II. In the Dark Backward

Cantor awoke with a start, mid-snore. He snorted, coughed, and cleared his throat. The train had just rattled over a particularly bumpy bridge.

Cantor blinked groggily and got almost half-way through saying “Sorry” before Magpie’s spectral glare and shaken hoof cut him off. While Cantor wasn’t sure that Magpie actually would haul off and smack him for an unnecessary (as she saw it) apology he didn’t want to risk it.

“Well, good to see that Cantor’s at least working on that reflexive ‘apologizing when he’s surprised,’ thing. ‘tis a bad habit which would be better broken.” Morari sounded both thoughtful and pleased. He was seated on the bench beside Valentina, not that she could see him. He was also peering over her shoulder.

“Sooner rather than later!” Admiral Fairweather agreed. Fairweather was also still taking in the whole “cross-country train-travel” thing with delight and wonder. This modern era was full of surprises and delights.

Thankfully the train was not crowded today. As a result, Cantor and his friends had one small sitting car all to themselves.

Cantor shook his head to try to clear the mental cobwebs. He also felt unusually warm and heavy. He had been deeply asleep so it would take him a while to return to true wakefulness. Cantor looked out the window. Outside the light was noticeably different from the pale, pastel glow of dawn he expected to see. He frowned.

How long had he been sleeping?

“You needed the rest, dove.” Valentina was seated across from Cantor in the carriage. She had on her reading glasses – more as a fashion statement than because her eyes needed the assistance. She was reading the book ”Red Blade.” Several of Colonel Lusk’s other works on Laughing Jack were piled beside her. Morari was following along, looking over her shoulder and reading the story too. Cantor noted Valentina was almost finished with the thing. She hadn’t even started it when last Cantor recalled resting his eyes ... for just a moment, or at least so he had intended.

Also, there hadn’t been a pillow tucked between Cantor’s seat-back and the carriage wall when he had fallen asleep. There was now. Apparently he had slept quite heavily indeed not to have noticed somepony tucking it in behind his head.

“We need …” Cantor was interrupted by a yawn. Valentina book-marked her place with a Ponyville tourism brochure before shutting the paperback. Cantor continued, “Uhm. We need to work out what we’re going to do going forward. Get some strategic planning under our belts.”

There was a soft, rhythmic sound in the car. Something other than the constant clickty-clack of the train’s wheels along the rails. It took a moment for Cantor to place it.

Jon Quill was snoring.

Jon Quill was also sprawled over Cantor’s midsection with his forelegs wrapped tightly around the unicorn. Thus the extra warm and heavy sensation Cantor had already noted.

Well, Cantor thought to himself, it’s not the first time I’ve been used as a pillow.

Judging from Jon’s expression, Cantor was a comfy pillow. Cantor was relieved to note that at least Jon didn’t drool.

There was a twinkle in Valentina’s eyes as she removed her glasses and stowed them away. Then her expression grew a bit more serious.

“You really did need the sleep, Cantor. You were up most of the night doing those necessary ‘researches.’” Valentina included the air-quotes with one hoof.

Cantor grimaced. Valentina sighed. She leaned across the narrow space between her bench and the one shared by the two stallions to pat Cantor reassuringly on one foreleg.

“No worries, dove. You got us some more information on those knives. And some more leads to follow up on, should our attempts to get into the Badlands go south.” Valentina blinked, then grinned, “Or would that be ‘go north?’”

Cantor raised an eyebrow. Valentina chuckled and added, “Oh, la! You know what I mean!”

Cantor’s face scrunched up in a grimace. “I do indeed!” He stretched his forelegs, trying not to shift his weight too much.

Jon Quill hugged him tighter and continued to snore softly.

Magpie looked far too amused by this, even more so than Valentina. Cantor rolled his eyes at them both. He pursed his lips in mild disapproval, and once again looked out the window. The scenery looked vaguely familiar. His frown deepened.

“Uh … how much longer is it until we get to Ponyville?”

“We’ve got a few minutes.”

“What?!” Cantor was shocked and surprised. Jon skipped a beat in his snores.

Valentina still seemed amused. “Cantor, dear Cantor, we’ll work it out. You do know you overthink things sometimes, yes?”

“Oy! Sometimes? Just those time’s ‘e’s awake! … ‘r’ Dreamin’!” Magpie managed to sound both amused and annoyed.

”I still think that has something to do with his training at Nighthaven Academy.” Morari added.

”Perhaps. I, for one, am more concerned about Cantor’s affinity for worry. There is nothing wrong with thought alone.” Fairweather paced to the far side of the car, looking out the windows there at the land whizzing past.

Cantor shrugged, yielding the point.

Jon Quill blinked, yawned, and looked around. Cantor looked down at him with raised eyebrows and a down-turned mouth. It was not an approving expression.

The reporter blushed and sat upright with a, “Sorry! Nodded off there. What did I miss?”

“You missed Cantor getting a nap. Don’t worry, Jon dear-colt – you’ve not missed much of his worrying about what we’re doing next.” Valentia’s tone was still teasing.

Cantor couldn’t help but chuckle. “All right, all right. Maybe I have been worrying a bit much about this … but we do kind of need this visit to go well. It would be nice to get one problem off our backs.”

Jon frowned around another yawn. “Sorry. Why do we even need to talk to your sister again?”

Cantor sighed. His tone, when he answered, was serious enough that Valentina lost her amused grin.

“Because that’s the first step to shaking free of Tarrant Fether.”

Jon’s eyes widened. “Oh. Right. Him.” Jon looked distinctly uncomfortable.

Cantor gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “Hey, no worries Jon. So you talked to the stallion. No harm in that. Fether’s Fether.”

Jon still looked distressed. Cantor continued, “I know what Tarrant thinks about me.”

Jon’s face fell as he said, “Do you? Do you really?”

Cantor grinned. “Short version? I’m possessed by demons and I don’t know it.” Cantor sounded quite amused by the thought.

Jon Quill’s grimace made it clear he thought this wasn’t a laughing matter. “How can you …?” He began.

“Joke about it?” Cantor finished the journalist’s statement.

“Hold on a tic. Did you say ‘possessed?’” Valentina shook her head, not sure if she had heard correctly.

”Ruddy sawbones! I ain’t never been no demon.” Magpie muttered to herself.

“Yep! That’s Fether for you. Oh, don’t worry Jon. I know Fether’s got some very persuasive arguments on the subject. And he’s used them on you. But I’m more confident than ever that that’s not what’s going on with me.” Cantor’s tone was surprisingly authoritative.

But then Cantor continued, in a rather less confident tone, “Well … let’s just say I’m almost entirely certain. I suppose there’s always going to be some doubt.”

Morari facehoofed. Fairweather rolled his eyes and muttered, ”Leave it to Cantor to undermine his own position. We must teach the lad to have some real faith in himself.”

“Why are you more certain now?” Jon was curious.

Cantor’s face fell, the amusement vanished. “Because now I’ve actually seen the sort of demon he thinks has gotten into my head.” He looked over at Valentina. “You have too. The Pony of Shadows.”

There was a pause. Valentina shivered slightly at the memory.

Cantor continued. “You know that I can see in the dark … but it’s more than just that. I can see darkness. I saw her. Really saw that … thing. And I can tell you, my friends here …” he gestured around the cabin at the haunts “… they are nothing at all like what I saw back then.”

Valentina chimed in, “I saw Morari there too, Jon, if that helps.”

“What?” Cantor and Jon Quill spoke as one.

Valentina cocked her head to one side. “Didn’t I say? Well, what a goose I am!”

Magpie looked at Valentina with an expression of shocked surprise. The ghost opened her mouth to say something, but apparently thought the better of it and just shook her head in confusion.

Valentina continued, “When Caballeron was getting ready to smash Cantor’s head in with that iron book back at the Bodleian, Morari did some sort of spell …”

“A force bubble, simple – but effective.” Morari added.

Valentina continued, not even realizing she’d been interrupted, “… and Caballeron’s blow bounced off of it.” Valentina looked unusually thoughtful and a touch embarrassed. “I thought I had mentioned all this before. Sorry, dove! From what I recall, Jon, Morari’s about yay high …” she raised one hoof.

Morari obligingly stepped beneath it. Valentina’s memory for his height was spot on.

“ … horn about yay long …” Valentina held her hooves apart. Again Morari obligingly positioned his head so that Cantor could see the length matched.

“… he wore glasses, had a white blaze on his forehead, he had a well trimmed goatee and no mane whatsoever.” Morari nodded and pushed his glasses up on his muzzle to rest on his blaze.

“He was also transparent ... like smoked glass. His horn and eyes were … I don’t know … roiling? Seething? It wasn’t a very nice looking magic.” Valentina shook her head.

”It was cast off energy leaking from the Pony of Shadows. It wasn’t a nice feeling power to draw upon, I can assure you!” Morari added.

“He glared right at Caballeron and said,” as Valentina took a breath and dropped her voice to imitate the smooth burr of the long dead scholar, Morari himself struck a pose and lip-synched along with her, matching her movements with his own, “’Leave him be, living pony, the dead protect him!’” The accompanying gestures were theatrically dramatic.

Valentina nodded. “It was quite impressive.” Morari certainly looked pleased with himself, Cantor thought. But Valentia then went on to add, “Well, briefly impressive. Of course the Pony of Shadows immediately sucked all that black magic out of him and he just screamed like a foal and faded away.”

Cantor tried very hard not to laugh as Morari’s pride visibly deflated during Valentina’s closing assessment.

Jon, on the other hoof, looked rather relieved to hear that somepony other than Cantor had seen one of the spooks, even if just briefly.

Cantor’s smile faded. “However, continuing our researches with Fether on my trail would be …” Cantor trailed off.

“Difficult?” Valentina chimed in.

“Yes. Difficult is a nice way to put it. Shaking him loose won’t be easy either. Step one would be to get the courts to rescind the order for my detention and confinement in a mental health care facility.” Cantor gestured with his hoof, indicating the important point here, “And the most helpful thing we can do on that front is convince my sister to withdraw her support for my confinement.”

“Not your mother?” Jon piped up.

Cantor shook his head, “No. Mom’s highly unlikely to change her mind about her lunatic son.” He sighed. “I love her to pieces, and – in her own way – I’m sure she loves me too, but … well …” Cantor raised an eyebrow. “You do know I am the product of a mixed marriage, yes? Dad was a unicorn, but mom’s an earth-pony. Even if her folks are of gypsy descent, the whole ‘strange magics’ thing is something mom just doesn’t get. Honestly I think it scares her. My sister Rosa is an earth-pony too, but she’s quite a bit more open minded about these things! Enough to give me much more benefit of the doubt.”

Cantor grinned.

“Plus, Rosa’s a medical professional. She’s been involved with my health care on other occasions when I’ve been committed. Her word counts for a lot in these matters.”

“She’s a doctor?” Valentina seemed pleased by the thought.

“No. She’s a nurse. She does all the heavy lifting and real medical work that the doctors don’t want to do!” Cantor’s tone was fond as he recalled his sister’s occasional gripes about her job.

“I see. So if your sister the nurse says you’re sane enough to wander around Equestria freely …” Jon began.

Cantor completed the thought, “… then that, coupled with Hive Naught’s lawyers in Albion already contesting my detention in their court system, should be enough to get the orders dropped. At which time Fether won’t have legal grounds to hold me.”

“Fether won’t like that,” Jon sounded rather troubled by the thought.

“He won’t, but Fether’s mind is all gears and numbers; he’s far too by-the-book to come after me on his own volition without the full backing of the law.” Cantor sounded quite convinced on the matter.

Jon Quill, on the other hoof, wasn’t. Having seen first-hoof Fether’s obsession with Cantor’s supposedly delusional state, Jon felt certain the good doctor would never give up his pursuit. But Jon decided there wasn’t much point in bringing this concern up right at the moment.

“Also,” Cantor continued, “please don’t call sis ‘Rosa.’”

“No?” Valentina raised an eyebrow.

“Indeed,” Cantor nodded, “My father was the one who was all about the fancy names. I mean, really, ‘Cantor Mortalis?’ There’s not even a decent way to adapt that to a less overly high-brow vernacular. ‘Mortal Singer’ or ‘Singer for the Dead’ sound like I’m fronting some goth-metal band. Sis got off lucky in that regard. Why even before moving back to Ponyville, she’s been using a different, and more common, form of her given name.”

“So, Nurse Red?” Jon asked.

Cantor shook his head. “No, but almost. Rosa Cuer: Redheart.”

“And you think you can convince your little sister, Nurse Redheart, to give you a clean bill of mental health?” Valentina, noting the train was beginning to slow, started packing away the books she had been reading.

Cantor grinned. “I can be very persuasive! So yes, I think I can. At least temporarily.”

“Do you think we’ll meet any celebrities? Is there time for a visit to the Castle? For that matter, why not see about getting one of the more potent magic-users living here involved in our researches? Isn’t there a really good library in town?” Jon Quill was back to his lively, question filled self.

Cantor shook his head.

“Jon, we’re trying to keep a low profile, remember? Odds are good that Fether will come here soon looking to track me down. And if we get mixed up with some of the more prominent locals, we’ll just make it easier for him. After all, even if we do convince my little sister to withdraw her support for my detention, it’s still going to take a decent amount of time for everything to sort itself out with the courts and yet more time before the orders are officially withdrawn. If Fether catches up with us in the interim, while things are still in some sort of gray area ... well ... surely a juicy story or two isn’t worth the trouble that would entail, eh?”

Jon’s face fell, but he nodded in agreement.

“Which reminds me, on the off chance you see a bright pink pony pronking her way around, for the love of Celestia try to blend into the background. She’s the only pony here who might make enough of a fuss about my return to leave memorable gossip about it around town!”

“Pronking?” Valentina’s tone was questioning. One eyebrow had shot up. She was walking beside Cantor, ready to help steady him if his bad leg gave out.

“Yeah!” Jon chimed in, “Like this!” And he began prancing around with a rather silly gait. Rather than walking or trotting or even galloping, he hopped – all four hooves bounced off the ground simultaneously then all four hooves landed back on it … he hopped in a circle around Cantor and Valentina.

“Just so, Jon. Just so.” Cantor nodded. Jon returned to a walk. They were making their way out of the train-station and into town.

Cantor drew a deep breath. He felt himself relax. Ponyville always had a certain … feel.

”Oy, this place feels nice.” Magpie’s tone was more suspicious than approving.

”I suspect there may be a number of magical factors at work in that regard.” Morari was frowning as he looked around at the pleasant, rustic buildings and the equally pleasant, rustic ponies.

”What, like that?” Fairweather pointed at a distant, massive structure. It bore a strong resemblance to a tree, but was made entirely of crystal. It seemed to glow in the early afternoon light, bathing the land around it with soothing, pale rainbows.

Morari raised his eyes and blinked at the distant castle in surprise. He nodded.

“Is that pink pony you mentioned a friend of yours?” Valentina inquired.

”Oy! I wish Cantor had a few more ‘good friends’ around, eh?” Magpie nudged Cantor in the ribs.

As usual, Cantor ignored Magpie. “She’s everypony’s friend.” Magpie giggled. Cantor’s sigh managed to sound both good-natured and frustrated. “You ever know one of those ponies who gets into parties? I mean really gets into them? Like magically, reality-bendingly so?”

Valentina smiled. Jon did too. He added, “They can be fun!”

Cantor chuckled and shook his head, though he clearly wasn’t disagreeing with his friends. “She’s like that, only more so. Combine that with a foal hyped up on sugar. Oh, I suspect she’s matured and mellowed over the years since I had much to do with her, but … well … let’s just say I’ve never been a fan of being the guest of honor at a surprise party.”

“Oh dear,” Valentina sounded appropriately sympathetic. She knew Cantor was the sort of pony to be exceedingly uncomfortable with that kind of attention. Admittedly, Valentina got considerable pleasure from pushing him into social situations outside his comfort zone.

“And …” Cantor drew out the word, a wry smile on his face, “… even ponies who are magically good at something can occasionally mess it up. Badly. Really badly. Not from lack of effort or enthusiasm, nor from bad intentions, but …”

Cantor grimaced. He shook his head at a distant memory. “Let’s just say that some things, in retrospect, are in very poor taste.”

“How poor?” Jon was intrigued.

Cantor stopped walking and just stared at him, stone faced.

For a moment Jon thought Cantor wasn’t going to answer. But then Cantor said, “The last time I was released from Ponyville General’s psych ward, she threw me a surprise, impromptu, and very public ‘Congratulations on Getting Out of the Insane Asylum’ party.”

Two living ponies and three ghosts stared at Cantor in shock.

“It was literally the first thing I saw as I walked out the door of the hospital.”

Cantor’s tone was reflective. He still sounded amazed at the memory, and perhaps – with the benefit of several years to take some of the sting out of a most unpleasant experience – even a little amused, as he continued, “She had decorated with brightly colored open cages. And there were birds wandering around everywhere. Specifically blue-footed boobies. There were straight-jackets hung in the trees with lantern-lights in them.”

Jon Quill was making strangled noises. Valentina looked like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“The cake said: ‘Congrats on Getting Out of the Booby-Hatch!’”

To her credit, Magpie had been trying to hold in her laughter. But that last detail was too much for her. Only Cantor and the other haunts could hear Magpie’s shrill guffaws as she collapsed against Morari, unable to stand on her own four hooves.

Valentina raised a hoof to her mouth in horror, her eyes had grown wide.

“Please, Cantor … no more!” Jon Quill pleaded.

Cantor, however continued, “Oh, and she had spiked the punch with anti-psychotics.”

“No!” Jon was aghast.

“’Just in case!’ she said. Thankfully nopony who got accidentally poisoned as a result wound up getting too sick,” Cantor grinned suddenly. “I’ll spare you a description of the party games she had arranged. Or of the music. Worst party of my life. Possibly worst party ever. Of all time.”

Cantor raised an eyebrow and looked at the comically shocked faces of his traveling companions. “Once it sank in how much of a disaster it was, she felt awful about it of course.” Cantor’s eyes twinkled. “Do you want to guess how she tried to make it up to me?”

“No. Please merciful sisters, no!” Valentina seemed caught between laughter and tears. Jon Quill placed his hooves over his ears and just shook his head.

Cantor nodded, he spoke slowly, with great relish, enunciating every word with deliberate emphasis. “Oh yes! … By throwing me another party.”

Magpie lost her grip on Morari and slid to the ground. Cantor reflected that if she actually needed to breathe there might have been a very real danger of the filly passing out – she couldn’t seem to stop laughing to catch her breath.

“So, yeah.” Cantor paused and then his expression hardened, “In all seriousness, if you see her around try not to get noticed. We really don’t need the exposure.”

“Are you sure we shouldn’t run?” Valentina sounded half serious.

Cantor shook his head. “Running would only attract her attention.” His voice lowered to a dramatic whisper as he added, “She’s inescapable.”

“Once we’re done with the Trotting Dead, Cantor, remind me to come back here and do an exposé about some of the more colorful characters in town!” Jon Quill had regained something of his usual chipper attitude, but now he was actually paying attention to the other ponies around – hunting for signs of approaching trouble.

Valentina, pacing beside Cantor, frowned suddenly. “Hmm. But what about the library? Or finding help from one of the local magi?”

Cantor sighed. His mouth twisted up like he was tasting something sour and the furrow in his brow grew more pronounced. “For now can we just leave it at ‘I don’t want to do those things?’ Short version – I foresee much risk of critical delay and very little possibility of actual aid coming from it.” He paused and considered. “Maybe after Canterlot.” Cantor still sounded quite dubious about the prospect of securing any kind of arcane assistance here in Ponyville.

”I say, do you hear that?” Fairweather was looking around.

Valentina perked up, she had heard it too.

Somepony was rapidly approaching. They were shouting, “Spooky!” They sounded happy.

Cantor’s head jerked up and around. His expression was one of surprise.

There was a mare making a beeline for him. Thankfully she wasn’t pink. She was pale blue, with purple eyes, and a silvery-gray mane and tail. She was beaming with joy.

Cantor greeted her with a delighted cry of, “Goosey!” She bounced up and gave him a big hug.

Magpie (who was still laying on the ground, gasping and trying to recover herself) looked up in wide eyed surprise. ”Oy! Now I know Cantor didna jus’ call some filly a ‘goose!’ …” she frowned, “Well, that ‘r’ it don’t mean what it use ta, way back when ...” With Morari's help, Magpie began to get back up on her hooves.

“It’s so good to see you, Spooky!” The newcomer smiled and held on to Cantor‘s forelegs.

“It’s great to see you out and about, Loosey-Goosey!” Cantor replied.

“’Spooky?’” Jon muttered, raising an eyebrow.

Cantor chuckled. “Nickname. From way back. Jon Quill, Valentina, this is an old friend of mine. Her name’s Screw Loose.”

“We met in the asylum!” Screw Loose seemed quite pleased about it. “Cantor’s a really good fellow. Even if he is … uh … spooky!”

The three haunts exchanged amused glances at the thought that Cantor, due to their ghostly presence, was considerably ’spookier’ than many ponies might imagine.

“Oh!” Valentina smiled. “Nice to meet you.” She held out a hoof to shake. Screw Loose took it graciously.

“So, you worked at the hospital?” Jon asked her.

Cantor facehoofed.

“Nah!” Screw Loose beamed and held her hooves wide, striking a proud stance. “I was barking mad!”

Cantor gave her a pained look. He said, “Really? … Really? That was a terrible joke, Goosey.”

She grinned. Screw Loose’s words seemed to rush out at a galloping pace, “I’m … uh … much better now! I have my own home. And a job. The medicine and … uh … the magics are finally working reliably and consistently. I haven’t thought I was a dog in months! Not even during the … uh … full moon. And they haven’t had to put me in one of the soft rooms or jackets for even longer than that.”

Cantor grinned. “You’re still a good girl, Loosey. Always were, even then.”

She bumped her forehead against his shoulder affectionately and added, “And you’re a good pony, Spooky. I’m still not afraid of you. Never have been. Never will be.”

Cantor looked genuinely touched, perhaps even a little teary eyed, at that.

Screw Loose looked up at him with a smile. “Sorry if I’m a little manic. I get … uh … jittery sometimes. It’s the meds. You know how it goes. What brings you back to town?”

Cantor sighed. “I need to have a talk with my sister. You wouldn’t happen to know if she’s working today?”

Screw Loose nodded, “Oh yes! I saw her about … uh … fifteen, twenty minutes ago. I was just up at the hospital getting some pills.”

“Um … really?” Jon barely managed to stop himself from continuing on in a rather personal and highly impertinent flurry of questions.

Screw Loose nodded enthusiastically. She definitely had the jitters. It showed in her voice and in her body language. Her hooves couldn’t seem to stay still for long. “Yep! Allergy season. Had to … uh … get something to clear up my head. Stop sneezing.”

Jon and Valentina both looked a bit confused as to why a pony would go to the hospital for something as simple as allergies.

Screw Loose noticed their confusion. She chuckled and explained. “Me? I have to be careful before I just take a little something for the sniffles! Nothing over the counter. Might … uh … interact, you know? That could be bad. So I always make sure to check with my doctors and the pharmacist before I take anything. And when I take something new, or something I haven’t had in a while, I try to do it in … uh … whadayacallit … oh yeah, a controlled environment.”

Screw Loose turned her attention back to Cantor. “But yeah, Spooky, I was just speaking with your sis … I mean Nurse Redheart, a few minutes ago. She’s up at … uh … Ponyville General. She should be getting off work around six.” She grinned a bit more broadly, “I also see her every other Wednesday, just to make sure that everything is still going well. She’s nice! And great at … uh … home health care. She’ll be ever so glad you’re back, Spooky!”

Cantor’s answering smile was a little pained. “I sure hope so, Loosey. I sure hope so.”

There was a brief pause. The smile faded from Screw Loose’s face to be replaced by an expression of concerned worry. Her voice was pitched low as she added, “Spooky … if you need help …” Cantor shook his head but she continued anyway. “… they helped me. They’re getting better with this … uh … stuff all the time. They could help you too. You don’t have to live with voices in your head.”

Cantor patted her on the shoulder. He sounded a bit tired, “They’re not in my head, Loosey. Trust me.”

Screw Loose smiled and said. “O.k.!” Her tone was back to being bubbly.

Jon blinked and blurted out, “What?” He was a bit confused by the sudden, happy shift in her tone.

Screw Loose just stared at Jon quizzically. “If Spooky here says the voices aren’t … uh … in his head, I believe him. Don’t you?”

Valentina nodded. While Jon’s own “Well, yes … of course I do!” Caused Cantor to break into a grateful smile.

Screw Loose gave Cantor another quick hug and added, “Don’t let me hold you up Spooky! Will you be in town … uh … long?”

Cantor shook his head. “Sorry, Loosey Goosey. Maybe a day or two, but I’ve got places I need to go. Spooky friends to help out. Weirdness to deal with.”

Screw Loose made a sad face and said, “Aaaw!” But then she smiled, waved, and turned to trot away.

Cantor suddenly frowned. He held up a hoof to stop her and said, “Screw Loose, just a second.”

She looked up at him, her face settling into serious attentiveness at the sound of Cantor using her given name.

Cantor continued, “There’s a doctor who may come through town soon …”

She interrupted, a suspicious frown on her face, “A good doctor or a bad doctor?”

Cantor gave a wry smile, “Depends. Good for you, but very bad for me.”

Screw Loose nodded.

Cantor added, “If he asks, you haven’t seen me around here. You don’t know where I am, where I might be going, or what I might be doing.”

She nodded again. Screw Loose then cocked her head to one side. “He wants to put you in a soft room again?”

Cantor nodded. He added, “His name is Tarrant Fether.”

Screw Loose’s expression was serious. “Got it. Fether is a bad doctor. I tell him nothing!”

Cantor sighed in dismay. He continued, with a patient tone, “No, Loosey, Fether is a good doctor. He just …”

Screw Loose interrupted Cantor. “If he’s bad for you then he’s a bad doctor.” She spoke with great conviction. Screw Loose then shook her head as she turned to Jon and Valentina, “Spooky still … uh … makes everything way too complicated, doesn’t he?”

Magpie laughed and poked at Cantor. ”Oy! She does knows ya well, then, don’t she?”

Jon nodded. Valentina smiled and added, “I couldn’t have said it better myself, Loosey.”

Screw Loose gave an airy wave and said, “Ta!” Valentina returned the wave and added a “Ta!” of her own. Cantor and his friends watched Screw Loose trot away.

After a moment of silence, Cantor added, “Now there goes a small miracle. Who would have thought it? She’s doing so much better than back when ...” He trailed off. His friends could tell that he was deeply moved by this encounter. But then the joyous expression began to fade from his face. Valentina took his foreleg and gave it a squeeze.

Cantor hmm’d thoughtfully. He wore an expression which Valentina associated with rapid and careful thought. Cantor's tone, when he spoke a moment later, indicated he had come to a decision.

“O.k. ... Quick change of plans: time to do a bit of grocery shopping! Now I’m thinking that rather than track my little sister down at the hospital, I can get a dinner ready for us all at her place. One of my lasagnas can usually put Rosa in a good mood. And our conversation would probably be better held in private.”

“You cook?” Valentina was surprised. Jon Quill looked intrigued.

Cantor snorted. “Almost any pony who can follow the directions in a book of ritual magic well enough to cast a spell can follow a recipe! And lasagna is my specialty.”