Chapter 1 - Bad Hair Day
Laura Tanner stared at her lightly freckled face in the bathroom mirror as she pulled the drawstrings of the hood of her jacket closed, the fabric encircling her face in a tight oval. Her blue-gray eyes betrayed doubt as she reflected on how much she did not feel like she had reached seventeen a month prior despite what the calendar said.
Her muted self-assessment was broken by a sudden fit of coughing. She took in her next breath slowly, gripping the edges of the sink until her sides no longer wanted to spasm. Of all the things about the flu she hated, nothing was worse than the lingering cough that never wanted to go away. She considered playing up on that at breakfast to get out of going to school that late March Monday morning, but she was already pushing it with the jacket. Not to mention she never could cough convincingly on demand, not like her little sister could.
Laura took a deep breath, silently cursing herself when it triggered another round of coughing, and turned to leave the bathroom. In the hall, she stopped at the sight of a shorter blond-haired girl standing with her arms folded.
"What?" Laura demanded.
"You're so fake," said the girl with a smirk.
Laura's frown deepened as she pushed past the girl. "I don't have time for this, Jenny."
Fourteen-year-old Jenny Tanner spun around, her long hair flying. "Yes, let's all make way for her Majesty the Queen! She has so many appointments that she has little time for the poor little peasant girl who--" Her voice strained and broke up into coughing.
"Yeah, see who the faker is now," Laura muttered.
Jenny tried to talk through her coughing. "Hey, I had the same flu you did, you know."
"Yeah, but you milked it for all it's worth."
Jenny paused until her coughing subsided. "And you're not doing the same now? Let me guess: you're going to claim you still have chills."
Laura sorely wished Jenny did not have an uncanny way of reading people like a book.
Jenny grinned. "Anyway, I know what's really wrong."
Laura's heart thumped. "No, you don't."
"Yes, I doooo!" Jenny sang.
Laura resolved not to let her little sister push her buttons that morning. She suspected this was just a fishing expedition, hoping that Laura would get riled up enough to drop hints. "Whatever you think is going on is of no concern to me," said Laura in a calm voice. "Now, excuse me, I'm heading downstairs."
Jenny slapped her hands together in a supplicating gesture, and her face took on an exaggerated pleading look. "Oh, but Your Majesty, what of this poor little peasant girl who may know things about the Queen that her adoring subjects would--"
"Oh, stuff it, Jenny!" Laura growled. "Don't involve me in your stupid little fantasies. At least I know how to act my age."
Jenny's face fell, her lips curling into a frown.
Laura felt some satisfaction that her little sister had that one button that could be reliably pushed. As she turned away, however, she realized she had pushed it so many times it had become worn with overuse, manifesting as a twinge of guilt. Had she not been dealing with her own problems, Laura likely would have rolled with it. Jenny could be entertaining at times, even if Laura thought her head was too much in the clouds.
Laura rushed down the stairs, pausing on the last stair to make sure her hood was in place before entering the kitchen, where she was welcomed by the aroma of sausage and frying eggs. Yet when she stepped inside, she drew up short when she did not see her mother standing at the stove.
"Um ..." Laura murmured.
A barrel-chested man with dark brown hair called out without turning around. "Morning, honey."
"Uh, morning, Dad," said Laura. "Where's Mom?"
"She was up real early as she had a site she had to visit," said Harold Tanner in a neutral voice.
"A site? I thought she was on hiatus from doing active digs."
"So did I," Harold muttered. He glanced over his shoulder. "She said she'd be back by this afternoon." He turned back to the stove for a moment before looking back at his daughter. "Laura, why on Earth are you still wearing that? You were wearing it all day yesterday."
Laura wrapped her arms around herself and pretended to shiver. "Still got some chills. Guess it's just leftover from the flu."
Harold's gray-eyed gaze remained on his daughter for another moment before he turned back to the stove. "I suppose you're looking to stay home from school another day."
Jenny wandered in as Laura replied, "No, actually, I'm not."
Jenny raised an eyebrow at her sister.
Laura allowed herself a little smirk. "Yeah, that's right, pipsqueak," Laura muttered. "I was intending to go to school all along."
Jenny shrugged.
"Laura, don't call your sister that," Harold said in a resigned tone that suggested this was not the first time such admonishment was dispensed and ignored. "Breakfast is almost ready, please go sit down."
Laura and Jenny headed into the dining room. Laura slid sedately into a seat while Jenny plopped herself into hers. "Her Majesty's schedule is too busy today to be bothered by such trifles as the lingering effects of prolonged illness," said Jenny. She paused a beat. "Or a problem with the royal coiffure."
Laura flinched. "What?"
"What would her subjects think?" continued Jenny in a voice as if she were giving a dramatic recitation. "Perhaps an evil fae has cast a spell upon her for her own amusement? Or would they suspect the Queen herself of being fae, her plans to enchant the kingdom now forever--"
"Jenny, shut up," Laura growled through clenched teeth.
Harold emerged from the kitchen with the pan of eggs. "Jenny, please, for one morning, don't annoy your sister."
Jenny rolled her eyes. "Fine. Let the Queen figure out her own problems."
"Thank you," both Laura and Harold said almost at the same time.
Jenny looked about the table. "But what of the royal squire? What is his fate this morning?'
Laura groaned. "What are you going on about now?"
After dispensing the eggs, Harold departed and returned with the pan of sausages. He had long since learned to decipher Jenny's speech when she was in one of these moods. He wouldn't openly admit it for fear of antagonizing Laura, but he often enjoyed Jenny's immersive fantasies. "Bob is up in bed," said Harold. "He got the flu last, so he's still recovering. I thought it would be best for him to stay home another day or two. He might still be contagious."
Laura rolled her eyes. "Not that it matters. The whole damn town came down with it."
"Well, almost," said Harold as he sat down. "Doctor Conner didn't, thank God. I know a handful of others who didn't either."
Laura's eyes flicked over to her father before gazing across the table at Jenny. Jenny looked back with inquisitive soft blue eyes. Laura immediately turned her attention to her breakfast. "So, um, he's still okay? Still taking patients?"
"I imagine so, yeah." Harold looked at his daughter. "Why?"
"No reason," said Laura.
Harold knew that was a lie, but he didn't have the same finesse for drawing out the truth like his wife Sarah did. Usually she was the one who found the truth, and Harold was the one who meted out discipline.
As if suspecting that her father was contemplating his daughter's problems too closely, Laura lifted her head and said, "So, um, Dad, have you had any luck?"
Harold sighed. "Yes. All of it bad."
"Sorry. Isn't anyone hiring?"
"Oh, they're hiring," said Harold with a small frown. "Just not with the convenience of working remotely. The big fad lately in the IT world is having people in the office again."
Laura frowned. "If Mom hadn't insisted we settle in this stupid nowhere town--"
Harold shook his head. "Lazy Pines is not exactly nowhere. Just down the state highway is Silverthorne and the big lake there, and past that is Breckenridge with its big ski resort, and another popular lake just north of here. And we're not going to be here forever, just until Sarah finishes her book."
"If she ever does with all the side-trips she keeps taking," Laura muttered.
Sarah Tanner negotiated her jeep down the steep switchback, early spring snow crunching under her wheels and leaving deep tire tracks in her wake. The morning sun lighted the ground in blinding display, forcing her to wear sunglasses despite how they made it hard to see small details. As the ground finally leveled off, she clutched the steering wheel with one hand as she fumbled to pop another cough drop with the other.
Despite the straightening road, she slowed her approach, her gaze tracking up the cliff that loomed above her, then sliding down to the dwelling that had been carved into its base around the 13th century by ancient Native Americans. Only small drifts of dusty snow had crept inside, as the shape of the valley tended to funnel the wind laterally.
Sarah caught sight of a man waving to her up ahead. She pulled over and killed the engine. She drew her hair back and tied it into a makeshift ponytail so it would stay out of her way even as her booted feet hit the snowy ground. Sunlight made her soft brown hair glow almost like an aura, breath fogging the air before her as she stepped forward.
"Sarah, thanks for coming on such short notice," said the lanky, slightly balding man. "I know you're not really on 'active duty' these days, so to speak."
Sarah stepped into the shadow of the cliff and pulled off her sunglasses, her blue-green eyes squinting. "It's fine, Greg. Your message said this was important."
"I know this is not exactly the ideal time of year to look at one of these sites," said Greg as he led her towards the cliff dwelling. "But this way, well, we don't draw attention."
Sarah did not like that they had to rely on this bit of subterfuge. Science was not something that was supposed to be conducted in secret. "You said you didn't want to say what it was on the phone. Can you explain it to me now?"
"Best I just show you," Greg deadpanned.
"You know I don't like it when you act mysterious."
"Sorry, but, well, I'm not even sure myself what this could mean."
Sarah uttered a despondent sigh, but her heart raced. She glanced to the side as they passed the kiva that had been uncovered the previous year, and she felt a pang of disappointment when he did not take her there. More than anything she wanted to find more artifacts, preferably another treasure trove like the one that had been literally stolen from her at the previous site.
Sarah raised an eyebrow when Greg took her past the cliff dwelling entirely. "What's going on?"
Greg remained silent and ducked around an outcropping of rock caused by a wide fissure in the cliff face. In a small natural alcove, he stopped under a rock face angled at about forty-five degrees. Sarah blinked as she struggled to see in the deep shadows, until Greg clicked on a flashlight.
Sarah's breath caught as her eyes fell on the petroglyphs. She said not a word as she stepped forward to better observe the work of the ancient artist who had painstakingly scratched away the surface rock to reveal the darker layers below, thus etching an image.
"So what about it?" Greg said. "Is it real?"
Ever fiber of Sarah's being wanted to scream that it was, yet the scientist in her had to consider every possibility. "This is incongruous." She reached a finger towards the petroglyphs but did not dare touch them. "These look almost like horses."
"Uh-huh. Just like those artifacts that were stolen from that site last year."
Sarah sighed. "Greg, you said you were going to take another look for all the photos we got of--"
Greg shook his head. "I've been through everything we ever cataloged, Sarah. I can't find any evidence we ever took any pics."
It had been bad enough that someone had made off with the artifacts themselves, but to take the photographic evidence as well had incensed Sarah to no end.
Greg looked at the petroglyphs. "So they look like horses."
"Except, by conventional wisdom, they can't be," said Sarah. "The ancestral Puebloans didn't have horses. Native Americans in general didn't have horses until the sixteenth century."
"Which is what you said when you found the other artifacts." He looked at the petroglyphs again. "The proportions do look a bit skewed."
"Which would be consistent with a second-hand account of domesticated horses if they never actually saw one themselves." Sarah turned to Greg. "What do we know about this site?"
"Only that is was abandoned fairly quickly after it had been founded," said Greg. "This was during a period of a lot of warfare among the tribes." He jerked his head towards the petroglyphs. "To me, these look like they're incomplete, like the work was interrupted."
Sarah took a closer look. It did appear as if the artist had intended to draw three figures, but only two were completed. She narrowed her eyes at the center image. "Look here. Does this look like a wing?"
"Good, I'm not the only one," Greg said.
Sarah took a deep breath. "Who knows about this?" she said in a low voice.
"This little crevice contains the sum total of the humans on this planet who have seen it, at least as far as I know."
"Let's keep it that way for now."
"You think this will affect your book?"
The whole premise of Sarah's book was a radical theory that the ancestral Puebloan societies -- often referred to as the "Anasazi" outside of scientific circles -- had contact with other civilizations, perhaps in this case one that had brought with them the concept of horses.
"Only if I can prove it," said Sarah in a soft voice.
"And the wing?" Greg prompted.
"That has to be a mistake by the artist, or it's symbolic of something else." She sighed. "Or it's a fake. I'm going to have to come back here in the summer and really study this site. In the meantime, I have to get going if I want to make the drive back home."
"How's your family doing?" Greg asked as they trekked back to her car.
"Better," Sarah said. "The flu really knocked everyone flat, but now only Bob is still sick."
"You sound a lot better yourself."
Sarah rolled her eyes. "Only because I've been popping cough drops like a damn junkie. God, I hate the cough most of all."
Greg tilted his head as the bright sunlight played off Sarah's hair. "Well, that's new."
Sarah turned around as she reached her car. "Huh?"
Greg smiled. "Trying out a new hairstyle?"
"What are you talking about, Greg?"
"The streak of red though your hair."
Sarah frowned and reached behind her head. "Where?"
"Right down the back of your head starting just below your hair tie."
She grabbed her hair and pulled it over her shoulder. Her eyes widened as she spied the streak of color, a bright cherry red a quarter inch wide. "I didn't know about this."
"Walk under something being painted, perhaps?" Greg suggested.
Sarah stared at the strands of hair. The color looked too even to be the result of a paint splatter. She frowned and tossed her hair back behind her. "I think I have an idea how this happened, and a certain hubbie of mine is going to get an earful." Sarah's cell phone twittered. She took it out and glanced at the missed call notification. "Speak of the devil. I better get out of here so I can get a clear signal. See you later."
She hopped in her jeep and made the slow climb out of the valley. When she finally had a consistent signal on her phone, she called Harold's cell.
"Hi, honey," said Harold in a subdued voice.
"Sorry I missed your call, I was still at the site," Sarah said. "Is something wrong?"
"Well, I don't know. Your daughter is acting weird."
Sarah frowned. "Why is it always 'my' daughter when something goes wrong?" She immediately clicked her tongue and said in a more contrite voice, "Sorry, forget I said that, it's been an interesting morning. What's up?"
Harold told her about Laura and her jacket.
"And here I thought you'd be complaining about Jenny," said Sarah.
"No, that's more your department," said Harold in an even voice.
Sarah gripped the cell phone tighter. "Let's not go there right now. So you think Laura is hiding something?"
"Yes, and I suspect Jenny knows what it is."
"Well, did you ask her?"
"Sarah, I'm not going to do that. It's bad enough how they go at each other in the best of times. Though Jenny did drop a clue. It might have something to do with her hair."
Sarah frowned. "Oh, really, now."
Harold sighed. "Hoo boy, I know that tone. What did I do wrong now?"
"Just as I was recovering from the flu, I went to do laundry," said Sarah in a slightly acid voice. "You left all your chemical solvents out. Again."
Harold dabbled in restoring old machinery, a hobby he had turned to much more often lately to keep himself busy while he was out of work. He often needed to use strong chemicals to remove years of crud and rust. Another motivation, though he didn't state it openly, was finding something he could use around the house without having to pay a lot for it. "Uh, yeah, so?"
"You know I don't like it when you leave all that stuff out."
"I mean, what does it have to do with this?"
"The fumes likely did something to her hair."
Harold hesitated. "Run that by me again?"
"I've got a streak of weird color in my hair," said Sarah. "The only thing I can think of is that something reacted with my hair spray. I bet the same thing happened to Laura."
"What, seriously?" said Harold. "Those chemicals can't change hair color."
"Nevertheless, I want you to make sure they're all properly closed and stored away."
"Fine," Harold grunted. "Will you be back in town soon?"
"Hopefully by noon," said Sarah. "Then if Laura is still acting odd when she gets home from school, maybe I can figure out what it is."
Jenny dashed off the school bus as soon as the doors had opened, running full tilt across the gravel lot along the side of Lazy Pines High School. Her right foot came down squarely in the middle of a puddle of ice-cold melt-water from the lingering mounds of spring snow. It soaked through her sneaker and sock almost instantly, but she ignored it and the indignant cries from those whom she had splashed.
"Save your bellyaching," she heard her sister say to someone. "She's just a five-year-old in a teenager's body."
"Everybody's a critic," Jenny muttered.
She stopped only when the exertion forced her to breathe hard, which in turn made her cough. Her chest ached slightly, but she pressed on when she saw the object of her search up ahead. "James! Hey, James!"
A boy with sandy hair under a fur-lined hat turned his head from where he stood with several other boys his age. "Oh, hi, Jenny."
One of the other boys smirked and leaned over to whisper something to him, which made him blush and the others laugh. Jenny was oblivious to this as she stopped before the boy and said, "You have to hear this idea I came up with. I'm just bursting with the need to tell someone!"
James Carlyle cleared his throat. "Uh, sure, we can do that."
Jenny remained where she was bouncing on the balls of her feet.
"You mean right now?" said James.
"Of course I mean right now," Jenny said.
"We'll catch you later, James," said one of the other boys with a grin.
Jenny flinched as if surprised to see someone had been standing there all along.
"Yeah, later," James said before turning back to Jenny. "So now what?"
Jenny tilted her head. "What do you mean 'now what?'"
James tugged his hat down. "Sorry, been having a bad morning."
Jenny glanced up. "Why are you wearing that hat?"
"It's cold out."
"It's not that cold, and besides, it looks ridiculous."
James rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and good morning to you, too."
Jenny sighed. "I'm sorry."
James had known Jenny for the better part of the semester, but he was still getting used to her penchant for blurting out whatever was on her mind, not to mention an exuberance that was sometimes barely a step below overwhelming. He smiled and shook his head. "It's fine. What's your idea?"
Jenny beamed. "A kingdom run by a powerful queen who secretly turns out to be a fae in disguise. She intended to wait until she had all her subjects adoring her before she lets loose with her magic to beguile everyone. Then she has a change of heart and decides to rule benevolently, but something happens that makes her slowly reveal her true nature despite everything she does. She sequesters herself so no one will see her transforming, save for a simple peasant girl who knows her terrible secret." She smirked. "And can you believe my silly sister was the inspiration?"
James grinned. "You say that most of the time nowadays."
Jenny giggled. "I'd tell you what it was that inspired me, but, eh, I don't think she'd want me to tell. I like poking her sometimes, but I don't want to be mean. So, anyway, I know the perfect place! I found it last weekend. It would make a good enchanted forest." She considered. "Well, dead enchanted forest until spring gets here, but you know what I mean. We--"
"Whoa, slow down!" James said. "What area is this?"
Jenny's eyes flicked to the side. "Um, just some place I found."
James raised an eyebrow. "Jenny, is it on private property?"
"Well, yes and no."
James sighed and wiped his face with his hand. "Something is either owned privately or it's not."
"Look, I've never seen the owner there, so maybe it's abandoned. Anyway, it's something like forty acres. No one will know we're there."
"That's what you said the last time!"
Jenny frowned. "How was I supposed to know they were going to pick that day to demolish the old mill? It made a perfect setting for--"
"Have you ever thought of maybe writing this stuff down instead of acting it out?"
"I'm not a good writer, and acting it out helps me remember it," said Jenny. "And it's more fun than being holed up in my room poring over a word processor."
James sighed. "Yeah, well, I may have to bow out."
Jenny frowned. "Why?"
"I really got read the riot act about the mill from my parents. They came close to forbidding me from hanging out with you."
Jenny's eyes widened. "They can't do that!"
"They can, but they didn't, but only if I agreed to stop doing these things with you."
Jenny threw up her hands. Her arm brushed against something to a yelp from James, but she barely noticed as she stalked off a short distance. "This is so not fair. This makes no sense. We never did anything inherently dangerous! We were perfectly safe in--"
She turned around and gasped. A split second later, James had jammed the hat back on his head that Jenny had knocked off, but not before she had seen the real reason for his unusual attire. As James turned to face her, Jenny clenched her teeth and clamped a hand to her mouth as her sides convulsed with repressed laughter.
"If. You. Say. One. Word," James breathed.
Jenny snorted. "I-I can't help it." She bubbled with mirth despite how much it gave her the urge to cough. "I'm not the one who dyed his hair green!"
James slapped a hand over his eyes. "I didn't dye my hair."
"Okay, well, not the whole thing, just that streak in the back," said Jenny. "But, good God, James, you could've picked a better color than that!"
James frowned. "That's just it, I didn't. I woke up this morning with that stupid bit of olive green in my hair."
"Oh, come on. I thought I'm the one who's supposed to come up with the story ideas."
"It's no story. Certainly not one I want to be part of."
Jenny hesitated. "You're really upset about this, aren't you?"
"Finally figured that out, huh?" James muttered.
"Look, I'm sorry, I just--"
"Never mind." He glanced towards the entrance of the school. "We better get inside. If you want to talk to me more about your idea -- just talk -- then we can hang out after school. But the excursions to all points hither and yon are out." He paused and added in a more contrite voice. "I'm sorry."
Jenny watched him go. "Yeah, so'm I," she muttered before stepping towards the entrance.
Laura ducked out of her last class of the morning and rushed down the hallway, clutching her books to her bosom like a shield. She bumped into a few peers as she barreled through their midst, muttering apologies as she went. She finally skidded to a halt before a girl with half her otherwise dark brown hair dyed pink. The girl turned her head. "Laura?" she said, her voice slightly raspy.
"Yeah, it's me, Tina," said Laura.
Laura's friend Tina Kelston flicked her eyes up to the hood, but otherwise did not react. "Feeling better, I take it?"
"If you mean the flu, yeah."
Tina coughed a few times and struggled to clear her throat. "Lucky you. I still feel like total crap, but my mother insisted I don't miss any more school."
Laura rolled her eyes. "Believe me, I almost wish I was still sick and could stay home."
Tina closed her locker and hoisted a satchel over her shoulder. "I know what you mean."
"Actually, I don't think you do," said Laura. "Are you headed home to get some lunch?"
"Yeah, I was. You want to come along? I still don't have much of an appetite, so I certainly have enough to share."
Laura uttered a sigh of relief. "I was hoping you'd say that. I really need your help."
Tina looked surprised. "You do?"
Laura glanced around and said in a lower voice, "I need your skill at dyeing hair."
Tina snorted. "You want to dye your hair? Seriously?"
"It's not what you think, I just ... look, can we get going? I don't want to talk about it here."
Tina gave her friend a wary look. "You're acting awfully weird."
Laura frowned. "Right now, things are weird, but you might be able to help me until I can figure this out."
"Well, okay, let's get going, then," said Tina. She chuckled. "I have to admit, I'm curious as hell as to what this is all about."
As they headed down the front steps of the school, Laura walked close to Tina and said in a low voice, "Your parents both work during the day, right?"
"Yeah, we'll have the house to ourselves," said Tina. She smirked. "Now I'm insanely curious as to what this is about. You finally work up the nerve to ask someone out and now you want to doll up your hair so--"
"No, that's definitely not it," said Laura firmly.
"Okay, well, that's one theory down the toilet," Tina said with a sigh. "All right, let's hustle."
She broke into a jog, and Laura gratefully matched her pace. They headed into Tina's house, and she closed the front door behind them before turning to her friend. "So what's this all about?"
Laura swallowed hard as she tugged the drawstrings loose from her hood. "Tina, please, whatever you do, don't laugh. This isn't the least bit funny to me."
"Um, okay," Tina said in a confused voice. "But what could be so bad that ..."
She trailed off, and her eyes widened as Laura drew back her hood and freed her hair from a string she had used to tie it back. A thick mess of bright orange curls spilled out around her head.
Tina's mouth dropped open. "Wh-what did you do to--?!"
"I didn't," Laura declared.
"My God, I'd kill to be able to dye my hair so evenly!"
Laura grabbed two fistfuls of hair. "This isn't dye. I don't know what it is."
Tina gave her a dubious look. "Oh, come on, hair doesn't just spontaneously change color."
"Mine did," Laura said. "It started Friday night, just one streak of orange. It got worse Saturday and Sunday, and this morning it had become completely orange and all curls."
Tina looked thoughtful. "Can you stand still for a minute and let me look at it?"
Laura nodded quickly.
Tina approached her friend, her wide eyes looking over the voluminous curls. She took one in her fingers and gently drew it straight. She brushed aside the nearby curls and examined Laura's scalp. "The color goes clear down to the roots! You sure you have no idea how this happened?"
"No freaking idea," said Laura. "It doesn't wash out, even after I used a ton of shampoo."
"Honestly, Laura, I'm not sure what you want me to do."
"Could you dye it back?" Laura asked hopefully.
"Come again?"
"Dye it back to the original color! Maybe help me straighten the curls out."
"I don't know about this. I mean, look." Tina lifted a few of her dyed strands. Unlike Laura's orange, Tina's pink was uneven in places, brighter towards the tips, and did not reach the roots. "I've gotten pretty good at it, but it's obviously dyed, and I don't mean just the color."
Laura's face fell. "So you're saying it's hopeless."
"What I'm saying is, I think you need a doctor more than you need me. Look, I know a lot about hair care. I can tell you right now that orange this bright is not normal. Not even the gene for red hair can produce as bright a shade as that, at least not normally." Tina glanced at Laura. "How the hell did you ever keep this from your parents?"
"The weird color started from the tips and worked its way up," said Laura. "On Saturday, I was able to arrange my hair so it wasn't noticeable. Sunday I had to start wearing the jacket and hood around the house. I claimed I was still getting chills from the flu."
"Laura, seriously, I'm stumped," said Tina. "I don't think I can do anything for you."
Laura nodded. "Thanks for looking at it anyway. I guess I'll see if Doctor Conner can squeeze me in on the way home from school."
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Hmmm, this seems interesting already!
orange poof......adagio?
Dammit Laura, I'm a doctor not a hairstylist!
Oohhh... an approach I haven't seen before. Interesting.
Curious......
This has a very Five Score feel to it. I look forward to reading more.
Uh oh. Looks like some government is hiding something from the populace. I am intrigued.
Meanwhile, the sinister Doctor Connon plays with his Pony dolls in the basement, "Soon, my little ponies... soooooooon."
i.imgflip.com/9ahf9.jpg
"I stand by my ridiculous claim."
I think i have a guess whats happening. though it would be kinda spoilers Huh?
Hmm... this seems like a Five Score story but yet.... wait....
MidnightChaos has a story like this!!!!
Taking a wild guess here, the hair color and curls and stuff are like their hair changing into manes, to which they're turning into ponies and the 'flu' was actually a magic spell that Celestia had kept in slumber for a good forever until now? I've only read the first chapter but I'm interested.
And the enchanted forest Jenny brought up is the Everfree forest!
this is starting out interesting I will give a few more chapters a try and see if it hold my interest.
I can say one thing throw in the cutie marks before the hair change and you have a five score story.
Just started reading this after getting back in to Plague Inc and seeing a custom scenario based off of this.
And I've been spooked.
" Her blue-gray eyes betrayed doubt as she reflected on how much she did not feel like she had reached seventeen a month prior despite what the calendar said."
I literally turned 17 a month and 6 days ago.
I should make sure to wash my hands regularly.
Oh come on James, just let your heart be your guide!
Seriously though, this story was just recommended to me and I have to say I like the hook and the concept so far!
Anyone else getting a five score vibe from this?
Am I the only one who wishes for the irony of Laura becoming an alicorn after the whole princess/queen spiel from her sister?
8532452
I do!
i0.kym-cdn.com/entries/icons/original/000/017/204/CaptainAmerica1_zps8c295f96.JPG
8532452
Definitely!
It's early March now and near the start of the 2020s... Now to see if you accidentally prophesized the end times.
9500158
I am waiting for it to happen
9500158
Imagine, bro that'd be so cool.
Well the world has a flu. A lot less fun though XD
Well well well...
So um... where's this pandemic, and when is it going to happen?
2020, oh god! :/ ...
10163683
Don't worry. First, this is fictional
Second, it would take a stronger disease than the flu to turn you into a pony
Third, 2020 is already halfway through.
Imagine if got this instead of Covid-19
10352776
YES
Hair color changing from the tips up? That should be a red flag for Something Screwy right there.
Ah, I see you've seen Steven Universe.
9500158
Rereading now, pandemic at the start of 2020s
Freaky Prophetic
Ha ha jokes on you I'm in the year 2021
The pandemic started around at 2020, March.
Coincidence? I think NOT!... nah, just jk.
It's funny, 'cuz this was written way before it started.
This fact itself makes this story not just interesting to read, but also makes me imagine that the writer time traveled through time, and suddenly decided to use this pandemic as an inspiration to write this fic, just to warn us... with ponies.
Nonetheless, this story looks promising. Going to try this out.
9500158
Wellll... About that...
10135911
it done happened
ah this is the perfect time to quote from Johntron
"that one didn't age quite so well"
Well, we got a pandemic, wasn't as bad as this though.
9919697
This comment aged like fine wine
First time reading this, already loving it and honestly that coincidence with the real deal in march 2020 is creepy but a laugh at the same time, this isnt the only case Ive seen either, as a Ghost fan, their 2018 album Prequelle was about the plague, also a funny coincidence.
Great so far great job 👍👍👍👍