I haven't been feeling very well, which is why I haven't posted much and don't have much energy to write, but hopefully soon I'll be better.

I'm better now, thankfully…

—–

–Morrigan–

I wonder if I've done the right thing, introducing Dorrie to Ky. Dorrie seems not to mind; they're chatting happily with each other. I just wonder about Ky. I don't know him well, and yet, his opinion seems to matter a lot to me. 
I get out my typewriter and start typing, but I'm making too many typos, so I go through the bookstore and organize. Soon we'll have to make the holiday display table, but I haven't got the energy to move furniture. 
Ky gets up to go, and as soon as he does, Dorrie comes over to me. 
"I think you like him," she says.
"Why?" I ask, feeling my cheeks go red.
"You do," she says. "You're reddening."
"Why do you think so?" I ask.
"You were looking up so much and fumbling with the typewriter. He thinks you're nice, and that you didn't make any sort of mistake introducing us. He likes talking about school with me," she says.
"That's good," I say. In my mind is Do you think it's both ways? but I'm not going to ask that. 

~Dorrie~

The holidays are approaching; on December 15, Kaitlyn is taking a train back to The City of Mountains and Snow (she's apparently excited to try different types of transport, despite that there is at least an added hour of the train slowly and surely climbing the mountains). We go to her hotel and help her pack up. 
"Dorrie?" she asks, having sent my parents down to the lobby with her stuff. 
"Yeah?" I ask.
"I was wondering if you could go to the ice machine and get some ice, just for my head, I'm afraid I hit it getting out of bed today." Kaitlyn's bed is tucked under the dresser in the hotel room, which is very high up. 
"I could," I say.
"Thank you so much for hosting," she says. I leave the room and go to the ice machine. There's a slight line; in front of me is an older man. He turns around and starts talking to me and then I realize who he is. 
"Mr. Erlenmeyer?" I ask.
"Yes," he says. "How's school?" 
"Okay," I say. "The new teacher is a bit strange," I add, telling him about it. 
"I should have known," he says. "Normally I sign the big school holiday cards, but this year I'm going to send individual ones to people I trust explaining what happened. Soon I'm going to move to a house in Beachside. Enjoy the winter." 
Then he turns to get his ice, and I think, You'd better hurry with those holiday cards. 

—–

All of the characters who attend City School (Violet, Celeste, Ezra, Dorrie, Cass, Holly, and Noelle [?]) may receive a card if you'd like them to. Basically, I'm thinking that the cards will be Mr. E explaining himself and the whole situation.

–Morrigan–

I try to write for about half an hour, but my thoughts are muddled, so I do one of the few things that I know will unmuddle them: I go for a walk to buy potatoes. I like purposeful errands. The feeling of thinking I am going to Tasty the grocer's to buy potatoes blocks out everything else. I buy the potatoes, and on the walk back I'm thinking about what I'm going to make. The streets are busy, and on my way I run into someone, as in literally walk into someone while carrying a sack of potatoes and thinking about gratin.
"Sorry," I say. The person has spun on their heel, so now they face side-on to me. The person seems familiar. 
"Do I know you?" I add. I do. The annoying thing about my star is that it doesn't give extra answers. I know them. It doesn't tell me who they are–that isn't covered by the question. If stars had personalities, this one would be as well-pressed as Mx. Alberts. That gets me back to thinking about the Zeithran Star…
"You do," says the person, jolting me out of my trance. "I was your science teacher." 
"Mr. E?" I ask. 
"None other," he says. 
"How's life?" I ask him, wondering what you're supposed to say when meeting someone you haven't seen for five years but aren't close to. I know all about his life, thanks to my research with Dorrie; my star fills in a few of the gaps for me. 
"Ah, life is life, isn't it?" he says, which is an answer that my star would never, ever give.

_Ky_

I've just finished meeting up with Morrigan and Dorrie (I think?) at the bookstore. I really think that Morrigan is a good person, and in fact, besides the Zeithran Star, she's in my thoughts most of the time.

I sit at the front of the cafe, my chin resting against the palms of my hand. I get a few customers, but most of the time, when there's no customers, I just let my thoughts wander on about the Zeithran Star, how Mr. Grebnesor is related to this, and all the other information I've collected so far.

Finally, my shift is over, and I leave the cafe to my co-worker. I walk out into the chilly winter air, and slowly take out the letter that was given to me by the Seeker some time ago. I sit down on the bench and examine it, scanning for more possible clues, but I don't get much out of it.

I return home to Beachside, where I see Celeste and Vi chatting about something. I hear a few snippets, about something to do with an evicted science teacher named Mr. Erlenmeyer, some things about the Zeithran Star, and etc. Vi spots me and waves me over.

"Hey, Ky!" she exclaims. "Nice to see you back from the bookstore and cafe. Found anything new?"

I shake my head. "Not much, besides something about this teacher named Mr. Grebnesor. Know anything about him?"

Celeste shrugs and shakes her head. "Not really, besides the fact that he's a teacher. I don't have him."

I nod and say, "Okay."

"Well, I got an assignment to do a research paper, so I decided to choose the Zeithran Star, to help you as well," Vi says. "Did you know that the folklore says that it supposedly grants temporary extra powers?"

"Extra powers?" I repeat.

"Yep. Come, sit down with me. I can tell you more about what I learned…" 

~Dorrie~

When we return from Solstice weekend (an exciting celebration in my family; we went to my grandma's house in The City of Desert and Rocks and lit candles and sang songs to the trees), Mr. Grebnesor has completely changed his tactic.
"I'm now a permanent teacher," he says to us right as soon as we come in. "So I'm going to lay out some rules. There will be a quiz once a week. No late homework. If you need any help, ask. If you don't need help, help others. No going to the bathroom, no eating, no medical emergencies, and no outside appointments during this class. Understand?" 
"Yes, Mr. Grebnesor," we all say.
"All right," he says. Then he launches right into a lesson about the periodic table, and for once I'm not thinking that science is cool. Maybe Mr. Grebnesor can only broadcast his thoughts when he doesn't need them for anything else. 

—

At home, there's a letter waiting for me. 
"I think this is a holiday card," says my mom, "but I can't be certain. It's from one of your teachers." 
"Okay," I say. I open it. Inside is a note: 

Dear Dorrie,
I'm very sorry that I had to leave school. A man named Casey Rosenberg is lusting after something I possess, and this something is the Zeithr—

And then there is an inkblot, or a spill, or something, but in all honesty, how many words begin with Z e i t h r?
So Mr. Grebnesor has the Zeithran Star. And Casey Rosenberg, probably Mr. Grebnesor, is trying to steal it. 
Also in the mailbox is a note that says, I have info for you. I'm sorry I can't see you this week, I'm busy with holiday selling at the bookstore. –Morrigan. I wonder what the info is.

–Morrigan–

Once a year, we have teambuilding at the bookstore. Not now, of course, it happens in the thick heat of the summer, but one of the questions August asked is in my mind:
If you were to get a tattoo, what would it say?
I hadn't known then, but I do now. It would say How's life?, the question mark embellished and flowy. Of course, I hate needles, so I don't think I ever will have a tattoo, but that would be it if I did.
And were I a spy, I would ask every single person I met that question, and I would learn much more than they'd ever tell me.
But I'm not a spy, I'm an almost-24-year-old who lives in a city and sells books. Selling books is quite the interesting business right now; people are doing holiday shopping, so there's one person at the cash register and another to help people find things. Right now, I'm at the register. My routine is something like this:
Accept the books from the person, scan them, ask how the person is going to pay, run the method of payment, give change, put bookmarks in the books, ask the person if they'd like a bag, give the person a bag if they want one, and express not-necessarily-true wishes that the person have a nice day, fun weekend, pleasant holiday, or happy New Year.
This is a bit tiresome; Riverside seldom has a line at the counter, but now it does. Noelle, who's working with me, notices my tiredness and says, 
"We can trade."
We do. I wander through the rooms of books until someone notices the badge on my dress. 
"You work here," they say. It's not a question.
"I do," I say.
"Where are books about the Zeithran Star?" the person says bluntly. 
"Over here," I say, leading them to a shelf. "What's your name?" 
The person pretends not to notice and examines the books, thumbs hooked in their suspenders (why?). But, of course, I know. 
Casey Rosenberg.

Ezra:
When I get home from school, there is a holiday card in the mailbox, the only thing inside.

 Well, that’s odd… It’s from Mr. Erlenmeyer, and says that Casey Rosenberg is after the Zeithran Star. 

There are some books I need to get for science class, so I grab my coat and shoulder bag and head out. At the bookstore, I check out the necessary books for a research paper and about the periodic table. 

Someone nearby, with a shifty look on their face is asking about the Zeithran Star and acting rude to the person at the cash register. What will books do for them? Do the books have the key to stealing the Zeithran Star? Is this Casey Rosenberg?

“Excuse me,” I say, pretending to reach for a book on the shelf. “Are you interested in the Zeithran Star too?” I smile, and they ignore me in response.

~Dorrie~

It's not until nighttime that I get to see Morrigan. My parents request that she take care of me and Orin while they have what they call "a night on the town"; I know they're going to a science lecture, but that's their idea of fun. 
Sensible, good-for-himself Orin brings his sleeping bag and a pillow, and simply goes to sleep in another room (Morrigan's living room) while me and Morrigan sit in the kitchen. 
"Food?" Morrigan asks me. 
"No thanks." She pours herself water from an electric kettle and puts a tea bag in it. Then she sits down. 
"So," says Morrigan. "I have a lot to tell you. To start, I saw Mr. Erlenmeyer, and he hasn't been evicted, but it turns out his landlord is Casey Rosenberg, who kicked him out when he couldn't pay for rent. Casey offered him the ownership of the house for the Zeithran Star, but it turns out that Mr. E had it for a while, as he had received a message in a dream, but it hadn't been doing anything. 
So Mr. E wouldn't give it up, and he moved to a house in Beachside, because for 24 hours he had the ability to find money inside any book he opened.
Anyway, Casey Rosenberg came to the bookstore, and that's basically all I have."
"I got a holiday card from Mr. E," I say, "but it had a stain on it." 
"Anyways," says Morrigan, "it's nearly nine. To bed with you." 
"To bed with me," I say, and obey her, curling up in a sleeping bag next to Orin.