"Yes, but," (Patreon)

the vole replied insolently, "WHY is it vitally important that this person not acquire five copies of the Chanson?"

"Listen," I scolded.  "When an ominous voice speaks in your head, YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO DO WHAT IT SAYS!  You read and sell books, you should know this already."

"Pshaw," the vole scoffed.  "In books, maybe.  But those are contrived, artificial stories deliberately written to favor the protagonist in ways much more structured and meaningful than the random mischance of real life.  I'm not bound by someone else's narrative!  I'm a free vole!"

"You okay there, Sandy?" one of the shop's customers called nervously from the stacks.  "Who you talkin' to?  Have you been taking your pills?  Do we need to summon the guard again?"

"No, no, no," the vole stammered.  "No, that won't be necessary.  I'm perfectly sane.  The pills stop the voices, yes indeed they do.  I was just, um, thinking about a philosophical treatise I had recently read.  No need to summon the guard, and no need to tell Mr. Little about this little, er, outburst of mine.  Though I think I do need to get some air.  If you have purchases, please bring them over so I can close the shop and step out for a bit."

"Quickly, Brown," I prodded as he totaled up the customers' orders.  "Get out of here before Jerry shows up."

The vole scowled and gritted his teeth, but ignored me.

A few minutes later, he hurried out into the street, locking the shop door behind him - just in the nick of time, too.  As I drifted out after Brown, I noticed Jerry sauntering up the street.

"CLOSED??" Jerry groaned when he reached the book shop.  "What the heck, it's the middle of the day!?!  AW MAN!!  And they have the latest issue of Jane, too!  I hope they reopen soon; I only planned to stay overnight."

"It's probably hopeless," I muttered to him.  "You might as well go home now."

He did not respond.  Why could this oaf not hear me?

I briefly considered using Elfmind on him again, but then I recalled the lewd image of SALV Fauxfox and shoes which I had seen before.  The utterly debauched, glassy-eyed expression on Jerry's face convinced me that I would regret peeking in on his thoughts at this moment.

Ah well, he was temporarily stymied in his quest to get the books, and that was good.  I just needed to think of a way to prevent the store from opening, or somehow stop Jerry from buying books, or from returning home, or SOMETHING.

Wait a second.

JANE??

Why would a lowfolk publisher have the latest issue of Jane, the Lowfolk Femme?  I looked at the shop window and saw, to my horror, a chapbook entitled "Jane, ye Foolish Femme, nr. 17."  Despite the slight change in the title, and the much cruder quality of the artwork, this was unmistakably a copy of the popular Jane series from Faerie.  What was it doing here?

Furthermore, why was the textile mill producing fabric with a Persoc-Itoome pattern, along with replicas of the Duchess of Daisies' regalia?

Had the Duchess already conquered the lowfolk world?  I could feel a cold panic start to grip me as I wondered what she would be capable of with these kinds of resources at her command.

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