Case Two, Chapter Eight: Sempre con fe' sincera
Daring tapped the side of the paper cup. The stale, muddy brown coffee inside shivered, sending ripples across the surface. It was the only real thing of interest in the interrogation room, with its bland white-walls, dim lightbulb set in the ceiling, and one-way mirror set in the wall next to her.
“So,” Trace Evidence said from across the table, looking down at his notes. “And that’s the whole story.”
“Yup,” Daring nodded, still staring at the coffee cup. She paused for a moment, then looked up. “What’s going to happen to Steamed Carrot?”
“There’s a rape crisis center that we can refer her to,” Trace stated, scribbling some more notes.
“But her job, her home?” Daring asked.
Trace paused in his notes, then slowly sighed. “I’ll go talk to her,” he said. “But there’s only so much that we can do. There aren’t many services available in this city.”
Daring scowled and pitched the cup and the swill it contained into a trash can tucked into a corner of the room. “It’s not right.”
“No, it isn’t,” Trace replied, closing the folder and standing up. “World isn’t fair, Daring. What’re we gonna do about it?”
“Well, somepony’s gotta do something,” Daring said, standing up and following him out of the room. They exited out into the hallway, which was lined with more doors that led into more interrogation rooms. Phillip was standing outside another room, staring through the one-way mirror. Night Waltz was inside the room, his back to the window as he spoke to Steamed Carrot. The mare was sitting with her shoulders slumped and her head lowered, staring at the paper cup that she was clutching with both hooves. Daring could just barely hear her answers to Night Waltz’s questions through the speakers set beneath the window. She spoke in a dull monotone, her replies mostly in monotones as she explained what she knew of the drug operation that had been run out of her home and related the tale of her abduction.
“So, let’s recap,” Trace said, joining Phillip. “We found a drug supply line into the Everfree District for the Nightmare Moon Disciples, and we found out their leader had been abducted and replaced with a lookalike so that a different group can find and kill their members.”
“The two shooters talk?” Phillip asked, not taking his eyes off the window.
“They both lawyered up as soon as we brought them in,” Trace grunted. “Neither of them have said a single word since.”
“Keep an eye on them,” Phillip stated. “If they’re making enemies like this, they won’t be safe here.”
“Good idea,” Trace nodded. “I’ll try to arrange extra guards for them tonight. Maybe we can get them to crack with some more talking tomorrow.” He turned to walk away.
“Trace,” Phillip called after him. The detective paused and looked back at Phillip.
“This doesn’t bode well,” Phillip said quietly. “There could be a war coming. Be careful.”
“You, too,” Trace nodded. He started to walk away, then paused and looked back. “You did good work out there,” he said.
“You did, too,” Daring said. “We wouldn’t have found her without your help.”
Trace nodded, hovering for a moment longer as if he was trying to think of something else to say. Ultimately, though, he was unable to articulate whatever feelings were percolating in his head, for he turned and walked away without another word.
Daring turned back to the mirror, watching Steamed Carrot take a slow sip of the coffee in a slow, mechanical motion. Her eyes stared straight ahead, registering nothing.
“We gotta try to help her,” Daring muttered.
“We should,” Phillip agreed. He lowered his chin to his hoof, thinking in silence. “Might have an idea,” he said after a moment.
“What?” Daring asked. Phillip whispered his plan into her ear. She considered it for a few seconds, then asked, “You think they’ll go for it?”
“I know Pinkie and Rara,” Phillip said. “They’ll go for it.”
Daring grinned. “Great. We'd better go talk to them about it. Besides, you still owe me a bottle of Manticore Rare."
There was the sound of a throat clearing from behind them. Both of them looked up to see Flash Sentry standing some distance down the hallway from them, one hoof pawing nervously at the ground. He fixed Daring with a wary gaze, his eyebrows narrowing slightly.
“Sentry,” Daring said, suddenly finding it hard to look at the younger stallion’s face.
“Ma’am,” Flash said with a cold edge in his tone.
“I, uh…” Daring stammered. She glanced up at Phillip, who gave her a glare. She swallowed in an attempt to soothe her suddenly dry throat, sighed, and turned to face Flash.
“I’m sorry for...for the way I treated you earlier,” Daring admitted, concentrating on looking at his eyes and not at his knees. “I was...I didn’t mean to…” She chewed on the air in her mouth for a while, trying to force into words, then sighed and dropped her head, staring at the floor. “Look, I’m sorry,” she muttered.
Flash was silent for a moment, then nodded. “I understand,” he said. “I appreciate the apology.” He stepped forward and raised his hoof. Daring hesitated, then stepped forward and bumped her hoof against his, both of them now smiling.
“Okay,” Flash said, lowering his hoof and turning to face Phillip, his face falling into more serious lines. “I thought about what you said, and...I could use your help. With this problem.”
Phillip nodded, then gestured with his head, instructing Flash to follow as he walked down the hallway. Flash and Daring followed in silence as Phillip walked into an unoccupied office littered with old chairs and tables, closing the door behind them.
“Start from the beginning,” he instructed Flash, sitting down in one of the wooden chairs. Flash sat down in a chair opposite and began his story, explaining how he’d witnessed Star harassing a witness and stood up to him, only to receive a serious beating.
Daring studied Phillip as Flash spoke. While his face remained impassive, she saw his shoulders slowly tensing up. His nostrils began to flare as his breathing became heavier.
When Flash finished his story, he sat leaned forward in his chair, his forelegs on his knees, bent down under shame. Phillip sat in silence for a few moments, then leaned forward and lowered his head to Flash’s level.
“So what are you going to do about it?” he asked.
Flash looked up, his expression showing confusion. “What?”
“Are you going to sit there and do nothing about it, or are you going to do something about it?” Phillip asked.
Flash frowned. “Well...when I tried to do something about it, he kicked my ass.”
“Your problem, mate, is that you allowed Star to control the fight,” Phillip told Flash. “You reacted purely defensively and played into his strengths rather than yours. That won’t win you any fights. If you want to be a fighter, you have to think offensively just as much as defensively.”
His eyes drifted down to the pouch on Flash’s belt that contained his mace spray. “Star is bigger and stronger than you, more experienced than you, and he has the advantage of being able to use magic. You can’t even the playing field; you have to tilt it to your end and keep it that way. And that means you make sure that he can’t fight back. You cannot give him that chance because if he gets that chance, he will beat you. You understand?”
“Yes,” Flash nodded, gripping his nightstick so tightly that his hoof started to turn white. “This time, if it comes to blows, I’m not letting up on him.”
Phillip was silent for a moment, then reached forward and laid a hoof on Flash’s shoulder. “Anger’s a useful tool, but isn’t your ally,” he told Flash quietly. “Control it, or it’ll get you into worse trouble.”
Whistling to himself, Star Cluster strolled down Main Street, which was brightly illuminated by the powerful light from the regularly spaced lamps, their artificial light almost powerful enough to blacken out the stars in the night sky above them. Star gave most of the ponies who passed by with a broad smile that didn’t quite reach up to his eyes, which caused many of the other pedestrians to quickly turn away. His narrow eyes spotted a bright yellow and red food cart manned by a gray burro, and he quickly trotted over.
“How you doing, Marcus?” he asked the attendant, snatching up the well-cooked carrot dog that Marcus was just dressing with spicy mustard and relish. The stallion who had just paid for his meal glared at Star, looking as though he was about to protest, but quickly shut his mouth when Star Cluster gave him a glare.
“Give me a break, Star,” Marcus protested, looking more annoyed than anything else. “I got a second kid on the way.”
Star Cluster smirked and leaned in close, wrapping a foreleg around Marcus and pulling him in close. “Be thankful that an occasional meal on the house and a payment a month are all we ask from you,” he hissed into Marcus’ ear. “Or would you rather we suddenly remembered your son’s penchant for shoplifting?”
The burro went very still, glaring at Star, though his eyes betrayed a touch of fear. Star Cluster grinned and tousled his mane before turning away. “Good luck with the kid!” he called, munching on his carrot dog as he trotted up the sidewalk.
“Star,” a familiar voice called. Star Cluster paused and turned to see Flash Sentry approaching him, his head held high and his expression calm and level.
“Coming crawling back like a whipped dog,” Star commented, pitching the remnants of his meal away. A few passerby stopped to watch the encounter.
“I’m done being your whipping colt,” Flash declared to Star Cluster. “I’m arresting you for assaulting a police officer and other charges.”
“And what makes you think you can pull that off?” Star Cluster smirked. “I beat your ass the last time you tried to stand up to me. Or do you need a reminder?”
Flash’s reply was to pull out his nightstick and step back into a defensive stance, glaring at Star. The other pony’s face instantly turned from a superior smirk to a snarl of rage. “You little fuck!” he snapped, stomping forward with a speed that shouldn’t have been possible with his bulk.
But as soon as he got close, Flash opened up his left wing, revealing a black spray can clutched in his feathers. He pressed down on the can and a spray of dark orange liquid flew from the can, right into Star Cluster’s face. The unicorn reared backward, clutching his face and howling in pain as the pepper spray burned his eyes.
Flash lunged forward and swung his nightstick, twisting his trunk and hips into the blow. All the humiliation, abuse, frustration, and anger that he had carried within him flowed from his belly up his limb and into the weapon; with a furious yell that echoed off the nearby storefronts, Flash struck Star Cluster in the jaw, sending blood and teeth flying. Star was knocked off his hooves with a solid crack, tumbling to the ground.
Flash bellowed and brought his baton down twice more, thumping Star on the back and ribs. Star howled in pain and curled up into a ball. He clutched his snot, tear, blood, and pepper spray-covered face with his hooves, rubbing vigorously in a futile attempt to ease the pain. Every rapid, shallow breath came in and out with a desperate wheeze.
Flash paused, his baton held up in preparation to attack again; his head continued to pound with the sound of his heart beating, and his chest heaved with his heavy panting, but the look of genuine fear and pain on Star’s face halted him. Panting, he slowly looked around. The passerby around him were staring at him like he was an angry timberwolf; a young mare with a filly crouching behind her foreleg backed away as soon as he turned his eyes on her. The drumming in his head ceased immediately as his heart plummeted into his stomach.
Turning fully around, Flash spotted Phillip and Daring standing behind him. Phillip was holding his foreleg in front of Daring, apparently stopping her from trying to rush at them. Phillip studied Flash’s face as he lowered his arm. Both ponies stood and watched, waiting to see what the younger stallion would do. Flash watched him for a moment of silent indecision, then slowly let out a breath and lowered his baton, tucking it into his sheath. He extracted his hoofcuffs from his belt and snapped one cuff sharply onto Star's wrist.
“Like I said, you’re under arrest,” he declared, his voice quiet and heavy from reflection as he snapped the other cuff on. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can—”
“Fuck off,” Star Cluster growled, coughing and wheezing. He tried to glare up at Flash, but was only able to manage a one-eyed squint. “You honestly...think that...this is gonna stick? I’m...a cop, you...dumb..son of a...bitch. We...make the rules...here.”
“You think you’re above the law, but you’re not,” Flash said coldly. “The reason we wear these badges is to remind everypony that the law is above everyone, including us.” He grasped Star Cluster by the arm and lifted him up, guiding him towards the alleyway towards Phillip and Daring.
“You did good, mate,” Phillip praised Flash as he approached. “Good onya.” Flash managed to smile weakly.
Daring grasped Star Cluster’s arm and pushed him around against the wall, leering into his bruised and red-stained face. “Are you the mole?” she snapped.
“What?” Star squinted at her, spitting a thick wad of mucus, blood and pepper spray onto the ground.
“You were there when Shifting Tone was attacked,” Daring snarled. “You helped the killer get away. You were the one who told him where we were. Admit it!”
“Look,” Star protested, breathing fast and leaning against the wall for support. “I’ve done a couple favors for the mobs, looked the other way and kept my mouth shut when they paid me. But I didn’t lead him to that hotel!” He managed to open his left eye and looked around at all three of them before shutting it again. “How could I? I had no idea where we going and no way to contact them!”
“Trace’s car,” Phillip grunted, glowering at him.
Star Cluster turned towards the sound of his voice, coughing. “The fuck are you talking about? What about his car?”
Phillip scowled, then turned and whispered into Daring’s ear. “I don’t think he did it.”
“Are you sure?” Daring hissed back, aware that Flash and Star were both trying to listen to their conversation.
“Wanker’s just a greedy bully. Too dumb to pull off a lie like that,” Phillip replied. “And too stupid for them to trust with something this important, or to pull off on his own.”
Daring scowled at Star. “So if he’s not the mole, who is?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” Phillip replied. “But we’re going to keep looking.” He turned to Flash. “Your prisoner, officer.”
Flash nodded and carried Star away by the foreleg, dragging him to the parked cruiser waiting at the other end of the alley. Phillip and Daring watched, then turned and walked back up the alleyway, away from him and into the bright lights of Main Street, flowing back into the river of ponies crossing back and forth on the sidewalk. In the distance, the great brick clocktower attached to the circular, carousel-like City Hall stretched up towards the night sky, its illuminated faces shining as brightly as stars.
“What now?” Daring asked as they started walking towards City Hall.
Phillip took the check out of his pocket. “Let’s head to the Apple Pie. We need some food, and to talk with the sheilas.”
Three days later, the door to the Apple Pie in Your Eye tavern opened and three ponies stepped inside. Phillip Finder gave the room a quick scan, then stood aside and held the door open for the other two. Steamed Carrot stepped tentatively forward, her eyes checking every face and every dark corner at least three times.
“I...I don’t know about this,” she said quietly.
Walking in next to her, Daring paused and waited for her to turn to face her. “It’s okay,” she whispered, smiling reassuringly and draping a wing protectively over her shoulders. “There’s nothing to be afraid of here; you’re with friends.”
Steamed Carrot smiled faintly and allowed Daring to lead her inside the tavern, Phillip walking ahead of them. The brightly-lit interior with its balloon decorations and the scents of cooking and fresh cider seemed to calm her, as Daring felt her shoulders loosening as she walked in. The ponies sitting around the tables raised their glasses and nodded in greeting. Steamed shyly smiled back in reply; Daring kept her wing draped over her like a shield.
It seemed to take ages, but they eventually reached the bar at the end of the room, where three mares waited. Applejack and Pinkie Pie were both standing behind the bar, while Coloratura was sitting in front of it, speaking to them both. All three mares smiled and waved as the trio approached.
“Sheilas,” Phillip greeted them. “This is her.”
Steamed Carrot’s eyes widened when she saw Coloratura. “You...you’re the Countess!” she said, a starstruck expression dawning across her countenance. “I loved your music! I have all your albums!”
Coloratura’s smile flickered briefly. “Thank you, but I just go by Rara now,” she said. “How are you, Miss Carrot?”
“I’m...I’m alright,” Steamed Carrot said, glancing around the room again.
Applejack poured out a mug of cider from a faucet behind the bar and slid it over to Steamed with a kind smile. “Here. Some of the Apple Family’s finest,” she said. “Good for what ails you.”
Steamed Carrot smiled shyly and took a sip. The taste of the sweet, tangy drink brought some color back to her pale cheeks and she stood up straighter.
“Let’s go into the kitchen,” Applejack encouraged, noticing her tenseness. “It’ll be quieter.”
Steamed, Phillip and Daring walked around the bar and followed the three mares through a pair of saloon doors into the kitchen. A long counter ran along the length of the room, with several ovens and refrigerators standing against the walls. A steaming, fresh-baked stack of small apple pies was standing on the counter next to a great pot of carrot stew, their flavors blending together in a wondrous aroma that floated into everypony’s nostrils.
“So,” Pinkie Pie said, leaning forward a bit. “We hear that you’re a super-duper cook!”
“Well, I wouldn’t say super-duper,” Steamed Carrot protested, blushing a little. “But I have been cooking since I was just a filly.”
“Her ratatouille is real ripper,” Phillip declared.
“Yeah, it’s good,” Daring agreed.
“Ratatouille?!” Pinkie gasped, leaping into the air in excitement and bouncing up and down as she spoke. “You didn’t tell me you made ratatouille! We’re gonna hire you, and you’re gonna make ratatouille for all of our guests and everypony’s gonna love it, and they’re gonna be like, ‘you make the best ratatouille ever!’ and you’ll be all, ‘Aw, it’s nothing!’” Pinkie Pie paused in her excited bouncing. “Just one question. What’s ratatouille?”
Steamed Carrot stared at Pinkie for a moment, then giggled quietly.
“Phillip and Daring also told me that you sing,” Coloratura added, leaning forward.
Steamed Carrot blushed again. “W-well, not as good as you, ma’am…”
“Please, sing for us,” Coloratura encouraged her. “I’m sure you’ll be wonderful.”
Steamed Carrot’s face turned an even brighter shade of red as fast as a light switch. “B-b-but...here?! Now?!”
Coloratura leaned forward and gently took Steamed Carrot’s hoof in both of her own. “Steamed, I want you to take a deep breath and close your eyes,” she instructed.
Steamed hesitated, then slowly shut her eyes and took a deep breath in and out through her mouth.
“Now, forget that we’re here,” Coloratura whispered. “Pretend that you’re someplace else. Someplace that makes you happy.”
Steamed Carrot’s nose twitched as she smelled the mixing flavors of the cooked food and a smile crossed her face.
“Can you picture that place clearly?” Coloratura asked. Steamed Carrot nodded. “Now, take in a deep breath,” Coloratura continued. “And sing!”
Steamed Carrot inhaled deeply, filling up her lungs, and an aria began to flow from her voice.
“Vissi d’arte, vissi d’amore,
non feci mai male ad anima viva!”
The song soared out of Steamed Carrot and flowed through the room, every high note struck perfectly. She swayed back in forth in time with the song.
“Con zoccolo furtiva,
quante miserie conobbi aiutai.
Sempre con—”
Steamed was interrupted by Coloratura grasping both of her shoulders. The musician’s face shone as brightly as a star with delight.
“You’re hired!” Coloratura squealed. Pinkie let out a great cheer and started hopping up and down again.
“Now, girls,” Applejack interrupted Coloratura and Pinkie. “I’m not sure about taking on another—”
“Pleeeeease?” Rara and Pinkie both pleaded, holding up their hooves in supplication.
Applejack paused, then rolled her eyes with an acceding smile. “Oh, all right,” she sighed.
“Yay!” Pinkie cheered, leaping up into the air as confetti inexplicably exploded around her. She grasped Carrot’s hoof and shook it vigorously. “Congratulations!”
Steamed Carrot stared at her with an open-mouthed expression of surprise. “I...I’m hired?” Steamed Carrot asked. “Really?”
“Really,” Applejack nodded with a smile, patting her on the back. “Welcome to the crew, Steamed Carrot.”
An elated smile slowly stretched across Carrot’s face. “Thank you! Thank you!” she cried. She hugged Applejack, Pinkie, and Rara, then flung her forelegs over Daring and Phillip. Daring chuckled and patted her on the back, while Phillip desperately tried to wriggle out of her grasp.
“You’re gonna do great here, Steamed,” Daring said. “And remember, you can always call us if you need us.”
“Thank you so much!” Steamed said. “I won’t forget this!” And with that, she turned back to her new co-workers, all of whom were talking at once. Phillip and Daring silently took their leave, pushing back through the saloon doors and walking back across the tavern floor.
“Y’know, Phil,” Daring said as they exited the tavern. into the afternoon sunshine. “Once in a while, this job is pretty damn good.”
“Too right, Daring,” Phillip nodded with a small smile, breathing in the crisp pre-autumnal air. “Let’s go home, I’ve got an experiment waiting.”
He didn’t notice Daring’s growing smile until it was too late. The next thing he knew, the ground was soaring away from him at twenty miles an hour and his hat was almost flying off his head.
“Why in the bloody hell can’t we take the trolley?!” he shouted as Daring laughed uproariously.
“This can’t go on, Zugzwang.”
Charlie August Silvertongue stood in the black room with the red curtains and the great ticking clock, standing beneath his coat of arms. The unicorn with the black eyes stood next to him, sucking on a gold-leaf cigarette. The heady odor of Saddle Arabian tobacco hung heavy in the air.
In front of the two stallions was a projected image: Daring Do and Phillip Finder standing at a four-way intersection, walking up the street towards Grease Monkey’s Auto Shop, their heads tilted against the pouring rain.
“Monopoly invested much into the drug pipeline into the Everfree District, and Whitestone relied heavily upon Grease Monkey’s smuggling center,” Charlie continued staring at the image. “Both of them are going to be heavily displeased; Monopoly moreso, as I have no doubt that these upstarts are also the ones who have been stealing from his assets.” He lifted a glass from the table with his magic and washed down a large gulp of the Amontillado within.
“And what’s more, our operation was successfully infiltrated, and our members were killed.” He turned to face Zugzwang, his eyes blazing with passion like hot coals. “They killed ponies that worked for me, that served me. They brought war and violence to this city, when I promised them peace. That does not happen. Not in my city.”
Zugzwang stared at the image, showing no sign of any emotion. “Bitte, calm yourself,” he said in a placating tone, lifting his cigarette from his mouth in a golden aura. “This is not an impossible situation. But first, we must deal with these two. They are our largest threat...which means that they could also be our greatest allies.”
“How do you mean?” Charlie asked.
“Phillip,” Zugzwang replied, nodding to the image of the stallion. “He is an ardent supporter of justice, but is blind as to the effects of his actions. All he cares about is ensuring that the perpetrators are caught and justice is served, not as to who profits.”
"Yes, he is an honorable stallion, a rarity in this city," Silvertongue nodded. "As is Miss Do."
“The two are dangerous together, however,” Zugzwang continued. “It would be wise to prepare to divide and conquer, if necessary.”
Silvertongue frowned. “Lucky Dice. I had hoped not to pull that out, but it may be necessary to play that card now."
“That could work,” Zugzwang nodded. “Frau Do has shown an aversion to killing.”
“There are things that will need to be prepared,” Silvertongue nodded, finishing the rest of his drink. “Superb thinking, Zugzwang.” Taking his glass with him, he exited the room, leaving Zugzwang standing alone.
Zugzwang continued to stare at the projected image in silence for several seconds, his empty pupils focused on Phillip’s shimmering, semi-transparent face. He glided forward and raised a hoof, stroking the back of it across Phillip’s cheek.
“Liebling,” he breathed softly. “Darling.”
They had been some of the most powerful ponies in the neighborhood. Now the three surviving lieutenants of the Nightmare Moon Disciples looked like whipped dogs. They sat on one side of the long table, glancing nervously at the armed guards that surrounded them, watching as their hosts' hooves hovered over their holsters.
"Let me explain to you what's happening," said the pony who had called them to that meeting. They sat on the other side of the table, obscured by the shadows. Looking at them was difficult, owing to the bright lamp that hung from the ceiling, its light a shield for the pony's identity. "We are at war. Your side is losing. Your masters—Silvertongue, Monopoly, all those fat bastards who hold your leashes, cannot protect you from us. We found your leader. We killed your suppliers in the street. There is nowhere you can hide where we cannot find you.
"So right now, you have a choice." The pony gestured behind them, to an open crate. Inside, neatly stacked like firewood, were a dozen BARs, the wood polished and free of any damage, and the metal as pristine as the day it was shaped.
"You can join us. You will receive weapons, training, equipment, and better pay than Silvertongue promised you. Or..." The pony then gestured to their guards. The threatening clicks of hammers sounded in the three guests' ears.
"You can die." The pony in the shadows leaned forward. As they did so, a necklace around their neck swung into view. The jade fox hanging from it shone in the lamplight.
"What's it going to be?"
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So he's back... Knew ZugZwang would show up sooner or later. Also, love the title of the chapter, lovely song. Also, props to Flash getting to take down the big bad of this case. I sense a partnership in the near future...
Also:
Don't bother Phil, ground travel's never going to happen with you now that Daring's around.
8414994
Do you know opera? Or did you just look it up when you saw the chapter title?
8416813
Looked it up when I saw the title, I admit, but I did give it a listen.
Holy hell! That was really will written!
Three times i hace seen a inconsistency shifting tone was never killed
Gayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy.
Good on Flash for arresting Star there. That was rather satisfying.
"Also, I have been pepper sprayed myself. Believe that I do not exaggerate when I say that "agony" does not even begin to describe the experience."
As someone who has also gone through such an experience, I can confirm. Not fun. Not fun at all.
10564474
I got sprayed during correctional academy. When did you get sprayed?
Every Time any pony makes a comment about 'fat cats' or anything like that... I immediately assume the speaker is Starlight Glimmer. Huh.
So, other city? Maybe some actual family?
NO! The problem is that he didn't report Cluster immediately after the fight! Getting that beating was exactly what he needed to get the bastard off the force!
No backup! I despair.
the cop said to the other cop. At least everyone seems equally retarded.
No, it's identification.
FINALLY!
Wow that was a quick confession.
It was at this point I realized this wasn't Rarity.
If it seems like I have nothing but complaints, I guess that's just because those are easier to write than anything else. Everything I've read so far (many chapters ahead) I've still very much enjoyed. Well not everything, but every chapter so the general story and whatever I'm moving on to the next comment now.