Glacier swirled the coffee in the bottom of his mug with displeasure. The events of the past several days had given him nothing but headaches. It felt like every ten minutes, his phone rang and a pitiful rabbit or draft horse would tell him about another failure of Services. It wouldn’t be long, he figured, until he would be forced to go to Federal himself and knock some sense into them. If it wasn’t for the experienced advice from his ghost, Apollo, they’d certainly have gotten themselves into a disaster by now.

  “How are you holding up?” Apollo asked.

  He let out a tired snort, letting off a puff of steam. The house was freezing cold, the way he liked it. It was the only way to keep his ice sculptures from melting. “Same old. The phone is ringing off the hook. They can’t manage anything without my help.”

  “Did they ship the warmblood to Federal, like I said to?”

  “No, of course not. They’re saying the parents are going to want visitation rights. It’s exhausting,” Glacier complained. He carefully drew his hoof over the statue of his wife, and new ice began to repair her delicate ear from melting. When she passed away, he preserved her image in ice and kept it in the parlor. He tended to the statue more than any of the others.

  The faded Lipizzaner laid his ears back. “His parents must not be allowed to talk to him after what happened. The security of the entire city is at risk. If it was up to me, I’d simply have him killed, but of course, we can’t do that anymore.”

  “I told them we should’ve shipped him last night. They’re-”

  The loud ringing of the phone interrupted them, and Glacier stood reluctantly to answer it.

  “Hello, this is Glacial Divinity speaking,” he said, automatically at this point.

  “Glacier, we’ve caught the Friesian. The original fugitive,” a rabbit’s rushed voice told him.

  He sipped his coffee, disinterested. “That’s wonderful news. Where are you located right now?”

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  “Norfolk Services Office,” the rabbit replied.

  “You can take the opportunity to ship him and that other horse off to Federal. Quickly, please.” He held the phone away from his face for a moment. “Why in Epona’s name haven’t they done that already?” he whispered to Apollo, who rolled his eyes in sympathy.

  The rabbit hesitated to respond. “Sir, the warmblood’s family-”

  “I already told you, it is too risky to keep him here. I don’t care what the family is going to think,” he barked.

  The sound of hoofbeats trotting down the stairs caught Glacier’s attention. It sounded like one of his fillies, who were both supposed to be at school. He glanced down the hall, and to his annoyance, spotted Serenity standing there.

  “You don’t think he’ll keep quiet about it?” the rabbit questioned.

  Serenity tried to interrupt, tapping him on the shoulder, but Glacier ignored her.

  “It’s not about whether he will or won’t, it’s about the risk. He’s seen the supernatural. If he tells anyone, we’ll have a real problem,” Glacier warned. “Ship him and don’t ask me about it again.”

  “I will discuss it.” The rabbit hung up.

  Glacier groaned loudly in irritation. “I don’t even know why they ask for my opinion. Serenity, what are you still doing here? You were supposed to leave for school an hour ago.”

  “Dad, that’s what I was going to talk to you about,” she said earnestly.

  “Cutting class before your tryouts is unacceptable, Serenity. Do you think they let anyone into these highly competitive teams?” he shouted.

  She tucked her tail and backed away nervously. “My front cannon has been sore for a week now. I could barely put weight on it after practice yesterday.”

  Glacier’s tone continued to escalate. “Why didn’t I know about this until now?”

  She looked at the ground and shifted her feet. “I told you about it on Monday, but you wouldn’t listen.”

  Without another word, he walked out to the medicine cabinet and took out a bottle of pills. He tapped some out on the table and slid them to his daughter.

  “Take these and go to class. I’ll call Robert to drive you.”

  “Dad, I can’t keep practicing with an injury. It’s going to get worse,” she complained.

  He gave her a harsh look that didn’t leave room for an argument. She took the pills and scurried off.

  “Young horses. They’re the worst,” Apollo empathized.