Note’s family lived on a idyllic tree-lined street. Cheerilee looked around appreciatively. It seemed like a good place for a young pony to grow up. She knocked on the door.
“Can I help you?” asked the mare who answered the door.
“Hi, I’m Note’s teacher,” said Cheerilee. “He left his backpack at school today.”
“Oh, thank you,” said the pony. Turning her head towards the rest of the house, she said, “Son! Come to the front door for a moment.”
Note appeared, looking confused. When he saw Cheerilee with his bookbag, something like fear flashed across his face.
“I found this and thought you might want it,” explained the teacher. She smiled.
Note took the bag. “Thanks.”
Cheerilee had no idea why her presence was antagonizing the young pony, but decided to leave without pushing the issue. She said goodbye and stepped away from the front door. Curiosity made her pause for a moment on the corner. If Note was having issues, that was his business. Cheerilee wanted to help him, but wasn’t sure how far she could push without violating his privacy.
After wrestling with the choice for a while, the schoolteacher decided that if she could break into innocent ponies’ homes to recreate murder scenes in their kitchen, taking a closer look at one of her students was a relatively minor thing. She turned back and approached the house again.
Near the fence that separated property lines, there was a thick maple that rose along side the house. Cheerilee looked around to make sure she wasn’t being observed and shot up the tree, taking refuge from the evening sun in the mass of leaves.
When his mother had called him, Cheerilee heard where Note’s steps had originated. His bedroom was conviently placed to give her a good view.
Hoping that her green eyes would offer some camouflage among the leaves, Cheerilee moved until she could see Note. The pony was frantically tearing through the contents of his bookbag. There was a file of papers that he checked, seemingly searching for something missing.
After a few minutes, Note seemed to relax after finding nothing unusual with his bookbag. Perhaps he had been searching for evidence that Cheerilee had looked through his things while the bag was in her care.
The papers Note had taken from the bag lay on his desk. Cheerilee was unpleasantly surprised to discover that they were employment records for six different Canterlot schools. The student was checking up on his teacher.
Cheerilee slid down the tree and headed for home. Note either suspected her history was false, or worse, had already found evidence of it. She had no idea how he might have gotten his hooves on school records.
All the way back to her house, Cheerilee worried about the situation. She felt that beneath her present thoughts, there was something else she was missing. It was frustrating, but there was nothing to do but grit her teeth and focus on what she could.
At home, Cheerilee grabbed her mirror. Luna showed up, wearing a tiny pair of reading glasses perched on her nose. They made the Night Princess look rather silly, but the schoolteacher had no time to comment.
Cheerilee quickly explained about the school documents. Luna frowned. “I handled those personally. While it would be impossible to covertly insert perfect records of employment, we were able to get you a job in Fillydelphia without much trouble.”
Reassured, Cheerilee nodded. “There is another problem, though. When I visited Timber Construction last night, there was a fight. A very short fight. I, um, got my hindquarters handed to me.”
Luna frowned, both at Cheerilee’s report and the language she’d used to deliver it. “You lost? To who?”
Cheerilee looked away. “I didn’t see. It happened too fast.”
The Princess was silent for a moment. When she continued, her voice was softer. “Cheerilee, in the relatively short time that I’ve known you, you’ve come a long way. I’ve watched you push yourself harder and harder, yet you haven’t discovered your limits yet. Don’t take it too hard. We all get beat sometimes.”
Cheerille nodded. I’ll be better next time.
Luna glanced down through her glasses at something past the frame of the mirror. “I’m afraid you’ve caught me in the middle of some paperwork.” She sighed. “I don’t know how you find it so relaxing.”
The schoolteacher laughed. “It’s all about frame of mind. When I’m grading papers, I’m away from the rush of the rest of the day.”
The blue pony smiled. “That’s a good way to think of it. Have a good night.”
Cheerilee said goodbye and turned to the window as the last rays of sun dissapeared from the horizon. Princess Luna must have found a break in her paperwork, because the moon began to rise shortly after twilight had faded.
▼▼
Note was again almost late to class. Something in his manner was different, however. He seemed determined, confident. Cheerilee wondered what might have changed his attitude so quickly. She decided that the two of them needed to talk.
The schoolteacher got her chance that afternoon. The class began packing up as the last bell rang. Cheerilee pulled Note aside. “I have something I want to ask you.”
He nodded. “There’s something I want to ask you, too.”
Both of them waited until the last of the students filed out of the room. Cheerilee asked, “You’ve been acting differently lately. Is something wrong?”
“I think so,” said Note. “You aren’t from Canterlot like you said. The schools there have no record of you.”
Cheerilee frowned. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“I’ve seen documentation from all six schools.” The young pony’s voice rose angrily. “You’re a liar.”
“There are eight schools in Canterlot,” said Cheerilee sternly.
Note’s mouth dropped open and sweat broke out on his forehead.
“And just where did you get these records?” demanded the teacher.
“They were...uh...” All of his previous confidence gone, Note stuttered, wilting under Cheerilee’s stare.
The schoolteacher backed off her harsh expression. “Note, what’s going on?”
Taking a step backwards, a spark of the student’s boldness briefly returned. “Meet me at the stone arch in the park tonight at midnight.”
Note turned and ran from the room. Cheerilee stared after him, confusion and concern running through her mind. Why would the young pony want to talk somewhere else?
Worried, and not for herself, Cheerilee collected her things and left the school. She debated going to Note’s house and talking to his parents, but decided to wait and see what would happen that night. If necessary, she could drag him home and let his parents take over from there.
Cheerilee was only vaguely familiar with the Fillydelphia City Park, and went by there on her way home. The stone arch Note had referred to had been built by a local geometry club, of all things. It was a tall symmetrical half-circle made of precisely cut blocks that each weighed much more than any pony. It was so finely made that it stood without any supporting structure or mortar.
The schoolteacher thought the arch was rather beautiful, but wasn’t able to appreciate it in her current situation. There was a lot on her mind, and it irritated Cheerilee that she couldn’t seem to make sense of it.
She’d lied to Note. There really were only six schools in Canterlot. The fact that he didn’t know that, but had the records meant that maybe he hadn’t gotten the information on his own.
Cheerilee shook her head. Going to the meeting still seemed to be her best shot at finding out what was really going on. Then maybe she could get back to searching for a killer.
▼▼
There were no more mice in Cheerilee’s house. Nor were there any squirrels in her trees or rabbits in her bushes. Her house, lawn, and garden were somewhat worse for wear. Now that all the easy wildlife had been taken, she would have to start hunting in other areas. Unless there was some other way to get blood, living in the city was not going to work out for her.
Cheerilee looked at a few holes in the drywall. The mice had been worth it, but the homeowner’s association would not be pleased.
The mare checked the time and decided to get going. She walked slowly, hoping for something new to come to her. “Show up at the arch and play it by ear” was not a very good plan. Unfortunately, she hadn’t had any better ideas even with several hours of thinking. There were just too many unknowns.
Note was waiting when his teacher arrived. His eyes were wide, and he appeared even less composed than he had in the classroom. He looked like he wanted to go home.
“What’s so important that you wanted to meet me here?” Cheerilee asked. Note twitched like he was going to run as she came closer, but held his ground. “What’s wrong, Note?”
A new arrival stepped out from behind the arch. “I told him what you are, vampire.”
Crosscut stepped up beside Note, holding a wooden stake within the grasp of his magic. He stared down Cheerilee confidently. The schoolteacher rolled her eyes and sighed dismissively. “I suppose you also told him that I’m not from Canterlot.”
“I think that’s relatively minor compared your status as a blood drinking monster.” Crosscut frowned in annoyance. Apparently Cheerilee was not taking things as seriously as he had hoped.
“Vampirism? That’s a little hard to prove, don’t you think?” Glancing at Note, Cheerilee said, “Have I ever done anything to make you think that I’m, ah, a blood drinking monster?”
Note opened his mouth, but couldn’t think of anything to say. He looked back and forth between the mare and the stallion as they glared at each other. The young pony finally managed, “I don’t know.”
“You want proof?” said Crosscut. “How about this?”
Cheerilee smacked the stake away as it thrust towards her heart. The point grazed her side, but she was already leaping at her attacker. She shouted, “Run, Note!”
The student eyes couldn’t get any wider with surprise and fear. He could at least listen, however, and turned to escape.
Cheerilee suddenly remembered the nagging sensation she'd had since visiting Timber Construction the second time. The noise, or lack thereof, that troubled her had been covered by the workers chipping at bricks. Crosscut didn't have a heartbeat.
The vampire stallion moved quicker than anypony Cheerilee had ever seen before, including herself. Despite that, he couldn’t back up fast enough to get out of her way. Her hooves slammed into his chest and the unicorn impacted the base of the arch with enough force to dislodge the delicately placed stones.
Cheerilee ducked out of the way as one of the chunks of rock landed where she had been standing. One fell directly on top of Crosscut, but he deflected it with a combination of strength and magic. Cheerilee’s eyes tracked the stone as it flew through the air, realizing with horror that it was headed directly for the running Note. She started in his direction, but not even her speed would be enough. The young pony was crushed to the ground with a sickening noise.
Cheerilee was there an instant later, rolling the rock off him. Note’s lower body was broken and misshapen. From his chest up hadn’t been touched, but he had suffered such a trauma that there wasn’t a thing in the world that would save him. Well, maybe one thing.
The schoolteacher gritted her teeth, feeling the tips of her fangs resting against her lower gums. She glanced up. Crosscut was gone. She was alone with the dying student.
Note was trying to breathe. His eyes showed that he was aware of his dire situation. He gazed at Cheerilee with a pleading look.
She stayed with him until his heart stopped beating.