I checked the griffons’ bedroom—just Girard, playing charades with me over a sore throat.
I checked the library—just the familiar hiss.
I checked the kitchen—just Grid, deafening himself on a portable music player while waiting on water to boil.
I checked the foyer—no one.
She certainly had a way of lying low when she wanted to, that bird. The changeling could take lessons.
Against all reason, something in my gut told me to check the library again. Old mares’ tales would have it that earth ponies like myself had these uncanny hunches from time to time. I rarely bought into such superstitions, but I had to admit, this one had never done me wrong.
And neither did it disappoint today—there I found Gloria, right outside the library.
She was carrying herself at a bounding pace down the corridor, but upon seeing me, stopped in her tracks to give me a lively, full-bodied curtsy. “Detective,” she greeted. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Interesting. Could she have guessed that I was not merely passing by? Did she see it in my eyes that I sought to confront her? “Do you have a minute, Gloria?”
“Oh why yes, of course.”
“But I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” I fished. “Am I?”
“Nothing important, simply some reading. A diplomat’s studies are never-ending!” she exclaimed. “… Oh dear, am I making a broken record of myself?”
“Reading?” I said. “In the library, I take it?”
She nodded buoyantly. “It is truly the best place to study in peace!”
“Fascinating.”
Truly fascinating. Once again, the changeling could take lessons.
Gloria’s cheerfulness faltered, once she seemed to realize. “Oh, hm, but if you happened to be looking for me but a moment ago, I did step out for a brief spell in order to—”
“Let me guess, use the restroom? Grab a snack? Or maybe just take a breather?” I said. “Actually, don’t bother. One excuse is as good as any other. No matter which you choose, I still wouldn’t believe you. And anyway, it’s not what I’m here for.”
“Hmph, well then,” she pouted, disdain creeping into her voice. It was hard to tell if this was a genuine display, or still part of an act. “You should get to the point, Detective, so that I can remedy whatever misunderstandings you may have about me, and we can return to a more polite discourse.”
With pleasure. “Explain the book, Gloria.”
She gave a picture-perfect shrug. “I don’t follow.”
“You’d do best to stop burying yourself,” I warned. “I can give you a minute to come up with a believable explanation, if you need.”
“I’m afraid you’re setting yourself up to have quite the egg on your face, Detective, because I truly haven’t the foggiest notion what you’re talking about.” She shook her head. “This is unfortunate. You’re an officer of the peace, and I’m an aspiring peacemaker. My instincts tell me we should be working with each other, and not against. May we discuss this more constructively? I remember you asking me something feverish about a book just before the changeling attacked—does this have to do with that? If you might explain what exactly you—”
I took a menacing step forward, loudly and closely enough to make her retreat a step of her own. “I’m not kidding around, Gloria.”
It was shameful, to a degree, that I was pulling out all the stops for the interrogation of a girl half my age. But when it came to her, I sensed that nothing less would suffice.
“Don’t get me wrong, you hid that book well,” I continued. “So well in fact that I never found it, and probably never will. But, I did get ahold of a copy of it.”
I glared at her. For the very first time, I could tell I was making progress, because for the very first time, she didn’t have anything to say.
“In the end, I think you just got unlucky. It wasn’t a mistake you could’ve predicted. As far as spur-of-the-moment plans go, yours was almost flawless… But do you know what the key word is there?”
Her silence was music to my ears.
Her jaw clenched tightly as I continued, “You just couldn’t have known that the Vivant family organizes the books on their shelves according to the Farrier Classification Schema. You couldn’t have known that the Farrier numbers of the books directly to the left and to the right of the one you removed left only a single-number gap between them, and so uniquely identified the missing book. And you couldn’t have known that I would be so paranoid as to phone a librarian in Canterlot to look up and magically transcribe a full copy of that book and have it sent here by dragonfire-imbued parchment.”
I reached into my trench coat to pull out a thick sheaf of dark, weathered pages. I proudly aligned their edges against the cannon of my other hoof.
“Like I said, I can give you a minute to come up with a believable explanation.”
Gloria chuffed, and had a false start to speak before closing her beak once more. She paused, then chuffed again while repeating her picture-perfect shrug. “I don’t see why a future dignitary would need any explanation to possess a book of royal seals. It will be quite essential to my job one day, you should know.”
A book of royal seals, huh? My plan was bearing fruit.
In reality, the Vivant family library wasn’t organized in any consistent manner that would’ve allowed me to uniquely identify a missing book. And in reality, it would’ve been prohibitively expensive to transcribe and mail an entire book via dragonfire-imbued parchment on less than twenty-four hours’ notice. Indeed, the parchment I currently straightened against my hoof was simply a prop to the interrogation; more specifically, it was a ream of blank paper on loan from Blanche’s personal stock.
But I hadn’t gotten away with it yet, because I still didn’t know the full story. I was in the midst of the most difficult part of my ploy—I had to bluff that I already knew the answer to a mystery I was still ignorant of.
“I have to admit,” I countered, “that was the first thing that crossed my mind when I first learned the title over the phone: Why would she think she had to hide this? I asked the librarian if she hadn’t made a mistake looking it up, but she was sure. You know, that book probably would’ve flown right under my radar if you had just been an honest creature about it in the first place!”
Gloria stared at me in scornful analysis. It was clear I had her on the defensive, but above all I needed to induce her to preempt me with a defense of her actions, and quickly.
“So once my copy arrived, I read its contents closely, and I put the two-and-two together.” I paced around her like a shark circling its prey. “Now I understand exactly why you thought you had to hide it. I’m not an idiot, Gloria, and I recommend you stop treating me like one.”
Her beak opened a sliver at this latest slight, and I could tell she wanted to lash out with an immediate rejoinder. But she caught herself, and seemed to slip back into her cold, calculating silence. It wasn’t a good sign—I needed her to think with her amygdala, not her cerebrum.
Time was of the essence. Every second that passed could only make my vague accusations stand out all the more for their lack of details. So I took a calculated risk, and thrusted at what I could merely hope was a weak point:
“It all makes sense to me now, why you treat your cousin the way you do—that is, if he even is your cousin.”
The payoff arrived. The last remaining layers of a prim and proper princess all but melted off of the bird as the corners of her beak curled up into a sneer. She held a claw up to her face, but too little and too late to conceal a downright insidious expression.
She loosed a chuckle, shaking her head from side to side.
“Pesco, you are indeed no idiot,” she spoke up, “but for as much as you’ve gotten right, you’ve gotten just as much entirely, utterly, pathetically wrong.”
“Enlighten me.”
“Apparently, you know enough to recognize that it would be inappropriate for me as a diplomat to be studying a craftsmare’s manual on official seals. You know that in my career I myself would never be expected to know the painstakingly exact technical specifications of this or that authority’s wax stamps or watermarks. No, that’s the skillset for a very certain kind of bureaucrat… or forger, perhaps. I’m not ashamed to say it.
“And that’s because despite that big brain of yours, despite your years as a civil servant, it’s clear you know nothing about the way the world really works these days.
“It’s clear you know nothing about the circumstances I and my cousin grew up in.
“And above all…
“It’s clear you know nothing about the inflamed, hemorrhoidal pain in the ass it is to save my cousin from his own constant stream of fuck-ups.”
I stopped my circling. Perhaps my mouth hung open as I stood there, simply staring at her. I had to admit, it was the first time I had witnessed a suspect take command of a conversation mere seconds after an admission of guilt.
“Apologies for the language,” she continued. Her refined speech had returned, but something vile still lingered. “It was unbecoming of me, though it was an intentional breach of etiquette—I needed you to understand the gravity of my frustrations here, if I have no choice but to tell you the truth.”
“I’m just glad we’re finally meeting the real Gloria,” I said. “But why don’t you start from the beginning, just so I can be sure who exactly that is.”
“I’m afraid you may not like the real me any more than the fake me, but I’ll introduce you all the same.”
She cleared her throat, and clutched at the pendant of her necklace as she launched into oratory:
“Kralle-Karom, the place I call my happy home, is in truth a bleak and desolate place. Neighbors will let neighbors starve in times of famine, and the very earth itself seems to reject us. Whether royal or peasant, in that godforsaken land one learns very quickly the difference between the ideal and the real.
“King Grayson—their ruler, my father—is not a good griffon. He and the rest of our family usurped power after a civil war, shortly before I was born. And haven’t you heard? Apples don’t fall far from the tree. Our whole family is irredeemable. Girard and I grew up together, and we watched one by one as our siblings and our cousins all fell victim to the trappings of ill-obtained opulence. They lost any sense of compassion for their fellow griff. Their moral fibers putrefied from the inside out like rotting fruit, and soon we were the only ones left disgusted by the smell.”
I considered very carefully how much of this I believed.
“And truly,” she continued, “there is more than a resemblance between my castle and this very villa. Both are a waste of the world’s limited resources, as I see it. I’m sure it’s not lost on you, Detective, that you could work for a hundred lifetimes and never afford the decadent lifestyle these kids are addicted to.
“That said, I’m not blameless in this. For a time, I let my father control me. I let him dictate what I could and could not do. I let him decide who were my friends, and who were my enemies. I was given my script, and I read my lines well. Even if I hated my father and had my own visions for change once he was in the grave, it began to feel like less and less of an act I had to put on for him. I grew bolder with my priorities, and I grew short with griffs who I perceived to be useless to me.
“In other words, I grew short with griffs like Girard. It was at that point I realized that I was putrefying, and that I needed to leave sooner rather than later.”
“But you couldn’t bear to part with your beloved ‘hemorrhoid’ of a cousin, apparently,” I tested.
She tipped her claw. “I’m glad to see you’re listening closely,” she said. “The thing with putrefaction is there’s really no reversing it. I can recognize that Girard is a purer soul than me. Don’t you? But it would be villainous of me to abandon him, because it would mean his undoing—like I said, decadence is an addiction, and in his state, I don’t think he would survive withdrawal. Still, his good intentions don’t make his… screw-ups… any more sufferable to someone like me.”
“Yeah, and wouldn't you know something about screwing up?” I spat. “What has he ever done wrong?”
I didn’t know what to make of it, that it felt like she was insulting my family rather than her own. I'd had a single conversation with Girard, and I was incensed on his behalf. Ask anyone: I was only ever incensed on my own behalf.
“What hasn’t he, really. You’ve met him. He can’t survive on his own, and actively contributes to his own failings.” She glared at me. “Like saying imbecilic things in front of the police. I only care because it makes things harder for him, and by extension, me. I’m sure you don’t care to waste resources investigating the innocent, either.”
“Let us worry about such things, Your Majesty,” I assured her, maximally sardonic. “All I can say is, if your idea of an insufferable screw-up is needing some extra tutoring at school and being overly honest, I think you really have putre—”
Gloria burst out laughing, in a much more genuine gesture than her earlier chuckling. “Oh, your juxtaposition slays me, Detective,” she said. “He clearly hasn’t been very honest if, according to him, all the help he’s gotten from me on the academic side is some extra tutoring.”
I tried not to let her irk me. I thought back to her admission about the forgery. “So what you’re saying is, it goes behind helping him with his homework, or even doing it all yourself. I’d say either bribery or cooking the books, if I had to guess based on your character.”
“Correct, but more the latter than the former. Money is the epoxy that keeps every beak and muzzle shut, but I prefer to be more discreet in my approach.”
I’d had just about enough of her teenage philosophy. “And what makes you think I’ll be discreet about all this?”
“So this is my reward for finally being honest, huh?” She shrugged. “I’m not really surprised. Although if your angle was only to acquire ammunition against me to use after your current assignment of, you know, outing the changeling among us, I would’ve at least expected you to wait longer before calling your shot.”
I retired my blank papers back into my trench coat. I have my ways of getting the ammo when I need it. “I can work on two cases at once,” I told her. “If you cooperate with me on this one, maybe I could could take it easier on you in the one yet to come.”
“Oh? Quid pro quo? Somehow I don’t think your clawshakes under the table are worth very much, Detective,” she said. “But as long as our cats are out of the bag, I’m fine answering any innocent questions you might have.”
“That’s fine. One innocent question is all I have.” For now, anyway. “Let’s just say I get similar vibes from you and the changeling. A remorseless commitment to your plans, and deception that’s nested several layers thick.”
“So I’m your prime suspect.” She tutted under her breath. “I suppose that’s just what they call a bad hunch.”
“That’s not what I meant. Given your presence during the changeling attack, you’re actually at the very bottom of my list of suspects, if you’re on it at all.” Funny how that worked out. “And given your testimony regarding Girard at the time Blanche discovered the wing fragment, it’s only natural to remove any suspicion from your cousin, as well.” Even funnier. “I would only like to ask your opinion, as someone whose spirit animal is probably a changeling—who do you think the bug is?”
“Ah, is that all? I’m flattered you would ask,” she said. “Easy: Grid. And if not Grid, then Zorn. In fact, I’ve been wondering why you haven’t simply stuck Grid with the syringe, and moved to arrest Zorn if there was no result.”
“Bold suggestions,” I commented. “It sounds like you’ve thought this over.”
“I have, actually. Have you? Just narrow down the already small suspect pool with logic. We’ve agreed it’s not me or my cousin, yes? That leaves four. Blanche wouldn’t call the police on herself if she were the changeling. Down to three. Bon is Blanche’s twin brother, which would be a strong enough alibi even if it weren’t for all his pretentious little party tricks that I don’t think anyone else in Equestria—or the changeling Hive—could faithfully replicate. Thus, the two.
“And really, if you haven’t been suspecting them already, I would have to question your career competencies. I’ve already spoken my piece about Grid in the kitchen. But Zorn… you are aware just how badly he may be playing you, right?”
The serum, she must have been hinting at. Zorn actually was near the bottom of my list, but I had to admit, I’d yet to fully trust his gift to me. “Let’s say I’m unaware.”
“I couldn’t believe it when I heard he gave you this ‘magic-suppressant.’ Very convenient silver bullet, don’t you think? I believed it even less when he was the one found outside after the attack, and he proceeded to specifically request that you jab him.”
“So you think that was all an act? Because you think it’s not actually a magic-suppressant he gave me?”
“Yes, I think that’s most likely. As for how he could have faked those tests, why Bon and Blanche couldn’t levitate it, it’s obvious that…”
She had strutted so confidently into her latest sentence, but stumbled in completing it. She bit her cheek for a moment, as if struggling to recall.
“… Well, obviously he faked them, right? Somehow. Doesn’t matter how.” Another picture-perfect shrug. It was clear she practiced these gestures. “But let’s even assume I’m wrong. Zorn is enough of a weirdo that maybe all his actions thus far are just par for his course. We’ll just take him at his word that the serum is authentic, and inject Grid with it. If it reveals the changeling, then hurray! If it has no effect, then it either means Grid isn’t the changeling, or Zorn was lying about the serum. In either case, a perfectly good reason to assume Zorn is the impostor.”
She seemed to be anticipating my reaction. I chose to keep her waiting.
“So, let’s just stick Grid. It’s case closed either way. Don’t you agree, Detective?”
It was, in my professional opinion, the purest example of moon logic—an argument that made sense on its face, but which came from no earthly place. But that was fine; if nothing else, her opinions told me a lot about herself. I flapped my trench coat and said, “You really don’t consider a single person here to be your friend, do you, Gloria?”
Her eyes beaded up in frustration. “I think I’ve had about enough abuse for one night,” she said. “If you intend to investigate me after this is all over, that’s your right. But until then, I heartily advise you to focus on—”
She stopped mid-tirade. She looked down at my hooves with a curious expression.
“Oh, Detective? What is that?”
I broke eye contact with her for the first time since the conversation had started, and scanned the area where I was standing. There was what looked to be a square of paper lying on the ground, ripped at the edges and small enough to fit into an envelope without folding.
I could tell it wasn’t from any of the papers I had used to dupe Gloria—this one had writing on it. And I knew it wasn’t from Gloria—this time, I had made sure to keep my eyes on her for any funny business. It must have simply fallen out of my back pocket; how it had gotten there was the real mystery.
I picked it up and held it close to my chest as I read it…
It was an anonymous note. Or rather, as it claimed to be, a note from the changeling themself.
What was written was not important.
I tried just as quickly to forget the words I’d read.
It was a coherent sentence with something to say, but one that I knew to ignore. I was a professional, after all, and my instincts were never—
“What’s that scribbled out on the back!?”
Following Gloria’s prompt, I turned the letter over. On the back was some sort of message, crossed out to the point of soaking the paper through with the ink. I held it at an angle against the light and squinted my eyes, trying to read the rescinded text… a couple letters could be made out, and nothing more.
But I was a professional. I already had my means in mind.
“I appreciate your time, Gloria. I’ll find you again, if and when I need to.”
Celestia knew it wouldn’t be when I wanted to.
You can't just- You cannot possibly- That's evil. You're evil.
oh, and- I've been wondering how old Scolus was in these earlier passages. I mean these are teens, right? why would scolus... go there, and mingle with a bunch of teenagers? how would that play out? why would he choose to do that? i guess it's not completely impossible, but... considering he seemed like he actually did something in these earlier passages to earn his royal jelly, I feel like he'd be somewhat older than them, right? a few years at least, maybe almost twice as old.
so right now my running head theory is that one of the detectives is scolus, and that's why they're both quick to go for the theory that the ling might not be hostile at all. before they present it, we don't actually get... any insight about how they personally feel about changelings, but they're still both quick to consider them at least redeemable. it's... a stretch, i'm sure- most of it is based on the fact that some details would make sense because of it, but all of them could be for a different reason still.
they were called to the manor on an emergency, during a vacation- it could be because they would be theoretically good at firguring out a ling due to one of them being one, and the other working under one- but they could just Have Been The Only Ones Nearby.
So, uh, yeah. I want to believe REALLY hard that Scolus is among the detectives- Specifically, I want to believe REALLY hard, because I think it makes the most sense, that Pesco is Scolus. But that requires another royally-jellied changeling to be among the teenagers, and I don't yet see a way for that to have happened. can't wait for the next chapter where we find out the mystery note note is signed in scolus' name and my failing "theory" gets Obliterated
oh and while we're here... that previous theory of pesco about how a rogue would fall from grace and induce a plan in which they could get back into the hive... that could be scolus' plan! which. i don't think he would do? but we don't know what happens to him next, so... we'll see.
anyways, that was a great chapter! i fucking love gloria, she's great and she's disgusting and aaaaaa
Okay, so what if...
Girard is Scolus in exile. Gloria is the other changeling in those flashbacks sent to keep him under threat as a handler (or both are escapees after the confrontation and she's just more competent at infiltrating). Girard peeked at Blanche's stuff and accidentally left the wing bit. Zorn either detected royal jelly, or the owner of the wing bit specifically, and the experiment was not such that it would detect changelings more broadly. Girard tried to break in to scuttle the experiment before the detectives could press him. Gloria ranting about their home sucking and having to constantly cover for Girard is entirely true by analogy.
...why do I get the feeling that all of this is somehow going to be important to remember at a later date?
Don't you mean, "gotcha?"
You really will have egg on your face if she calls you out on that bluff, Pesco.
I can! Girard's just a cinnamon bun that, sadly, got dropped on the floor at some point, but is hopefully is still safe to eat in the end with a little cleaning.
...actually, that might not be the best metaphor I've ever uttered...
...point is, yes, I fully believe Gloria's claims about Girard's purer soul.
Same. And on that subject I say: shut up or put up, Gloria.
And there she shows some of her true colors. In the end, this is still all about her, not Girard, or really anyone else for that matter. I can see what she meant about herself starting to "putrefy," as she put it, and I applaud her for recognizing it enough to try and be proactive about doing something to at least stem it, as well as seeing why she thought leaving her homeland to come here might help to do that...but she's still got a good ways to go (and indeed, I think she "putrefied" way more than she acknowledges), and it'll have to start by reassessing her priorities first--namely, it's not always going to be about herself.
Mm. But is she doing it to ensure Girard succeeds, or because she doesn't want to deal with the personal embarrassment should he fail to rise to everybody else's lofty expectations?
Y'know, it's already been noted that Girard's got a detective-style of thinking in him and possibly other like skills (heck, that earlier quip Gloria made about something Girard said to police might actually have been Girard exhibiting that trait in some manner, and Gloria just failed to recognize it as such [probably because it was an inconvenience to her in some manner])...so maybe all what Girard really needs is the chance to prove to both himself and to others he's capable of putting such skills to proper use. Heck, Girard's problem just may be that he's being forced into a position that isn't a good fit for him, and even Gloria is failing to see it, unwilling to see an alternative as an option for him, even though Girard's clearly unhappy with the situation. So...give him the chance to choose his own path instead, to stand up for himself in a scenario we can be confident he would be good in.
...you know, with that in mind, maybe Girard's going to be the one who cracks the case in the end, or at least contributes greatly towards it...
So I was right then--she was just trying to protect herself from a political/social scandal, one that, assuming her account of things is true (and I honestly have no reason to think otherwise given her...frankness...about it), doesn't appear to have anything to do with our changeling in hiding.
In other words...the missing book really IS a red herring. I thought it would be.
Nah, she's not the changeling. Her venom about her own backstory is too genuine, IMO. She's at the very least not Scolus, if one's still favoring the two changelings theory...but I'm becoming more and more certain there's really just the one at most.
She is a spoiled brat, though, so I hope Pesco does make good on that threat of nailing her with those other charges later. I think she could use the wake-up call that'd provide, make her more aware of just how much she truly has "putrefied."
Oh yeah, and that's the other reason why I'm pretty sure she'd not the changeling. She does have an actual alibi in that regard. Which, ironically, was also around the same time Pesco got so darn focused on that darn book in the first place, so...funny how that came full circle.
Okay, that one I'm still not so sure on...I don't know if I'm just being stubborn at this point, but...there's something about Girard that has always stuck with me on the matter...he fits into this somehow, I just know it.
But I suppose if Gloria's account of them having pretty much grown up together is accurate (and again, no reason to assume otherwise at the moment), then I suppose that would in turn strain the likelihood Girard being the changeling a fair bit, because I have doubts our changeling has been in hiding in that form for quite that long (particularly when you consider he was likely already an adult 'ling when starting so...logistical concerns to keep in mind and all that--Blanche did indicate once that changelings had limitations at assuming forms notably smaller or bigger than their default size is long term, and I'd figure an adult 'ling trying to pose as a much smaller child would fully apply to that).
But yeah, I do still feel like Girard's going to play an important factor in resolving it all regardless...just not sure how exactly. Personally, I'd like it to be through his big chance to redeem himself in the eyes of others and in himself, but at the moment I can have no guarantees of that, so we'll see.
Because Zorn is so obviously NOT the changeling. No changeling is going to not only provide their own means of discovery and then also volunteer themselves for it to be applied to, just so he can prove his own innocence on the matter, all the while still bothering to conceal themselves at all. The changeling is not Zorn.
Grid is admittedly a bit more complicated, and I know there's some readers that are leaning in his direction...but I remain one who does not. To me, Grid's just a kid who cares deeply for his friends and it riles him up that one or all of them could be in danger because of all of this, but is frustrated he can't really do anything to fix it at the moment until he, like everybody else, knows more about who is and who isn't. Until then, he's struggling to find ways to proactively vent his feelings on the matter, and is probably bottling it up a little as a result.
But above all, now that Gloria's effectively getting ruled out as the changeling here, I highly suspect Grid's going to follow suit here real soon, for the same narrative reasons Gloria's getting ruled out--it's just time to. But as that means whatever suspicions about Grid are likely unrelated red herrings too, then that means Grid's probably got his own secret that's probably going to have to come to the light like Gloria's has, and at the moment, I can only speculate on that.
What's more alarming here though is not all that--it's the realization that none of them are the changeling altogether could be the very real outcome here. And that'll complicate finding the darn changeling a great deal.
See, you saying that makes me all the more inclined to think it's NOT Zorn, on the grounds that'd make it too narratively predictive, and thereby too obvious.
Nope, that settles it. This is just you having a grudge against Zorn for some reason, and accusing him of being the changeling is just too irresistible of a low-hanging fruit to pass up for you.
Why you have such a grudge against Zorn though...that's the question that might be worth asking here. What did Zorn do to you to draw your ire? Zorn seems at least uncertain himself (at the very least, he's not talking specifics about it), but there did seem to be the implication that it's a fairly recent development, because you were both on at least somewhat better terms before, so...what happened?
Yeah, that sums it up nicely all right. Though...I do feel like I need to point out you were acting somewhat similar towards Gloria not so long ago yourself, Pesco...so how's that egg on your face? Tasty?
Oh that struck a nerve. Don't like being called out, Gloria?
...or is it actually a truth you don't actually like being a truth? She does, after all, seem to show some resentment for her own state of "putrefaction," so this being the case may genuinely irk her, as it means her attempts at "self-helping" herself haven't panned out as well as she might like.
No, no, no, no, that sentence is important, or the 'ling wouldn't have bothered, so you'd be a fool to just dismiss it out of hand like this, Pesco.
Plus, don't leave me hanging on what it actually SAYS! Gah!
So at this point, all I know is who the changeling is not. It is definitely not Zorn. It is certainly not Blanche. I am pretty darn confident it's not Bon or Gloria either. As already stated, I'm not inclined to think it's Grid, and now I'm having doubts it's Girard too (though I admit to not having totally ruled it out just yet because I do really like that idea ). I had already toyed with the idea that it could be one of the two detectives, but not only can I not get that theory to all add up on how that could be and still match up with what we know thus far, we've already gotten evidence to imply and suggest that it's not them, on the grounds that Pesco was in the middle of confronting Gloria at the time of the changeling attack, and both he and Bluebird were clearly involved in trying to pin down the changeling in said attack, and I've already ruled out Bluebird having been replaced during said attack, because if he had, clues leaning in that direction would've already started to show themselves, and they just haven't. The fact Bluebird's one of our narrators and there has been no notable changes in how he narrates reaffirms that. Additionally, both Bluebird and Pesco were awake during the time of Scolus's "dreaming," for Bluebird was in talking with Grid at the time, and Pesco was later revealed to have been awake enough to notice Bluebird's prolonged absence.
Besides, if one of the detectives is a changeling, then that'd necessitate the two changelings theory, no exceptions, otherwise none of this would ever make a lick of sense if it was just one. But if that were the case, then as a 'ling who'd have insider knowledge on how the hive and the species would work, why do neither of them show a far more detailed knowledge of how 'lings work (and even bother getting a lot of the finer details from the likes of Blanche or Zorn in the first place since they'd know better), and why would either of them favor so strongly the changeling either being fully malicious or fully benevolent, when their experience of hive life would suggest they'd more likely want to assume it could be either/or equally to the point they'd want to hedge their bets on that more?
And I'm strongly starting to think there's no second changeling anyway, because at this point, assuming there IS a second changeling would only complicate further the explanation needed for it, so for the moment, I'm choosing to apply Occam's Razor to this and just stick with the theory that there's only the one changeling.
So...since that effectively means just about all of our suspects may in fact not be the changeling, I really AM starting to seriously consider that none of them are the changeling, but there is definitely a changeling hiding somewhere in the mansion. It's just a question of where (that oft mentioned but never visited boiler room perhaps?) and, I suppose, why.
...okay, no, I'll admit it, I'm ultimately still rooting for Girard to be the changeling deep down. It would just explain so much about him, and further justify why he specifically seems to be the one odd one out when it comes to the rest of his unfortunately distasteful griffon family.
But then...how has that changeling been maintaining that disguise, without any previous detection or suspicion, for this long? Because as of this chapter, if he IS the changeling, then I'm certain Gloria knows nothing of it, or else she would've already acted against him (given her lackluster state of character and tendency to selfishly put her own needs before that of others).
And...why let themselves slip now of all times after such a long time fooling apparently everybody? Was it really an accident? Or is our changeling now trying to get themselves caught? If so, why? And why not do the more efficient thing of just coming forward, revealing themselves, and surrendering peacefully? Why the elaborate charade?
Y'know, that's probably the real clincher to all this, and why we all still can't settle on any one suspect--we still don't have any clear idea of motive, of why this changeling is here at all in the first place, and why things are going down the way they are in these particular circumstances. If we could only get some better clues towards all that...
Well...maybe this mysterious slip of paper (speaking of, calling it now--the parchment it's written on matches the parchment that was with the wing fragment earlier) will give us just such a clue. But that'll have to wait until next chapter, won't it, you cliffhanger troll of an author, you. (Now I know why everybody is so quick to complain of the cliffhangers I put in my own stories )
Most engrossing stuff here. I'm afraid I'm going to keep my suspicions to myself for the most part, but I am leaning towards "the changeling was in the wine cellar the whole time" or something similar. Pesco dismissing that missive out of hoof may well be the biggest mistake he's made in the whole investigation.
Though with Gloria... It's fascinating how much overlap there is between the average changeling love farmer and a putrefied griffon noble, isn't there?
The changeling's note: "I WILL EAT ALL YOUR SOULS AND BECOME THE DEMON BUG GOD! MUWAH HA HA HA!!!"
It was huffing Raid... stuff really messes with bug brains.
11244037
Huff enough of it, and it messes with human brains, too. Guess how I know that.
😵
The twist that I probably should've expected is that the politician among the group is cruelly cunning. Of course, the saving grace (or the bittersweet tragedy) here is that, for all her sour intentions, she doesn't believe much in change. Given what we've seen of Scolus, should there be any attempt to keep him safe for the better, I'd believe that Gloria would just not attend to him.
I also agree with Pesco's assessment that Gloria's hypothesis on who the suspect may be is moon logic.
Gloria not being a strong suspect is the only thing I can agree with her on. Girard, while still not high on my list, cannot be fully crossed out if you believe that Girard's anxieties/problems are simply an extension of whatever fallout Scolus has had in the wake of his escape from the hive. Blanche calling the police on herself, while a nice seeming alibi on the outside, does have a hole in it if Scolus is thinking about revealing the truth (if the note is to be revealed), feeling guilt about the way things have been. Bon is a low-priority suspect, but not because of his party tricks but because of his wanting to give affection to Grid, not necessarily taking it (if the changeling wants to survive). Zorn can be a sensible high-tier suspect, but it's likely that Gloria doesn't know about Zorn's own past that helped shape his initial distrust of even his own friends (and of course, coincidences are either the best or the worst for an investigation).
And Grid... well, she doesn't have a good or a bad reason for it. Just no reason at all.
There's certainly more to Gloria than what she's letting on. If anything, being this hostile to an investigator is only asking for more attention to be on her. On the off-chance that Girard is the changeling and that Gloria not only knows but is deliberately hiding it from the detectives, it may be that her hostility could simply be cracking under the pressure of having to keep up a disgusting facade right below another, though cheerful, one to keep her "cousin" safe, especially after knowing that Girard's just been interviewed. It's pretty much disguising the changeling as a victim of another abuse so the attention is deflected towards the other four, and Gloria's lucky to have a good alibi against being the changeling herself.
If her putrid self is as far as the real Gloria goes, though, then it's... sorrowful. For a story about change, as I've said before here, she'd be the least accepting of change in others. Let's assume that Gloria's telling the whole truth concerning her backstory: Girard can't be changed for the better at least partly due to the fear of a fatal withdrawal; why else does Girard just survive and do the same thing over and over again, and why else would he break down at a single compliment? He might've believed that he couldn't be better due to being a corrupt noble, and Gloria simply helped perpetuate a cycle of "I'm corrupt; thus, I can't improve" > "I can't improve; thus, I'm corrupt" > ad infinitum (with Pesco breaking the cycle, if temporarily, by complimenting him).
So, Gloria's stuck with Girard, and her unchangeable mindset has infected him. If Gloria's words are true, Zorn's own words about abuse still ring truer.
I do hope Gloria's bit here is also an act. A kind griffon hiding underneath a filthy facade would make for a harrowing tragedy.