Ok wow and awesome. You do have a certain person in mind right? Who is the person?

Oh. My. Gandalf.

Artemis, this is amazing. You are an incredible author. Your ski lodge is so spooky, yet so...enticing?

Anyway, I would like to say that when writing, you can just call me Echo; Hallowswift is my last name (not really, haha).

:)

Also, is there a chance I can have a sad reflection, just for the sake of drama?

Here's Lyra's diary entry!

Lyra Ackoff     Dec 28, 2022 

I'm nervous. I don't know who I can trust, especially those who are extremely outgoing and happy. I think that it is certainly not Darkvine, but the rest of them...I'm not so sure. It's not Echo, that's for certain--I hope...I'm honestly not sure about anyone. I try to act calm on the outside, but I can't help weeping when another one of our comrades dies in a grotesque or gruesome way. Celeste died. WiLdSoNg died. Azalea died. So many people have died already. I hate to admit it, but I'm scared and I miss Hawthorne. I'm not cut out to be a star adventurer or something. I've never been cut out for anything of the sort. I think I'm beginning to lose hope...

-Lyra Ackoff 

@Celeste: yes, unfortunately, that is the truth. ty~ (and that Darkvine drawing is so cool! :D)

@Darkling: cool beans! yes, that is the sort of thing Hex might say (although Calloway might too, of his own accord, in another dimension). ty and yw!!

@Hawkstar: thanks!! i don't quite understand your question -- do you mean, do I know who the murderer is? (or, well, who Calloway is pretending to be?) --if so, then yes I do! but i'm not saying >:D

@Echo: why, thank you so much !! spooky yet enticing is kinda exactly what I'm going for. and, actually, I am calling you Echo Hallowswift solely because I think it's a cool name in its entirety; though if you'd prefer me to call you just Echo, I will of course do so! --and as for Lyra's diary; yeah, that's all right, ig. i suppose Calloway's the sort of person who might go to the point of writing false diary entries, if he is impersonating Lyra, so it works.

part eight! the aftermath + more investigation

---

"She's dead," Sapphire said unnecessarily, backpedaling in the water. Her eyes swallowed Celeste whole. "All the stars in the sky, she's dead. She was just playing polo with us. She was just playing polo with us. She's dead."

"Get her out of the water," Hex said sharply. The murderer was gone. All that remained was a ripple on the water.

Amethyst and Strawberry followed Hex's orders; they managed to get Celeste's body back to shore and onto the sun-warm green grass.

"Is that Celeste?" Darkvine called from across the Lake, eyes wide. (Was that shock real, or was she the one who'd done it?) "Three moons, did the murderer just kill someone in broad daylight?" She swam quickly across the Lake to the opposite shore, where Hex and Eclipse were climbing out of the water, dripping and grim-faced. By the time she'd reached them, Pix had come out as well.

"Did you see who it was?" Darkvine demanded, brushing slick black strands of hair out of her eyes.

"No," Hex said, her green eyes calculating. "I didn't." She looked at the others. Eclipse shook her head; Pix and Sapphire did the same; Strawberry only cried harder; Amethyst said, "No"; and Poinsettia said, quiet.

"How could no one have seen?" Darkvine said, staring at Celeste, pale on the green grass. "How?"

"He's clever," Pix whispered.

"She's dead," a strained voice said behind them, and they turned to see Reuby, coming out of the Lake.

Darkvine scowled and looked out at the Lake. Artemis and Tilly were surfacing by the reeds and making for the shore, and Hawkstar, Darkling, and Lyra came back to air as she watched. Everyone who had been in the Lake -- except for the polo players -- was a suspect. In other words, everyone, except for Writing and Echo Hallowswift, and they were already innocent because they were dancers. Oh, and Celeste. Because she was dead.

Darkvine exhaled quickly, a hasty, shuddering sigh, and rebellious tears pricked her eyes.

Eventually, the stray swimmers returned, and it was WiLdSoNg and Ame again, except this time Celeste, this time in broad daylight, somehow unseen. Three people in one day. They had thought they were safe. They had all been in one place, and there were no shadows to hide in, but somehow he had managed it again. I am sure they all hated me, if they didn't already.

They were all frozen around Celeste, unable to move through shock or fear or just plain sadness. They had already buried three people in two days.

Their silence was broken by laughter, a strange, incongruous sound that came from the Castle behind them. Sapphire and Eclipse looked back, and there were Writing and Echo Hallowswift, the latter carrying a small purple-bound book, the former wearing xyr sparkly white demonias again. Everyone watched as Echo Hallowswift lifted a finger, frowned, said something to Writing, watched as both CBers ran across the sun-gleaming grass and learned Celeste was dead.

"I guess we have to bury her," Tilly whispered.

Writing, breathing hard from his run across the grass, said, "...yeah." They stared at Celeste, hands on their knees. "You didn't see who did it? How--?"

"No one saw," Hex said. She pointed to a spot in the Lake, and added, "They vanished right afterwards."

"And they were trying to frame Reuby," Hawkstar added grimly. Lyra started to cry.

You know how it works by now. They dried off, and buried Celeste in the pines next to Azalea and WiLdSoNg and Ame, and went back inside for a quiet lunch consisting mostly of sandwiches and pineapple. Then they went to the library, to read and discuss theories.

Darkvine, Hex, Sapphire, Echo Hallowswift, and Writing gathered in a circle of matching maroon armchairs, The Prisoner on the round coffee table in between. Darkvine pulled out her notes and updated them with Celeste's new, terrible innocence. She also called over Pix, and they questioned her on the tea-bringing murderer's appearance.

"Did you see anything?" Echo Hallowswift asked, grey eyes earnest and serious. "Anything at all?"

Pix thought hard, rubbing her forehead. "I don't know... it was really dark."

"Look, here," Darkvine said, setting out her list of suspects. "It could have been Lyra, Artemis, me, Hawkstar, Poinsettia, Reuby, or Tilly. Did they look anything like one of them? How tall? How was their hair cut? Anything."

"Well, they were pretty tall," Pix said. "Obviously you're all pretty tall, compared to me, but they weren't short." She frowned thoughtfully at Darkvine, who frowned back, in exactly the same manner. "I don't think they looked like you."

"Well, splendid," Darkvine said, and made a note. "Thanks."

After Pix's testimonial, they opened up Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. It was dog-eared on page one hundred and one. Sapphire, holding the tattered paperback open in her lap, smoothed over the corner carefully. "She thought she was going to be able to finish it."

"Didn't we all," Hex said tiredly. "Give it here." She held out a hand, and Sapphire handed it to her.

Hex flipped through the book, scanning the pages quickly. "There's nothing here," she said after a moment. "it's just a book she was reading when she died. It's not going to tell us who killed her." She tossed it back onto the coffee table.

Darkvine sighed. "Well, then what is?"

Writing grabbed the page of notes where Darkvine had laid it on the table, and looked it over. "Let's go over the suspects," xe said, "and figure who we think is the most likely."

"That's better than nothing, I guess," Hex said. "Who's first?"

"Lyra," Writing read, sounding a bit skeptical.

"Lyra?" Echo Hallowswift repeated, raising her eyebrows. "She's scared and grieving. She's not the one doing this."

"No, she isn't," Darkvine said. "Calloway is. We're trying to figure out if he's pretending to be Lyra, not if Lyra is murdering anyone." She scrubbed a hand wearily through her black-and-green hair. "If he's pretending to be Lyra, Lyra is already dead. He killed her that night in the library."

"That's our theory, anyway," Sapphire said quickly, at the look on Echo's face. "It's entirely possible we've got something wrong."

"That's what Hawkstar and Reuby think," Hex said, glancing over to where the two CBers stood by a tall scarlet bookshelf.

"Who do they think it is?" Writing said, peering over Darkvine's notes at their rival detectives.

"I don't know," Darkvine said. "They didn't say."

"Anyway," Writing said. "Next. Artemis."

"She's pretty quiet," Sapphire remarked. "Maybe that's Calloway trying not be found."

"She's writing this thing," Hex pointed out. "How ironic would it be if she, who is Calloway IRL, turns out to be Calloway in the story, too?"

"Ironic," Darkvine replied. She made a note. "Who else?"

"Um," Writing said. "You."

Darkvine scoffed. "Me!"

"Except --" they squinted at Darkvine's handwriting "--'obviously I'm innocent, but they don't know that. Also Pix says the tea girl wasn't short.'"

"Precisely," Darkvine said. "Next."

"Hawkstar?"

Darkvine tapped her pen against her chin thoughtfully. "Perhaps, perhaps... She is the one who found Azalea. And she and Reuby are the ones proposing that Calloway isn't really the murderer."

"Then there's Poinsettia," Writing added.

Sapphire pressed her lips together. "Oh dear. I hope not."

"We hope it isn't anyone," Hex said. "But obviously it is. So -- has Poinsettia been acting unusual lately?"

"No!" Sapphire said. "Well. I mean. We all are, aren't we? People are dying. But she seems genuinely upset."

"Maybe Calloway is, too," Echo Hallowswift observed. "Maybe he's doing this against his will."

"He seemed pretty okay with the idea of his guests dying in the intro," Hex pointed out. "'There will be murder' and all that."

"Maybe it was a warning," Echo said reasonably.

"She has a point," Darkvine said, "but it doesn't really matter, like the question of why. We need to find who he's impersonating, and then we can deal with our resident murderer's hurt feelings, and his motives."

"There's Reuby, too," Writing offered.

"She's also an intuitive suspect," Darkvine mused. "She's Hawkstar's Watson -- or her Holmes, anyway. But it seems too obvious. I think someone framed her."

"And there's Tilly," Writing said. He swished his pointed tail absently. "She's really quiet too."

"We ought to interrogate them all," Echo Hallowswift said. "Then we'd have more to go on."

"That would just scare everybody," Sapphire protested. "No one wants to be thought a murderer."

"But by virtue of the situation, everyone is being thought a murderer," Hex said. "This will help us narrow it down."

"Let's see what Pix says," Darkvine said. "She's done this before."

"Yeah, and while we're at it we can talk to her, too," Hex added thoughtfully. "She knows something about the murderer that she's not telling us."

"Because it's not important to the investigation!" Sapphire insisted. "She obviously has some attachment to him, Calloway or not, and we don't need to go digging up all her skeletons in the closet when 'Danny' is already manufacturing them as fast as we can bury them!" Her voice broke on the last words, and she dropped her head into her hands, her slender fingers raking through her dark wavy hair.

Hex sighed and, after a moment, stood up, walking over to put her arm around Sapphire. "You're right. We'll leave Pix alone."

Sapphire lifted her tear-stained face from her hands and looked at Hex, her bluebell eyes rimmed in red. "But not the others."

"We have to find the murderer," Hex said seriously. "We're never going to do that if we can't talk to the people we think are doing it."

Sapphire hesitated, then nodded. "Okay."

For a second Hex smiled, a slight sad smile, and then she straightened and said, "All right. Let's talk to the suspects."

"Do we still think it's Darkling?" Hawkstar asked.

Reuby said, "I don't know. There's still the problem of how they would kill Azalea if she was in the library and they were in the ballroom. Maybe they did leave at one point."

"Reuby looked over at where Darkvine and company were theorizing, without really seeing them. "Did you see them after Celeste was killed?"

"Yeah," Hawkstar said. "They're usually pretty hard to read, but I'd say they were surprised. Who wouldn't be? Even when we know there's a murderer, we still have no idea when they'll strike, and certainly don't expect people to be murdered in the middle of a polo game. I don't know. Maybe we should talk to them, find out what they know. It sounds like Darkvine and Hex and Echo and all are going to talk to their suspects. Maybe we should talk to ours."

The woods were dark and quiet, the wind whispering in the trees, the sky a jigsaw-jagged piece of blue stitched with the dark branches of the tall pines. Lyra sat by the graves, cross-legged, the wind playing with her long blue braid. She'd found some azalea flowers, though it was probably entirely the wrong season for them, and laid them on Azalea's grave. They would wilt, of course, and by the time they had, there would probably be still more graves in that desolate row in the pines.

Footsteps, crackling in the underbrush. Lyra started and whirled around -- she shouldn't be out here alone, with a murderer about. It was Artemis, and Lyra relaxed when she saw the other was just as surprised to see Lyra as Lyra was to see her.

"You shouldn't be out here alone," Artemis remarked, reflecting Lyra's thoughts. She walked over. She'd put her gray cloak back on, in retaliation to the chilly wind -- the temperamental Castle had suddenly decided to turn wintry again.

"Neither should you," Lyra said in reply.

Artemis sat down beside her, looking at the graves. "Especially since you're supposed to be a suspect."

"Well, so are you," Lyra said.

Artemis smiled a little, but it faded fast, like the azalea flowers would. "Yeah."

After a moment, Lyra said, "I wish we'd never come here. I mean -- it's beautiful, and all, and it's cool going places besides the CB, but --"

"Everyone is being murdered?" Artemis suggested.

"...Yeah. I guess that's what happens in ski lodges." Lyra readjusted her beret; the wind had knocked it askew. "They're so rarely finished, though, at least nowadays. So you never get see what happens -- if the good guys prevail, and figure out who the murderer is, and all. Maybe that will happen here."

"Yes," Artemis agreed thoughtfully. "I wonder." She tilted up her chin to look at the sky. "If I never finish this, will that count as surviving? Will -- in the story, I mean -- will we stay here forever, frozen in time in this Castle that doesn't exist? Or will this world just vanish, with no one to read it? Does it matter?"

"I don't know," Lyra said. "What are stories without their readers?"

"You're fictional," Artemis mused. "So is Strawberry, Sapphire, Tilly -- so was Ame. So is Pix, and Calloway. And all the CBers are fictional versions of themselves."

"Yeah, I guess," Lyra said. "But this is a story, and in the story we're all real."

"Exactly."

They were quiet after that, just two girls sitting by their friends' graves in a forest by a Castle by a Lake. If there were no graves to lay azaleas on, it would have been a beautiful day.

Because I'm not-fantastic at drawing, I've been practicing, and this ski lodge if pretty inspiring so-- I drew Writing in xyr party outfit, dancing (rough sketch):

@Darkling: ooh cool !! i have to say, i never expected this ski lodge to inspire art, but there you go. it's awesome.

@luna silvermoon: Tilly doesn't make a cameo appearance in this part, but when she does, I'll write in her suspicions :} also, does she have magic?? and if so, what sort of things can she do?

here is yet more, Hawkstar. very dramatic, this. (the ending, anyway. i love dramatic endings *malicious cackle*) i give you part nine--

---

Lyra fiddled with a loose string on her sleeve. She disliked being the center of attention for a good reason, let alone the fact that a few CBers and a fellow AE thought she was a murderer. She was a terrible mess of nerves. She disliked being a terrible mess of nerves.

Hex began, bringing Lyra's eyes to her face, "Okay. We--"

"Do not think you are the murderer," Echo Hallowswift interjected. "Just -- making that clear." She smiled at Lyra, a somewhat-helpless, trying-to-be-comforting smile. "This is just a precaution."

Lyra returned Echo's smile, but her CBer's comfort was chilled by Writing's next words, which were, "Actually, it kind of isn't. Lyra was one of the people in the library when Azalea was killed. She doesn't have an alibi." His two-colored eyes met Lyra's, and he said, "Sorry."

"No, I understand," Lyra said, but Echo Hallowswift said, "We aren't certain anyone else has an alibi, either. Most of our alibied CBers are so because they were supposedly in the ballroom when Azalea was murdered. But we can't know that for sure, especially since we don't know exactly when she was killed. Someone could have easily slipped away to the library without anyone noticing."

Darkvine straightened her notes. "We've agreed that it's most likely one of the readers," she said. "We don't know anything for sure. For all we know, Hawkstar and Reuby are right, and it's not Calloway at all. But we have to go on some assumptions if we can get anywhere." She turned back to Lyra. "Sorry. We're new at this."

Lyra managed a smile. "I can kind of tell."

"Anyway," Hex said, "we have a few questions, as you might have guessed by the word 'interrogation.' You went to the library after Pix told everybody it existed, right?"

"Right," Lyra said. "I did. I was with Tilly."

Darkvine leaned forward, interested. "Did you stay with her the whole time? If we can --"

"No," Lyra said, "eventually we separated, looking for different books in the library. I found mine after a while -- it was shelved between Scarlet and a book about the behavioral patterns of gray wolves -- and, well, I read it. Then --"

"Wait a second," Writing said. "What book were you reading?"

"That's not exactly important to the investigation, is it?" Echo Hallowswift objected. "It doesn't matter what she was reading, just that she was somewhere else when the murder happened."

"Details, Watson," Darkvine said sagely, "details. What we're really looking for is how she reacts when we ask her the questions, not the answers she tells us. Anyone can say they were reading, but someone telling the truth remembers the details; a liar has to make something up, and that's when you can catch them." She looked back at Lyra, who leaned back a little. Darkvine's glowing eyes were especially ominous when she was conducting an interrogation, like the gleaming emerald-colored eyes of some magical sorceress with questionable morals demanding to be told where her Circlet of Diamonds was; when in other situations she had mostly just reminded Lyra of a cat caught in a flashlight. "What book were you reading?"

"Um. It was... White Fang, I think? Or maybe Call of the Wild? I'm not sure. Everything after that -- Azalea, and everything -- it was just so fast and honestly scary, I don't remember much from before it. It's just --" Lyra closed her eyes and inhaled, pressing a hand over her forehead. When she opened them again, her voice was quieter. "It's just her."

No one needed to ask who her was. Only one girl had been murdered that night. (Well, two, actually. But they didn't find the first one.)

"Okay," Darkvine said. "We've got what we need. You can go."

"Thanks," Lyra said, and she stood and was gone. Echo Hallowswift cast a nervous glance at the other four, and then stood and followed her AE. "Lyra --"

The remaining four looked at each other.

"Well, what do we think?" Writing asked.

"I don't know," Sapphire said thoughtfully. "It really all depends on how good of an actor this Calloway person is. She seemed genuinely saddened by Azalea's death."

"Maybe Calloway is, too," Hex said. "Just 'cause he's an evil shapeshifter doesn't mean he doesn't have feelings."

"We've been over this," Darkvine said. "We can't know what Calloway is feeling or thinking or whatever. All we have is this -- Lyra's testimony, and our brains."

"I think she's telling the truth," Sapphire said.

Writing hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah."

Hex considered it for a moment. "Well... yes, probably."

Darkvine nodded, and wrote it down.

"You were in the library?" Darkvine asked.  "I never saw you."

"She was. She and Azalea went there first of all. Aza wanted a bit of peace and quiet, and Artemis seemed to know her way around the Castle." Hex said these words to Darkvine, but her eyes were on Artemis. The look in them was not cruel or cold, but it had a certain calculating piercing way about it that made Artemis rather uncomfortable. "That's right," she said.

"Hmm," Darkvine said, and made a note.

"And did you stay together?" Sapphire asked. Darkvine looked up at this. It was just as valid a question for Artemis as it had been for Lyra -- except, this time a 'yes' would be incriminating, instead of legitimizing her innocence.

"No," Artemis said. "Well -- yes, at first. I wanted to be certain she was okay -- she seemed a bit dazed in the ballroom -- but she was all right. She found The Prisoner of Azkaban, and I had wanted to read The Goblet of Fire, but they weren't shelved together. I suppose that's my fault," she added in afterthought. "Anyway, I found it at last, and I read it. It was Hawkstar who found me and told me about Azalea." She exhaled, tugging absently at a stray strand of dark hair.

Writing and Sapphire exchanged glances, and the former said carefully, "What chapter were you on?"

"I've no idea. It was the part where Harry tells Cedric about the dragons." Artemis glanced between the glancers. "Can I -- can I go now?"

"I suppose," Darkvine said, glancing over her notes. (It's all the rage, glancing, nowadays.)

"Spectacular," Artemis said, although her tone did not match her word choice. She left them.

"How about that?" Hex asked.

"Fairly sus?" Darkvine offered. "I still feel like it might be Hawkstar, but she's a contender too."

"She seemed real," Sapphire said. "But... yeah. Those could be Calloway's emotions, not genuine grief or nerves."

Writing assented. "More so than I thought. I didn't know she and Azalea went to the library before everyone else."

"Agreed," Hex said. "Who's next?"

Darkvine looked at her notes. "Me." When she looked up, she found Hex looking calculating again, and Sapphire vaguely uncomfortable, and Writing apologetic. "Oh, come on!" she said. "You don't honestly think it's me?"

"We didn't think it was Lyra, either," Sapphire pointed out. "We still questioned her."

"...Fine. Go ahead."

"Um," Sapphire said. "What book were you reading, Darkvine, because details?"

"Moon Rising," Darkvine said. "Then Hawkstar showed up and told me Azalea was murdered, and I went to tell the dancers. Later, Ame and WiLdSoNg were killed in the night. Then Celeste was killed. In broad daylight. I was just as shocked as everyone else, every time. I'm not the murderer. Can we move on?"

"Sure," Hex said, but Darkvine didn't miss the way her sharp green eyes lingered on Darkvine's glowing ones. The others probably didn't think it was her, but the fact remained that Calloway would also want them to move on and stop suspecting, just as much as an innocent person would. Her repeated insistence that it wasn't her was only another reason to think it was her. There was no way to be blameless.

"You found Azalea, right?" Writing asked.

"Yes," Hawkstar said shortly.

"That must've been awful," Sapphire said sympathetically.

Hawkstar nodded and sighed.

"Who do you think it is?" Darkvine asked abruptly, her green eyes narrowing.

Hawkstar met her eyes, paused. "Darkling," she said at length.

Darkvine looked at her notes. "They're innocent. They have an alibi."

"Maybe," Writing added. "They are already quite odd and enigmatic and all that. We might not notice as much of a difference in them as we would in someone else, if Calloway impersonated them."

"If it is Calloway," Hawkstar interjected. 

Sapphire frowned at her. "Pix said --"

"Why should we trust Pix any more than Calloway?" Hawkstar asked. "Why should we not trust Calloway?" 

"Well, for one thing, he--" Sapphire began.

"Guys -- lizards -- calm down," Hex said, holding out her hands. "We don't know. Maybe Hawkstar's right. Maybe Darkvine's wrong, or maybe she isn't. Maybe we're all wrong. We don't know. Arguing isn't going to help us. We're all being murdered right now, even if we have different opinions on who, exactly, is doing it. This is what the murderer wants."

"She's right," Writing said. "We can't start distrusting each other, despite everything. We just have to be careful."

Hawkstar sighed and nodded. "Yeah."

"Let's move on," Darkvine said. "You can go, Hawkstar."

Hawkstar did so without a word, her hazel eyes narrowed.

"Who's next?" Writing asked.

"Poinsettia," Hex read, looking over Darkvine's shoulder at their list.

Writing stood. "I'll go find her. But, for the record, I don't think she's Calloway," xe added, circumnavigating Darkvine's chair and walking away into the depths of the library.

They took an unusually long time to return. At four-ten, Sapphire wondered absently if Writing had found a particularly engrossing book and was curled up in a chair somewhere, mission forgotten. At four-fifteen, she thought Poinsettia might have left the library. She'd seen Pix and Strawberry slip away to the kitchens earlier, presumably to make something resembling a light dinner. Had Poinsettia gone with them?

At four-thirty, it crossed her mind that, perhaps, Writing had been murdered. She opened her mouth to voice this theory to the others -- Hex and Darkvine were deep in discussion; Echo Hallowswift had never returned after going after her rather-distraught AE -- but before she could, Writing xyrself appeared, panting, xyr hands on xyr knees.

His sudden appearance jerked Hex from her conversation, and she demanded, "What is it? What happened?"

"Poinsettia. Come on, we have to get Pix -- help, or something. Gosh, I wish we were someplace where you could call ambulances." Still breathing hard, Writing brushed their wrist across their forehead. "Someone tried to kill her. She's dying, Sapphire."

Sapphire was shattered into pieces, adrift, lost, hardly processing Writing's words. Desperate, she clung to the blessed present tense. Dying. Not dead. Her CBer's life was still salvageable. "Come on, let's go."

As they ran, breathless, through the library, to another girl who was dying surrounded by stories, it occurred to Sapphire that, possibly, their investigations were over. Poinsettia was alive. Somehow, the murderer had fumbled something, and she hadn't died a quick death like Celeste had, like Sapphire hoped Ame and WiLdSoNg had. Poinsettia was dying, but she was alive. She'd seen her attacker.

She knew who the murderer was.

This is awesome! Seriously. It's so well written and it's impressive you're getting it out this fast! I haven't even finished the plot for my co-written ski lodge...

And here are some Deductions~ 

It's been reasoned that it has to be Lyra, Artemis, Darkvine, Celeste, Hawkstar, Poinsettia, Reuby, Tilly, and Azalea because they were in the library. It can't be Azalea because she's dead (it could be Poinsettia, stabbing herself, however unlikely that might seem). And probably not Artemis because she's writing the ski lodge. So that would leave Lyra, Darkvine, Celeste, Hawkstar, Poinsettia, Reuby, and Tilly.

However, it's probably someone who was dancing (can't quite remember who that would entail), because the dancing alibi is pretty obvious in ruling out suspects—there's probably a loophole somewhere.

And I'm further reasoning that it's probably me (Hex), or Reuby, because we were both narrators before Calloway killed his first victim to impersonate, meaning we could have authentic thoughts before we turned into Calloway. This line of thinking is probably over-thinking because I'm sure Artemis/Calloway could find a way to write it well anyway (and if there are enough parts such that everyone narrates twice, this wouldn't matter), but it's still possible that it has been taken into account.

Further suspicions to Reuby and Hex is that it was Reuby's knife—and the murderer said they "took it from Reuby's boot" which could be interpreted as Reuby taking it from her own boot. For Hex, she looked at Azalea's Prisoner's of Azkaban and said there wasn't anything special about it, which could be to cover it up because nobody else checked. And the way of speech of the murderer, like Darkling said, could fit for Hex (or for others, I suppose). But of course, I'm biased because it would be cool if I was the murderer...

I'm probably overthinking this, and Artemis/Calloway is probably laughing at my efforts, but oh well :)

Hmmm most intruging. Do you have a rough idea how many parts this will have?

This ski lodge is excellent, so far! So mysterious and exciting.

Well, I think that either I'm dead next, because I ran off to find Lyra, or Lyra's dead. *Pleasenotmepleasenotmepleasenotme*

I'm not sure if this is correct, but those are my thoughts.

I'm going to be retiring Lyra after this, so this is her last ski lodge. :(

Anyway, no diary excerpts today, sorry.

:( 

@Hex: thanks, for the compliment and the deductions!

@Hawkstar: none at all, i'm afraid. i know what the ending's going to be, but i don't know how much middle there is, or what exactly it entails.

@Echo Hallowswift: ty! we shall see; Poinsettia dies in this part, but who knows who is next?

part ten! i haven't edited this, so apologies for any incoherence/typos/whatever...

---

They found Poinsettia lying by a narrow shelf full of books in varying shades of burgundy. Ski lodgers had gathered around her, shocked and murmuring. Someone had fetched Pix and Strawberry from the kitchens, and now the latter knelt by Poinsettia, clasping her hand. Artemis pressed her fingers to Poinsettia's other wrist, looking distant and stricken. Poinsettia herself looked barely conscious.

Sapphire rushed to her CBer's side and brushed the dark hair out of Poinsettia's eyes. She said her name, or tried to. "Can you hear me?" she whispered.

Poinsettia's eyelashes fluttered, and she turned her head to the side. She whispered, barely audible, something that sounded like Sapphire's name. The aforementioned AE looked around at the others, said, "Come on! We have to save her."

"I don't know if we can," Pix said. "I --"

"She's seen the murderer," Hex interrupted, coming to Sapphire. "We have to save her -- not just for our sake, but for all of ours."

"How?" Strawberry said, her large green eyes fixed unwaveringly on Poinsettia. "I don't know how to heal a wound --"

"We have to stop the bleeding," Hex said authoritatively.

"W-we don't have bandages," Tilly stuttered through her tears.

"No bandages? Are you a witch or not?" Hex said sharply, and Tilly stared at her, agape, for a moment, before rushing to Poinsettia's side. A little gingerly, she pressed her hands over the other girl's wound. Poinsettia gasped, her slender eyebrows scrunched together, and Tilly winced, but didn't pull away. Everyone watched, motionless, while Tilly spoke under her breath, brow furrowed in concentration.

Amethyst appeared, pushing through the crowd to stand by Tilly's shoulder, panting. "How -- Poinsettia? What's --"

"Shh," Eclipse said, holding a finger to her lips. "Tilly's doing magic to save her life."

"But -- but why does it need saving?" Amethyst spluttered, looking around at the crowd, then back to Poinsettia. "Did someone stab her? Did -- did we see who it was?"

"No," Writing said. "I just -- I was looking for her, and I found her like this. But --" He glanced at Darkvine. "It couldn't have been Darkvine. We know that now; she and Hex and Sapphire were waiting for me to come back so that we could question Poinsettia. It couldn't've been Strawberry either. Or Pix, for that matter. So --" Xe were interrupted by Tilly, who exhaled sharply, frustrated, and exclaimed, "I can't!"

Everyone looked at her. Lyra insisted, "Tills, you have to try to--"

"Someone's fighting my magic," Tilly said. Eyes narrowed, she looked around at the ski lodgers closest. Sapphire, Hex, Amethyst, Pix, Artemis. "Everyone -- back off a little."

"You can't think --" Sapphire started, but Tilly cut her off. "Don't touch Poinsettia, and I can be certain it isn't you. This kind of magic requires the magician to be close."

Sapphire sighed and stood up a little ways away from Poinsettia; Hex followed suit. Pix and Artemis relinquished Poinsettia's hands, Amethyst merged with the crowd, and they all watched Tilly as she returned to her magic. "She's lost so much blood," Tilly murmured. "I don't know if I can--"

Poinsettia coughed and said something, too soft for anyone to hear.

"What?" Tilly said, distracted. "Poinsettia?"

"It's --" Poinsettia managed. "It's -- the murderer -- it's..."

Tilly leaned closer. "Who? Poinsettia --"

Poinsettia whispered, "Darkling." Or "Darkvine." It was something that began with a "dark" and ended with an "ine" or an "ing", but she spoke so softly it was hard to make out. Anyway, her eyes closed after that, and she seemed fairly unconscious all around, and Tilly cursed under her breath and started her spell again.

"Did she say 'Darkvine?'" the eponymous asked, staring.

"She said 'Darkling,'" Hawkstar insisted, looking to the so-named CBer.

"I'm not the murderer," Darkling said, as if it were common knowledge. "But I suppose that is not very useful information, considering that's exactly what the murderer would say. Besides, Darkvine thinks you're the murderer."

"I don't!" Darkvine said, and then amended, "Okay, I do. But you're only one on a list of suspects, Hawkstar."

"A list that, if I'm not mistaken, excludes myself?" Darkling asked. 

"...Yes," Darkvine said. "But not myself."

Sapphire glanced from Poinsettia's still face, to Darkling's characteristically difficult-to-decipher one, to Darkvine's troubled one. "I don't know," the latter said. "It could be Calloway used his famous magic to force Poinsettia to say that. To throw us off his scent."

"It could be that you're saying that to throw us off your scent," Hex reasoned.

"I know," Darkvine said. "Except I'm not. Besides, how could I have killed Poinsettia? I was waiting for Writing to come back. It's already been covered: I've been proved innocent."

"Well --" Hawkstar started, but Tilly interjected. "Lizards." The others looked at her.

"What?" Sapphire and Amethyst demanded at the same time.

Tilly rubbed her forehead, the way Pix did when she was anxious. "I --"

"She's dead, isn't she," Artemis said, fractured, and the others looked to where Poinsettia lay on the carpet, bleeding. She was motionless. She didn't look that different than she had a moment before, in mortal peril, but she had been alive--

Sapphire's mouth formed the shape of Poinsettia's name, and she knelt and pressed two fingers to Poinsettia's neck, where her pulse should have been. She didn't say anything, because her face spoke for itself.

Amethyst began to cry. So did Strawberry, and Artemis, and Tilly, a little; everyone else was either too shocked or numb to do more than stare and fear.

They buried Poinsettia, and then the council reconvened in the dining room. They had something resembling a light dinner, though most people didn't have much of an appetite. Then Darkvine sat at the head of the table, in Pix's empty chair (she had gone to ready the ballroom for sleep), and she announced, "We have to figure out who the murderer is. I mean. Obviously. But in light of new evidence, I've decided we need to hear from everyone, and refine our theory."

"Your theory," Reuby corrected.

Darkvine's eyes flicked to hers. "Right. Okay. So." She spread out her page of notes on the polished table. "We know that Azalea was killed while Echo Hallowswift, Hex, Eclipse, Sapphire, Darkling, Writing, Amethyst, and Strawberry were ostensibly in the ballroom."

"But we've agreed that we can't ascertain that," Hex interjected, and Darkvine nodded. "Precisely. Next order of business: we've deduced that the murderer is probably Calloway."

Hawkstar said sharply, "We have no reason to trust Pix's word."

"Yes, well, it's the best we have to go on right now," Darkvine said, slightly snappishly. "It makes sense. We can't prove it for sure, obviously. But it makes sense. Moving on."

"Ame and WiLdSoNg were killed in the night," Writing said. "But that could've been anyone, really. It's still possible Pix could've mistaken Darkling's voice for a girl's, when the murderer gave her tea."

"Then Celeste was killed," Darkvine said. "Somehow, without any of us seeing who threw the knife that killed her."

"Sapphire, Amethyst, Strawberry, and me were playing polo with them when she was killed," Hex said. "But it was pretty chaotic -- someone might've managed to throw a knife while we were doing it. Sapphire and Amethyst were too close to her to have thrown the knife from the angle it came from, though. So it wasn't them."

"Writing and I weren't even there," Echo offered. "We were getting Azalea's book."

"Right," Darkvine said. "Then, when Poinsettia was stabbed --"

"You and Hex and I were waiting for Writing to come back with her," Sapphire said, her voice lachrymose. "So it couldn't've been us."

"No," Tilly agreed. "The wound was way too recent for any of you to have done it beforehand, even."

"Strawberry and Pix were in the kitchen then," Reuby added.

"Then things get complicated," Eclipse said. "Um. Tilly tried to heal Poinsettia with her magic, but someone was stopping her -- she said it had to be someone close by, but we were all gathered around her, so arguably we were all close by." She glanced at Tilly.

"That's right," Tilly said. "But it's easier the closer you are -- wounding and healing magic, I mean. Physical magic."

"You know best, I suppose," Darkvine said.

"Then Poinsettia said the murderer was you," Darkling said. "Or me. There has been some debate on that front."

"She must have been saying 'Darkling,'" Hawkstar said. "We've just established that Darkvine could not have wounded Poinsettia. Well, if we're operating under the assumption that there's only one murderer."

"Which we are, because we think it's Calloway and Pix says he doesn't take on accomplices," Darkvine said. "So who does that leave, as a suspect?"

"I," Darkling said. "Also, Tilly herself."

"Hawkstar," Tilly said, glancing at the CBer with blue eyes narrowed. "Who is actively trying to convince us all that it's not Calloway. And who discovered Azalea."

"Typical Calloway behavior," Hex said dryly, before Hawkstar could say anything indignant. "There's Reuby, too."

"It was my knife that killed Celeste," Reuby acknowledged.

"Me too, I think," Artemis said.

"And me," Eclipse added."

"And I'm still a suspect, aren't I?" Lyra said, slightly nervous.

"Yes," Darkvine said. She scribbled down these new observations on the back of her page. "Here is the Compiled Evidence, folks: the Innocent include Azalea, Ame, WiLdSoNg, Celeste, and Poinsettia, because they were killed. Sapphire and Amethyst, because they were playing polo with Celeste when she was killed, and couldn't've thrown the knife. Also, Sapphire could not have stabbed Poinsettia. Writing and Echo, because they were fetching Azalea's book. Hex, because she was waiting for Writing to come back with Poinsettia. Strawberry and Pix, because they were in the kitchens at the time of Poinsettia's stabbing."

"And the Suspects?" Hex prompted.

"Darkling: was in the ballroom, but Poinsettia, who was possibly under enchantment, says it's them. So do Hawkstar and Reuby, coincidentally." Darkvine's glowing green eyes flicked over the latter two inquisitively. They stared stonily back. "Tilly: was doing the magic to save Poinsettia, but possibly that was a ruse. Reuby: owned the knife that killed Celeste, also says the murderer is not Calloway. Hawkstar: says the murderer is not Calloway, and found Azalea when she was killed. Eclipse: has no particular evidence for or against her, except she was supposedly in the ballroom at the time of Azalea's death. Artemis: took Azalea to the library. And who is also, fun fact, writing this thing." Darkvine cast a dark look in Artemis' direction. It was unclear whether it was one of suspicion or of distaste for the latter's methods of second-handedly (or first-handedly, I suppose, if she is me) killing people off. "Lyra: no particular evidence for or against, except she's nervous. Although, I have to say, Calloway doesn't strike me as the nail-biting anxious type."

Lyra looked even nervous-er at these words. To be fair, most everyone did, when Darkvine read off the evidence against them -- except for Darkling, who did not display nervousness out of habit, and Eclipse, whose only incriminating feature was a stack of nonexistent alibis.

"And there you have it," Darkvine said. "Let's go around and share our suspicions, shall we?"

"Is that really a good idea?" Echo Hallowswift said dubiously. "Won't that make everyone, like, distrustful and angry and divisive? Isn't that exactly what we're trying to avoid?"

"It will help to hear what everyone thinks," Darkvine said. "Yes, we don't want to start being all distrustful, but we don't have a lot of options." She glanced to her right, where Strawberry sat. "What do you think, Strawberry? Who's the murderer?"

"Um," Strawberry said. It was odd to see her quiet, but she had been unusually so since Azalea. Death will do that to you. Her bright green eyes flicked from face to face. "Darkling, I guess?"

Reuby was sitting beside her AE, and she proffered the same verdict, with much less uncertainty. "It's Darkling," she said, her gold eyes finding their slate-grey ones across the table. Neither CBer deigned to show emotion, other than a raised eyebrow on Darkling's part, which really could have meant anything.

Hawkstar, of course, said the same. "Yeah. I think it's Darkling. And not necessarily Calloway," she added.

Hex was next, because I'm fond of half rhymes. "Reuby," she said thoughtfully. "The knife thing is really obvious, but because it's so obvious, it kind of deters us from thinking it's her. Plus, again, the it's-not-Calloway agenda."

"So... you're saying you think it's me because it's my knife, and the murderer would use her own knife so that everyone would think it wasn't her, and therefore it is her?" Reuby said, frowning deeper as she spoke.

Hex snorted. "Kinda, yeah. Sorry," she added. "You're cool. But, y'know. We're kind of all getting murdered here." She looked to Lyra.

"Uh, I don't know," Lyra said. "Um. I don't think it's Tills. Or Eclipse. Darkling seems too obvious, and so do Hawkstar and Reuby. Uh... Artemis. That's who's left. Sorry."

"We're getting murdered," Artemis said. "Don't worry about it."

Echo said, "I think it's Reuby."

Eclipse: "Tilly."

Amethyst was staring out the window, lost in something entirely separate from the vast blue sky. It took a nudge from Echo to awaken her. "What? Oh! Sorry! I think it's Hawkstar."

Sapphire said, "It's Tilly." She didn't hesitate.

Darkling scanned the crowd, and after a moment, they said, "If I weren't myself, I would say it was me, but as I am, I say it is Tilly."

Tilly herself, next to Darkling, bit her lip and said, "It's not me, you know."

"Except we don't," Sapphire said, and Tilly nodded and sighed and said, "Darkling."

"How pleasantly circular," Darkling remarked.

"Humans are so," Artemis replied, rather inexplicably, and said to Darkvine, "I think it's Tilly."

Writing ran xyr fingers through xyr short dyed-blue hair, and said, "Darkling."

Darkvine was writing all of their answers down, and without looking up she said, "I think it's Hawkstar." She clicked her pen and looked up. "For the grand title of Most-Suspected, Darkling and Tilly are tied with four votes each. Right behind them are Reuby and Hawkstar, with two, and then Artemis, with one. No one thinks it's Eclipse, I see."

"There isn't really any evidence against me, is there?" Eclipse asked.

"No," Darkvine said, "Although" -- here with a look of Holmesian thoughtfulness -- "perhaps that's Calloway being clever, avoiding suspicion. That's the trouble with these things. So much can be attributed to Calloway being clever."

"Or not," Reuby remarked. Darkvine's reply was cut short by Pix slipping in to tell them it was eight o'clock, and perhaps they should read for a couple hours before bed?

They did, and then they slept. Pix kept the chandelier dimly lit to prevent the murderer from making any more tenebrous tea-making excursions, but it was rather in vain: I knew I could never get away with killing people in the night again, as long as they all slept in the same great room. Pix wasn't going to accept tea again, and she certainly wasn't going to turn the lights out.

They all passed the night unscathed, except for nightmares and insomnia, and those were familiar monsters. I was plagued by the latter, but in my case, it was because I was a murderer, not because somebody else was.

---

Dead: Azalea, WiLdSoNg, Ame, Celeste, Poinsettia

Alive: Echo Hallowswift, Lyra, Hex, Eclipse, Artemis, Sapphire, Darkvine, Darkling, Hawkstar, Writing, Amethyst, Reuby, Strawberry, Tilly