//------------------------------// // Chapter 7: Can You Hear Me? // Story: Cooling Embers // by Incandesca //------------------------------// Three days. For three days Sunset searched, and nothing. Page after page of musty paper that made her cough on every turn. When would it end? When she'd grown old and gray? When the Sun died out? The heat death of the universe? Groaning, she slammed her forehead into the crook of the open registry tome. Why the registry wasn't preserved, Sunset could only wonder. Then again, this edition was from some three years ago, and Canterlot updated its census every year. Why bother to maintain something so trivial? It wasn't like it was falling apart, either. Enchantments saw to it the pages would not age or weather. They really ought to cast a dust-repellent spell on the damn thing, though. What Sunset really missed was the internet. Answers at her fingertips. Solutions drawn in seconds' time. But internet didn't exist in Equestria, so she had to try and find her old friend 'the old-fashioned way'. Ugh. Old-fashioned. Traditions. Who needed 'em? Applejack, probably. Good thing she wasn't here. Noticing her candle's fire had dipped low, she fed it a sliver of magic. The flame consumed it eagerly, flaring up with incandescent pride. Around her, pitch black gave way to shadowy yellow gloom. She blinked, squinting to see through the rejuvenated light. The archives of the Royal Palace surrounded her, towering some fifteen stories high. Each of those fifteen stories measured thirty hooves from top to bottom, and another thirty hooves across. It was not visible from the outside, however. Rather, this section of the castle had been built into the ground. Rows upon rows of books, tomes, and records lined the walls of each circular level. Between them opened up passages, which sprawled in neat little matrices for what could be as far as miles. Certainly, it encompassed the entire underside of the castle. Sunset smiled, remembering Twilight's reaction at the secret section of the Royal Library. That place had nothing on this. Sunset sincerely hoped Celestia never divulged the details of the archive to her alicorn friend. There was reason for genuine concern she might die of book-induced heart attack upon learning of its existence. But there were other reasons. Most of the information here pertained to records keeping, but not all records were so mundane as census registries. Dark, corrupting magics and other knowledges best left buried dwelt within these hallowed halls. Locked with spell upon spell of highly advanced, self-defensive key-layers they sat in black umbra, never to see the light of day. Not even Princess Celestia herself had the permission needed to access those grim branches. A pony could, with enough time and talent, break through. Twilight and Starlight could no doubt, if they put their minds to it. Any of the Princesses could as well. It would take years though - decades, even - without the exact correct combination of spell-locks and key words. One wrong step, and poof! At best, you'd be zapped straight to the dungeons. At worst - and if you'd gotten far enough - you'd be vaporized on the spot. Sunset shuddered, to think about it. Some ponies believed the powerful evils of the world influenced the areas around them. Locked up they could be restrained, but the hateful, sinister energies remained. They'd reach out, influence what they could in their tiny, minute ways. How far that influence reached depended on the power of the magic, or the intelligence behind it. Put bluntly, Celestia had buried the archives deep underground for a reason. A sudden chill crept along Sunset's spine, and she swore she saw shadows move on the wall. But, quick as they'd come, she dismissed them. She was safe, or else Celestia would never have agreed to let her down here. She was only imagining things. For the next few hours, she continued to pour through the registries. She had to be certain she wasn't missing anything, so she went down each page, name by name. She'd hoped she might be able to find Moonstone, or the parents who'd adopted her. Little luck in that, though, she realized. Pony families rarely passed on similar names and surnames. Pinkie's family stood as the sole exception Sunset could think of. Even Applejack's had differences. "Moonstone Gaze. Moonstone Gleam. Moonstone Glide. Moonstone Glow. Moonstone Gorget. But no Moonstone Gloom." Sun damn it all. She rubbed at her temples fiercely, swearing she'd given herself a migraine. The fact five whole-ass ponies existed in Canterlot all with the name 'Moonstone G-something' was enough to make her loathe Equestrian naming conventions. It did make her wonder if there were other 'Sunset Shimmers' around. Surely there must be, right? Pony names were quite literally as variable as verbs and nouns in the Equestrian language, however. There might be a thousand Sunset Shimmers spread across the nation, or there might be dozens. Just as likely, she might be the only one in existence, before and after her time. Whatever. She just wanted to find her friend. She yawned, wondering exactly how long she'd been awake now. She... thought she remembered eating breakfast. She couldn't deny the likelihood her exhaustion had her making mistakes. Maybe she'd misread one of the moonstone names, given how blurred her vision was. Or, in that same vain, she'd managed to skip past it. Again, she thought to the conveniences of human society. Internet oh internet. If only Equestria had comparable technologies. Wait. Wait wait wait wait wait. The lightbulb went off in her head. She jumped to alertness, and cast a flash spell to light the entire room. There. On one of the desks near hers, she spotted it. A phone. A shitty dial-up phone, granted, but a phone regardless. She'd completely forgotten Equestria had those. She raced halfway to grabbing it before she stopped, realizing she needed to actually know the number first before calling. That, fortunately, was far simpler a task than the one she'd been fighting. Phones were a rarity on this side of the portal. The number of ponies who had one in their homes likely numbered in the tens. No, it was institutions that had the privilege of telecommunication. She swept aside the registry, and cast a spell of finding. It reasoned that if Earth had phonebooks, Equestria did too. A few levels above her, she spotted a faint glow, shimmering in the same color as her magic. She took hold of it, eased it carefully from the shelf, and brought it down. She opened the slim book, amused to find the pages yellow, and searched. An hour later, she found it. By the phone, she punched in the number, hit the call button, and waited. It buzzed for several long moments. The longer it droned on, the more Sunset feared she'd not get an answer. Then, the phone clicked. "Hello?" she asked. "Yes, hi. Is this the Royal Canterlot Orphanage?" "Okay, great! Yes, you can help me. My name? Sure. Sunset Shimmer." "Yes, so. I'm calling to ask if you have any documentation on orphans that have already been adopted. Specifically, from about, uhhh. Ten? Sorry, eleven years ago. Anything like that?" "Oh thank Celestia. Okay, I'm looking for whoever adopted 'Moonstone Gloom'." "Thank you so much. Just to make sure I have the names right, that's Terracotta Glaze and Sirius Star, correct? Okay, okay, great. Again, thank you so so much. You have no idea what this means to me." "Why did I ask? Ah, yeah. I used to be an orphan there, actually. She and I - Moonstone I mean - were friends. I'm back in the city for a little while and trying to track her down. Big city, y'know? Yeah. Hahaha. Okay, again, thanks so much. You too. Bye." Grinning ear to ear, Sunset slid the phone into its holster, then whooped and cheered, dancing on her hindlegs." At about the same time, Starlight teleported behind her. The suddeness of it shocked Sunset something fierce. Though she'd never screamed when startled, she had a tendency to jolt, then freeze, before eventually finding herself able to move. She scowled, and got ready to bore white-hot holes into Starlight's eyes. The look of concern made her face soften. "Hey," she said. "Hey. You've been down here for like, basically the whole day. You even skipped lunch and breakfast." "I was researching." "Uh huh." Starlight didn't appear impressed by the explanation. "But," Sunset assured, grinning. She grabbed Sunset by the withers, and shook her frantically. "I'm done!" "You are?" "Yes!" Sunset released her grip. "I couldn't find her directly, but I found her parents - her adoptive ones, I mean. The orphanage had the records and gave me their access." "That's great! When do you plan on going? Not tonight I assume. You look horrible." "Do I?" "I could show you with a mirror spell, but I think I'll spare you the image. You look less like a pony and more like a ghoul. But, like, a hot ghoul." Sunset flushed, then smirked, punching Starlight's shoulder. "Shut up. Anyway, I'm hungry. Is it dinner time yet?" "Close enough." "Then let's eat." Sunset teleported herself from the botom floor of the archive to the top. Starlight followed. "I'll need a lot of energy for tomorrow." Bright cobble streets laid beneath Sunset's hooves. All around her stood buildings built from limestone, marble, and other white rocks, topped so often by lilac and lavender roofs. Where Old Canterlot's homes and buildings were all blocks and straight edges, much of the construction here swooped and twirled, reminding Sunset much of the spiral in a unicorn's horn. Given unicorns comprised the majority of the city's population, she doubted the choice in design was unintentional. This architecture rang familiar to Sunset, but it did not ring of home. She had not grown up here. In fact, she'd spent much of her time growing up despising this place, and High Canterlot most of all. Even during her days at Celestia's School, she preferred to reside on campus than explore the city. Now, as an adult, that animus had lessened. Bitterness remained, though it simmered away in a mild, reasonable manner. Rationally, she knew she had no reason to feel any negativity or ill towards this tier's residents, but. Well, rationality had never been her strongest virtue. Starlight walked beside her as they turned through the populated streets, past kitchy cafes, gourgeoise shops, and the odd street performer. Middle Canterlot without doubt had street life, but it was not the same as the lower tier. "Remind me why we're here again? I thought the address was in Old Canterlot." "It is, but I want to get them some gifts. Like a kind of olive branch. It's been years, and considering we broke off on poorer terms, I figure it can't hurt." Starlight nodded, and they continued. Sunset kept her eye out for more quaint, homely storefronts. Whether the sense was true or false, she felt things bought from older, more hole in the wall type places held better offerings. When she saw one building with red clay shingles, faded wooden shutters, and a small wooden door, she knew she'd found the right place. Pausing briefly at the windows she peered inside, to get an idea of their stock. Satisfied she went in, the door jingling a friendly chime. "Good afternoon!" The voice came from behind a shelf, female and elderly. After some shuffling, the mare stepped out, colored like mint and chocolate. On her slender snout perched librarian's glasses, and around her neck she wore a small white tie. Sunset smiled. "Afternoon, miss. You've got a lovely shop here, if I might say." "Why thank you dearie. It's a small affair, but I get by. You'll not find better quality for cheaper prices." She winked, and nodded her head towards the stocked shelves. "Need help finding anything?" "No thank you. Just looking around for a gift." "Wonderful, wonderful. Well, if you need assistance with anything at all, give me a holler. I'll be here." Sunset dipped her head in acknowledgement, slipping between the shelves. Starlight followed, looking around as wooden boards creaked under their hooves. They passed all manner of knick knacks. From music boxes to famous fiction novels, wooden figurines, antique jewelry and vinyl records. Plenty of good choices presented themselves, but most lay outside of Sunset's price range, and she wanted something simpler anyhow. Looking to see if they had any food or drink, Sunset found what she'd been looking for. In her teal magic she pulled down a bottle of aged red wine, a box of assorted chocolates, and a second box of marzipan, made and colored to look like the cutie marks of famous historical magi. Starlight snickered behind her. Sunset raised an eyebrow. "What?" "Nothing, nothing! Just seems a bit early to be asking her out as your Hearts and Hooves pony." "Oh ha ha." Rolling her eyes, Sunset went to the counter. "Find what you were looking for?" "Sure did. You've got some great stuff here, honestly. Might come back another time." "Please do." The kindly mare smiled, taking the items Sunset brought with her. After calculating the price, Sunset fished the bits from her saddlebag and slid them over the counter. "Pleasure doing business with you," the mare said. "Whoever your friend is, they're very lucky. Mare like you is quite the catch!" She winked. Sunset turned crimson, stammering. "It's not like that, I swear!" "Don't worry." The mare grinned, lowering her voice to a hush. "Your secret's safe with me." Groaning, as Starlight tittered quietly behind her, Sunset went out the door. "Now we go to Old Canterlot," she said. "It'll be after lunch by the time we get there, I think." "Mh. Lunch. I could use a bite to eat right about now." Sunset shook her head. "I've got some place better in mind." Instantly, Starlight perked. "The market again?" "Nope! You'll just have to wait and see." "No fair." Sunset tossed her a sidelong smirk. "Consider it payback for teasing me about the chocolates." "And the wine." Sunset rolled her eyes again. "Yes. And the wine." It took near two hours of walking to reach the lower tier. Recognizing they were close to where they'd been some days earlier, Sunset took the lead, guided by familiar old landmarks. When she reached the Orphanage, she stopped, observing the building for several long, quiet moments. Beside her, Starlight appeared momentarily confused, before noticing the signage on the building's front. Their eyes met briefly. Starlight said nothing, allowing Sunset her time of silence. She smiled, and returned her attention to the building. It looked the same as she'd left it, a thousand lifetimes ago. A part of her wanted to walk right up those steps, knock on the door, and apologize to Swan for everything she'd done. But she couldn't. She had other things to attend first. Sighing, she continued on their trot. Beyond the alley, the streeplamp that flickered even during the daytime, they passed old alchemist and magic shops. Several had closed, for good or the time being. Some had gone under new management. Seeing them all, remembering her little schemes from back then, she couldn't help but snicker. Starlight looked at her oddly, wanting deathly to ask for explanation. This only made her laugh harder. Before the point where they'd start heading to Sunset's old school, she took a different turn. It led away from the housing, closer to the market. The presence of manicured hedges and pretty yellow string lights - off at this time of day - announced they'd arrived. Sunset looked for that old favorite of hers, on the right side of the street, six businesses down. She couldn't wait for a taste of their sweet, savory, red as sin tomato bisque. Served with hoofmade sourdough and topped by fresh basil, it could warm a pony up from the inside better than anything short of spiced cocoa. Her heart fell, when she saw the building. "This the place?" "No," Sunset admitted. "It's gone." Big Yam's Cafe was nowhere to be seen. A new restaurant had appeared in its stead, but not one Sunset knew. "I'm sorry." Sunset sighed. "It's whatever. We might as well eat here anyways." She was glad at least to find they'd not ditched the outdoor seating. Today, with the Sun out and gentle warm, breeze light and airy with a clear blue sky above, a pony couldn't ask for better weather. Beneath an unfolded green umbrella, she sat, Starlight across. Some moments later a stallion appeared, tan of coat and white of mane, bearing a spiffy waiter's uniform. Sunset saw the menu was quite similar to the previous. Though, cafes often served similar foods. She ordered the tomato bisque with the fresh, hoof-squeezed lemonade, and hoped it might be half as good as Big Yam's. It wasn't. Or, at the very least, it wasn't the same. The bisque was orange, not red. More salted than peppered. The sourdough was softer, but not as sour, and instead of basil they served it with thyme and rosemary. Were it not for the context she'd have been perfectly satisfied with the meal. Instead, she left with her stomach as heavy as her heart. She shouldn't have been as upset by this turn of events as she was. Silly, stupid emotions. She repeated to herself restaurants often lived short lives, but it eased her little. Downtrodden, and on the suggestion of Starlight, they ventured to the nearby public park. Sunset remembered coming here once or twice in her orphanage days. The Matrons wanted to ensure their charges got a healthy dose of nature and Sunlight. Mostly even of ground, the area stretched on for some miles like a carpet of emerald. Populating the terrain were trees of hardy variety - oaks, elms, maples, and pines. Flowers and bushes tended to by gardeners of the city district's employ provided a needed pop of color beyond the majority greens and browns. Residents and visitors mingled in small to large groups. She saw several parents with their foals, and smiled to herself. Unlike her old playground, this place hadn't changed a bitt, and for that she found herself pleased. It would have made a perfect picnic spot. As it was, they used it to pass the time and relax. They spent their hours traveling the paths, packed hard from decades of hoof-traffic. On a few occasions Sunset took them off-road to see old sights, or Starlight to witness unfamiliars. Home to placid lakes, little glades, and dens for smaller critters like rabbits and birds, the relative wildness of the park surprised Starlight. Wondering how such a place could exist up in the colder, less kind elevation of Equestria's capitol, Sunset explained the history. Although the council for Old Canterlot struggled to fund what it needed, this park represented something of a pride for the area. Sunset had been too young to understand it, but with fewer sources of high-income economic activity, the populace found care and defended fiercely their historical ties. The park was one such thing, like the Royal Orphanage and public libraries. Constructed on the Princess' orders early in the city's history, she'd been responsible for its upkeep and reputation. Rumors told the parameters and appearance of the park had been built with Celestia's explicit words in mind, either as a recapturing of the wilds from Equestria's previous capital, or perhaps something far more ancient. Sunset had never asked, because she'd never especially cared. Though, she suspected the latter. The park wasn't at all reminiscent of the old capitol's wilds, what eventually became the Everfree Forest. There was too much a variety of trees. Too many flowers. Too many fields that made Sunset think they'd have been open plains if not for the park's constrictive perimeter. It was a snapshot of ancient Equestria, Sunset was certain. A memory preserved by the mind of an eternal, recreated upon the wishes of that same mind. Sunset closed her eyes, and beyond the black pictured the front of Big Yam's Bistro at noon. Sun shining above. Ponies in seats, chatting, as the titular Big Yam himself came around and served his customers directly. She wondered if Celestia came here often. She wondered, had she the powers of an absolute ruler, if she'd preserve those memories too. Most of all, she wondered if it was healthy. Hours later, and reddish dawnlight filtered through the darkened trees. Higher up pale gold kissed the horizon on a backdrop of pink sky, scattered across it streaking amber clouds. Starlight gave a lopsided grin, one with which Sunset had become irritatingly well-acquainted with. "Hey Sunset, loook, it's sunset." "Mhm." "Must be a sign of good luck, don't you think." Despite herself, Sunset grinned back. "Shut up and let's get going." The return trot towards residential took less than an hour. Stars twinkled faint, and Luna's Moon had just begun to peer down as Celestia's Sun had, in turn, dipped out of sight. Sunset glanced back at the streetsign, the number on the house's front, and finally the slip of paper held in her magic. Confirming the address, she breathed in and stepped onto the porch step. The home had little in the way of lawn or patio. It had been built like much of the other housing in lower Canterlot - diminutive, tight, long, and narrow. 'Shotgun style', the humans called it. She didn't know the term Equestrians used. But, the owners had made the best of the restrictive space. What they could comfortably squeeze in to the concrete porch was dominated by pottery, some glazed and others plain. Planters lined the windows, filled with flowers. Any doubts she might not have the correct address vanished the moment she saw amongst them shocks of Moonstone Bloom. Against the rustic red of the clay and warm shine of sunset, their comforting blue glow seemed even more breathtaking. She breathed in deep. Starlight beside her, wicker basket held between and in it gifts, she knocked. Behind the door, floorboards creaked. Each hoofstep made her heartbeat quicken. They grew softer as they came closer. Then, as the lock engaged, Sunset's throat tightened. The door swung open. The bulky frame of a large stallion greeted her. Muzzle like a blok, his short, mussy mane and tail called to mind the color of bricks. He was certainly built like one. His orange eyes passed over the mares, and an easy smile crept on his face. "Evenin', folks," he said, all bass and rumble, but tinged with the ghost of rural twang. Briefly, he noted the gift basket between them. "New neighbors?" Sunset shook her head, smiling back. "No. I'm a friend of your daughter's. Moonstone Gloom?" He nodded. "Swell. Why don'tchall two come in. Better'a talk there." "Who is it, honey?" A voice called from inside the house, also male, though lighter in pitch. "Friends 'a Moony's!" He stepped back, ushering them inside. "I'm Terracotta Glaze, fer the record. Pleasure to make your acquaintance." "Likewise," said Sunset, and shook his hoof. She gave him her name, and Starlight after. Once their hooves met carpet, the door shut behind them. What Sunset presumed to be the other voice's owner entered the hallway. A thestral, she noted, with black, silver-flecked hair and deep purple fur. Terracotta introduced the stallion as his husband, Sirius Star, then led them to the kitchen and dining room. Like the rest of the house, it radiated warmth, all red carpets, wooden floors, brown and orange walls. They offered Starlight and Sunset seat at the table, fit for a small family. Upon the polished brown surface sat a hoof-crafted vase with Moonstone Bloom inside, at its center. Sunset took her place at the bottom, Starlight to the right side's end. Terracotta contented himself opposite of Sunset. "So, what's that there basket ya got?" She set it down on the table, slipping from it bottle and box. "Wine and chocolates. Just some gifts." "Woah-ho now, you a friend of my daughter's, or a 'friend'?" He laughed, a booming sound that rattled the framework. Sirius chortled beside him, Starlight joining in. Heat lashed Sunset's cheeks, and her nostrils flared. As the laughter settled, Sirius caught his breath and nudged a wither leftwards, towards the kitchen. "I was cooking up dinner, if you two would like to stay." "Sounds wonderful," Starlight said, and Sunset agreed. Nodding, Sirius returned to his kitchen post, out of sight. "So how is it you and Moony know each other?" Cotta asked. At that moment Sirius returned. Tucked beneath his wings he carried two wooden bowls of steaming stew, setting each down in front of Sunset and Starlight. He left, fetched two more for him and Terracotta, and finally some glasses and a pitcher of water. When everypony was seated, Sunset resumed. "Well, it was a long time ago," she betrayed. "She and I lived for a couple years at the Royal Orphanage." "Ahh. Yes, sure was a time ago. And what was yer name again, say?" "Sunset Shimmer. We were kinda the only friends we had there." "Interesting," Star mentioned. "I don't recall her ever mentioning that name, but she was always the quieter type." Sunset's smile twitched. It took all her strength to maintain it. "Oh, yeah." She laughed, manufactured. "I remember. Say, is she around at all, or coming home from work anytime soon?" Terracotta shook his head. "Oh no, she ain't been here for 'bout a year. Left for Manehattan to stake it out on 'er own." Sunset's heart dropped. "Ah. Well." She made the effort to smile brighter. "Give her my regards, if you get the chance. I'd like to see her again sometime." "Sure can do. And now, what's this wine you got here?" Terracotta picked up the bottle, turning it over. "Just a vintage red. Here, let me get it for you." Sunset politely took it from Cotta's grasp, and popped the cork with her magic. "Got any wine glasses?" Sirius nodded, left and returned with four. They spent the evening chatting, dining. The two stallions and Starlight nursed their wine. Sunset guzzled hers. By nine, with the bowls empty and bottle nearly drained, Sunset stood on shaking legs. "This was lovely," she said, lying. "But we should probably get going." "Sure you don't want to stay for dessert? Sirius asked. "No thanks. Full enough as it is, haha." Again, she lied, though only in part. It wasn't food she was full of. Starlight gave her a look. Sunset ignored it. Back on the porch, they gave their goodbyes. Sunset shook hooves, thanked them, did all the proper, polite curtsies, and fought the urge to smash one of those pots to fucking pieces. The door closed, and Sunset turned on her heel, marching ahead and not giving a shit whether Starlight followed or not. For a moment her drunkeness threatened to topple her, but she managed to stay upright. Starlight trailed in silence, her lips pinched into a thin line. She said nothing, but Sunset knew what she was thinking, and resented it. Rather than walk the rest of the way, they simply teleported to the castle. Spell wards prevented them from teleporting directly inside, but better to slovenly stumble through the palace gates than half of Canterlot. "Are you okay?" Starlight asked. "Yeah. Fine." "You sure-" "Yes," she snapped. "Stop bothering me about it." Starlight said nothing. "I'm going to the archives. Goodnight." Sunset turned the corner, not sparing a glance back. She stood in front of the archive door. The entrance was attached to the palace only nominally, separated by a courtyard and several flights of stairs into the earth. Without thinking, she slid her horn into the socket. To her surprise, it clicked, and the doors creaked open, acting upon their own magically enforced will. Either Celestia had never revoked her horn signature from years past, or she'd seen it well to reinstate the permission in light of Sunset's presence. She sighed, stepping in to the darkness. Gradually, as the doors shut behind her, the candles flicked on, pair by pair. When she'd put between them and herself enough distance, they flickered out. At the end of the hallway another door stood, this one of old wood and older iron. She undid the latch, and entered to the smell of stale air, paper, and ancient candlewax. The unique bouquet eased her, a familiar friend and, right then, the only friend she had. She needed to read, to distract herself. Silence gave way to thoughts, and the thoughts she had now were not the sort she wanted to dwell on. In the true archives, she had to activate her horn to see, or elsewise manually light the candles. Other than the various wards and spell-locks, Celestia forbade enchantments of any sort be used. Idle magics could be pieced apart, and influenced by the darker forces deep within. Down several floors, weaving through countless passages lined from top to bottom with dusty, cobwebbed tomes, she located a section on ancient Equestrian history. Here, the shadows seemed thicker, almost viscous. Her fur stood on end, and the light of her horn penetrated scarce more than four hooves ahead. She brushed past the feelings, and searched for a good read. One text stood out, as tall as she was and one hoof thick. It documented not Equestria, but the kingdom of ancient Griffonstone, when the griffons had been at the peak of their power. For how long she read, she didn't know. She didn't bother to track the time that passed, nor did she care to. But, eventually, lateness took upon her its heavy toll. The faint sting in her eyes, the heaviness of her lids told she should consider sleep. She ignored it and continued on. It was only when the words blurred and she found herself reading the same passage again and again to understand it she gave in. Yawning, she stood and slid the book back in place. Behind her, something fell with a hard thud. She jumped, froze, finally managed to turn around. A book had fallen from the opposite wall, splayed open from cover to cover, face down. She plucked it up, and slid it back in place. As she did, she spied movement in the corner of her vision. She jerked her head its direction, but saw nothing. Then, she saw it. An eye, blazing ice blue, its pupil slit, staring from the darkness. She stumbled back, but as she blinked it disappeared. Chills raced along her spine, up and down, and the furs on her neck prickled. Heart pounding, she made her way up the stairs, assuring herself it was nothing. She was tired. She could barely see to begin with. She'd had a stressful day, and was just imagining things. Part running, part walking, she reached the top level. And as she stepped through the door to leave, Sunset swore she heard laughter.