"If Mytho is sleeping in the garden again," Fakir muttered to himself as he swiped a hanging branch out of his face, "I really am going to let him have it." The idle threat wasn't even half true—Fakir didn't have the heart to fight with Mytho about anything these days. Sure, he would grumble and scowl, but Mytho needed the sleep anyway; Fakir just wished it wasn't in someplace so open.

Mytho's health hadn't been the greatest even before he had taken the mantle of the Prince, and it had recently taken a worrying turn for the worst. Daily ballet practice was really pushing it, too—Mytho usually ended the day fatigued and ready for bed. His pokémon did what they could, as did Fakir, but short of a miracle, there was no way to ease his pains completely. Fakir had resigned himself to the fact that Mytho would always be sickly, so he needed to work twice as hard as before to pick up the slack. Protecting Mytho took precedence over everything else, especially something as insignificant as his schoolwork or social life. (Besides, who needs a social life when you have Mytho?)

Much to his surprise, when he arrived at Mytho's usual napping spot he found his friend quite awake, and looking like he'd swallowed something emetic. Concern began to surge up Fakir's throat as he stepped into the clearing. Something was off.

"Mytho? What's wrong?" He didn't bother to conceal his worry as he knelt in front of his closest friend. Words fell out of his mouth faster than he could think them. "Are you feeling weak again? I told you not to leave the dormitory if you don't need to—" He cut himself off as he caught sight of Mytho's closed fist. Hesitating, he put a hand on top of it, gently prying open the clenched fingers to reveal the glittering red chunk of crystal.

All the breath left his body in one swift moment, and he felt the blood drain from his face.

"No," he said weakly.

"Someone is collecting Heart shards," Mytho said, as despair seeped into his face.

Duck caught her breath behind a long row of bushes, thankful that no one had seen her and Odette un-fuse. The feeling of being Tutu lingered in her blood for a hot second, and then vanished, making her dizzy with the withdrawal. Exhaustion crept into her bones as quickly as Tutu's power faded from her veins. It took a moment for her eyes to regain focus, and the oncoming dimness of twilight didn't exactly help. She wondered vaguely how long this feeling would last—and would it get better with each fusion, or worse? It felt so terribly lonely, now that she was just herself again.

Once she was sure she wouldn't topple over, she stood and brushed off her skirt. "That was really…" she began, but stopped once she realized she didn't have the words to describe it properly. Odette tilted her head understandingly.

It is quite a feeling, isn't it? Odette asked.

"Yeah," Duck replied with feeling. "Do you know how many more pieces there are?" Her other, unsaid question hung in the air between them: How many times will we do this again?

Unfortunately, I do not. She sighed. I do not even know how long I have been asleep.

"Really?"

If I knew more, I would not hesitate to tell you. I do not keep secrets.

So not even Odette herself knew her mysterious past.

"How frustrating!" Duck said, squashing her disappointment. If Odette didn't know, there was no use blaming her. "Well, how much do you know? Might as well start somewhere, right?"

There was a pause as Odette processed her question.

…Not much, Odette said grimly. I know what to do to become Princess Tutu, and how a heart shard feels. I know I am meant to aid you. Aside from that, I do not know much. I think… I think I have been asleep since the prince shattered his heart. Although my memory of that event is…different from the others.

"Different? How?"

Odette pondered for a moment, looking off into the distance through the trees. It does not match the rest of my memories, for one. It is too dark and oddly colored. I am sorry if it doesn't make sense—memories are hard to describe in the abstract. For whatever reason, my memories are… unfortunately vague.

Both of them fell silent, the sound of the wind through the trees speaking for them as they thought.

"Well," Duck said finally, checking the ground around her to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything, "I guess we should go check up on Fritz…"

He hadn't been looking good when she had left him in the infirmary. She should go into town soon and buy some potions or something—it wouldn't do to have to run him to the infirmary after every battle. Maybe she could get a little training in as well—since there was no way to tell how long before another shard would appear, she might as well spend her indefinite free time being productive.

She forced her way between the bushes and back onto the cobbled garden path (thoroughly undoing any previous progress from brushing it off). Odette followed behind, hopping the shrubbery with ease.

A million thoughts raced through Fakir's mind at once as he dashed off into the gardens in the direction Mytho had pointed out.

Who was collecting the shards?

Who even knew about the Heart in this tiny town? That's why they'd moved here, wasn't it? To have a normal life where the Heart was just the silliest of myths. Charon had agreed, too; nobody this far east of the mountains had thought seriously of the Heart for at least a century. The one time Fakir had heard someone mention it in this town was with derision. He doubted even the most eccentric scholars of this region would entertain the thought of it nowadays.

So why? Why the Heart? There were plenty of other items that did close to the same thing, if not nearly as powerful. The Heart wasn't even that valuable—outside of battle it was pretty much worthless. All it did was make a pokémon stronger, and only temporarily at that. It wasn't an evolutionary item, or even that beneficial strategically. And it wasn't even considered to be real here—why would someone chase after a fairy tale item that wasn't supposed to exist anymore?

And how? Mytho had smashed the thing years ago. And up until just a few minutes ago, Fakir would've sworn that it was sealed in various holes in a far off mountain. He'd been there when Mytho tore the gem from its gold setting, seen him use Felix to shatter it, and watched Adalwin create the barrier himself. There were only four humans this side of the mountains that knew about it—or there was supposed to only be four.

His birthmark began to itch uncomfortably, which happened whenever he got anxious. And rightly so—he had no idea what would happen to Mytho if the shards were all collected. He'd probably have to restart his bodyguard training, at the very least. Charon would not be happy about this. And he would have to tell him about it too—great. Something else to dread.

The klik-klak of someone walking the path ahead brought his attention back to the present, and he looked up sharply.

It was some girl—a student, one that he had maybe seen before? He didn't know immediately—and a gardevoir, walking in the same direction he was going. The girl was wobbling slightly, and it looked like the only thing keeping her right side up was a supporting hand from the gardevoir.

Could they have seen something?

"Hey, you!" he said as he caught up, making the girl jump. He recognized her once she turned; she was a student in the beginner class, the one Rue had danced with today. His eyes flicked to the gardevoir beside her—hadn't she battled with a psyduck earlier? If she had a full-grown gardevoir on her team, why hadn't she used it? He quickly pushed those thoughts out of his mind, reminding himself to stick with what was important.

"Y-yes?" the girl stammered, recognition flickering in her eyes. Her name came to him. Duck, or something equally odd.

"Have you seen anyone strange coming through here recently?"

The girl exchanged glances with her gardevoir. "Uh, no?" she said, uncertainly. "Why?"

Fakir wasn't sure if she was lying or just always this unsure. Either way he hoped he wouldn't have to speak to her any longer than necessary.

"Just… looking for someone," he said carefully. He was about to turn away when she spoke again.

"Hey, you're a friend of Mytho's, right?" she asked, a weird look in her eyes.

Ugh, he thought, his eyes narrowing. Another one of Mytho's fanbase. What could she want from him?

"Yeah. What about him?" he said impatiently. He didn't have time for another freshman to ask for Mytho's number, or the time to fight with her once he denied giving it.

"Is he doing okay? He always seems so exhausted after dance class, and his eyes always look so sad…" she stopped, a blush rising on her face to match her ginger hair.

"He's doing fine," Fakir said brusquely. "He doesn't need anyone else worrying about him, either," he added, not bothering to read her reaction before moving on.

He had only gone a few steps when he heard her topple over onto the cobblestones.

"Stupid," he muttered, barely turning his head to see if she was seriously hurt or not. He did turn, though, when he noticed the man and woman standing over her.

The pair couldn't have been older than their mid-twenties, and both were shorter than he was. They wore odd costumes—loose black tunics over dark tights, wearing black, beaked hoods that covered their faces and fell over their chests in a feathered design. And—were those ballet shoes? He supposed they were meant to look ominous (and perhaps on other people they would be), but it just looked silly. Still, he felt uneasy. Strangers weren't normally allowed on school grounds, and especially not when dressed like that.

The woman laughed as Duck weakly stood. "Oh, dear, this'll be easy," she crowed to her partner. "And look—we'll get a nice gardevoir out of it, too."

The man smiled, which was off-putting, since his eyes were hidden. "Of course, it won't be any fun, beating a pair of kids," he said. "But the boss didn't tell us to have fun."

Fakir reached into his pocket and pulled out Asim's pokéball. You didn't have to be a genius to tell these two wanted trouble.

"What do you want?" Duck asked, suspicious. Fakir glanced at her. If what he'd seen of her skills earlier that day was any sign, he and Asim would probably have to battle these two on their own. It was a shame he'd left Mas'ud and Na'ima in the dorm—he'd rather have a full team when handling a new opponent.

"Oh, nothing much, at the moment," the woman replied. "Just your pokémon."

At that, the pair summoned their own pokémon—Duck found herself staring down the beaks of two murkrows, their eyes glinting with cruel excitement. She backed up quickly, bumping into Fakir in the process.

"Sorry," she said, as he opened his own pokéball. He gave her an irritated look.

"If you think I'll let you have Asim, you're seriously delusional," Fakir scoffed, focusing back on the strange couple.

His lucario appeared beside Odette, turning to exchange looks with his trainer. Duck had seen the lucario in dance class a time or two, but never this close.

Warily, Duck looked at Odette. If she still felt this weak and dizzy after fusing as Tutu, how was Odette holding up? And they still needed to get back to the infirmary and check on Fritz. Had he woken up yet?

Do not worry, Duck, Odette said. I am more than strong enough to handle this.

Duck nodded; she was more worried that she would fall over again. Her legs felt like they were about to give out, and making more of a fool of herself was the last thing she wanted.

"Go on and move first, kiddies," the woman said. "It won't make any difference."

Fakir wasted no time. "Asim, use power-up punch."

"Go for it, Odette," Duck said, lowering her voice a little on the hope that Fakir wouldn't catch the name.

Duck's human senses weren't nearly as sharp as they had been as Tutu, or even as a ducklett, but she could still feel the excitement building in Asim as he charged into the battle. Even Fakir seemed to be buzzing with energy now, albeit a much lower, quieter burn than Asim's. Odette sent a quick wave of comforting thoughts her way, before sending a torrent of flower petals blasting towards her enemy.

The strangers responded in kind, and soon the battle was in full swing.

Duck found this battle much easier than the previous one—mainly because she didn't have to dance at the same time. It didn't hurt that she also knew the extent of Odette's moveset, due to their fusion. Asim didn't seem to have any trouble fighting either, despite the type disadvantage.

To their credit, the two murkrow put up a good fight—they even managed to land a couple of critical hits on Odette and Asim (not that they did much damage). But Asim's punches were fast, accurate, and looked pretty painful. Due to the type matchups, everyone had at least one disadvantage—Odette seemed to be at the most risk, given how much energy she had already expended today. However, it looked like they had experience on their side—Duck knew Odette had a lot of experience, much more than either of the murkrows.

After a few minutes of fighting, Asim had already beaten his opponent, and Odette delivered the final psychic blow to her own. The defeated murkrow were splayed on the ground in oddly comical positions, and their trainers looked a lot less assured than when they had first appeared.

"Hmph," the woman said, recovering a little of her pride as she summoned her murkrow back to its pokéball. "You've won the right to keep your pokémon for a little while longer. Don't let it get to your heads."

"Team Raven won't be stopped by a couple of school kids," her partner said as he did the same. "One of our brethren is sure to humble y—"

"Oh, shut up," Fakir interrupted crossly. "Get out of here already—or do I need to beat you up as well?" Asim looked at them pointedly.

The two of them scowled, but nonetheless turned and left. Fakir and Asim watched their retreat.

"We should follow them," Fakir said to Asim. He hated not knowing who was collecting heart shards, but making sure those goons weren't still on campus and terrorizing other students (or, heaven forbid, Mytho) was more of a priority at the moment. They could check up on Mytho when they'd made sure the campus was weirdo-free.

Asim nodded, and the two of them stalked off behind the strangers.

Duck and Odette were left standing alone again, much to their relief. Duck waited until Fakir and Asim were out of earshot to speak.

"I'm sorry!" Duck said, turning to Odette. "I know I'm not supposed to let anyone know you're here—I probably just blew our cover…"

It is okay, Duck. There are some things we cannot control, and I think that Fakir is one of them. She offered a reassuring smile, which Duck tried to return. She did feel a little better, though.

"So much happening in one day," she said tiredly. "Are you okay? You've used a lot of energy recently."

I am fine, Odette replied. I could make use of the infirmary, though.

Duck nodded. "We need to pick up Fritz anyway." She fumbled in her pockets for Odette's pokéball, returning her to it silently. She felt odd as she placed the ball back into the pocket of her dress, but paid it no mind.

She turned in the direction of the infirmary, and before she could even take another step, the world went fuzzy, then dark.

Duck opened her eyes, the feeling of cold stone against her beak becoming unbearable. She touched it delicately with a wingtip, making sure it wasn't bruised.

She paused. Wait a second. Beak? Wingtip? Was she—?

"Wha—?" she quacked incredulously, sitting up, and then immediately felt her heart sink. Somehow, she was a ducklett again, and she didn't have time to figure out how.

"Oh no…" she groaned.

Had she passed out? There was a vague memory of her legs and head feeling funny, and then…nothing. But even then, why was she back to being a ducklett? She had assumed that once she'd begun her quest she would stay human—no one had ever said anything about reverting back. And how could she get back to her human form? There was still a quest to complete.

She stood clumsily, looking around herself. Thankfully, her pendant still hung from her neck. Her clothes were in a pile around her, as well as Odette's pokéball. She scrabbled for the ball, trying to depress the button with her beak and wings, but to no avail. Maybe pokémon couldn't open other pokémon's balls? Or maybe she was just doing it wrong; it was hard to tell without thumbs, or even hands. She sighed, and then quickly rustled her clothes and the pokéball into a makeshift bundle, which she tied around herself, and then set off in the direction of the infirmary.

It was hard to walk, since she had quickly gotten used to being in a human body. Now she had to remind herself how to step so that her webbed feet didn't slap against each other as she walked.

The change in perspective was a little daunting, too. Not that she'd been all that tall as a human girl, but now it was just ridiculous. Everything was so much bigger, and just far enough apart to remind her how much more ground her longer, human legs would cover. If only she could fly—but she'd never really learned, and so she was stuck on the ground, pit-patting her way to the infirmary.

Maybe Fritz would have an idea of what to do.

Fritz himself sat outside the infirmary, thinking over his options. Duck hadn't come to get him yet, so he had checked himself out (rather, he had just walked out while the nurse was in the back). Now he could either head to Duck's dorm, try to find Duck herself, or just go get something to eat from the cafeteria. His stomach wanted the third option, but he was just worried enough to forgo that and attempt to find her on his own. It was unusual for Duck to leave him alone like this. In fact, in the two weeks or so he had known her, they hadn't been apart for more than half an hour.

Something was up.

Had she finally progressed in her mission? He wasn't sure, but it was the only thing he could think of that would make her stay away for so long. Well, the only positive thing.

He waddled down the hallway, eager to get away from the harsh smells of the infirmary. He caught a glimpse of the setting sun through the window as he turned a corner—

—And bumped into something going the opposite way, and fell back.

"Oof!" it said, as Fritz rubbed the spot where they had collided.

Startled, he looked up and locked eyes with a tiny ducklett, barely a foot and a quarter tall, a bundle tied around her neck—and wearing a blood red pendant.

"Duck?" he asked incredulously.

"Fritz!" she replied, relieved. She put her wings on her hips (which wouldn't have looked any more dignified as a human) and gave him a pointed look, exasperated.

"Now do you believe me?"

"Just a few more volts," Edel muttered to herself, fiddling with the dials on her Van de Graaff generator. She was aiming to create her own thunderstone in the lab—and potentially make a cheaper, mass-produced version to relieve the stress on those mining for the stones. Mining for evolutionary stones wasn't a safe or renewable resource, especially not anywhere near Kinkan town. The closest mine was a good hundred miles away, making evolutionary stones much more expensive here than elsewhere.

Many other scientists were working on similar projects, but Edel had a feeling that she was close to cracking the problem. Beryl was a great aid in the experiments, being able to tell her if the stones she was creating felt anything like the power stored within the real thunderstones.

Of course, she wouldn't stop at thunderstones. Leafstones and waterstones were her next goals, although they seemed like they might be a little more difficult. Eventually she planned to understand and artificially create every type of evolutionary item—it was her life dream, ever since she had received her first moonstone.

The thunderstone experiments were getting close, too—Beryl had deemed the last one only a little too weak, so this next batch should have at least one stone that works. Excitement rolled in the back of her stomach, a low energy that had been boiling for the past few days as she grew closer and closer to making her first artificial thunderstone.

A draft blew through the basement, making her fingers grow cold. She absently rubbed warmth into them as she watched the dial creep towards the intended range.

It was well past ten at night now, and Uzura and Beryl were both asleep (Beryl would check this newest batch of stones in the morning). Edel's third mug of coffee sat at her elbow, which she nursed in between experiments. Her notebook lay open on the table to her right, pen ready to take notes in her small, cramped script. She'd filled dozens of notebooks already, and they all sat next to her computer, ready to be digitalized and turned into a proper scientific article once she succeeded in her task. She didn't have the funding to get one of those fancy PDAs, or even a better computer. Instead, she was stuck with her rather large clunker that struggled to connect to the internet, let alone run complex programs. But she was grateful—she had her collection, and her intelligence, and her family. The gadgets could fall by the wayside, as long as she had those.

The draft came again, a little colder this time, and brought with it little tendrils of smoke that stayed in the shadows, where Edel didn't notice them. Unbeknownst to her, the smoke began to gather in the corners and along the walls and across the ceiling overhead, where it lingered. The tendrils came together at the same speed as the dial, forming a sphere that hovered ghostlike in the air. A few moments passed, and the shape suddenly shifted, contracting and then expanding—

—Until it finally caught her attention.

A few things happened in quick succession. First, the smoke stopped moving, and then dispersed altogether in a small poof, revealing a pair of staring eyes and a large, toothy grin, and a rather disconcerting pair of detached hands. Edel looked up.

"Hello, my dear Edel."

Edel gasped, jerking backwards and up out of her chair, knocking the coffee mug off the table and shattering it on the floor in the process.

"Oh dear, I didn't think you'd be this startled. Although I supposed I should have expected that…" the specter said, looking down at the mess.

"What the he—" Edel began, partially regaining her composure.

"I'm sorry to barge in during your fine experiments, Professor Edel," he interrupted. "But I thought it was time for the two of us to finally meet."

Something clicked into place, and Edel realized who she was looking at.

"So you're the one who turned Duck human," she said, glaring suspiciously at him.

"Am I?" he asked, rubbing his chin with one hand. The specter's hands were almost comically cartoonish—they were large and gloved, and moved cunningly through the air despite not being attached to anything. "I guess you could say that. Although it's not really my power that she's using, is it? But, for all intents and purposes, I am the author of this story, yes."

As troubling as his words were, Edel's composure had returned by now, and she fixed her visitor with a steely look. "Then I have some questions for you."

He waved his hands in a dismissive gesture. "Of course, dear Professor. But be aware, I have something to ask of you as well."

A little while later, Edel sat pensively in her chair, arms stiffly resting on the desk. The Van de Graaff machine was turned off, the almost-thunderstones she had been working on sat neglected.

In front of her hovered her guest. He was posed as if sitting, although he was floating several feet off the ground. In his hands he held a teacup, filled precariously with Edel's most expensive tea blend. She eyed him warily, lingering a moment on the tea he was certainly not drinking.

"First of all," she began, "Who are you?"

"What a cliché question, Edel—I'm disappointed," He said, and finally took a sip from his teacup. "If only to make you move on, I'll tell you."

He took great interest in placing the cup on the saucer just so before continuing, by which point Edel was quickly losing patience.

"When I was alive, I was called Professor Drosselmeyer," he said finally, and Edel felt suddenly chilly (well, chillier). "But after dying, I decided that being an author suited me better. Don't you agree? I have quite a marvelous story in progress."

The fog at the edges of the room swirled slowly, even as the dial on the Van de Graaff machine and the hands on Edel's clock sat deathly still. Not that she had time to notice any of that—all of her attention was focused on Drosselmeyer and her racing thoughts.

"Is that so," she said, fingers slowly wrapping around her pen. She doubted it'd work as a weapon, but just holding it made her feel a little better.

Drosselmeyer leisurely sipped his tea. "I don't see any reason for you to doubt me, dear Edel, but that's unimportant. Duck is in need of your help, you see."

Worry rose in her throat like bile, and she swallowed vainly to dispel it.

"How so?" she asked, voice wavering slightly.

"Oh, don't worry about her too much. She's a smart girl—or should I say pokémon?" He chuckled to himself. "Either way, she isn't in much danger at the moment. Rather, she has found herself at a bit of an impasse."

His hands flourished in midair, and between his gloved palms the smoke shimmered and then dissipated, replaced by an image of Duck—but not the human girl Edel had met only a few weeks previously. This was her ducklett form, wearing the unmistakable red pendant. The image shifted, and Edel realized she was watching Duck in real time as she walked through the streets of Kinkan Town.

"She's reverted to her previous form?" she murmured, worried eyes fixed to Duck's image. Curiosity tempered her uneasiness a little, and she relaxed her grip on the pen.

"Indeed," Drosselmeyer said, snapping his hands together and dispelling the image. "It seems that when she is too weak to sustain the illusion, she returns to being a little ducklett. And honestly," he added, waving his hands in a nonchalant shrug, "I have no idea how to get her back to being a human."

"No—?" Edel started, grip tightening again. "Aren't you the one who gave her the pendant? How do you not know?"

"Oh, don't get me wrong. I know it's possible to return her to human form—I'm the author, and nothing happens without my say-so, you know—it's just that in this case, I don't know exactly how it will happen. It's the same reason I brought a ducklett into the story in the first place—sometimes you just have to believe that the characters will do what they're supposed to. And that's where you come in, Edel."

Edel gave him a thorny glare, crossing her arms. This author and character talk was absolutely grating on her nerves.

"You are a scientist, are you not?" he asked, exasperated and defensive. "You are the perfect character to unlock a few secrets from the pendant—not too many, mind. That'd ruin the surprise," he said. "And believe me, you'll both be well rewarded for it. Duck will get to move on to the next part of her journey, and you…well, we can work something out now, can't we?"

"I'm sure," she said gruffly.

"She'll see you sometime in the next few hours, depending on how fast she and her friend can waddle here. Of course, you must keep this little meeting a secret. It's improper for an author to have his plans known—ruins the plot and my reputation."

Edel scoffed. "And why should I do anything you say?"

Drosselmeyer's eyes narrowed slightly, but after a second he lifted the corners of his mouth into a foreboding grin. "Oh, my dear," he replied, and waved a hand, "You don't have to do anything. But let's just say it would be in your best interest to take this initiative."

At the word "interest", another image appeared above his palm—Uzura, sleeping calmly in her bed. Edel felt her heart shoot into her throat.

After a tense moment, she nodded.

"I'll do it," she said, words hard to force out.

"Good," Drosselmeyer drawled. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have other matters to attend to."

And with that, he wrapped his cape dramatically around himself and was gone, taking the cold and fog with him.

Finally, Duck was readjusted to her natural form. It was a little troubling, though, since the easier being a ducklett became, the less likely it felt like she'd return to being human. If she was a ducklett, she couldn't be Princess Tutu, and then her whole quest would be a bust. Anxiety writhed in the pit of her stomach at the thought.

But she couldn't keep moping, she decided. There had to be a way to get back to being a human girl. The pendant rested on her chest, a reminder of what she could be, what she needed to be.

"Do you have any ideas?" she asked Fritz, who had sat beside her and listened to her account of the last few hours with his usual attentiveness.

He shook his head, and Duck sighed. After spending a few moments trying to come up with something herself, she perked up and pushed herself off the ground. Her clothes bundle slipped down a little, and she nudged it back into place.

"Well, I think I might have something," she said brightly. "You're not the only one who knows about my, uh… condition… Anyway, I know someone who might be able to help!"

Oddly, Edel wasn't very surprised when she found the two pokémon at her doorstep in the early morning (even though she attempted to act like she was). She welcomed them in with a strange look on her face, and ushered them down to her basement lab.

"Unfortunately, I don't have your gift for talking to pokémon, Duck," Edel said lightly as she picked them both up and set them on her worktable. "And Beryl can't be of much help either, although I'm sure he's happy to see you." She helped Duck untie the bundle of clothes from around her shoulders.

Beryl himself was standing precariously on a stool next to the worktable, peering at them with a lopsided grin. "Didn't think I'd see you so soon, Tiny," he said.

Duck shrugged, which looked funny in her natural form. "It was the only thing I could think of." She didn't mind the nickname, mostly because she knew Beryl didn't mean anything by it.

"And I do hope you'll introduce your new friend and me once you're back to normal, right?" she asked, motioning to Fritz. Duck nodded emphatically.

"Good. Now, I'm just going to take off your pendant—is that okay? I'd like to examine it some."

Duck nodded again, and lowered her head so that Edel could remove the necklace. Edel then put on her eyepiece, flicking the magnifying lenses down one by one as she inspected the red stone.

"Oh, do make yourselves at home," she insisted, pausing from her work. "I have no idea how long this will take, so you might as well rest up. I think Uzura will wake up soon."

Fritz and Duck followed Beryl back upstairs, and Duck proceeded to give a detailed account of the past few weeks, at Beryl's behest. He listened intently, and she was nearly finished with her recounting when the door to Uzura's room creaked open.

Beryl gave a lopsided grin. "This ought to be fun," he said quietly.