THE TESTIMONIAL OF P.T. LYFANTOD — Testimonial

TWENTY FOUR

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AN UNSATISFACTORY CONCLUSION           It was nearly sunrise by the time Lyfantod finally stumbled home.  He was not sure when he'd last slept, weary to the bone, and within his flat it was almost as cold as it was without.  He bolted the door, kicked off his boots, hung up his coat, tossed his keys on his desk, lit a fire in the hearth, and went to rummage in his closet.  Finding he did not in fact possess a red cloth, in a stroke of sleepy inspiration he went to his laundry basket instead and retrieved a...

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TWENTY THREE

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THE HAND DEALT           “I don’t understand,” Horse growled as Lyfantod dragged her down the stairs at a run, holding tightly to her sleeve so that she was forced to come along or be dragged.  “We killed him.  Bones is dead.  That ought to be the end of it!”           “We made a mistake, god damn it!”  Lyfantod nearly stumbled as they burst out of the stairwell at speed, skidded round the corner, and hurtled down the hallway to the front doors.  “We—”           The scene that confronted them when they...

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TWENTY

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WAYLAID           Lyfantod was collecting snow.  If he was forced to stand much longer out on the sidewalk outside of Eroteme, they would have to dig him out of a snowdrift.  At the moment, however he didn't have much say in the matter.  He was locked in a silent showdown, exchanging glower for glower, with his old refrigerator-shaped friend, who was once again in a shirt several sizes too small for his bulging chest.  He had exchanged his Russian ushanka hat for a knit cap with snowflakes woven into it, now nearly lost beneath their non-decorative brethren.  There...

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EIGHTEEN

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TRIVIAL DETAILS           “We don't have a Headmaster,” said Flynn, observing that Lyfantod deflated a little as he said it.             “You don’t?”           “What I mean to say is we don’t call him that.  Barrows School is overseen by the Rector.”  He tipped his head to the side.  “Have you found something?”           “The Rector,” Lyfantod repeated slowly, trying out the feel of the new word.  “Huh.”           “They’re essentially the same thing,”  Flynn offered helpfully.    ...

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SIXTEEN

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UNEXPECTED MEETINGS           That miraculous note folded up and tucked carefully away in one of his jacket pockets, and the gruesome zombie heart he'd harvested from one of the fallen Mountain Men he prayed to God not leaking through the Witchdoctor's sack an uncomfortable weight in another, Lyfantod set out from The Weird Sisters to find a phone booth.  Barrows School was close enough that he could taste it, and he relished the pain he knew it would cause Moira McMorran to tell him how to get there.             His imagination ran...

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