intact. Hilgooth and I know this sewer system better than anyone. Say, what's your name, goo-drinker?"

Claudius waved his hands. "His brain is still processing a massive dream backlog. Please don't press him to speak—"

"Josef is me. Much thanks, John, man of sewer."

John nodded. "Happy to be of service to a goo-drinker."

Josef stared at the sewerman as his oar dipped in and out of the sewer muck. He was quite the character with the black cloak and twirls of grey hair cascading down his face. He features, against all the odds, seemed almost stately, save for the mid-line bulge along the nose.

Then Josef's stomach buckled. A short zap of pain caused his stomach to cinch up like a hastily closed sack. He fell to his knees.

"Josef! What is it?" Claudius said immediately, dropping down next to him.

"Stoomach. Hurt," Josef said while wheezing. "Sewer hurt belly."

"No fear," said John as he turned and gave the tin can in the corner a good kick. "This here is slewslog. The recipe hails from my grandma's least favourite aunt. I've made a few adjustments as needed and according to the weather."

Claudius moved between Josef and the tin can. "Is it safe? Is it healing?"

John smiled as he slithered his oar back into the sewer stream. He whispered, "No one ever remembers their first draught of slewslog." Then he cackled for good measure.

Josef, desperate for relief, crawled over, removed the lid, cupped his hands and began to slurp.

"How does it taste, Josef?" inquired Claudius hesitantly.

Josef turned to look at him, a shiny brown juice coating his maw. "Tastebud aren't working so good. Memories are all weird. Can't say bad, but good not definitely." Claudius sighed and scratched his head. At least his language skills were coming along.

"Fermented sewer juice," said John over his shoulder. "The only known cure for drinking this dingy muck is itself transmuted and spiced."

"As long as it helps him," replied Claudius as he watched Josef slurp a few more handfuls. "Take it easy, Josef. Remember what John said."

"It helping!" Josef said, giggling with relief.

"Just don't go overboard, metaphorically or literally." Claudius turned from Josef and walked over to his rucksack and removed Izzblum's Guide to Drinkers of Goo. He felt its worn cover. He looked at slurping Josef. It was time.

"Josef. Officially, your neocortex hasn't blossomed, but I think you're far enough along that we can start."

Josef's ears perked up (along with John's) and he stopped ingesting the slewslog, setting down the tin can's lid. He tilted his head, his black hair falling to the side as he awaited Claudius's next words.

"I think I mentioned Izzblum's Guide to you earlier," he said, patting the cover of the tome. "My contacts provided me with this copy. It is quite rare and rather handy."

John kept his attention focused on navigating the sewer line, but he was also not-so-secretly casting curious glances back at Claudius and the upheld tome.

Josef sat cross-legged, quietly congratulating himself. He raised his hand.

"Yes, Josef," said Claudius, pointing at Josef's raised hand.

"Why ratify?" Josef asked.

"Excellent question. Short answer: because if we don't you'll perish. Are you ready for the long answer?" Both Josef and John nodded intently. Claudius drew a deep breath. "Alrighty. Well let's dive in, I guess. The Lush Heap is a somewhat hodgepodge concoction of worlds that have each slipped into the Gentle Void over the septujinnys. Deconfigured, unconfigured, reconfigured — choose your favourite term, but when each slipped in there was a fresh conjoining of new and old."

John waved his hand in the air.

"Yes, John?" said Claudius.

"Same shit, new outhouse."

"Not quite, but thank you, John," said Claudius. "Rather, new shit, old shit, new outhouse, old outhouse, to speak in the local dialect."

John clucked and giggled quietly to himself while flicking out a deft sewer stroke. "This is just like in all the books."

Claudius sighed. "Please don't confuse the goo-drinker anymore than he already is."

"Sorry, sorry," said John. "It's just so exciting to hear it in real-time, you know? Keep talking, I'm listening."

Claudius cleared his throat and continued, but not before angling his back towards John. "With me so far, Josef? I hope I haven't said too much. I know you'll let me know if I have."

Josef gave another thumbs up while dipping in for another slurp of slewslog.

"To answer your question, then, ratification is the abrupt process every goo-drinker must go through to be accepted into the Lush Heap. It was made possible thanks to the Third Conjoining, when the world of Ohveen was sucked into the Gentle Void."

Claudius quickly opened the Izzblum's Guide to check on one or two details. "Yes, just as I thought. Ohveen was absolutely wrecked. Theirs was a highly-spirited world, vast amounts of religiosity flourished, and with good cause — this was their world's offering to the Gentle Void, what they brought to the Lush Heap."

Josef nodded vigorously, leaning forward. "One second…I just want to test something." Josef then waited. "Basket."

Claudius scratched his head as Josef cheered himself on. "Excuse me?"

"Just testing," said Josef smiling.

"Am I going to fast, Josef?"

"No, this is perfect," hollered John.

Claudius ignored him and took a second to appraise his goo-drinker. "We'll go a bit further but then that's it. I don't want any pre-combustion taking place."

Josef rubbed his stomach and smiled.

"What Ohveen brought to the Lush Heap was its spirited felds. That's right — F, E, L, D." Claudius dipped his nose back into the tome, flipped a page. "It took quite some time for the Lush Heap's current inhabitants to understand the exact nature of the shift the Third Conjoining brought about, but once they did there was much cause for celebration. Goo-drinkers could live, at least for longer."

Claudius looked up from his book. Josef's eyes were drooping. He was slowly collapsing back down to the floor.

"The slewslog's hitting him," John explained, "but I'm still listening. Please continue, fishman."

"Good," replied Claudius, "because I have to tell you that the Ba'ha Company has a near-seer in their ranks. That's how they knew where we were headed."

John nodded. "So what you're trying to tell me is there's a chance they know Hilgooth and I are abetting your flight?"

"You're quick," said Claudius, watching John for a reaction.

The sewerman tore a hard stroke into the sewer's surface. He was silent. "Could've warned me, fishman. Could've warned me. I have a family of five back in Gangdrup."

Claudius's initial reaction was to yell an insult, but he calmed himself by reflecting on Josef's earlier act of forgiveness and compassion. "I could've, yes. But I did so out of negligence, not malice. Also, I think it's fair to say that you knew you were biting into a thick patty of danger."

Before John could answer, they both turned to look at Josef who was rolling on his stomach and by all appearances trying to swim on the floor of the barge.

"How fermented are we talking about here," inquired Claudius.

"It's effects are fleeting but powerful. How much did he ingest?" John asked, scratching his scalp.

Claudius stepped over Josef and removed the lid to the tin can. He peered inside. "How much was in here originally?"

"Originally?" said John, pausing, "well it was full."

Claudius looked down at Josef and saw that his belly was bloated and pushing against his sack cloth. "The Void help him."

"Does he think he's back in his goo-sac?" John said, sneaking another glance at Josef.

"No. I think he's battling gujai," stated Claudius as he watched Josef hiss and scratch and flail. "I think he's winning."

Josef, indeed, was battling gujai. The slewslog was having a pointed effect on every mental faculty he possessed, including his self-image. For no valid reason at all, he felt immensely powerful and was actively rending apart gujai after gujai in his imagination. It was cathartic. External reality felt rather distant, but he could still hear his current state being discussed by Claudius and John.

His mind was also spinning with newly formed images of The Lush Heap, The Gentle Void, and Ohveen, while simultaneously he mimed deboning another imaginary gujai. He felt like he'd graduated from his puzzle of apples and oranges to one that now contained actual pieces that fit somewhat together. The combined image was inscrutable, but he could gaze at it.

"He'll be fine," said John, staring at Josef's flailing body. "I've seen far worse."

"I wonder if Moonsneeze is amplifying the slewslog's effects?" Claudius wondered, rubbing his chin.

John grumbled, "Oh gujai guts. Just what we needed." He stood on his tiptoes and pointed his lanky finger down the sewer line.

"Huh?" said Claudius. "More sewer water?" Claudius could see two pipes in the far distance. "What are we staring at?"

"Those are storm drains gushing out storm water. Ominous it is, a storm during a Moonsneeze."

Claudius knew John was right but he choose to remain silent so as not to frighten his goo-drinker. It occurred to him after a moment's reflection that the increased water may even help them scoot down the tunnel at a quicker pace.

"The sewer's turns and twists become a whole new beast with added water. Keep your eyes peeled," John said carefully as he dipped his oar back into water. "We'll be rolling along at a good clip quite soon." John then cleared his throat and broke out into a song:

And the sewer was known
For its hideous breath.
And the kingdom of slime
Calls for your rest.
My sons eternal, lay down
Lay down — your time
Of rest is coming now.

"That's rather morbid, John," said Claudius, hoping that Josef hadn't heard the sewerman's tune.

"A short little ditty to keep us warm and sane as we navigate this glugging mess," replied the sewerman with a wink.

Josef, in fact, had heard the song and had rather enjoyed it. He was currently rolling on his back while shredding another imaginary gujai with his feet. He breathed in a draught of air and flexed his minuscule muscles.

"You need rest, Josef," Claudius said, squatting down next to him. "I don't know if this is the most productive thing for you to be doing right now. Can you even hear me?"

Josef paused his rolling and gave a decisive nod, and then continued. He needed this. He so needed this. Despite Claudius's admonitions for him to stop, he needed to feel powerful. He was training. He was living. Imaginary or real, these gujai were helping him work through septujinnys of anxious goo-sac dreams and, more importantly, his recent near-drowning and near-transmigration to the afterlife of Hokin-Ha.

Claudius went to sigh but caught himself. No, they were doing it, he told himself. Not only had they passed his previous best record, but they'd now shattered it. Josef's current state notwithstanding, they were all competent and possessing of acute rational faculties. Time, now, was of the essence.

John motioned for Claudius to come closer. He shifted his eyes to the holdspace in the middle of Hilgooth's hull. "Once we get closer to the tunnel exit, I think it would be best if you and the goo-drinker climbed into the holdspace," whispered John.

"With the gujai?" Claudius whispered back, casting an anxious glance towards his goo-drinker. "Josef won't like that. But I'm grasping your idea. If there is a blockade, you don't think they'll check it?"

"Us sewerfolk are never taken seriously. Besides, half the machos and brainsnakes have used my services to visit Gangdrup for a night on the town. I'm a known quantity."

Claudius was incredulous. "I didn't even know that was a thing."

John shrugged, raised a brow. "Not one of the cool kids, perhaps?" Claudius briefly wondered if Malark had made use of John's services before, but then pushed the thought aside when he felt his temper rising. His old, dear, betraying ruffian of a friend. Damn him. He was probably outlining all of Claudius's faults to the Ba'ha magistrate at this very moment.

Claudius peeked at Josef who was now breathing heavily and still on Hilgooth's floor. His eyes were closed and Claudius would've almost wagered he was sleeping peacefully if not for the random tremors rattling through him every few seconds. He wore a soft smile, however, and so things couldn't be too bad.

"Hold tight! Here we go" cried out John.

They could hear the roar of the storm water grow louder as they approached. Claudius's gills fluttered.

Josef felt his back begin to rumble against Hilgooth's floor boards as the barge entered into the storm water. He practiced his breathing and let the slewslog's effects settle in his system. All he knew was that he had to reach The Crow Meadow.

This was his last thought before he suddenly went flying forward, his face smashing into the holdspace as Hilgooth crashed and spun against the storm water's waves.

Claudius began to shriek. John began to sing. And Josef began to accept this new world of suffering and brain-curdling sewer poems. His goo-sac was gone, but he was alive. He accepted this, breathed deeply, and gave himself over to the sewer's roar.