//------------------------------// // In the Labyrinth of Li'xsh // Story: The Daring Adventure of Dentist and Bookworm // by RB_ //------------------------------// “You!” Minuette cried. “H-how did you find this place?” Moondancer stammered. “Diamond Dogs not so stupid as ponies think!” Scrapper said, grinning—not a pleasant sight. “Diamond Dogs know something was wrong since train station. Diamond Dogs follow you here!” “How did you follow us without us noticing?” “Diamond Dogs swim!” “Great,” Minuette said. “They’re Sea Dogs.” “Diamond Dogs grateful!” Scrapper said, stepping towards them. “Dogs will get big reward for finding Labyrinth! Maybe even get promotion!” “S-stay back!” Moondancer said, brandishing her horn. “I-I know thirty-eight different defensive spells, so—” Scrapper just laughed, and continued his advance. “Unicorns always bragging,” he said. “Unicorns know spells! Well, Scrapper been doing this for a long time, and spells never save unicorns from Scrapper before!” He took another step forwards. “I-I’m serious!” Moondancer said. “So is Scrapper!” He took another step towards them. His claws clicked against the stone. “Minuette, cover your eyes!” Moondancer clamped her own eyes shut, then let loose the spell she’d been building up. Her horn flashed—and the inside of the dim cavern turned as bright as the sun. “Argh!” Scrapped squealed, covering his eyes. The other two dogs hadn’t faired much better, howling as the light blinded them. The flash only lasted for a second, but it was enough. “Moondancer!” Minuette gasped. “That was awesome!” “No time!” Moondancer shouted back. “Run!” Running might not have been Moondancer’s strong suit, but she sure was doing a whole lot of it anyway. Scrapper’s yips and howls reverberated through the rocky tunnels behind them. The sounds of the dogs’ paws thudding on the stone floor echoed along the tunnel, and they were gaining. “Moondancer!” Minuette shrieked. “Door!” Moondancer looked ahead. As Minuette had said, they were coming up to a second stone door, at the end of the corridor—and this one was open. “Got it!” Moondancer shouted back. The glow around her horn intensified. The two of them skidded through the doorway—and with a shout, Moondancer slammed it shut behind them. A metal bar hung on the back of it; she slammed that into place too, locking the door behind them. They were both quiet for a few moments, the only sounds echoing off the walls of the stone chamber their own gasps for breath. Something thudded against the door. The faint sounds of barking and claws scraping against stone could be heard from outside. But, thankfully... “I think that’s going to hold them,” Minuette said, leaning up against a wall for support. She raised one hoof weakly into the air in celebration. “We made it!” Moondancer slid down to the floor. The cold, hard stone bit into her skin. “Oh, Celestia,” she gasped out. “Oh, Celestia. Oh, Celestia.” As she caught her breath, she looked at their surroundings. Her own horn was the only source of illumination, but there wasn’t much in the chamber to illuminate. A round raised basin sat in the center of the room, filled with still water. Intricately carved geometric patterns adorned the walls. On the far side of the room, three doorways continued on into the darkness. Apart from that, the room was completely empty—conspicuously so. “I can’t believe we let them follow us,” she groaned, once it no longer hurt to do so. “We made the most cliche mistake ever.” “I didn’t think anything that big could be so sneaky,” Minuette replied. “You know how you promised this trip wasn’t going to be as bad as I thought it was?” “Yeah?” “Well, you were wrong,” Moondancer said. “This is way, way worse than I thought it was going to be.” “In my defence, if I’d known what the trip was actually for, I might not have been so insistent about going.” Minuette stepped away from the wall and walked to the basin at the room’s center, staring at the three doorways as she went. “So, uh... D’you have a map of this place, or...?” “Oh, yeah, I’ve totally got a map of this ancient labyrinth that’s been lost for millennia,” Moondancer said. “It’s a piece of paper with one big dot on it labelled, ‘You’re Screwed’.” “What about the carvings on the walls? Can you translate them?” “They’re just for decoration, I’m pretty sure,” Moondancer said. “If that’s Xiu’biehian, then it’s no dialect I’ve ever seen.” “Okay,” Minuette said. “I guess we just... pick a door, then.” “Are you crazy?” Moondancer said. “You seriously want to head further into the maze?” “What, you’d rather try your luck with the Diamond Dogs?” As if to punctuate the statement, something slammed into the door, rattling the metal bar holding it shut and sending dust trickling down from the ceiling. “...Okay, fair point.” Moondancer picked herself up off the floor and dusted herself off, then joined Minuette, who had made her way to the far side of the room. “You’re supposed to stick to the right wall in mazes, right?” Minuette said, staring at the three doorways. “Or is it the left? I can never remember.” “I think either works.” “Right it is, then.” The hallway beyond the door was unremarkable, save for its length and the almost snake-like way it twisted and curved. It quickly became apparent to Moondancer that there was little hope of mapping the Labyrinth out mentally—evidently, it had been designed with thwarting that in mind. Eventually, however, they came to the end of it. Together, they emerged... ...into a very familiar-looking room, with a very familiar-looking basin at its center. “Wait,” Minuette said. “We’re back here?” “I... guess the path must have looped us around,” Moondancer said. “Let’s see...” She turned around so that she was facing the doorways. “We went in through the right door,” she said. “And we came out through the left door, and we never came across any other paths. Which means that those two are false paths, which also means that the middle door has to be progress. Right?” “Let’s hope,” Minuette said, heading for the middle doorway. It lead to a similar hallway to the previous door, and so they set out on their way. As they walked, Moondancer decided to ask about something that had been weighing on her mind. They were trapped, possibly forever; what harm could it do? “Back at the train station,” she began. “That whole... thing you did.” “What thing?” Minuette asked. “The Posh Canterlot Noble thing,” Moondancer said. “That was amazing—it was like you were a completely different pony. How’d you do that?” “Oh, heh,” Minuette rubbed at the back of her neck. “That thing.” She sighed. “I guess don’t talk about my family much, but my dad’s half of the family are from the noble class, so I kind of... had a lot of practice, growing up.” “Seriously?” “Yeaaaaaah...” Minuette said. “They’re all super boring. And none of them eat doughnuts. I don’t see them very often.” They rounded a bend. Moondancer could see the exit up ahead. “Being a noble has to have its perks, though, right?” she said. “I mean, we live in Canterlot, half the place is royalty-only.” “You’d think,” was Minuette’s only reply. The end of the hallway quickly approached; peering through it, Moondancer felt her heart drop. “Again?” Minuette remarked, as they stepped back into the same room they’d just left. “How?” “We came out the left door again,” Moondancer said. “There’s gotta be some kind of trick to this—maybe if we double back the way we came, we’ll be able to see where the paths converge?” “It’s worth a shot.” They headed back through the left door. “What does Li’xsh mean, anyway?” Minuette asked, as they made their way down the corridor. “It’s an amalgam of the Xiu’biehian words for ‘infinite’ and ‘confusion’.” “Oh.” Minuette said. “Good.” Eventually, they reached the end of the hallway—and once again found themselves back in the basin room. “This is impossible,” Moondancer said. “I didn’t see anything in the hallway, did you?” “Nope,” Minuette replied. “Solid stone, the whole way through.” “Ugh,” Moondancer groaned. “Okay. Let’s go right again. Maybe something changed.” Off they went... and once again, they ended up back in the room. “Alright,” Moondancer said, strain creeping into her voice. “Left!” The same result. “Middle!” “Nothing changed. “Middle again!” Sixth verse, same as the first. No matter what they tried, the basin room was waiting for them. “Argh, I can’t take this anymore!” Moondancer shouted, after the ninth attempt. “I’d rather the—” Moondancer paused. “Wait... do you... hear anything?” Minuette cocked an ear. “Uh... no, seems pretty quiet to me.” “Exactly,” Moondancer replied. “So what happened to the Diamond Dogs?” Minuette listened again. Sure enough, the sounds of scraping paws and bodies being thrown against the door had ceased. “Maybe they left?” she suggested, hope creeping into her voice. “Or maybe they’re right outside, waiting to see if we open the door,” Moondancer replied. “Or that,” Minuette said. “Still, something’s off. Should we...? “Absolutely.” “Alright, the honours are all yours.” Horn at the ready, Moondancer slowly slid the iron bolt back. When the door didn’t immediately fly open in her face, she cracked it open herself—and then, after peering through, pulled it open fully. The corridor beyond the door was empty. The two mares glanced at each other. They glanced at the corridor. Within half a second of each other, both mares were running at full speed towards the Labyrinth’s entrance. However, as the end of the tunnel came into sight... “Oh, come on!” Moondancer screamed in frustration, as they emerged into the same room, with the same basin, and the same three doorways staring mockingly at them from across the room. “Did we just...” Minuette spun around and looked back the way they’d come. “Did we just come in through the same door we left through!?” “Argh!” Moondancer stomped up to the basin, her teeth grit. “I am so sick of this stupid! Room!” She dunked her head into the water. Distorted screaming and a whole lot of bubbles followed. “I think,” Minuette said, after a moment, “it’s time to take a break.” “So what’s Daring Do like, anyway?” Minuette asked. They’d both sat down on the floor of the room, Minuette against the wall and Moondancer against the basin. “Why do you want to know?” Moondancer asked. “Well, I was kinda looking forward to meeting her,” Minuette said. “I mean, you and Twilight were always gushing about how cool she was when we were kids. I wanted to know if she lives up to the hype.” Moondancer chuckled. “Yeah, I guess we did kinda talk your ears off as kids, huh.” “Hey, I wasn’t complaining,” Minuette said. “It was always nice to see you two actually socializing for once.” “Well, she’s...” Moondancer twirled a hoof, trying to think of the right words. “She’s... larger than life, I guess.” “How so?” “Well... in the books, she’s this unstoppable force,” she said. “Even when things get really dire, she manages to get out alive, and save the day in the process. And in real life... she’s still like that! And it’s kind of surreal to think about, when you’re sitting across from her, drinking tea, and talking about the ancient customs of the lost Bushwoolie tribes.” “So she’s exactly the same as she is in the books?” “Well... maybe a little bit more nuanced,” Moondancer said. “The books don’t do a great job showing off how much effort she puts into planning her expeditions—not exactly page-turning material for the general public, I guess. But it’s like talking to a real-life fictional character. She shows up, and suddenly everything gets more interesting.” “Sounds kinda like talking to Twilight,” Minuette said. Moondancer snorted. “Yeah, pretty much. Crazy times we live in, huh?” “Equestria’s nearly been taken over, what, like eleven times in the last nine years?” “We’ve lived through two different invasions of Canterlot. By two different armies!” “And we got to be there for the first official coronation in over a thousand years,” Minuette said. “What about Cadance?” “Eh, she doesn’t count.” “She absolutely counts.” “Whatever,” Minuette said, waving the objection away. “Point is—life in general kinda feels like a fantasy these days, doesn’t it?” “Yeah, I guess it does,” Moondancer said. They were both silent for a few moments. “When I was a kid, I always kinda thought, y’know,” Moondancer said, idly scratching a pattern in the dust on the floor of the cave. “That that would be me one day, I guess.” “That you would be what?” “Like the protagonist from one of my books,” Moondancer said. “Y’know. Like Daring. Or Twilight. Larger than life.” She chuckled. “I guess things just don’t really work that way in real life, huh?” she said. “Not to ponies like us, anyway.” “Well... I don’t know about that.” Moondancer blinked. “Huh?” “I don’t think there are special and normal people,” Minuette said. “I think there’s just... people.” This was a very different Minuette than the one Moondancer was used to. Quieter. It made her uneasy. “How can you say that, with everything that’s happened?” Moondancer asked. “We personally know a several-times saviour of Equestria and the world unicorn-turned alicorn princess. There’s a group of ponies in Ponyville who’ve done more for national security than the entire guard combined. And they’re personal friends with actual, literal gods! “And then there’s... us. A dentist and a bookworm.” She held up a hoof, before Minuette could object. “And there’s nothing wrong with that! But we’re just not in the same league as ponies like Daring, or Twilight. We aren’t cut from the same mold.” “Well... see, that’s the thing,” Minuette said. She stood up, trotted over, and slumped against the basin next to Moondancer. They were so close, Moondancer could feel her warmth, and it made her blush a little. Just a little. “If we’re just normal, ordinary ponies, then how did we make it this far?” Minuette continued. “How did we make it out of that train station? How did you solve the riddle of the Spire?” “Yeah, but we didn’t make it very far after that. Still trapped, remember?” “Yeah, but we still made it further than any pony has in centuries!” Minuette said. “That’s gotta count for something, right?” “But we’re only here because of Daring,” Moondancer said. “If she—or heck, if Twilight, even—were here instead of us, the crown would already be on its way back to Mt. Aris by now.” “Yeah, but we’re here,” Minuette said. “And I don’t see Twilight or Daring around anywhere, do you? “Look, the way I see it, if you spend your whole life telling yourself that you can’t do things, then you’re never going to be able to do them,” Minuette said. “And not being able to do those things is going to make you believe you can’t even harder. And that’s just going to make you miserable forever. “Ponies like Twilight, and Daring—I don’t think they wake up in the mornings and go, ‘I think I’m going to save the world today.’ They get up, brush their teeth, and stub their hooves on their kitchen tables, just like the rest of us.” “I don’t think I’ve ever stubbed my hoof on a kitchen table,” Moondancer said. “Can you even stub a hoof?” “Not important,” Minuette said. “The only difference is that ponies like Daring and Twilight stepped up and did the things they needed to do, when they needed to do them. Because if they didn’t, they wouldn’t be happy. And that’s a choice.” She tilted her head up to the ceiling. “We’re all just trying to be happy, Moondancer. No special people and ordinary people. Just... people. Trying to be happy. Together.” She chuckled. “At least, that’s what I think. I’m a dentist, not a philosopher.” Moondancer stared at her friend. “You’re amazing, you know that?” she said. “I do know that,” Minuette said. “But thanks for noticing.” Moondancer snorted. “No, really, I mean it. You’re so... you’re so you. I can’t do that kind of thing.” “Well, that’s why I’m here!” Minuette said, grinning. “To give you an occasional kick in the patooie. What else are friends for?” Moondancer chuckled. “You’re starting to sound like Twilight again.” “Yeah, well, there are worse ponies to sound like.” They both laughed a bit at that, then fell silent for a while. Moondancer was glad for it—she needed time to get her thoughts together after all that had just happened. Her glasses had gone askew again, she suddenly realized, at some point in all the confusion. She raised a hoof to straighten them—but then something caught her eye. Something she had overlooked. Moondancer looked at her hoof, and the dust that had clung to her coat.. She looked at the dust on the floor. She looked at the floor below the three doors. It was pristine in its uncleanliness. She frowned. “But if that’s the case,” she murmured, “then how would anyone be able to...” Her eyes widened. “So that’s what it’s for...” Minuette looked up. “Huh?” “Hang on,” Moondancer said, getting to her hooves. “I’ve got an idea.” She lit her horn. A bubble of telekinetic force took hold of some of the water contained within the basin, drawing it up and floating it into the air. “What are you...” “If I’m right,” she said, trotting over to one of the corridor entrances. “Then...” She brought the water over to the leftmost door, then let some of it pour out into the corridor. Curiously, instead of pooling where it landed, it flowed back towards her. As Minuette watched, she repeated the procedure for the other two doors. The results were much the same for the one in the middle, but the one on the right... “Yes!” Moondancer exclaimed. “I was right!” The water had not pooled this time, nor had it flowed back into the room. This time, the water flowed away—down the corridor. “C’mon,” Moondancer said. “Let’s follow it!” Utterly confused, Minuette nonetheless chased after her friend as she pursued the thin stream of water down the hallway. Eventually, they came out into the same room once again—but once the water reached the edge of the doorway, it stopped flowing and began to puddle. “What are you doing?” Minuette asked. “Hang on,” Moondancer said, heading to the basin to replenish her water supply. “I need to increase my sample size.” She repeated the procedure she had done previously, pouring water into each of the doorways. This time, it was the middle that flowed downwards. “Yes!” Moondancer cheered. “Hypothesis proven! No review board would ever accept a sample size of two, but in this case, I think we can make an exception!” “I don’t understand,” Minuette said. “What does all this stuff with the water mean?” “It means,” Minuette said, “that the Labyrinth of Lix’sh isn’t just a maze, and it isn’t just this room—it’s a vertical structure made out of many of this room. The corridors are built at very slight inclines, so slight you wouldn’t notice it, that gradually lead up or down to the next identical floor. We haven’t been going in circles, Minnie! We’ve been going up and down!” Minuette’s eyes widened. “Then—” “The crown has to be on the bottom layer for it to make any sense,” Moondancer said. “We can use the water to check which corridors lead downwards! We’re going to make it out of here, Minnie! We’re going to—” Minuette’s hug caught her in the middle of her declaration. It was not an unwelcome interruption. Moondancer stopped counting the floors when they passed forty. “How did they even build all of this?” Minuette said, around floor seventy-eight. Moondancer shrugged. “Magic, I guess.” Eventually, however, they emerged from one of the countless corridors and found themselves, at long last, in a room that wasn’t identical to the one they had just left. In quite a big way. “Whoa,” Moondancer said, as she stepped into a chamber so large she could have fit the entirety of her tower library into it with room to spare. The walls here were more ornately carved than the ones in the Labyrinth had been, and the high ceiling was supported by thick columns too big to wrap one’s arms around. Plinths lined the walls, emitting a soft light of their own, as if by magic—which was a relief for Moondancer, as it meant she could finally release her light spell. And, sitting in the middle of the room, on a marble throne, sat— “The Crown of Cthonia!” Minuette gasped. “We made it, Moon!” “It really exists,” Moondancer breathed. She scrambled forwards, up the steps to the dias. The crown was every bit as strange and intricately beutiful as the illustration had made it out to be—if not even more so. Moondancer made a complete circle of the thing, simply gawking at it. “So, uh...” Minuette said. “Do we just grab this thing, or...?” “It might be booby-trapped,” Moondancer replied. “Should we try and swap it out for a bag of sand or something?” “We don’t have a bag,” Moondancer said. “Or sand, for that matter.” She gave the dias itself a closer look. “It doesn’t look booby-trapped. Maybe they figured that no one would ever get through the maze, so they didn’t need to bother?” “Only one way to find out,” Minuette said. Moondancer sighed. “Alright,” she said. “On three. One...” She lit her horn. “Two... “Three!” She swiped the crown off its pedestal. Her muscles tensed, waiting for something to happen... ...but nothing did. “Huh,” she said, relaxing. “I guess we were worried over nothing.” Minuette shrugged. Together, they stepped off the dias, crown in tow, and made their way back down the steps. “Well,” Moondancer said. “That honestly went a lot better than I—” A sharp, metallic ringing sounded behind them. They turned around—just in time to watch as a massive iron blade whipped out of the floor and cleaved through the air where they’d been standing just moments before. “...Huh,” Minuette said, looking very pale all of a sudden. “I... guess it was just a little... rusty.” “Y-yeah,” Moondancer said. Her heart, she noticed, was beating twice as fast as it normally did. “G-good thing we...” Minuette nodded. “I think we should probably leave now.” “You read my mind.” The passage seemed like it went on forever—Moondancer’s knees, already tired from all the walking they’d done back in the Labyrinth, certainly thought so—but eventually they came to the end: a smooth, flat block of stone, set on hinges. Moondancer pushed the thing open slowly, but whatever hinge mechanism the thing had been built with must have been an engineering marvel, because the slab slid open in complete silence. Beyond the door was a hallway—a very familliar looking hallway—and it wasn’t silent at all. “Ponies have to leave eventually,” came Scrapper’s voice, echoing up the hallway. Moondancer flinched—but when there was no immediate barking, snarling, or howling in their direction, she became curious. Peeking around the edge of the door, she spotted the three dogs congregated around the entrance to the Labyrinth. And, more importantly, attentively facing towards it. "Why dogs not just dig through door?" The one on the left said. "Why dogs bother?" Scrapper said. "Door might be important to Boss Pony! Ponies open door soon anyway." “Maybe ponies find another way out?” The dog on the right suggested. Scrapper smacked him over the ears. “Dog stupid! That exactly what ponies want dogs to think! Ponies probably sitting behind door, wondering if dogs gone yet. Ponies leave any minute now.” Moondancer looked at Minuette. They both stifled a giggle, then, as quietly as they could, made their way back up the hallway. The journey back to the Spire went smoothly, and soon enough they were back on their boat. Moondancer turned the crown around in her magic, examining the thing. It really was beautiful. And it was strange; in her magical grasp, the thing felt... alive, somehow. Even in this inert state, she could feel the power inside it, struggling to break free. It wanted to be free. She could set it free, if only she— “Yeah, no.” Moondancer stuffed the thing into her bag. “Not in the mood for that today.” She turned to Minuette, who had just finished unmooring them from the Spire. “We ready to go?” “Aye, cap’n!” She picked up the oars and began rowing. “So,” Minuette said. “We navigated the Labyrinth of Li’xsh, secured the Crown of Cthonia, and generally saved the day all around. Not bad for a dentist and a bookworm, huh?” “I guess not,” Moondancer said. She cast a glance towards Mt Aris, off in the distance. “What do we do now?” “...D’you think they have any doughnut shops around here?” “Well, it’s not a doughnut,” Minuette said, swallowing the second bite of her malasada. “But I guess it’ll do.” They’d found a little food stand, set up on one of the beaches, with some chairs and tables laid out. They were currently sitting at one of them, the ocean sunset forming a nice backdrop to their meal. “I kinda like it,” Moondancer said. “It’s different.” “Yeah, I guess—” Something seemed to catch Minuette’s eye; turning, Moondancer spotted it—or, rather, her—too. Daring Do had also seen them, it seemed, because she was walking towards them at a brisk pace. Her khaki shirt was torn and ragged, and her pith hat—normally so ubiquitous—was missing entirely. A bandage had been wrapped around her right foreleg. Simply put: she looked like Tartarus. “Moondancer! Oh there you are, I am so sorry, Caballeron derailed me—literally derailed my train! I mean, who does tha—” She blinked. “Who’s this?” “A friend of mine.” Minuette waved. “Has she, uh...” Daring gestured in Minuette’s direction. “Y’know... read my...?” “Nope.” “Oh, thank Celestia. I don’t know if I could deal with another Rainbow Dash.” Daring plunked down into one of the seats at their table. “Alright, so,” she said. “I think I was able to delay Caballeron, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned about that stallion, it’s that he’s persistent, so we may not have much time. So, I say we head for the Seafall Spire immediately. I’ve had a boat prepared ahead of time, and—why are you looking at me like that?” In response, Moondancer slid a cloth bag across the table. Raising an eyebrow, Daring picked up the bag and peered inside. Her jaw dropped. “Is this...?” “The Crown of Cthonia,” Moondancer said. “Retrieved from the bottom of the Labyrinth of Li’xsh. You’re welcome.” “You got this all by yourself?” “We did,” Moondancer corrected her. “All by ourselves.” “...In one afternoon.” “Well, you did say time was of the essence.” Daring laughed. “This is incredible, Moondancer! And, er, other pony.” “Minuette.” “Well, great job, both of you.” Daring relaxed into her chair. “Aaaah. Y’know, I’m really glad you pulled this off, because I’m exhausted. Y’know, my editor keeps telling me I’m getting too old to do these kinds of things. Maybe she’s more right than I thought she was.” She peered at the two of them. “You guys want to turn this into a regular thing? It’s starting to look like I could use the help.” “I think I’m happy with my books for the moment, sorry,” Moondancer said. “And I’ve got a practice to run,” Minuette said. “Cavities don’t fill themselves.” “But...” Moondancer hummed. “Maybe we could do this again some time? Not, like, soon, but if the situation ever demands it...” Daring chuckled. “I always knew you had a bit of the adventuring spirit in you, Moondancer.” “Welp,” she said, grabbing the bag and standing up. “I’d love to stay and hear the full story—and we’re going to do that, at some point—but I’ve gotta get this thing somewhere no one’s ever going to find it.” She chuckled. “And then, I’m going to take a really long shower, and a really long nap. Catch you later, Moondancer.” Moondancer watched her as she left, taking the bag—and the crown—with her, until she disappeared from view. “Y’know, I think you might be right,” she said. “Maybe there are just... people.” Minuette lifted a malasada up in a mock toast. “To people.” Monndancer grinned, and raised her own. “To people.” They clinked their pastries together. “So, what does Daring do with all these ancient, evil artefacts?” Minuette asked. “Just store them in a warehouse somewhere?” “No idea.” Deep within the bowels of Canterlot, there’s a shop that not many ponies know about. Ostensibly, it’s an antiques shop, but they haven’t made a real sale in years. This is reflected in the furniture, which, despite its owner’s best efforts, is perennially covered in dust. But that’s okay, because it’s only ostensibly an antiques shop. The bell over the door tinkled as Daring Do stepped inside, though currently she was dressed as A.K. Yearling, hat and glasses and all. The shop’s owner, slumped behind the counter, laid down the novel she’d been reading and straightened up. “Miss Yearling,” she said. “This is a pleasant surprise. Business or pleasure?” “Business today, sorry.” She laid a familiar-looking cloth bag on the countertop. “Be careful with this one. It’s bad news.” The shopkeep peered inside the bag. “Looks Hippocampian,” she said. “Is this the Crown of Cthonia?” “It may or may not be,” Daring said. “And it’s a bit frisky, so try and suppress any urges you might get to try it on.” “Not to worry, Miss Yearling; I’m a professional.” The shopkeep took the bag and dropped it behind the counter. “It’ll be in the vault before sunrise, and I’ll have a replica ready for you by Monday. Two hundred bits, please.” Daring dropped a second bag on the countertop. This one jingled. “Thanks,” she said. “That’s a weight off my mind. You’re a real lifesaver, you know that, Twinkleshine?” Twinkleshine grinned. “Just doing my job.”