My dearest Mr Dubont,

I hope this missive finds you in accountably good health, my mother tells me you have retired for the season to the country estate of the ribald Mr Carstairs, and are sure to have much in the way of pleasant distractions. Still, I wish to make good on your kind insistence that I correspond with you during this, the first foreign excursion of the Neovian Women's Guild.

I do still find it strange that, even with the societal progress we have seen in the last few years, the Women's Guild voted so strongly for a trip to the Virtupets Space Station, of all places. But I am not one to cause consternation, as you well know. I have scarcely left Neovia in my formative years, so the idea of leaving the never surface of the planet does, I confess, fill me with a certain sense of apprehension. My sister, Felicity, whom I am quite certain you remember fondly, is excessively excitable about the prospect. Though I suppose that is the beauty of youth.

We have first traveled by carriage, and alighted in Neopia Central to catch what they call a 'rocket' to the Space Station. In preparation, we have taken luncheon. Mrs van Koenig has provided a simply delightful selection of cucumber sandwiches which we took 'al fresco', as the urbanites call it, in the Marketplace before making our way to the launch station.

I shall write to you again, Mr Dubont, with further details of our jaunt.

Yours truly,

Beatrice Casterfell

Aplehamshire, Neovia

From the pen of Mr. Aloysius Dubont, Esq.

Dear Miss Casterfell,

It is with great excitement and trepidation that I receive your delightful letter; I believe, though it is perhaps purest phantasy, that I can perceive a gentle waft of cucumber rising from your letter. I envy you the opportunity for travel, hence my excitement; though my trepidation comes about at the news that it involves letting slip the bonds of earth to travel into the heavens! I would enclose the treatises of Ms. Fitzroy and Lord D----- upon the matter if not for that you are most likely already upon your way, and my knowledge that wild Uni could not tear you away from your goal once your heart was set; and instead only hope that the forces wreaked upon the body through transit upon a 'rocket' do not have the effects those learned personages feared.

Dear Tibs-- that is what we call Mr. Carstairs, as he is an old school-friend-- has been exceedingly droll during my visit; scarcely any time at all passed between my arrival and when I discovered the results of the (doubtless extensive) preparations he made in anticipation of my coming.

The classics have been most in evidence: "CAD" in mirror-writing in white chalk-dust upon the seat of a chair, so that it was spelt out upon my dark trousers when I rose; an invitation to peer into a shadow-box to see Neovia's most horrid villain, but instead the box contained a mirror, showing instead the viewer as the villain; and scones worthy of the Crumpetmonger's finest work, albeit infused with what was revealed to be radish in place of apples.

I have, of course, been a gentleman regarding such ribaldry, but I must confess that I, too, had something of a reputation for prankery at school, and I am afraid that this old war-Peophin's spirit has risen at the sound of the trumpets. Dear Tibs shall have my answer ere long.

I await your next missive with great eagerness. Please know that I remain, most sincerely, your most obedient and humble servant,

Aloysius Dubont

Kreludor

My dear Mr Dubont,

I must admit, your letter, once it found me here on Kreludor lightened my spirits most immensely. I shared your missive with Felicity and we both found the story of the scones with radishes quite delightful in its hilarity and audacity.

Oh, if only we had some hilarity now. And perhaps scones, even with radishes, would offer us sustenance.

You will no doubt have noticed, my dear Mr Dubont, that I am not writing you from our intended destination of Virtupets Space Station, but rather from Kreludor.

The story of how we ended up in this place is, by all means, rather droll. As I noted in an earlier letter, my sister, Felicity, being of an excitable nature, was overwhelmed by the Neopian Marketplace.

In her attempt to take in as much of Neopian culture as possible, and despite my urgings to stay close to our departure gate, Felicity, quite simply, did not return to the departure gate in time to take the shuttle with the rest of the Neovia Women's Guild.

Mrs van Koenig assured me that it was but a small matter of catching the next shuttle and, as such, the Guild departed without us with many promises and exhortations to meet them a short while later.

When Felicity returned to the departure gate, we proceeded to embark on the next shuttle, safe in our assurance by Mrs van Koenig that we would be but a short while behind them.

Alas, our esteemed benefactor had read the shuttle timetable incorrectly and Felicity and I arrived at Kreludor. Imagine our dismay!

We immediately demanded to be transported to Virtupets Space Station, only to be told that the next shuttle was in forty-eight hours and that we could enjoy a delightful Neocola while we wait.

So here we sit, my dear Mr Dubont, in a cold, empty cafe, bereft of the companionship of the Neovia Women's Guild. We attempted to contact them through subspace, but were informed that a meteor shower is prohibiting our communication at this time.

I have looked outside and see no meteors, but I imagine that they may be too small to see. Kreludor is a dark, unwelcoming space, full of Grundos whose written language is backwards Neopian. Thank goodness for Governess Gargarax and her lessons!

We did not feel any ill effects as described by Ms Fitzroy and Lord D-----'s treatises, which I have read and found most entertaining, other than Felicity's newfound exuberance for all things Neopia. A trait I am finding most unwelcome as of right now. I would prefer to be home amongst the shadows and perhaps visiting Count Von Roo's youngest daughter or perhaps even... yourself.

But there, I write too much.

Dear Mr Dubont, I trust you have survived the latest round of pranks from Mr Carstairs. Please do not worry about Felicity and me. In forty-eight hours, we shall reunite with our companions at the space station.

I await your reply, my dear Mr Dubont. If you should have any advice to share regarding Kreludor or the space station, I would find it gladden my heart.

As always, I remain,

Your obliged and affectionate friend,

Beatrice Casterfell

Aplehamshire, Neovia

Dear Miss Casterfell,

I have it on rather good authority that this letter will find you, but I certainly hope that it finds you well when it does. The Postal Clerk at Aplehamshire's mail office insists that Kreludor, for all its ascetic charm, does fall under the Post Office's day-of-delivery guarantee.

Forgive the brusqueness of my concerns, but despite your insistence to the contrary, I am rather worried about your present predicament.

In my years of study at the Felwood Academy, I have done my share of research on Kreludor. Did you know that its atmosphere is artificially produced, containing enough breathable oxygen to last even a hundred thousand Neopians a hundred years before it runs out?

Apologies. I realize that this is not relevant to your current situation, but it is where my mind immediately went. Your safety.

I trust your darling Felicity is in good spirits as well, as I recall her to be quite the adventurous sort - perhaps she is even enjoying herself on this detour of yours.

While in town, I also spoke to Madam Casafrias, the local travel agent, with suggestions for what - if anything - could be accomplished while upon our illustrious Moon. She mentioned, as did you, one of Kreludor's chief exports: Neocola. It appears that a machine exists, somewhere on the solar side, in which you can insert the caps from the bottles in exchange for prizes.

Though this does not sound the most enthralling of activities, considering you only have a day or so remaining before your trip continues, a souvenir may be in order.

I certainly would not be opposed to a moon rock, if given the opportunity, to examine and impress upon for my very own.

Yours in incredulity,

Aly...

Aloysius Dubont, Esq.

Virtupets Space Station

My dear Mr. Dubont,

Aplehamshire's post office truly does deliver. I was able to pick up your letter shortly before our trip to the Virtupets Space Station could continue in earnest. I appreciate your concern for my safety, but rest assured, despite the lull in our excursion, we had ample air to breathe, as our hosts at Cafe Kreludor reassured us.

Felicity took Madam Casafrias' advice and had her taste of Neocola for the first time. Despite some unladylike burping after the first few minutes of finishing the entire bottle, she did in fact take the cap to a machine for a prize. She got a Fake Neocola Token on a String, which amused her to no end. Imagine, she said, placing your bottle cap into this machine and getting a fake one on a string, presumably to attempt to fool this machine into giving you another prize! But she was satisfied enough with her "souvenir", insisting on taking it with her.

Before we boarded our shuttle, I requested our waitress, a sharp Grundo named Xallen, if there was a place where we could pick up a moon rock for you. She graciously obliged, and soon returned with a rock small enough to be a paperweight upon your study desk. I only regret not having enough time to thank her properly as we had to leave soon, lest we miss yet another ride to the Virtupets Space Station. Mrs. van Koenig has made certain that we have the correct schedule this time, and that we shall be reunited with the rest of the Neovian Women's Guild at the hangar.

But when we arrived at the hangar, it was not Mrs. van Koenig we found, nor the other members of the Guild. Instead, we found Rosalie von Roo.

My dear friend from the shadows was waiting, and immediately came up to embrace me and Felicity, who then proceeded to bounce and toss her Fake Neocola Token on a String like a yo-yo while I asked Rosalie what brought her to the Virtupets Space Station instead of doting upon her beloved father.

The news was so much more startling than our initial rocket ride, or even the detour to Kreludor.

Rosalie warned me and Felicity that Lady Esme Carstairs, Mr Carstairs' sister, was also here at the Space Station. As you know, Rosalie possesses talent from within the shadows, truly her father's daughter, so she managed to follow Lady Carstairs here. And as you also know, Lady Carstairs has always sought to take the Guild leadership, but could never capture enough of the vote until she was expelled from the Guild two months ago. Rosalie believes Lady Carstairs is planning something, perhaps to either regain entry into the Guild, or worse, take control of it.

I understand that you and Mr Carstairs are in the middle of a prank competition, but I'm afraid I must ask you a favour. Dear friend, might you be able to find out more about Lady Carstairs from your incorrigible friend?

In the meantime, Rosalie, Felicity and I shall find the Guild - and find out more about whatever Lady Carstairs is planning.

Any assistance you can lend us is much appreciated.

Beatrice Casterfell

Aplehamshire, Neovia

Dear Miss Casterfell,

It is with great relief that I write this letter. Knowing that you and your dear sister, Felicity, are safely at your destination near reunion with the members of your Guild brings great reprieve. Please enjoy the Virtupets Space Station in the meantime, will you?

As for Felicity's Fake Neocola Token on a String, I'd have to categorize that prize as on par with the antics of Mr Carstairs! How devious a winning that could promote defrauding and deception. So long as Felicity found humour and light-hearted fun in such an absurd bounty, 'tis all that matters.

In regards to your concerns about Lady Esme Carstairs, I do believe they are justified. After having a serious discourse with Mr Carstairs – which was, albeit, more difficult than it should have been – I have become privy to the knowledge that Lady Esme does indeed seek leadership of the Neovian Women's Guild and plans to take it by force. While Mr Carstairs seemed to lack the specific details of her scheme, it does appear that her target is Mrs. van Koenig.

My dear Miss Casterfell, I do believe it is in your best interest to stay on high alert and assure that Mrs. van Koenig is not left alone.

Additionally, Mr Carstairs continued to babble on about a disguise Lady Esme might be wearing, but I am not quite certain of his sincerity... Possibly a Vira Halloween Costume? However, I am not convinced he did not intend it in jest.

I pray that you remain safe, attentive, and informed.

Yours always,

Aloysius Dubont, Esq.

Virtupets Space Station

My dearest Mr Dubont,

I sit, eating a meal at the station's main eatery, one "Grundos Cafe", during a rare moment of calm in this bustling celestial city. Felicity is enjoying a rather fanciful pretzel topped with a glowing, semi-viscous substance; it admittedly reminds me of something one might obtain at Spooky Foods, right to its Deserted Fairground flair. I have opted for something termed "Vegetable Deluxe", but it is like no vegetable that I have ever had the (dis)pleasure of tasting.

I appreciate your prayers, and apologize that I have not found time to write over these past few days. Shortly after retrieving your previous missive from the Virtupets Post Office, Felicity and I did reunite with the Women's Guild -- but it came through a brief moment of tragedy.

The shrill cry of a warning siren blared: "This is Esterhazy," announced a voice so ethereal and resounding that it could have come from the creator of the great firmament Himself, "There has been an incident in Space Walk Tourist Zone #42, with registrant van Koenig. Proper units, please retrieve the body." Felicity and I hastily asked about and learned the location of this Space Walk Zone, to which we raced and met the Guild members.

You are a very learned man, and perhaps you know what a spacewalk is. Apparently, someone dons a rather oversized suit, and simply floats about, free from gravity's constraints. Why anyone would desire this is beyond me; the exercise seems frivolous, let alone dangerous. Luckily, Mrs van Koenig survived the experience, but fell unconscious during -- hence her need for rescue.

Whether of her own faculties or due to more sinister means is subject to debate and whispers about Guild members. Mrs van Koenig, still unconscious, is currently in one of Virtupets' sick bays; the doctors there say she will recover, but it could yet be a few days. The Space Station has a very technologically-driven healthcare system in place, including a full-body scanning machine that can report various illnesses. The machine is incredible, and something I might like to try myself -- if I weren't so worried of its potential findings!

Nevertheless, with our Treasurer incapacitated, Lady Carstairs has volunteered to step into the position, like some saint at the right place and time. You know her profession; with no one else competent at bookkeeping, she was sworn back into the guild by majority vote, though perhaps begrudgingly. I do fear that I may be the next target, but Rosalie continues to assure me that my popularity as President is sufficient to withstand political attack by the Carstairs faction.

I can only hope that Lady Esme sticks to political tactics and has not devised a more sinister plot.

In lighter news, there is a lever here which one can pull, despite being advised otherwise. Pulling it seems to produce the effect of a mechanical hand reaching out and stealing some of the puller's Neopoints! I suppose Dr S---- has to fund his endeavours somehow, and doting tourists are one way to do so.

The lever made me think of you and your pranks with Mr Carstairs. It may just be the fear, but I find myself thinking of you often, and will be joyed to see you again and gift you your paperweight.

I plead with you to find out more from Mr Carstairs, as you are able. Though Lady Carstairs has not (yet) been seen donning a Vira costume, your intelligence on the fate of Mrs van Koenig may have been direly accurate, if a hair too late. Regardless, I welcome any available information.

With much care and fondness, your warm and devoted friend,

Beatrice Casterfell

Meepit Oaks, Neovia

Dear Miss Casterfell,

I was much aggrieved to hear of what has befallen Mrs van Koenig. Do convey to her my sincerest well-wishes when she awakes, and please be very careful now that Lady Esme Carstairs has returned among you. Stay with Felicity and Rosalie at all times.

You will notice that I am now writing from Meepit Oaks. This morning, as we were having breakfast, when I tried to ask Mr Carstairs further questions about his sister Esme, he became suddenly violent – quite knocked over several glasses on the table – and the servants rushed in to restrain him. After he had calmed down, he remarked that it had been many months since he suffered a bout of temper of this sort, and asked if I would escort him to the Sanitorium. So here I am in the waiting room while Mr Carstairs consults with the physicians inside.

I recall that in our school days, Mr Carstairs – dear Tibs as I used to call him – very occasionally suffered from violent bouts of temper, and would withdraw from school for short stays at Meepit Oaks. He was shunned by many others in our circle, but I've always been grateful to him for his assistance with arithmetic. And, of course, he had an excellent sense of ribaldry and adventure, which I shared.

The Sanitorium has undergone renovations in the past decades. It is now about two stories in height, with walls painted a cheery yellow, and a porch with white steps extending across the front. Roomlets open out on either side, each one being large enough to accommodate a bed, two chairs, one wash-stand, and one bureau. There is a garden where some of the patients take their daily sunshine.

But I digress. My immediate worry at present is for your safety.

I wonder what it is about the history of Lady Esme Carstairs that sent my dear Tibs into such a nervous rage. There must be a reason as to why the Guild has for so long refused entry to Lady Esme.

All of us here are as well as can be wished for under the circumstances. Mr Carstairs will hopefully be back to his ribald self ere long. Rosalie will no doubt be happy to hear as well that Count von Roo has enjoyed some relief of his gout-like symptoms since trying a new medicine made from Gelatinous Non-Cube.

I pray that your return from the celestial tour will be swift and free of further complications.

Yours,

Aloysius Dubont

Holding Cells

Virtupets Space Station

Dear Mr Dubont,

Please send my well-wishes to Mr Carstairs for a speedy recovery. It seems both of us are in waiting rooms for different reasons - you, for Mr Carstairs' consultation, and me, for reasons I shall tell you.

As you are writing from the Sanitorium, I am writing from outside the holding cells in the Virtupets Space Station, which I assume were used by Dr S---- to imprison his rivals, his enemies, and whoever else managed to annoy him. Now, these cells are used to imprison poor Rosalie, who stands accused of causing the disappearance of Lady Beatrice Casterfell.

That is why I, Felicity, am now writing to you in her stead, earnestly pleading for your help. While I understand Mr Carstairs' condition, we may need you more than he does at this moment.

Following Lady Carstairs' assumption of Mrs. van Koenig's position, Beatrice, Rosalie and I have scarcely left each other's sides as we tried to stay one step ahead of her. But the night after the attack on Mrs van Koenig, while we rested in our rooms at the AstroVilla, the power was suddenly cut, plunging the lodge into total darkness. When the light was restored, we gathered together in the lobby for a headcount to ensure no one else suffered the same fate as Mrs van Koenig.

But our worst fears were confirmed when Rosalie showed up alone. Having snuck into the Virtupets Space Station, Beatrice had kindly allowed her dearest friend to stay with her in her room, while I took the room across from them. And when she was there, and not the President of the Guild, it did not take long for Lady Carstairs to stir up the members, telling them that this was why "Grossalie" should never be a member of the Neovian Women's Guild.

Rosalie tried to explain that she was just as confused about what happened, for when the lights went out, she suddenly felt dizzy and collapsed to the floor, only regaining consciousness at the same time we regained power. And though she tried to search for my sister, her efforts were futile, and all she could do was find the Guild in the hopes that they would help her look for Beatrice.

Just as our worst fears were confirmed, Rosalie's hopes were dashed to the floor as Mrs Carstairs accused her of spiriting Beatrice away. It was all because Rosalie's membership could never get an approval, even with Beatrice as president, Lady Carstairs claimed. This was a revenge plot, and it had begun with Mrs van Koenig.

Of course, everything she said was pure rubbish. I stepped forward to defend Rosalie, because even though she harboured a lot of hurt in her heart from never being able to enter the Guild (while, I might add, the likes of Lady Carstairs are able to saunter back into its ranks), I believe that she would never do anything to hurt Beatrice or anyone else.

Sadly, my voice was drowned out by the others who had ostracized Rosalie all these years, and she was immediately taken into the holding cells as a search is ongoing for Beatrice. I am the only one who has thought of visiting her. While her cell is quite futuristic, like most things on the Space Station, it is extremely lonely, and as I pen these words I can see Rosalie staring forlornly at me through the glass door, as though pleading with me to let her out.

If I had the keycard to her cell, I would, in a heartbeat, so both of us can search for Beatrice together. This time, with a monitor and a speaker overhead, Rosalie cannot use her shadow powers to slip away unseen - and even if she can, she would look even more suspicious.

I must end my letter here. Without Rosalie, I must embark on my quest to find my sister alone - and to find her before Mrs Carstairs does anything worse to her. I know she is responsible for this and has conveniently blamed Rosalie for it.

But perhaps, with your help, I don't have to be alone.

Please, Mr Dubont. My older sister, and the President of the Neovian Women's Guild, is missing. Surely Mr Carstairs would understand if you leave him for a short spell to help your beloved friend.

Yours truly,

Felicity Casterfell

Aplehamshire, Neovia

Dear Miss Casterfell,

Due to your missive of utmost urgency, I hope you will forgive the brevity of my reply. I have purchased my ticket to Virtupets with a stopover on Kreludor. I shall depart as soon as I mail this letter; according to current estimates, I shall arrive in approximately 28 hours from now. (The letter envelope should contain the timestamp.)

I have passed your well-wishes to Mr Carstairs. However, it pains me to convey that Ol' Tibs became markedly violent upon my telling of where I was embarking, and threw a fit like ne'er I'd seen; thank heavens that there were nurses to restrain him. He kept yelling that his sister is ruthless and cannot be trusted, and refused to see me be hurt by her. He remarked that at times it seems like she has no soul.

For an often jovial and lighthearted sort, his warnings were imbued with dread. I would have been perturbed had there not been bigger matters occupying my mind -- particularly, the disappearance of my darl one of my dearest friends.

Nevertheless, his warnings I shall heed. Though for your sake, and the sake of my dearest elder Miss Casterfell, I sincerely hope we can soon put this ordeal behind us.

Give my regards to Rosalie. I shall be with the both of you shortly.

Let us meet at Grundos Cafe. Beatrice spoke of a vegetable dish that makes me curious.

Sincerely,

Aloysius Dubont, Esq.

***

Mr Dubont reunited with Felicity Casterfell at Grundos Cafe. The greeting was warm, albeit curt. Upon Mr Dubont inquiring the whereabouts of Miss Von Roo, Felicity informed him that -- according to the holding cell guards -- Rosalie disappeared from her cell sometime just before dawn and had not been seen since. Felicity also shared the unsettling news that Lady Carstairs had been elected Interim President of the Neovian Women's Guild in Beatrice Casterfell's absence.

Mr Dubont and Felicity searched about Virtupets for their two missing friends. However, it was easy to get lost in the "celestial city" -- though even easier to hide.

After a few hours of searching, an ethereal voice rang over the intercom. "This is Esterhazy, paging Beatrice and Felicity Casterfell: You are requested at Sick Bay #3." The message repeated, though Felicity (and Mr Dubont) did not need to be told twice.

There, they found one Mrs. van Koenig, who had just woken from her comatose state and called for the Casterfell sisters. Mr Dubont conveyed well-wishes to her in person, though -- after explaining himself to be a dear friend of Beatrice Casterfell -- additionally urged Mrs. van Koenig to recall what she could about the illness that befell her.

Mrs. van Koenig remarked that she could not remember much, though she did think she saw Rosalie Von Roo nearby the Space Walk Zone -- except that it couldn't be her, because she was not with the Guild. She claimed then that a shiver ran down her spine, and asked Mr Dubont to fetch her coat from a small closet which the nurse assured her contained her things.

Whilst Mr Dubont fetched the coat, Felicity Casterfell started to tell Mrs. van Koenig of some of the events that had recently transpired -- particularly, about Lady Carstairs and the disappearance of Beatrice; regarding the latter's absence from their informal meeting, Mrs. van Koenig had certainly been wondering.

Mr Dubont's skin ran cold when he saw, among Mrs. van Koenig's things, a Vira costume. He searched inside the pocket and found a handwritten missive, penmanship on both sides, wrapped about what seemed to be a stone.

He brought it to the women, unwrapped the letter, and they started to read.

***

Sick Bay #3

Virtupets Space Station

Dear Miss Casterfell,

I am afraid that I simply did not have the heart to confront you directly. I hope that over time you may heal from the tragedies that have befallen the Neovian Women's Guild -- if it can longer be worthy of its founding name. The elder Miss Casterfell -- dearest Beatrice -- founded it on the principle of equality and progress for us Womenfolk. Entering the frontier of space was to be a testament to that! Yet here we are, undone by our infighting.

I believe it was the great Altstaf who penned, "The brightest stars burn out the fastest," and this quote seems ever more pertinent far above the constraints of the planet of Neopia. I hope this may bring you peace.

Lady Carstairs learned through me the Guild's plans to visit Virtupets. It was more than a coincidence that we arrived near the same time, you know. Ever the persuasive rhetor -- you know her profession -- she convinced me to hold fast to a plan she had devised.

First, I was to accompany her to Virtupets and play the part of Beatrice's ally -- not difficult, considering we have been dear friends since high school girls. Thereafter, I was to incapacitate Mrs van Koenig the Treasurer; it was a relatively easy task, considering my skills at stealth, and I merely followed her to the spacewalk chamber and released a mild poison into her oxygen tank supply.

Pieces of the plan seemed to come to fruition as Lady Carstairs predicted: particularly, she was elected Treasurer, and subsequently President. She would then be able to admit me into the Guild.

See, this was the arrangement we had devised. It does not take much intelligence to know that I am despised by many Guild members. Though largely progressive, many members are sticklers over the "Neovian" component of the Neovian Women's Guild; and, despite my living here for half my life, it is true that I was born after Father emigrated from the Haunted Woods to Roo Island, and I do not hold official Neovian citizenship. Lady Carstairs -- who assured me she had no aspirations to become President long-term -- said that her action of admitting me into the guild would cause sufficient backlash to prompt her returning to her role as Treasurer, whereupon Miss Casterfell could resume Presidential duty.

Oh, you know it was my dream to be a member of my friend's Guild! A dream that has been tainted by Esme's deceit.

The eve Beatrice disappeared, I feigned my spell of unconsciousness. In fact, during this time, I was transporting the unconscious Miss Casterfell to a specially marked crate in the Grundo Warehouse, as agreed between Lady Carstairs and myself. There was luncheon therein, and Beatrice was to remain hidden until the rest of the plan came to fruition -- which would ideally be quick, especially considering how soon after Miss van Koenig's brush with Death that Lady Carstairs was sworn as Treasurer.

My being jailed was not part of the plan. Whilst I remained locked, I came to the realization that Lady Carstairs -- one such woman in the crowd crowing for my detention -- could ultimately not be trusted to keep her word. Beatrice has before remarked that all Neopians -- even Lady Carstairs -- are truly good deep down. Nevertheless, I should have treated the plot with more scepticism than I originally had.

Using my stealth prowess, I escaped my cell. I returned resolute to Grundo Warehouse, determined to free my friend. I realized I could no longer keep her in the literal and figurative darkness, and instead, I would tell her the plan, hope she would understand my actions and forgive me, and let her thereupon decide her next move in this.

However, once I arrived there, I realized the crate had gone missing.

I confronted Lady Carstairs, who seemed surprised by this (though unsurprised to note my escape), and asked me to inquire about it. I went back and asked the Grundo foreman about the crate. I learned then what the "special marking" on the crate in fact meant: cleared for immediate disposal.

The crate had been ejected from the space station via airlock about 4 hours prior.

Something broke in me, then. It is still broken. Whether Esme had played a hand in this, or knew about the significance of the symbol when we agreed where to hide Beatrice, I do not know. In fact, I shall never know. I never want to know.

Tears streaking down my face, I rushed to the sick bay to inquire to the doctors if anything could be done for dearest Beatrice should the crate holding her be retrieved. They remarked -- without equipment or even oxygen -- the chances of her still being amongst the living is zero, even despite their technology and best efforts.

It pains me too much to continue this missive, which I write, sitting athwart Mrs van Koenig. I have revealed my side of the story. I feel powerless against Esme, who I believe to be a genuine usurper. This all aside, it is my fault. My fault dear Beatrice is no longer with us.

And for that, I will never forgive myself.

I know that she is with Him in the firmament, and for what I am about to do, I will not be joining her there. But I hope that some solace will reach you and Mr Dubont eventually. I know you will see her again someday.

Enclosed herein is a stone from Kreludor. Though we shared a room for two evenings, she giggled and discussed at length her desires -- you know, as we young ladies do. One of her strongest was to be reunited with Mr Dubont and to give him this stone as a sign of her affection. What meaning it has, I will never know. You will need to ask him.

Please take care of him. It is what Beatrice would have wanted. Take care of yourself, as well.

Goodbye, Miss Casterfell.

Sincerely,

Rosalie Von Roo

***

A brief pause. A hesitation. Stunned, defeated, sickening, melancholy, deafening silence filled the room.

The silence was quickly split by an ethereal voice over the intercom. "This is Esterhazy," it started, but the three Neovians in Sick Bay #3 paid it no attention.."

Never had the three been so close to the heavens. Virtupets was a celestial city indeed.

THE END