//------------------------------// // Chapter 26: Cracked Reflections // Story: Improbable Truth // by Charon the Chronicler //------------------------------// I was sitting quite comfortably in the coffee shop, watching people pass by the window. Others would probably dream of something else, but it reminded me of the few moments I had time for myself. I would sit alone in a coffee shop, drinking tea, in the scarlet light of the early morn or the inky darkness of late night, and watch the people pass by. Nothing there was real. But their stories, their stories could be. For someone. As I sipped my tea, the quiet clinking of the barista behind me, the waitress cleaning the tables with a squeaky rag, and the purring of the cat all brought me the feeling of banality I so craved. The tinkling of the bell above the door was the innocent herald of end times. The clopping of silver horseshoes reached my ears, but I didn’t turn around. I felt her come, and instead of fighting her one more night, I decided to let her in. “Is this what you want?” she asked me gently, pulling up a chair besides me. “I don’t quite understand. Most others would want the surreal. Power, love, or even general silliness.” “I never understood anybody’s need for any of that. My happiest moments were with Father, but he’s gone now. Bringing him back in a dream would be stupid; I would never be able to let him go. But I don’t want fame. I don’t want power. Being loved is counter-intuitive. The best I can hope for is peace. Stability.” I waved the waitress over. “Another cup of tea, please.” The waitress nodded, and Luna’s eyes darted between her and I for a few moments as the tea was brewed. Silence fell, and I chose to ignore her and continue staring outside. Through my peripheral vision, I saw the cat leap onto a table and stare at me with its golden, slit-pupil eyes. “So why did you let me in?” “I needed to bounce ideas off someone. Even if that someone was either a rampant portion of my psyche or a pony princess.” I stir my tea with a spoon. “Just to be sure what I should do.” “If you need aid, just let me he—” She was interrupted by howling winds outside as the blue skies became overcast. A small crack spread across the glass in front of me, fissuring my reflection in three. With a nervous swallow, she continued as the weather calmed down and the crack disappeared. “I’m here, for whatever you need me.” The waitress brought up the plate and teacup, with a modified handle to fit Luna’s hooves. She shot me a look, but took it as I paid the waitress. She took a sip and stared down into the cup. “There was no need to make the handles so big. Our teacups are similar to yours, courtesy of our minotaur manufacturers. Which means you have not seen any of our teacups. Considering your presence is stronger now than it was before, you must have gotten far closer to Canterlot. You have been wandering about.” A sip was my only response. A minor misdirection gave her this much false information, and I wasn’t inclined to correct her. I’d had enough tea times with Fluttershy to know what a teacup looked like, but I didn’t want to give Luna the idea that I knew ponies used similar teacups. “How does it taste?” I was genuinely curious. I couldn’t exactly emulate tastes or smells. Of course, Luna would see this as me changing the subject. “Like indecision,” she answered, surprisingly enough. “Alongside the bitterness of pessimism, the sour taste of self-hatred, and the all-encompassing spiciness of paranoia, grown from a sickly tree of the mind.” “Firmly rooted in the fertile soil of experience,” I answered gruffly. “Along with a tiny, clouded, pink taste of…sweetness? I can’t really tell, it’s drowned by regret and heavy melancholy.” She sighed and continued to sip her tea. The silence was palpable for the next few minutes. For all her prying, I can appreciate she’s a good person to be sharing a table with. When she’s quiet. “So,” Here we go again. “Who are they?” “Pardon?” Her question took me for a loop. “Who?” “Who are they?” Luna repeated, pointing towards the barista and the waitress. “Your parents? The slimmer one resembles a female, and she has a few of your more notable features. They could be your parents, right? It explains why I spotted them in your last dream. Reoccurring faces within one’s psyche is not uncommon for people important to oneself.” I turned around to see what she was talking about, and I saw them for the first time. The waitress had a natural beauty, from her lovely face to the sultry way she moved. Her pale, nearly white skin was marred only by moles dotting her body like a starry sky put in contrast. Most striking, however, was the silken, braided, midnight hair, juxtaposed only by a lock of moonlight-colored hair, and her blazing hazel eyes. Why…why does she have my features? The barista turned around, and I saw his chiseled face. He carried himself with discipline, and the camo bowtie gave the impression he was military. His buzzcut blond hair only confirmed that impression, but it was the scar just above his eyebrow that made me catch my breath. It was exactly the same as mine. But that’s…I got that scar when I slipped and fell in the snow. I remember…I…And my eyes settled on the cat that jumped onto my table. This one was the most obvious of them all. Its golden eyes had not gone unnoticed, but velvety wings and scales flown past me. It stretched, looking at me all the while, before hacking up a ball of smoke. The other two…they could be people that stayed with me mentally because they looked similar, right? I spotted them on TV or the internet and they stayed with me? But why the small dragon? I clutched my head as a spike of pain flitted through my consciousness. This is a dream. It doesn’t have to make sense. But I’m in control. It’s supposed to make sense! The glass cracked in front of me, and the skies darkened completely as black clouds emerged over the city, looming like the reaper’s dark cloak. Wild winds buffeted through the streets, picking up the people and flinging them into the skies, tearing my marionettes from their strings. Eerie quiet reigned as their stoic faces disappeared into open skies, the only evidence of wind the chaos occurring outside. “Lucid! Stay grounded!” Luna spotted what was going on and tried to keep me there. The cracks on the glass spread further, splitting my reflection in three once more, before spreading further. Windows down the street burst, throwing shards of glass up the street to tinkle like chimes against the cracking pane. And yet, the wind did not howl. “Lucid?” I laughed as the fissure spread, its crackling growing louder and louder as even buildings were picked up and flown into the abyss. “Is that what you call me? What a fitting name.” I smiled darkly and closed my wet eyes. “After all, I am aware of more than you know. More than I should know.” And with that final sentence, the window broke apart, shards of glass digging into my flesh as I was flung, screaming hysterically, into the open skies. I jerked up and opened my eyes once more. Awake. I’m definitely awake. I rubbed my wet eyes with a foreleg and sighed. But not awake enough. The dream is evidence enough that I’m falling. Something has to change. Steel Fang stirred around me, his massive head reaching up to meet mine. “Good morning, Steel.” I was greeted by a long, slobbery lick across my face that brightened up my mood. “Thanks, Steel Fang. I needed that.” I made my way to Adam, my hooves clopping on the unevenly-spaced hardwood floor. Looking at his face gave me the impression of tranquility. A gentle giant was sleeping, one who tried to see the best in everyone, including myself. But he was sleeping in my bed. I only hesitated for a second before poking him in the gut. Hard. He grumbled and turned about, but refused to wake up. One would think he’d get used to this schedule. I poked him again. No response. He was being particularly stubborn, so I hopped onto the bed and got real close to his face. “Adam.” I poked his nose and he shut his eyes tighter. “Wake. Up.” After a couple more pokes, he finally opened his eyes. We stared at each other for a full second before he smiles dazzlingly. I rolled my eyes and hopped off the bed before he could make any quips. “Come on. We’ve got to go fishing before continuing work on the basement. If all goes well, I can get some proper storage instead of hoping nothing purloins the food in the bags I have outside.” I made my way to the door and opened it for Steel Fang. “We can wash ourselves in turns, downstream.” Adam chuckled and swung his legs off the bed, stretching as the red glow of dawn peeked through the windows. He pulled a puff of cotton out of his hair and held it up for me to see. “What’s with the cotton in the walls? I pulled a little bit out of a gap last night.” “A waste of my time and money. I thought it would work as insulation, but I haven’t felt any chillier outside. Either because of my down underneath my coat, or because winter doesn’t reach this close to the Everfree. But I wasted my time, money, and brain cells with a stubborn lady before having made a properly informed decision.” Adam rubbed his head as he walked through the door. I closed it and muttered. “Now it’s nothing more than a monument to my stupidity and a potential hazard.” I went out to take baskets for Steel Fang and a pair of saddle bags I acquired for myself. “So winter doesn’t reach here? Let me guess, magic?” Adam starts to trek through the forest behind Steel and I after having grabbed his own basket. “Not much is needed to come to that conclusion. Magic is central here.” “Well, yeah. You told me that magic is that odd warmth I have now. It’s pretty much everywhere. But how does it work?” Adam ducked below a branch as I raised an eyebrow. “That’s probably the first question you’ve asked that nobody can really answer. Stop.” We laid down and held our breaths as a pride of young manticores passed through the underbrush a couple dozen meters ahead of us. Adam held his breath and I used my dull teal coat to blend into the shadowy parts of the greenery. Once they’d passed, we got up and continued our conversation. “Anyways, magic is all-encompassing. All organisms have it, but the more complicated a creature is, the more magic they hold. Inversely, more magic makes an organism more intelligent. Which is why you can find some rodents holding more magic than bigger fish. But such magic isn’t a force of concepts like ‘good’ or ‘evil’. It brings disadvantages just as it brings advantages.” Adam stopped to think a minute before rushing to catch up to us. We reached the running river and set our baskets down, before Steel and I jumped into the water and began to clean ourselves. “What do you mean by disadvantages?” Adam asked worriedly. “Aside from reliance on it, thus making them weak if magic were to be taken away? Let’s take what it’s done to pony society. Because of ‘cutie marks’, ponies immerse themselves in a sense of destiny. If there’s nobody to break the status quo, there’s nobody to advance society. But since there’s no paradigm shift unless somebody has the destiny relating to it, there’s few chances to advance.” I dunked my head underwater and brought myself back up, flicking the droplets of water of my back like a duck. “But doesn’t having a sense of destiny make everyone happy?” Adam frowned and started stripping his clothes. “Of course it does!” I scoff. “But that’s placing individual happiness before the betterment of a species as a whole. Even I’m not free from such things. Before, reading was an obsession. A way to cope with the shitty hand life dealt me. Now, whenever I read, I feel right. Remembering stories makes me feel right. But I’m more than my supposed ‘destiny’. Just because I love stories doesn’t mean I can’t make a kickass lemonade. Or fix a car. Or clean. Or do trigonometry. Therein lies the problem. Ponies do the things they’re good at because it feels good. Like how solving a difficult problem among humans would give us--erm, you a shot of chemicals that makes you feel good, but with far less diversity in application. Ponies only do the things related to their cutie marks, so less variety.” “I still think that ponies have got it more figured out than us,” Adam said as he waded into the water and began washing. “OooOooohuhuh! Chilly!” “That’s not the only thing,” I said as I got out and shook myself clean. “Emotions take a large part of this problem. I personally subscribe to logic, but emotions have their place. Unfortunately, emotions can affect and be affected by magic. Things like friendship and love are concrete forces in this universe. So, while the population won’t swell from mistakes and one-night stands, sometimes children born from such unions are beneficial. I don’t even think children can be born unless a couple loves each other.” “Still not seeing any negatives there, bud. Are you sure you don’t have a stake in the ‘accidents’ category?” I stared at Adam as he scrubbed himself clean. Steel Fang was finally done himself and climbed out of the river. He’s right. I may be a bit biased, as an accident myself. And look how I turned out. Steel Fang leaned his wet head on my back, and I chuckled before getting the brush out of my bags. “Hold still, Steel. I’ll get the knots and brambles out of your fur.” Thank you, Effie, for the grooming tips. “As for what you said, Adam…you may be right, but the relationships are still messed up in their own ways. I am loath to admit it, but intercourse is a healthy part of every good relationship. And whether it is the cycles or the magic, something’s messed up.” “Cycles? Like in dogs? Does that mean you’re attracted to ponies?” “No.” I scowled. “I’m attracted to humans. I was raised with human concepts of attractiveness, after all. During most of the year, there is no sexual attraction between ponies. Humans are a bit odd that way, but at least it’s consistent. For ponies it would be emotional attraction, probably aided by the magic of friendship or love.” I rolled my eyes, voice thick with sarcasm. “But it ends up confusing a lot of ponies. In short, some ponies are so deep in the closet, they’re unaware of the concept of the closet. And those that have, probably kept it secret for fear of being a ‘stranger’. Herd instincts are much stronger among ponies.” Adam got out and I looked away as I threw him a towel. “The ‘stranger’, huh? Like in that book?” Adam frowned as he got dressed. “The French one?” “Eeeeeh, not really, but close enough. You should have seen how they treated Zecora.” “Who?” Adam asked as he struggled to get his shirt on. “Never mind. Help me get some fish.” <><><> “Well, well, well.” The unicorn chuckled as he approached the stallion. “Who’d’ve thunk that me dear friend would up an run away? An after all we’ve done for ‘im, eh lads?” The unicorn’s brogue dialogue was only interrupted by puffs of his cigar as he made his way closer to Swift. As for Swift himself, he was trembling as he tried to find an exit from the warehouse he had tried to hide in, but he saw no gaps between the unicorn’s goons. Perk wished he weren’t so keen on finding strong ponies to protect him. He was just a thief, and although he considered himself to be the best, it wasn’t much without a boss to protect him. But he could trace his problems back to when an anonymous sponsor had paid him to steal something. Steal something so invaluable, he just had to try it. Unfortunately, he was caught by a guard who was deep in a noble’s pockets. And that set off a whole debacle with him trying to escape from the noble by jumping ship with a gang from the Manehatten underground. There were…disagreements. “Ya had ta listen to that featherhead’s honeyed words, didn’t ya? I’m lucky I still had an informant, else ya might ‘ave gotten away from lil’ ol’ me.” Cutlass smiled, yellowed teeth inches away from Swift’s trembling muzzle. “I do not understand why ye had to go to Miss White.” “I think that was the smartest choice he’s made in a long time,” a mare’s voice called out from the rafters. A small mare landed in front of Swift Hoof, her pure white wings contrasting her messy black mane. Stomping her hoof , six stallions landed at her sides, blocking Swift from Cutlass’ gang. “Black N. White.” Cutlass growled, his horn aglow. “Me eternal rival.” “Don’t flatter yourself,” she said. “You’re just an amusing two-bit gangster. Nothing more.” Cutlass, enraged, shot a bolt of energy towards Black, but it was easily deflected by a quick swipe of her wing. Swift was astonished, having never seen a pegasus do anything like that before. He furrowed his brows when he wondered why he couldn’t feel the warm sensation in his hooves whenever somepony used magic, but he wrote it off as something those in the criminal underworld needed to learn to not get caught. “What are ya scallywags waiting for?! We’ve got them surrounded! Trounce them!” What followed was the most one-sided battle Swift had ever seen. Despite there being dozens against six stallions, the six each held their own, dodging strikes and injuring, sometimes even killing, their opponents with swift kicks, bursts of magic, and even knives. In the meantime, Black turned her back on them to look at Swift directly. Well, look, as in point her head in his direction, because she was blindfolded with a crimson cloth. “I hope you have something to offer me. The only reason I accepted your pleas for help was because of this.” She held up a stack of papers with an all-too-familiar seal emblazoned upon them. Swift caught his breath and wondered how she had stolen the blackmail off the noble. He did nothing but carry it around with him, with guards around him at all hours. The battle behind her started dying down, the six relatively uninjured whereas the rest nursed wounds and struggled to stand. “You win this round, Black!” Cutlass roared as he pulled two unconscious goons onto his back and escaped out of the warehouse. “I win every round. But these bouts are entertaining.” Cutlass glared at her as he stood at the door, clenching his teeth before he and his goons scurried away. Black smirked, paying no more attention to her so-called ‘eternal rival’, walking around Swift Perk like a prowling tiger. He shivered as a cold smile grew on her lips, a single speck of blood from a particularly unfortunate pony trailing down her cheek. “I’ve read about you, Swift,” she purred, leaning in close to his ears. “Trying to steal the Elements of Harmony? That’s brave. And a testament to your skill, considering you were only a chamber away.” She stepped back, opened the file with a wing and started flicking through the pages with the other. “I’ve very rarely impressed, but you… A mare like myself can’t help but find you—” She slid close once more, nipping Swift’s ear as his blush grew bright. “Attractive.” She said it with an airy breath, but the way she moved and acted reminded too much of a venomous snake Swift had seen slithering about when he was younger, in Hollow Shades. It moved silently and stared directly at a little rat, head waving about like an exotic dancer… only to lunge forwards and swallow the rodent in a single gulp. “How did… you get those files?” Swift almost stuttered, but caught himself. “It wasn’t too much trouble.” White shrugged. “You know how effective sleight of hoof could be.” “But still…from a noble like him…” “I have need of ponies like you in my organization. After all--” she craned her neck upwards as two bulky pegasus ponies carried down a bruised and battered yellow unicorn “--a new position just opened up.” She turned about and began shouting in a stern voice. “All of you in the rafters, I did not bring you here to see a few of your brothers shove their hooves up some wannabee’s flank.” There was a lot of movement in the shadows above. “I brought you here to say goodbye. Goodbye to one we considered a brother, one I treated as my own family.” The quivering yellow unicorn was forced to the ground in front of her. “Please…” he pleaded, tears welling. “I-I…it was an accident!” Swift avoided his eyes, instead concentrating on the odd scar on his cutie mark. “Doubtful.” Black N. White scoffed. “Since you’ve joined, mere background ponies have become a minor nuisance. A minor distraction. An annoyance.” She leaned in real close to him and growled. “And I hate feeling annoyed. I like having business going exactly as planned. I enjoy schedules being precise and perfect. The joy of a job well done sparks trembles throughout my body like a million volts of happiness before settling warmly in my bones. My work is ecstasy. A little fly buzzing about must be smashed. And the one who let the bucking fly in is…let go.” Black huffed and stepped back. “I don’t care if he had a family. Whether it is an accident or on purpose is irrelevant. The fact I already gave him a chance is sign enough of my patience.” “But…but.” The unicorn’s neck craned so he could look at the scar on his hip. “That was for a small mistake. You can’t do this! It isn’t fair!” Black began to unfurl her blindfold. One of the fighters leaned towards Swift Perk and whispered. “Buddy, I suggest you look away.” He and the others turned around and clenched their eyes shut. “It won’t be pretty.” Swift quickly obliged just as Black N. White took off her blindfold. All he heard then was screaming. The blood-curling screams and thumps of his spasming broken limbs, the howls of a pony who had seen too much. Slowly his voice died and his limbs ceased to move, the dripping of liquid the only sound in the warehouse. “You can open your eyes now,” Black said. Swift and the others turned around to see what remained of the pony: A mouth frozen mid-scream, hollowed eye sockets of pure black leaking blood. The last tears of Swift’s predecessor. Swift’s knees trembled as he took in a cold breath. “As for you…” White, now blindfolded again, chirped as she trotted merrily towards him. “Welcome to the family.” She rubbed her neck on his, nuzzling into his mane. “Just remember…” Swift Perk felt a sting of pain on his flank and his heart dropped. “You’re mine.” Black hissed. Swift felt a roller coaster of emotions as she hugged him and nuzzled him even more. White stepped back with a blinding smile and fluttered her wings. “I’ll take care of the mess here. Why don’t you go to L’avoine D’or, so we can talk more over some early brunch? Don’t worry, I’ll pay.” Swift was stuck between terrorized and confused, with a hint of attraction, as much as he was reluctant to admit it. Half his reason for being was to live on the edge, and here was a mare who not only was on the edge…she was the edge. “But…why? What?” “Well.” White giggled as she placed a hoof on his withers. “I was always a fan of bad boys.” She stood by his side and swatted his rear with a wing. “Now go on, I’ll meet you there!” Swift cantered away, careful not to go too fast lest Black take it as an insult. One of the six stallion fighters walked besides him. “I can’t tell if you’re lucky or unlucky,” he whispered. “The boss clearly likes you, so she’ll be a bit more lenient when it comes to business. A bit.” Swift let out a tense breath. “But…if she even suspects you’re seeing other mares or being dishonest to her…Well--” he spared a glance at the stiff unicorn corpse “--you’ll wish you would only suffer his fate.” Swift’s heart felt like it finally climbed back up before tumbling down even farther. It seems he now had a devoted marefriend. Once he was gone, everything started to melt away. <><><> It is strange how complicated a con surrounding one pony could be. The corpses, the blood, the ponies--all turn a pitch black, interconnected by innumerable black lines. Melding together at the source, the being formerly known as Black N. White looks over the warehouse. Few would say it was the perfect con; there were far more efficient ways of doing it. But none less discrete. Traveler is satisfied with such a result. It had found the files on Swift Perk after investigating one of its marks from the Manehatten party. Paper trails are a bit harder to sift through than any type of energy-based network, but only in tediousness. How lucky that Traveler had found what it was looking for. By sifting its tendrils through many ponies’ very private affairs, it found notes on a bribed guard bringing in a thief. A thief who had found his way to the doors leading to the Elements of Harmony. A strange occurrence, considering the value of the Elements and the security surrounding them. What better way to destabilize the delicate timelines than to remove the McGuffin from the equation? And how better to do so than convince a local of their worth. Perhaps Traveler is reaching for straws, but it has investigated all players in this matter with the utmost scrutiny. The only discrepancy is Swift Perk, who went from stealing jewels from museums to attempting to take on the palace, with no sign of any information, partners, or tools. Traveler is indeed paranoid. But it now has a lead on ‘The Snake’ with dear Swift. It seems that Black N. White must prepare for her date soon. It is thinking red spectacles would match well with a white sunhat. It may as well spend a few minutes ‘preparing’. <><><> “I still don’t understand a lot of things,” Adam said as he carried baskets full of fish back to the cottage. “Welcome to life.” Windell chuckled, balancing his own basket on his back. “An existence consisting mostly of questions and only a few answers.” “No I’m just wondering—” Adam was shoved down to the ground, and Windell jumped into a bush. “Shht! Strangers, near the apple farm.” Jeez, why does he have to be so paranoid? According to him, many strange things that ponies don’t understand live in the Everfree…Adam took a moment to spare a look at the traveling group through the bushes. He stifled a gasp. As a bouncer, he’d seen many people walk through the doors. Over time, he began to recognize certain groups simply by the way they walked. Adam always thought it was his gut, but Windell scoffed and told him that his subconscious was picking up on cues better than he was. Whether it was instinct, gut, or some weird subconscious part of himself, he recognized them. The organized march, the confident strut they all had…they were definitely military. Okay, this time, paranoia saved us. “Windell,” Adam whispered. “They’re military; we should go.” Said troop was subtly reorganizing themselves. “I think they know we’re here!” he hissed. Windell took a few measured breaths before slinking back towards the cottage. Steel Fang followed, and Adam let out a sigh of relief as he picked up the rear. Slowly, they made their way back into the forest, careful not to make sudden movements. “How did you know?” Windell asked, not even turning around to face Adam. Adam couldn’t help but smirk. “I guess it was just my gut.” Windell snorted in an equine fashion, prompting Adam to chuckle. “Military types have got a certain walk to them. Like they belong wherever they are, even if they’re a bit too rigid for that.” “Hmmm. So a disciplinary gait? Noted.” The rest of the walk passed in silence, only stopping once the two of them began cleaning the fish. “So why are you working on a basement for your hut?” Adam winced as he nearly cut himself gutting a fish. “Seems like a whole lot of work for just food storage.” “It’s a good place for you to hide if there are people coming. I can store more books as well, when I can buy enough. I’d rather not line the walls with books again; it makes taking one to reread a hassle.” Windell leaned back and avoided eye contact for a split second before refocusing on Adam. Adam continued staring, his thoughts easy to read from his expression. There’s more to this. There’s the main reason you haven’t told me about. “As usual, your social intelligence is astounding.” Windell sighed. “It’s so you can build muscle to better protect yourself.” A good lie, and maybe another explanation, but both Adam and Steel Fang knew better. The dire wolf was so disbelieving that he huffed dog breath in Windell’s direction. A smell that would send Adam reeling or Steel Fang rolling wafted over the stoic pony’s face. The eye contact between the Windell and his two friends was broken when he looked away. “Fine. It’s in case of another panic attack. It’s tight-spaced, cool, and dark--a perfect place for me to get a hold of myself.” Adam couldn’t help but feel his expression become downcast at Windell’s vulnerability. He moved over to him and enclosed him in a hug. Windell tensed up despite the warmth of Adam’s gesture. “Adam,” Windell said tersely. “Shush, shush, shusssshhhh…” Adam hummed. “You need this.” Windell closed his eyes and relaxed somewhat. The hug lasted a moment more before the two separated. “That was nice…despite your fish gunk hands.” Adam looked at his hands, only just realizing he had left a trail of fish slime and entrails all over Windell’s back. Luckily, Steel was there to lick it all up, matting his fur up in a small cowlick where neck met back. “Haha…oops.” The two finished up their breakfast and continued working on the basement, digging up the ground underneath the floorboards and bringing it behind the ‘rock hut’ a few meters from the cottage. It was only a few hours later when Steel Fang noticed ponies coming. He nudged Windell and Adam with his snout and faced the direction they were coming from. Adam was quickly ushered into the as-of-yet unfinished basement, floorboards placed overhead. A few minutes later, he heard a commotion. It sounds a lot like the squawking of birds and cussing in Quebecois, Adam thought, before it was followed by a muted conversation. Soon enough, the hubbub moved on, and a single set of hoof clops moved towards Adam’s hiding spot. Light flowed down into the hole as Windell lifted the floorboards. “Soooo, I got another job?” Adam’s eyebrows raised. “Really? In what?” “Apparently, investigating evidence for what I think may be myself?”