8. Alicorn and Alibi
The Substitute Librarian
Alicorn and Alibi - Part Two
“That was probably the most fun I’ve had at an all-nighter, ever.” Emerald picked up the dustpan and dumped the last of the dirt into the paper trash bag while Dinky scurried to put the broom back into the kitchen where it belonged. Most of the children had already departed with the dawn as early-rising parents had come by, checked the building and the child for fire damage, then toted off their sleepy tot for whatever they had scheduled for the day. The children had been astonishingly helpful during the morning clean-up time, particularly when Emerald had wondered out loud if he needed to light a candle to help them see the trash that should be thrown away or the sweeping that needed to be done. All in all, a very productive evening, even if he had not managed to teach a single magic lesson to the unicorn students.
“The party was way different than I expected.” Derpy shook her hoof and considered the sleeping bag she had somehow tied to it while rolling up the extras. “The mayor normally does the story reading.”
“And puts everypony to sleep, I suppose. What fun would that be? Here, let me help with that.” Through judicious application of teeth and hooves, Emerald managed to free the awkward mailpony, although he had to roll the sleeping bag back up and tie it to prevent an encore bondage performance. “There! All the spare bags are ready for the mayor to pick up. Which reminds me.”
He scurried back to the librarian’s desk and began inking a note with quill firmly grasped between his teeth. It was the first writing he had done this evening, which made it an effort to maintain a cheerful attitude while writing the note. After all, his college studying backlog just kept growing back in Canterlot the longer he was here, enjoying himself. Plus, Twilight Sparkle was due back in the library soon, and he really wanted to be gone by then. One arrest was plenty.
“Good morning, Emerald!” The mayor poked her nose in the front door and looked around, perhaps expecting fire residue or explosive damage. “Oh, my. No problems overnight, I presume.”
“Nothing I was unable to handle with the assistance of the volunteers,” chirped Emerald once he had finished his short note. “Miss Doo, if you would take the trash out to the bins while Sparkler and Dinky carry the extra sleeping bags outside, I believe we can leave the library nearly as clean as we found it. And if you could please sign here, Madam Mayor?”
“I hope you’re not expecting a check,” said the mayor as she trotted over to the desk. She read the thank-you note without further comment, then selected a fresh quill out of the library patron cup and signed her name at the bottom. “Considerate of you,” she added after putting the dripping quill back.
“Twilight Sparkle deserves considerable thanks for letting us use her space, and you deserve the credit for how well it went,” stated Emerald while grabbing a tissue and wiping up the leftover drips of ink before they could stain the desk. “Now, come on. Time to go.”
“You don’t want to meet our local celebrity again, Mister Emerald?” The mayor cocked her head as Emerald finished shrugging into his dress coat, then shouldered his saddlebags. He took exceptional care to make sure all of his hoof-boots were snug, because the last thing he wanted to do was leave anything out of Sheeping Beauty that could lead back to him.
“No,” he stated plainly. “I never met her last time, and that’s fine. Come on, out you go.” With one last look around to make sure there were no stragglers left inside, Emerald ordered the lights off and closed the door to the tree, feeling the sharp bite of the locking spells as they secured the building behind him. At least this time, there was no chance of Twilight Sparkle coming to the mistaken conclusion that there was any kind of romantic intent in his visit. With luck, she would never even realize he had been here.
“I’m behind on my studies, so I’m headed for the train station, Madam Mayor. Unless you have anything else for me.”
“Well, I could use some help taking the sleeping bags back to be stored in the Town Hall,” mused the mayor.
“We can get that! Hey, Sparkler!” called out Dinky as she galloped out from behind the library tree where she had been putting the trash. “Come help!”
“Nopony should be this cheerful in the morning,” grumped Sparkler as she followed her sister in a slow trudge. With little effort, the three of them managed to get the lumpy bags organized and headed in the general direction of the Town Hall, leaving Emerald to give them a cheery wave and head out for his own departure via train.
“She’s still using her back instead of her magic,” mused Emerald with an over-the-shoulder glance at the happy foal bouncing along beside her sister, each carrying a sleeping bag. “Still, her magic is coming along nicely, like most of the rest of them. Not a bad day after al—”
The whistle of an airborne pony was something Emerald was used to in college, since pegasus students liked to swoop down on him and try to knock his hat off. They never actually hit him, like Derpy managed with a flurry of flailing limbs and an anguished “Oops!”
“Miss Doo,” managed Emerald when he had gotten turned right-side up and determined nothing was broken. And although the suit was showing the stress of the last day, and seriously needed some seams restitched, his hat was still where it needed to be, but scrunched a bit. “Did you have something you needed to speak with me about before I left?”
Well, that’s what he tried to say. He suspected what came out was slightly less coherent from his growing concussion.
“I was just…” started Derpy. “I thought… If you have time… I have a question,” she finished.
A few pieces of loose homework had slipped out of his saddlebag, but once they had gotten stuffed back in and the latch closed, Emerald took a look across town at the train station, and the relative lack of train within. “I suppose, if we talk while we walk. Are you wanting to discuss Dinky’s magical progress?”
“Oh. Well. No. Oops.”
Whatever the mailmare had tripped over on the path was too small to see, and Emerald picked himself up off the ground again, trying to keep in mind what the packet had said about Derpy not trying to be such a road hazard.
“I was watching her corona density when I was telling the story,” continued Emerald, walking a little further away this time. “All of the unicorn students flickered during the stressful parts, so she seems to be above average for her peer group. I can write you up a series of exercises for her to do at home, if you like. Wait. No?”
“I wanted to ask about the story you told,” started Derpy while nodding. “It was really, really good. Did you find it in a book?”
“No, I wish. I was just pulling… I mean making it up as I went.” Emerald scratched the back of his mane while walking, trying not to grimace. “I may have gone a little overboard at the end, what with the students screaming all over the library and Snails hiding under the kitchen table. But it certainly kept them out of Twilight Sparkle’s bedroom,” he finished with a chuckle.
“I admit I didn’t know anything about unicorn magic before,” said Derpy. “Raising two unicorns helped. They say it’s really, really difficult to do magic with anything resting on your horn. Or covering it,” she added. “So how did you make the ghost at the top of the stairs?”
“Ah…” Emerald hid a knowing smile. “That is something very, very special. A little trick I picked up from my family. Tell me, Miss Doo. Can you keep a secret?”
Golden eyes shifted to look in all directions around them, and twice as fast as Emerald could in similar circumstances. Derpy moved closer and whispered, “Yes.”
“Well, then.” Emerald lowered his voice too. “So can I.”
He resumed his brisk trot to his destination, although Derpy did not seem to get the humor of the remark as she trotted alongside, to the point where she actually looked irate. Or at least one of her eyes was glaring at him.
“Look, Miss Doo.” Emerald slowed to a walk, although he noticed other ponies out in this early hour of the morning were giving them both considerable space so there was no real collision risk. “It’s a joke. Do you really want to know why you saw an image on the top of the stairs?”
“Um… Yes. I think,” hedged the mailmare.
Giving a shrug to get his stuffed saddlebags properly situated, Emerald continued in his best lecturing voice, “It’s an optical effect. Everypony stared at the bright candle, then when they looked up the stairs, the bright spot stayed on their eyes for a few moments. That’s probably why some of them thought it was chasing them through the library,” he added.
Derpy shook her head, making her blonde mane fly in all directions. “I know that. I wanted to know how you made a glowing unicorn up there.”
Emerald stopped. “Glowing unicorn?” After a few moments thought, he cautiously added, “Perhaps one of the foals was—”
Derpy shook her head again. “I was watching. Even Sparkler. None of them had a glowing horn with a cordova.”
“Corona,” corrected Emerald. He shrugged off the shiver that went down his back and started walking in the direction of the train station again. “Probably just a figment of your imagination. I really had all of the students going, didn’t I? Nightmare Night is coming, so they might as well be ready.”
“I suppose.” Derpy fell in alongside again, nearly tripping him again in the process. “It could have been a spell to reflect your image, because it was a unicorn like you. Only without the hat. And all white, with a pale blue mane. It really looked like a ghost.”
Emerald stopped again. “All white, with a pale blue mane? Younger than me, perhaps?”
“Yes,” confirmed Derpy. “You’re really talented to be able to—”
“It’s Frost, my younger sister,” said Emerald, turning around to look for a trailing pony. “The little genius is in Celestia’s school. She could have followed me to town, snuck into the library without anypony seeing her, hid upstairs all night… and not left? No, that can’t be her. She loves being around other fillies her age. And she can’t keep from giggling when she’s trying to pull something off. It must have just been your imagination.”
“Is she as good at magic as you are?” asked Derpy. “Because she had to be really good to not be spotted.”
“No,” said Emerald firmly. “It wasn’t Frost. I wasn’t casting a spell. It was an afterimage from the candle and your imagination.”
“I don’t have much of an imagination,” said Derpy slower than before. “And I was only watching the candle with one eye, since I can’t even do that right. So you had to be using a spell,” she finished with a sharp nod that spilled mane down over her eyes. “It was very special. Can you teach it to Sparkler sometime?”
“No!” Emerald stopped and took a shallow breath. The train station was fairly close, and still no train, so unless he did something, Derpy was going to continue pestering him. Of all the unicorn families (of a fashion) in Ponyville, she was most likely to be accepting of his ‘disability’ unlike Missus Bradel, for example. Besides, when he graduated at the end of next semester and went out to do his student teaching, he was going to have to face this kind of cognitive dissonance over a non-unicorn teaching unicorn magic anyway, so it would be good practice.
“Miss Doo. Can you keep a secret? And I mean it this time. Not just a secret from everypony else, a secret from Dinky and Sparkler too?”
That seemed to set the mailpony back a step. “Is it a bad secret?”
“No. Well, some stuck-up unicorns in Canterlot think it’s a bad secret, which is why I don’t tell them,” hedged Emerald. “I don’t think it’s a bad secret. It’s just that unicorn parents want their children taught unicorn magic by the best unicorn teacher available. I think the results are more important.”
“You’re a good magic teacher,” said Derpy, although drooping a little. “A lot better than me. Dinky has been so happy since your last visit, jumping around and making tooting noises with her horn. Before, she had trouble even getting it to spark, and I didn’t know what to do.”
“If everypony knew what to do,” countered Emerald, “you wouldn’t need teachers, and I’d be out picking apples somewhere. Teaching talented children like yours is the greatest blessing I could ever receive, and not just because I’m a lousy apple-picker. Teaching requires absolute trust between the teacher and the parent.” He lowered his head to look Derpy right in the eyes, or at least close. “Do you trust me to teach your child?”
“Well…” Neither golden eye looked at him, and her voice choked up. Reading wings was one thing Emerald had learned well from his father’s business connections, and if Derpy’s wings had been any more tense, they could not have been pried away from her flanks with a crowbar. “It’s hard to trust unicorns,” she admitted reluctantly through her teeth.
“I know how that is at times,” said Emerald with a nod and a short glance around to make sure there were no snooping nearby ponies. “Sometimes, unicorns can be terribly cruel without meaning to be. I’m in a unicorn fraternity at college, and wealthy stallions are not the kindest creatures in the first place. Even my siblings sometimes did not know how much they hurt me. Were you… hurt by a unicorn?”
“After what he did… I mean I thought he… abandoned me,” she finished in a short burst of quiet words that struggled to make it through clenched jaws. After a few short breaths she added, “Abandoned us. I think about him every time Dinky… And then Sparkler needed us too, and I brought her in. Sometimes, it’s so hard to keep from hating him. I see his face in every unicorn. Every sneer when I misplace a piece of mail. Every time they shout at me for breaking something. Every day I expect him to walk around the corner and take my Dinky away from me because I’m such a terrible parent.”
“That would not end well,” said Emerald. “For him. I’ve seen the way you love your daughters, adopted and natural. I suspect the face you keep seeing would be missing a lot of teeth afterward. Maybe with a flattened nose, and two black eyes.”
The relaxation that swept across Derpy was a welcome relief for Emerald too, and her subdued giggle made him go on further. “Did I tell you that when I was a foal, somepony tried snatching me from a park in Canterlot once? My own dear, sweet, formal mother, the overcivilized unicorn who refused to go out in public with a chipped hoof or unbrushed mane, who insisted that I wear a jacket whenever there was the least little breeze, she grabbed him by the tail, and… Well, it was educational, and for weeks, I insisted I was going to become a professional wrestler, but that’s not important right now.”
Taking a deep breath, he continued with no small hesitation. “I made up the librarian ghost story. I’ve always been good at making up stories. I once had a report in college with thirty-five pony tribe myths, from the Sasquash to Cloud Fleas, and found out at the last minute I was short a few pages, so I just made one up and threw it in. The teacher was a unicorn, the myth I made up was an earth pony story, so he didn’t care and I still got full marks. There was no ghost in the library.”
“Of course not,” said Derpy, which gave him a moment of relief until she added, “You were casting a spell. So can you teach it to Dinky?”
“I was not—” Taking a deep breath, Emerald spoke in short words. “Ma’am, it appears there is only one way I can convince you I was not casting a unicorn spell.”
With a little extra effort to overcome the stictation spell he had on all his hats, he lifted his formal top hat, gave her a short bow, and put it back on.
“Oh,” said Derpy.
Since Emerald had determined the mailmare was not stupid, just slow, he stood there and waited for the mental gears to finish grinding and the little flag to pop up.
“When did you lose your—”
Admittedly, the little flag popped up in an unexpected spot. “I never had a horn.”
“So…” After another long pause, Derpy leaned over and peeked at his sides.
“Or wings,” added Emerald.
“Oh,” added Derpy again. Then after a period of more thought, “Oh!”
“So…” started Emerald, “do you still want me as Dinky’s unicorn magic teacher whenever I’m in town? Which I’ll admit isn’t on a regular basis, but if my student teaching curriculum gets approved, I’ll have Ponyville as one of my regular stops next year. If you want me.”
Derpy nodded vigorously, paused to toss the mane out of her eyes, then nodded again. “Why wouldn’t I want you to teach my daughter? You’re a great teacher. You’re funny, and smart, and tell wonderful stories that teach lessons, like not to abuse books. I’ll see you when you return and see if you can teach her some more. She likes learning as much as I am!”
“Do,” corrected Emerald.
“And you call me Miss Doo instead of Derpy,” she bubbled. “You’re such a sweet stallion.”
Derpy leaned in close, kissed him on the cheek, and tripped. Thankfully, he was ready for that portion, and caught the pegasus before the two of them wound up in the dirt. “Whoops,” she added. “I better get to work. The letters won’t deliver themselves, you know. Because if they did, I wouldn’t have a job.”
“A tragedy indeed,” said Emerald. “Thank you for your trust, Miss Doo. Hopefully, we will run into each other again soon.”
“I like flying into you,” she said with a giggle as she ascended up into the cloud-dotted morning sky. “And I won’t tell anypony about the secret ghost in the library.”
“But…” By the time Emerald could say anything, the mailmare was far out of shouting range, leaving him to make the short trip to the empty train station by himself.
“I hope she’s not going sweet on me,” he murmured to himself after buying a ticket and sitting down on an empty bench. “I’m not sure if ‘likes flying into you’ is a warning sign for pegasus dating.”
Derpy was a premade family, after all. Cute single mother, unicorn children, guaranteed to drive his father into the third heart attack that would be his end… Well, maybe not that tempting of a dating prospect to consider while wasting his time waiting on the train.
The pegasus who ran the device repairshop would be more of a practical prospect. There was just something attractive about a mare who had a few dabs of grease on her face and a sincere need for being brushed. Something familiar, in fact. Dad would flip over having a pony in the family with an equiportant diagram on her flank, but he could not remember for the life of him ever meeting a pegasus so Marked. Maybe a few minutes back at the frat with a copy of Twerp’s Peerage would shed some light on her identity.
Of course, if he were feeling particularly suicidal, he could expand his matrimonial search to some of Twilight Sparkle’s friends. The photographs in the newspapers had shown one to be a fashionable unicorn, pretty enough to meet his parents qualifications… No, make that pretty enough to meet his qualifications. His parents had attempted to pair him with some real peaches recently. Rarity seemed to be a perfect bit of pretty side-candy, enough to make the other stallions stare… and probably as shrill as a saw with the personality of a mink. It seemed to go naturally with pins and measuring tapes, after all.
The idea of the fashonista’s perfect white coat next to his own dismal green hide only hammered the depression in deeper, and triggered some curiosity about last evening’s overnight stay in the library. It was entirely too easy to dismiss the goofy pegasus mare as somepony with a head that rattled when shaken, and who saw ghosts in mirror reflections. The only thing was, Emerald had firm memories of his foalhood where bigger ponies refused to even consider the strange things he had seen, so he had sworn never to blow off anypony else’s odd perceptions. Even odd perceptions from eyes that did not want to focus on the same thing.
It was troubling enough to keep him from working on his homework during the cheerful morning train ride back up the mountain. The sun felt cold against his thick green coat, unable to penetrate below a few hairs, while the normal thinner air of his childhood home left him strangely lethargic.
There was a possibility that Derpy saw somepony in the library other than his younger sister, although that was quite impossible. His family had always been protective of their goofy earth pony sibling, even if his parents never harped about their sacrifices for his good. They suffered in silence, in a way that each child knew darned good and well meant the same thing, only stretching back through the generations long past away to dust and decay. It was an unspoken responsibility given to each child from their parents, and expected to be given to their child in return, and then another, growing heavier with each transfer until he felt the entire mountain on his shoulders.
There were more than enough photos of Emerald’s birth and first year of life back in his parents’ albums, and he understood perfectly why. As a newborn, he had been a spindly-legged, hollow-eyed shadow of health, only regaining his normal weight and activity after his younger sister was born. There had been such a thin thread tying him to the world of the living for so long, and if he had died, the only thing his parents would have to remember him would have been some pictures and a few ashes behind a brass door in the family crypts.
He really should have headed straight for the fraternity when the train arrived in Canterlot. There was no reason to turn down the sun-dappled street to the inner section of the town, moving slower than his usual rapid trot to get from class to class. If he had encountered anypony he knew, he would have turned away, but his path remained unobstructed. Once he passed beneath the decorative wrought-iron barbican that signaled the division between the living of the city and the dead, it was too late to turn back anyway.
Slowing his steps again, Emerald strolled between rows of flowers and ornate bushes, each kept in pristine condition by the aged caretakers of the quiet place. Technically it was a necropolis, the largest one in all of Equestria, with cremated remains of thousands tucked into flowered nitches and hedged turns among the winding paths. More colloquially, it was called The Gardens, no more, no less, and Emerald walked past each bloom and leaf without the slightest urge to take a nibble, no matter how hungry he was.
In due time, he passed over the inscribed symbol of his House, a chrysanthemum in full bloom worked delicately into the cobblestoned path. To one side there were small brass doors with familiar names, great uncles and grandparents who rested at nose-height to the little colt he was during their funerals. Such a small space for deceased ancestors, all blissfully quiet compared to the squabbling chaos of any meeting between them when they were alive.
The small doors remained unmarked beyond a certain point due to innate frugality. After all, his older sister was in Baltimare pursuing a career, and if she pursued a stallion to a successful family life of her own, there would be no reason to reserve a space for her inevitable passing when she would most probably be buried with her spouse. Likewise his eldest brother and his new spouse would pass into a noble family’s embrace several flower-decorated paths from here.
There were three notable exceptions. His parents, of course, who Emerald suspected of having inscribed their doors back when his father had his first minor heart attack. Then a small door below theirs, inscribed with his own name that must have been purchased soon after he was born.
That was as far as Emerald had ever looked before. It had always given him a warm feeling to know that wherever he would pass after death, be it the Heavenly Pastures, the Great Nest, the most probable Shadowlands, or whatever else happened, he would be surrounded and protected by his family just the same as they had protected him during his life. Now when he was standing there all by himself in the cool morning sunlight, he could not shake the warm protected feeling of being with his family.
Frost had always been a ball of happy white fur, who bounced more than she walked. Mother occasionally said she had the energy of two ponies, but always turned away afterward, and withdrew emotionally. Emerald, being the nosy child he was and filled with curiosity, had nosed his way into the family keepsakes of their birth and had come across a letter from around that date in which the word ‘twins’ had been used.
Curious he may have been, but mixed with a great deal of caution. Curious noses frequently got burned. It was enough to know that his mother had been pregnant with two foals and only one survived, but ever since then he had wondered just what having a second little sister would have been like. Or even a little unicorn brother to cuddle, teach about his magic, and defend against the dangers of the world.
There were a few tufts of scrubby grass obscuring the very bottom doors, which Emerald brushed aside while crouching down to read. As expected, the doors were all blank except one.
He remained there with his chest pressed against the sun-warmed cobblestones, his nose against the dirt, and his mind slowly wrapping around a concept that he quietly moved from Impossible to Unlikely.
After a time, the Sun on his shoulders warmed. Birdsong began to echo among the fragrant blossoms, the unthinking happy residents of this place making the best of their last few warm days before winter’s snow. Life went on, throughout Equestria and the city. It was the rhythm of hope, the promise that made ponies keep going when everything had turned to horseapples, and a gift that Emerald carried in his own heart so that he could give it to others, particularly the most vulnerable and innocent.
After all, he had been given that same precious gift in his youthful infirmity. His parents, his siblings, his family had never given up on that fragile child he could still see reflected in the mirror whenever he thought about it too much. The realization filled him with a sense of completion, of purpose, and an awareness of how much studying he needed to do today. He stood back up, brushed the loose soil off his damaged suit, and turned his brisk steps in the direction of the fraternity house. He was a son of House Chrysanthemum, and there was much left to do before he could rest.
Behind him, the bent grass slowly straightened to cover the tiny brass door.
Winter
Beloved Son
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Inspired partially by Estee’s While Their Names still Spoken - Words Never Said
I never named the other twin from So The Other May Live. I think Winter would be a good choice.
Why do chapters 7 and 8 have the same title?
9922838 Silly. One has a Seven in front of it, and one has an Eight. They're completely different things.
This was quite cute, and heartwarming.
*checks for Romance tag*
Dang...
9922856
They also have different word counts.
I think she's going to be a bit late.
The reach of Harmony is very long.
For where else among the busy living but a library,
Can be found, the sound of silence.
9922933 and 80% different words. (20% post-consumer word content included for Green recycling purposes)
9922949 Naa, she's not going to be late, like the Traveling Tutor series.
9922916 Give him time.
As opposed to the classic dragon fable Cinderella, where the prince eats the abandoned slipper?
It's when she starts aiming for you that you really need to worry.
In my experience, those are the eyes you should trust the most. They are focusing. Just not in the usual set of dimensions.
Brilliant bit of the paranormal. Remove the surety that ghosts don't exist and you'd be amazed what you can spot. And some of them might really be there!
9922965
Go nuclear or go home.
I still say he should let the Tree have her way and help him polinize the librarian. They're bound to be cute together.
Although miss Doo is a close second on that front. Even Rarity would likely surprise him in no small measure.
9923252 I'm sorry. I'll quit.
9923210 Dirty minded tree.
9923102 Did that in Tutor where he was mistakenly identified as Celestia's 'Consort'
9922993 Derpy is one of those mares who will be the death of you. Eventually.
OK where is Celestia thanking Emerald for his service in Ponyville or did he really put one over on her.
9923350 Allow the young stallion his temporary delusions.
9923354 NO who knows what silly thing he might try next time otherwise
I'm enjoying this drip-feed of Georg-Estee fiction quite a bit. So The Other May Live still squicks me in so many ways, though.
If this was set the night of the first Gala in the Triptych ‘verse, Emerald didn’t need to worry too much about Twilight’s return... as I recall, the Mane Six all ended up getting detained when the guard caught up to them with various complaints at Donut Joe’s after Celestia had unknowingly returned to the castle. And then Rainbow Dash decided to resist arrest...
The interaction between Ms. Doo and Emerald is really sweet, and the appearance of the brother who was sacrificed was an intriguing and properly spooky touch. I wait to see if Emerald will learn just what was done so that his own health may be secured, and whether the story will continue long enough for him to learn the truth about “Doctor” Gentle.
Wow...
*appreciative clapping*
Very nice. :)
9923414 It's *supposed* to disturb you. It is written closer to Estee's style than my normal stories, after all.
9923521 The M6 in Estee's world need a get-out-of-jail-half-price card, although I think the best arrest is when they get tossed into jail for impersonating themselves.
You mean whether he will *survive* long enough to learn the truth about Dr. Gentle.
Quite touching at the end.
A little surprised in Mayor Mare. I figured part of why she babysat the town's kids for the night was to reap the gratitude of grateful
votersparents when they are picked up in the morning.9922993 Ah yes, Cinder-ella and the molten glass slippers.
Sweet and just the slightest bit spooky.
And Emerald City just keeps running into nice mares that would drive his parents absolutely bonkers.
9927002
Except the Estee version of Mayor Mare doesn't even want the job anymore, she just keeps it out of a sense of responsibility and because no one else wants it either.
9924646
My optimistic side is believing that this fragment was an excerpt from the upcoming Chapter 17 of The Substitute and that Georg has already written it and the intervening ones, thus the story will keep rolling on very soon so that we are not left in suspense...
My realistic side says "Georg is a busy writer who said this story was an extended, possibly-ongoing, one-off story so don't get yer hopes up, ya drongo!"... *sigh* my realistic side always seems to have a bit of an attitude towards my optimistic one.
I have enjoyed this so far and it may be enough of an impetus to take the plunge and read Estee's most well known work... I had read "While Their Name's Still Spoken" a while ago and a few other more recent Tryptich side story ones but still, the word from others on the main story still has me hesitating...
9916523
Could be worse. I seem to recall a certain line regarding smoking in the Library, to wit:
10002108 The one I saw was: if you are smoking, we will presume you are on fire and take appropriate measures.
10148955
If I may combine my quotes, a habit not dissimilar to mixing metaphors, smoking in the library is akin to “standing on a hilltop in a thunderstorm wearing wet copper armour and shouting 'All gods are bastards'.”