Twilight awoke, shivering gently in the dawn chill, to the gentle susurrus of running water. She’d curled up into a tight ball in her sleep, leaving her feeling more than a little stiff as she stretched out. Judging by the soft light outside, it was just before sunrise.
She briefly entertained the idea of lying in for a while, but banished it just as quickly. Crawling out of her sleeping bag, she stepped over to the rocky platform’s edge, to a point where it was tilted low enough to dip below the surface, and splashed the frigid water over her face.
There was grumbling behind her – it seemed she wasn’t the only one awake. She crossed back to give Rainbow a poke. “Up you get,” she said, her voice echoing throughout the cavern.
“Nnnno.”
Twilight poked her again. “One day left, Dash.” Unless we get lost, she added silently to herself. “Up.”
Rainbow made a great show of squirming and whining before finally giving up with a huff. “Fiiine,” she groaned, pulling herself out and plodding drowsily to the water’s edge. Squirrel was yawning widely as she watched them. “You too,” Twilight added for good measure.
“Mmm,” Squirrel blinked languidly at her as she went to join Rainbow.
It wasn’t long after that they’d packed everything back up and into the canoe, jackets and scarves once again donned against the cold. In the interest of keeping her strength up as long as possible, they decided to continue using a pair of their scant shards to light the way, saving her light-spell for emergencies or vast areas.
The canoe barely swayed as they boarded. “Alright,” Twilight began once she’d settled into her usual spot at the bow. “Are we all good to go? Not forgetting anything?”
“Nah,” Squirrel said, exchanging a glance with Rainbow. “We’re good; let’s get this done.’
“Right. Slow and steady, and if anyone sees anything even vaguely egg-like: holler.” With a push of her oar she propelled them out and away from the landing, the canoe bobbing on the surface before getting caught back up in the current. From here, the shards were too dim to make anything out around them; if it wasn’t for the lit entrance right behind them, they could’ve been floating in an endless sea.
“Hopefully things narrow up ahead,” Twilight mumbled to herself before speaking up. “Let’s get closer to one of the walls – we’ll never know if we’re even moving otherwise.”
It was simple enough to get within a few lengths of the rough, chalky stone, and get a sense of movement as it slowly drifted past. The passage carried on unerringly, even as the daylight behind became little more than a small, brilliant blob in the distance.
“No moss,” Squirrel whispered, her voice sounding loud in the dead air. “Or anything, really.”
Twilight grunted softly. “Unsurprising – I’m getting the feeling this section was a little more professionally done.”
“Still got flooded, though.”
“River might’ve changed course?” Twilight mused.
“Maybe.”
Twilight tried to think of something else to say – the quiet was starting to bother her – when her attention was suddenly caught by the sight of thick bundles of cables running at the far edge of the gloom above. “Wonder what they needed that much power for,” she said, gesturing up at them. “You don’t often see them at that gauge.”
“Big around as my arm, I think,” Squirrel agreed, craning her neck to look up at them herself. “Maybe they charged stuff off waterfalls?”
Twilight shrugged. “Haven’t seen any falls yet; not inconceivable though.” It didn’t sound quite right to her, however. It hardly mattered though – a good part of her attention was still being quietly focused on keeping an eye on Rainbow. The mare was doing just fine this close to the entrance, but Twilight was nonetheless worried. Experience made it abundantly clear, however, that saying anything would be the wrong thing to do.
The tunnel continued on straight and unerring. It was still much too wide for them to make out the far wall – something that made them all a little uneasy. The minutes passed slowly.
“I think it’s narrowing or something,” Rainbow said after a tense, dreary period, as she leaned over the side and squinted across the passage. “Seeing bits and pieces of lighter spots, at least.”
Twilight looked, but couldn’t make out anything herself; still, she’d rely on Rainbow’s eyes over her’s any day. “About time, then,” she muttered. “If it wasn’t for the wall here, I’d swear we were stuck in place.” The entrance lingered as a dot, far in the distance.
It wasn’t much longer before all three of them could make out shapes in the dark. Curious as to what was there, Twilight picked up one of the shards in her magic and levitated it out over the water. What had looked at first like mottling – a patchwork of lighter spots and dark – across the stone, soon resolved itself into something considerably more worrying.
They were holes.
Neat, tidy circles – large enough to crawl through – were bored into the far wall, their recesses dark as ink. Chalky gouges outlined more than a few of them.
“Well that’s... umm...” Twilight found herself at a loss. “Shoot.”
“Not good?”
“Yes – that sounds about right, Dash.”
“Sooo we’re turning around, then, right?” Squirrel asked, hope evident in her voice. “Because there aren’t any monsters on the long way around, right?”
“We’re doing this, Squirrel,” Twilight insisted sternly – at this point, she just wanted this whole thing to be done with, spookiness or not. “A few ancient-looking holes shouldn’t send us packing.”
Squirrel pointed to some more dried-out egg-husks, just coming into sight ahead. “Well, what about those?”
“... they also look ancient. We’ll be fine.”
Squirrel fell off muttering to herself, but didn’t complain anymore. A part of Twilight wished she would – she’d’ve given in and tried to turn around if the mare had insisted stoutly enough, but she could hardly admit her misgivings now. She pulled the shard back, settling it into place as the holes slowly faded back into darkness, taking their husk-ridden ledges and crannies with them.
They continued on uneasily, jumping at every perceived crack or thump around them. With their ears so sharpened to any slight noise, they heard, long before they saw, the churning of water ahead.
“I think it’s another blockage,” Rainbow said, head cocked to the side. “Sounds like it, anyways.”
That was worrying – with the complete lack of cave-scrawl, the presence of a cave-in could mean this passage was completely unpassable. “I hope we don’t actually have to turn around...”
“The current was never really going to let us,” Squirrel said. “By the time we noticed the holes we’d been going for, what, half-an-hour? More?” Time passed strangely down here.
Twilight hunched down grimly. “Well, then – through it is.”
The waters rippled around them as they held position, little whitecaps dancing across the surface. The river flowed through rapids made of great chunks of fallen rock, their tips just poking out of the water, stretching as far down the tunnel as Twilight’s light could go. No side-passages lay anywhere in sight.
She canceled her spell, sighing glumly as she did. “Any ideas?”
Rainbow grunted as she and Squirrel tried to keep them braced on one of the few boulders safely away from the sucking current. “Go back?”
“The current hasn’t gotten any easier.” It had, in fact, gotten significantly worse, here where the water was so much shallower; it didn’t help either that none of the three were particularly well-built for paddling so hard for so long, to say nothing of how tiring the past few days had been on them.
“Then I guess we’re hoofin’ it,” Rainbow said, finally managing to wedge her oar in just so to keep them steady. She slumped in relief, huffing as she stared over the rapids. “We’re not taking the canoe with us over that, mind you.”
“I could always levitate it a ways; we’ll want to scout it on hoof first, though.” Most of the rocks sat high enough above the water to give them purchase; luckily, lichen didn’t seem wont to grow this far from light, so they wouldn’t be nearly as treacherous as they would be above ground.
“Could go ahead?” Rainbow offered. “Tie one of the shards to my head or something?”
“We should stay together,” Squirrel argued. “Safer that way.”
That was something Twilight could agree with. “In case you slip; plus, we’ll have all the lights together that way.”
Rainbow nodded easily, looking relieved that they’d be coming with. “Let’s get the boat out, then.” She plucked out her jammed oar, letting them drift towards the rapids.
They aimed themselves for a fairly dense-looking clump of boulders that they’d hopefully be able to walk across. Bumping up roughly against them, Squirrel jammed her own oar into place well enough to get them stuck, letting Rainbow and Twilight make their slow, precarious way onto the rocks. Standing with legs splayed across multiple stones, they grabbed ahold of the canoe as Squirrel made her own way out, before together they tugged it into a thin channel, too narrow for the coursing water to pull all the way through. After some thought, they decided to leave their gear behind as well – the weight would only make the next bit harder.
Creeping across the stones themselves was... disconcerting, Twilight decided. Their spacing was utterly irregular, as were their heights – some stood as far up as she was tall, whereas others could just barely be made out beneath the surface, covered in coppery slime.
“Deadend here!” Squirrel called out from across the passage – there was no real path over the rapids, forcing them to just pick a direction and go until they couldn’t anymore. After the first few deadends, they decided to split up – though still keeping close – to try and save some time. “Give me a sec – I’m coming back.”
While Squirrel backtracked, Twilight tried to figure out if there was any point continuing her own line – the next little section was definitely going to involve crossing some slick-looking underwater stones. “Same,” she eventually replied, deciding it wasn’t worth the risk. “Dash?”
“Still good!” Rainbow called back over the hissing streams, several lengths ahead. Twilight turned around and made her own circuitous route to join up with her, taking care not to jostle Squirrel beside her.
Catching up, they followed Rainbow closely, their dual lights – tied carefully about Rainbow and Squirrel’s necks – lighting their way just enough to make out a few metres around. Shadows danced in every direction as they slowly made progress, the canoe long since lost to sight behind them.
“I’m surprised the whole thing didn’t just cave in,” Twilight wondered, glancing up at the jagged, crumbled ceiling. “With how long this collapsed section is, we’re quite lucky this is passable at all.”
“Don’t jinx it!” Rainbow scowled, ears splaying back.
“If it’s held this long, it’ll hold another day,” Squirrel assured her, bobbing her head forwards as she did. “Besides – what’s that?”
Ahead, spots of light sliced through the gloom, flickering off the water. Resisting the urge to hurry their pace, it was still some minutes before they could see where it was coming from – on their right was a large side-passage, a pair of great, crooked doors barring entrance. A shaft of light shone through a crack between them.
“Daylight!” Rainbow exclaimed gleefully, practically trotting as she made her way to the door.
“Oh, for – be careful Dash!” Twilight half-shouted in exasperation. “A way out’ll do us little good if you turn an ankle!”
“I’m fiiine,” Rainbow waved off her concerns. Reaching the door, she reared up and gave it a shove. “Stuck,” she said, slapping a hoof against it. “Squirrel!”
Squirrel was shaking her head before she even got there. “No good – look at the bottom.”
Twilight was so taken at the thought of getting out so soon she hadn’t even noticed it herself – the base of the door was covered in rubble, bent inwards with the pressure. It was going nowhere.
“I don’t think we’re going to get that open,” Squirrel continued. “Can we fit through the top?” The ceiling had cracked above the door as well, leaving what looked like a gap big enough to fit through, if barely.
Rainbow hopped in place, trying to reach it. “Too high – let me stand on you.”
Squirrel snorted. “On this terrain? Not a chance.”
“Girls,” Twilight cut in, hoping to head anything off. “It wouldn’t matter anyways – even if Squirrel boosted us both over, she couldn’t get over herself.”
“Could magic me up?”
Twilight shook her head. “No good – remember?”
“Oh – yeah,” Squirrel wilted.
“Oof,” Rainbow agreed.
They stood around quietly, occasionally staring through the crack or off into the distance as they tried to think of some way through. As near as Twilight could tell, there really was only one option available – carry on down the tunnel – but she was loathe to leave their little spot of daylight. Stepping back up to the hoof-sized crack, she peered through it again at the waystation on the far side. It looked like a secondary entrance, with a small checkpoint and lockable door. While their eyes were far too dark-adjusted to make out anything through the glare, the way everything was set made it clear it was exactly what they were looking for – a real exit.
She tried not to focus too hard on the eggs oozing gently in one of the corners – they could always run past them, after all.
“Wait!” Rainbow exclaimed, her wings flaring out. “Wait, wait, wait! I got it!” She pranced excitedly in place.
“Well, go on!” Twilight gave her a soft little headbutt. “Tell us!”
“Right, right, right – so we go back for the canoe, right?” She began. “Drag it over here and prop it up. Squirrel can climb up it then, right?”
“Probably,” Squirrel agreed. “Could pile up rubble too, assuming we can even all fit through the gap in the first place.”
“Oh, don’t be such a downer,” Rainbow frowned, before perking back up. “But the canoe gets us over, right? But we still need the dumb thing for the river, so we find some, like, old timber or something and force the door open!”
“I didn’t see any timber...” Twilight trailed off, putting her eye against the crack again. “Anything wooden in there has rotted to just about nothing in all the water; plus, those eggs are far too lively-looking for there not to be a parent somewhere.” The only reason she wasn’t bothered about them right now was that anything that could birth something that big couldn’t possibly fit through the crack to get to them.
“Ah, but here’s the kicker,” Rainbow continued, looking especially pleased with herself. “If one of those monsters comes along while we’re prying away, we just run outside!”
Twilight stared at her as the seconds ticked by. “And?” she finally asked.
“Well, it’s not like they can follow!” Rainbow said as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “The sunlight’ll burn them!”
“... I feel like I’m missing something here.”
“Think about it!” Rainbow insisted. “We’ve only ever seen them underground, right? In dimly lit areas? So clearly they can’t do the sun! The ones near the second part’s entrance were all burnt up, too!”
“Dried up, I think,” Twilight muttered, as she tried to decide if Rainbow was brilliant or insane. “I suppose they could be sensitive to sunlight...”
“Ha! I’m right! Knew it,” Rainbow preened.
It wasn’t anything like a perfect plan – might not even have been a good one – but it would give them something to do that wasn’t just moping around the jammed door, and Twilight still absolutely hated the idea of abandoning this exit and carrying on. “Alright – I vote we try it.”
“Two-to-one!” Rainbow cut in before Squirrel could say anything. “Majority wins!”
Squirrel huffed, rolling her eyes. “I’m game for it too, you know.”
“Alriiight!”
The walk back seemed to take no time at all. “Right,” Twilight said, assessing the canoe. “I’ll levitate it in stages; let’s get everything out of it first.”
They took their time getting their gear back on and secured, straps well-tightened to avoid anything shifting on the way back. Once they were ready, Twilight gripped the canoe in her magic, grunting faintly as she moved it forwards over the rocks and settled it carefully down at the edge of the shard-light. Not for the first time did she curse the weight of the thing – the sturdiness might be terrific considering how rough they’d been with it, but it sure did make carrying it a pain.
The journey back to the door felt like ages, with Twilight only able to comfortably shuffle the canoe several metres at a time, being both far too unwilling to set it down somewhere she couldn’t clearly make out, and equally unwilling to try and navigate the slippery stones while she carried it.
She was, however, quietly pleased that neither of them complained about her pace.
Eventually the doorway and its beckoning slivers of light appeared once again before them. Taking the final few steps with the same care she’d taken with the first, she nestled the canoe down between a pair of rounded boulders right next to the doors. Still breathing deeply, she splashed some cold water on her face from one of the wider rivulets before giving herself a brisk shake. “Finally,” she muttered in relief.
“And we’re almost out!” Rainbow said to the sound of dull clunking. Turning away from the water, she saw the other two clumsily trying to wrest the canoe into place.
Well, it’s stout enough, Twilight figured, deciding to just let them go at it. She couldn’t help but wince every time it fell over, though.
After a few more minutes fiddling they managed to partially prop it up against the door – with a little deftness Squirrel should be able to scramble up it far enough to get a grip on the lintel and through the gap above it. “Aaand done!” Rainbow said, giving it a slap for good measure. “Now just give me a moment to get on the brace and I’ll pull you up!”
With the lintel as low as it was, this took little more than a standing leap and a great deal of fluttering, her wings thumping hard enough to blow strands of Twilight’s sopping mane all other the place, to say nothing of everyone’s tails. Coughing in the thin cloud of dust she’d kicked up, Twilight stepped over to where Rainbow was now blinking owlishly down at her.
“Sorry about that,” Rainbow apologized sheepishly. “Didn’t think there’d be so much.”
“It’s fine,” Twilight said, rearing up beside the canoe and giving Squirrel an expectant look.
“You’re lucky my pack’s so thick,” Squirrel grumbled as she tried to find someplace to brace her hooves. Although the other two had reluctantly left their gear on this side of the door – they’d just be too thick and heavy otherwise – Squirrel’d kept hers on, just for this.
“It’s kinda tight up here,” Rainbow continued as she watched Twilight struggle to stand on Squirrel’s back. “But there’s a bunch of junk piled against the door on this side – I’m standing on some of it now. Should be easy enough to pull you up.”
By now Twilight was standing flat-bellied against the door, her hinds on a clearly-irritated Squirrel’s back and panniers. “Pull her up already!” Squirrel grunted out.
Twilight blindly thrust a hoof upwards, too busy trying to stay upright to lean back and look. Rainbow’s hoof clapped into her own, pasterns linking well enough to heave her up. Scrambling, she threw her other arm up, getting a grip over the lintel; her hooves dropped out beneath her for just a few moments before she found herself getting shoved bodily upwards. With a wheeze, she managed to pull herself up, straddling the wood before hastily turning to tuck herself in beside Rainbow, her hinds finding the stack of junk.
“How are you so bad at that!?” Squirrel gasped out from below. “You only needed to hop the last few inches!”
“You were an unstable base! I could’ve fallen at any moment!”
“You were fine,” Squirrel said with a roll of her eyes. “Now scoot! I’ll show you how it’s done.”
Rainbow ducked down, noisily climbing down the stack. Twilight sidled over to her spot to give Squirrel some room, but still wanted to see how she’d manage it.
Once she’d doffed her gear, Squirrel reared up alongside the canoe before kicking off of it with enough force to jerk it to the side. She gained more than enough height to clasp onto the lintel and pull herself up; turning neatly on the wooden beam, she plunked down next to Twilight, looking smug.
“Yes, well, I’m smaller than you, aren’t I?” Twilight pouted, not meeting her eyes as she ducked down to join Rainbow.
The room they were in now looked pretty much the same as it did through the crack – a flooded floor, close walls, and a little alcove cut in to the side complete with rotted desk. The only thing they hadn’t noticed was a low doorway next to what could’ve once been some shelving.
Squirrel splashed down beside her as she made her way over, only keeping half an eye on Rainbow as the pegasus wandered towards the far exit and past the clumps of plants and eggs.
There wasn’t anything even close to salvageable in the mess – certainly nothing stout enough to pry the doors open with. “On that note,” Twilight mumbled to herself, glancing back at the doorway. With the ceiling this side mostly untouched by the collapse, the only thing blocking the doors was the stack of crates and barrels. “It shouldn’t be much trouble to move all that.”
“Probably built up by someone looking to come in this way,” Squirrel said, following her gaze. “Can’t see what else they’d’ve be doing.”
“So they won’t be holding the doors closed... which way do those hinges go?”
“Towards us?” Squirrel half-asked, stepping up to them for a closer look. “Broken and bent to heck, though – doors’ll probably pop right off with enough force.”
“We’ll want to keep clear of them, then,” Twilight hummed to herself. “Means we’ll need a longer pole than I’d hoped.”
“Nothing out here!” Rainbow called back to them from outside. “Nice view though!”
Twilight and Squirrel hurried out to meet her, taking care not to jostle the eggs in passing. They’d gone barely a dozen lengths before they were out, blinking in the harsh light. Once their eyes had adjusted, they found themselves on the slopes of a steep river-valley, an unending mountain range running either side. “The Coriander,” Twilight muttered, heart lifting at the sight. The river was wider than she’d’ve thought, and was filled with countless spots and sections of white, foaming rapids.
The small entrance they were at was nearly hidden amongst the bushes and trees. “I hope the river is calmer further downstream,” she worried; the mountain face they were on wasn’t sheer – cliffs blocked her view south, downriver.
“I could check it out?” Rainbow asked, giving her a questioning look.
The sky was nearly cloudless, and with the sun where it was it couldn’t be much past noon – plenty of daylight to ward off the creatures yet, if Rainbow’s reasoning was correct. “We’ll wait here,” Twilight nodded, smiling as she looked for somewhere warm to bask in the sun.
She flopped down on a nice, flat stone as Rainbow took off, Squirrel settling down near her. “Finally!” Squirrel sighed. “No more blasted mines.”
“Mmm,” Twilight hummed, not bothering to correct her – they did, after all, still need the canoe.
They lounged quietly for awhile before the sounds of wind-rustled grass was broken by a steady wumphing of wings. Scree shuffled underhoof as Rainbow landed, waking the two mares from their doze.
“It’s all clear ahead!” Rainbow practically pranced up to them. “Should just be a short walk to somewhere smooth enough for the boat! Or tumble, maybe – it’s kinda steep.”
Twilight sat up, shaking herself awake before responding. “Did you see where the river flows out of here? That was supposed to be where we’d end up, originally.”
In response, Rainbow pointed a hoof far upriver. “Somewhere over there – you can’t see it from here.”
Twilight nodded, satisfied – if they were downriver of that, they should be good. “We just need to find a pry, then.”
“Could knock down one of these trees?” Squirrel asked, glancing around at the hooffull of scrawny pines growing around them. “I’ve still got my hatchet in my pack.”
“Too thick to fit in the gap – we’ll need a metal bar, I think.”
Squirrel simply nodded as the trio ducked back inside the mine, pausing at the threshold while their eyes adjusted before plodding back into the checkpoint. “There was a little side door over here,” Twilight said as she tried to suppress the feelings of ill-ease that had cropped back up since reentering.
“Bit of a squeeze,” Rainbow noted. “Gonna be dark in there, too.”
“Let’s just be careful,” Twilight said, stepping up to the door. She took a deep breath and slowly tried the handle.
It was stuck.
She leaned her weight on it and pushed, but couldn’t get it to budge. Grumbling, she felt a nudge at her shoulder as Squirrel stepped up to her side.
“Let me try.” Twilight scooched back – there really was very little space back here – to let her give it a go.
Squirrel grunted, wrenching at it as hard as could before, with a crack, the handle snapped clean off. She huffed, throwing it aside to splash heavily in the water still lapping at their cannons. “Rusted to junk. We could kick it down?”
Twilight shot a concerned look at the eggs. “There’s no way that wouldn’t be noisy.”
“We’ve daylight right there,” Rainbow pointed out. “I saw lots of spots we could camp in for the night, too – really far away from the exit and everything.”
“Don’t know where we’d get a pry, otherwise,” Squirrel added. “Heck, for all we know this is just an empty closet and we’re walking the tunnels anyways.”
“I suppose I’m just jumping at shadows, aren’t I?” Twilight said, taking another few steps back to clear some room.
“We’ll be fine,” Rainbow assured her.
Turning around, Squirrel braced herself on her fores, hinds raised for a moment before lashing out against the ancient wood; there was a resounding bang as the door juddered and the frame cracked. She reared again and gave it another blow, the frame crumpling completely as the door slammed back, smashing against the wall with another almighty crash, the noise of it echoing well off into the distance.
The room inside was dark as pitch; even as Squirrel stepped forwards, the shard still around her neck glowing bright, they couldn’t make out the far wall. “Looks like some shelving,” she began, an odd warble to her voice as she backed out of the threshold. “And, uhh, webs? Lots of webs, yeah.”
Twilight didn’t know what she expected, but it certainly wasn’t that.
“Webs!?” Rainbow shouted, sounding equal parts spooked and excited. “These are spider-monsters!?”
“Uh huh,” Squirrel mumbled, still staring off into the dark. “We, uhh... we can walk to Hurricanum from here, right? ‘Cause I can grab our bags from the canoe and we can just walk it, right?”
“Are you kidding!?” Rainbow looked at her, aghast. “We’re practically out! Plus, like, we haven’t even found any treasure! Or at least a souvenir or something.”
It took a few moments for Twilight’s thoughts to reengage. “Hold on – webs?”
Squirrel didn’t seem too interested in poking her head back in. “I think so?”
“It’s just... spiders are normally pretty liberal about putting down their webs,” Twilight said, taking a few tentative steps towards the doorway. “We should’ve seen at least somescattered around by now.” Her horn glowed as she cast her lights, sending them throughout the next room.
Squirrel wasn’t entirely wrong – they certainly looked like spider webs. The room ran deep, a pair of doorways at its distant far end; crates and decrepit bunks lay about the place, but of greatest note were the long, ropey strands of... something, running from cracked ceiling to waterlogged floor in wide sprays and clusters.
“I don’t think those are webs...” Twilight trailed off, taking half a step into the room before remembering herself and backing off. “They look a little like vines, or roots, maybe.”
Squirrel squeezed in beside her, poking her own head in. “Looks close enough to me.”
Torn between caution and curiousity, Twilight once again took a half-step into the room. Concentrating her lights around the nearest bundle, she stepped closer. “They definitely seem plant-like,” she noted, thinking aloud. “Or maybe not? They’re quite fibrous.” The cords seemed to run through fissures in the ground before passing into circular holes in the ceiling – the same sort of hole from back in the main tunnel.
“Are they making these somehow?” she wondered, peering up into the hole. “Or...?” Without thinking, she plucked one of the cords, its twang sounding deep into the darkness above.
A spray of cold water splashed across her back, making her jump. “What are you doing!?” Squirrel hissed at her. “They’ll hear you!”
Blinking, Twilight hurried back out of the room. “I wasn’t thinking! Oh nooo – what if I’ve just called the horde down on us!?” She made to shove past the other two towards the exit. “We should leave!”
Rainbow’s wings flew out to gently batter her back. “Oh no you don’t! A few spider-thingies aren’t enough to stop us!”
“I don’t know, Rainbow,” Squirrel said, still keeping an eye and ear on the doorway. “I’m still all for walking the rest of the way.”
“Oh, don’t be such chickens,” Rainbow scoffed. “Stomping spiders’ll be gross and stuff, sure, but they can’t really hurt us.”
“But what if they’re venomous?” Twilight fretted, still eying the daylight behind.
Rainbow thought about it for a moment. “... I guess we’re walking, then?” She sighed, slumping. “Fiiine, we’ll walk.”
They hurried back outside to the comforting sunlight, the air still just as fresh and open as before. Sitting back down on the warm slab, Twilight tried to gather her thoughts; between the fresh air and the cool breeze, she was finding it much easier to think. “Right,” she began, feeling much calmer now. “Right. I think... I don’t think those came from any animals.” She tapped her hoof contemplatively against the dusty rock. “Too big; probably some sort of, well, vine.”
“A noisy vine, yeah,” Rainbow snorted. “Did you have to play it like a fiddle?”
“Shush,” Twilight said, fighting a blush. “I got carried away.” She was going to continue, but found her train of thought thoroughly derailed.
“So what’s the plan?” Squirrel finally asked.
“You know, you’re surprisingly deferential for a guide, Squirrel,” Twilight said as she tried to buy some time. She wasn’t displeased by this – just surprised given how sharp the mare had been when first they’d met.
Squirrel simply shrugged. “Well, it’s all your show now, isn’t it? Since Beech? Doesn’t really feel like my place to take charge here.”
“Fair enough.”
They lapsed back into silence for a minute before Squirrel spoke up again. “That said... what is the plan? Are we grabbing our packs and walking? Or are we, uh, going back into the dark in search of a pry?”
Unfortunately for Twilight, she hadn’t yet come to a conclusion on that. Oh well – when in doubt: democracy. “We could put it to a vote?”
“I vote walking.”
“Exploring! I wanna buck some spiders!”
Aaand democracy fails me. “Well that didn’t help much,” she muttered, checking the position of the sun again. “We’ve still got plenty of daylight; let’s just check out that first room – we’ll be near enough the exit to bolt if we need to.”
Squirrel sighed glumly, but didn’t protest as they headed back inside, Rainbow leading the way. “You know,” Squirrel said as they reached the darkened room. “No one mentioned anything about spider monsters in these mountains.”
“It does sound like something worth mentioning,” Twilight agreed. “Maybe your information’s really out of date?”
Rainbow snorted. “What do you mean, ‘maybe’?”
“What I mean is, no one mentioned anything about those creatures in the woods after Nestle either, did they?” Squirrel’s tail flicked antsily. “It’s just odd, is all.”
They paused at the threshold, Twilight’s lights illuminating the room and vines within. “It is rather odd, now that you mention it.”
“Knew it,” Rainbow said, a smug grin on her face. “The crazy locals really are trying to assassinate us!”
“Says the mare grinning at the prospect.”
“What? It wouldn’t be a real diplomatic mission without at least one murderous plot hatched against us!”
“... you’re crazy.”
Twilight splashed some water at them both. “Rainbow’s questionable sanity aside, I can’t exactly see how some third-party could manage to plant groups of dangerous animals along the way to heckle us, and yet also fail to do something far more effective – like stabbing us in our sleep.”
“Well that got dark fast,” Squirrel frowned. “Maybe your assassins thought sabotaging your airship would be enough?”
“Simple design-incompetence brought it down,” Twilight waved her off. “This is all probably a coincidence.”
“‘Probably’ isn’t a certainty though!” Rainbow insisted, looking giddy at the prospect. “They could even be assassining us as we speak!”
“That’s not – ” Twilight gave a guttural sigh as the pieces slid into place. “You’re teasing us, aren’t you.”
Rainbow giggled, flicking her with her tail. “Took ya long enough! Now let’s get exploring!” She led the way into the room, head on a swivel as she peered into every shadowed corner.
Twilight hummed as she joined her. “Teasing or not, there’s still the matter of these creatures being where we weren’t warned.”
“Probably just came out of the mountains, or something,” Rainbow said, leaning in to examine one of the vines; she reached out a hoof to touch it before apparently thinking better of it. “Or, I don’t know, it’s one of those things that are so obvious to everybody that nobody bothers saying it? Like, nobody told us it would dark in here or anything.”
Twilight was going to point out how ridiculous not warning people about dangerous animals would be before she noticed Squirrel shifting around guiltily. “Squirrel...” she drawled, narrowing her eyes. “What exactly were you told back in Nestle? About the Whither?”
“Nothing! I mean...” Squirrel squirmed under Twilight’s glare. “The deer I was talking to did say it could be dangerous for just a canoe, but I thought they meant because it was bad ground for camping on! Not that it was full of monsters.”
“And these mines?”
“Well... I didn’t actually ask anyone,” Squirrel admitted. “I figured nothing would’ve changed! Plus, you two got some info back in Nestle, didn’t you? When we separated? I know you mentioned that.”
Twilight slumped, dropping her gaze. “From some mare. She was wrong, it seems.”
“There you have it then,” Squirrel said. “No plot at all.”
The room itself was ultimately unremarkable, with whatever metal there was on the shelving either too thin or too rusted to be of any use to them; likewise, no matter how hard they strained their ears, they couldn’t make out any scuttling or scurrying that would presumably herald any curious creatures come to investigate them.
Weaving through the stalks, Twilight joined the other two at the far end, where a pair of doorways continued on.
“Already checked that one,” Rainbow said, bobbing her head towards one of them. “Dead-empty.” The other led down a long, foreboding-looking corridor, littered with more of the fibrous, viney plants.
“Alriiight,” Twilight frowned into the gloom. “I think... alright, I’m going to drop my light-spell – that way I’ll be ready if I need to cast something else in a hurry.” While the others fiddled with their shards, Twilight busied herself examining the floor ahead for pits in the water – just in case they needed to flee in a hurry.
Once the shards were lit Twilight dropped her spell, leaving her wreathed in darkness bar for the twin glows at her sides and the glints in the other mares’ eyes. “They’re wearing down,” she frowned, speaking in a hush. “We’ll have to be quick about this.”
“Let’s get going then,” Rainbow whispered back, taking the lead down the corridor, but far more cautiously in the dimmer light than before.
It felt like ages since they’d entered. The sloshing waters sounded eerily loud as they trudged on, accompanied only by their laboured breaths. Suddenly, a single, sharp clack echoed up at them. They halted, still as statues, ears sharp as they strained to hear anything more. Minutes passed with only the dull, distant plinking of waterdrops in the distance. Exhaling slowly, they carried onwards, all the more cautiously.
At the front, Rainbow stopped for a moment before awkwardly stepping over a glistening bulge on the path; coming up to it, Twilight had to keep herself from gagging – it looked like little more than a gigantic, shattered crab’s shell, but thinner-looking and blocky. A white-grey mush peeked out from underneath.
Unwilling to risk touching it, she hopped over it instead, landing back down with a splash. She tensed at the noise, wondering just what in the world they were doing here. Right as she was about to suggest that perhaps they really should just walk the rest of the way, there was a clattering far ahead.
“Are we stupid?” Squirrel whispered, coming up to her flank. “‘Cause all this feels like a really stupid idea.”
Rainbow crept back to them, a little yellowy light floating in the void. “We’re almost there guys,” she whispered. “Let’s just see what’s in the next room – if it looks too sus, we’ll turn around and go back outside.”
“It’s probably just water dripping up ahead...” Twilight added over the irregular clacking. As much as she didn’t want to press on, a part of her felt like she owed it to Rainbow to try – she’d spent too much of this trip haranguing her friend over this thing or that not to. “It’s a straight sprint back, too.”
Rainbow looked pleasantly surprised by her support. “Yeah! And if there are any spider-things, we just step on them, right? I mean, it’ll be gross and all, but we can do it.”
“Blind them, too,” Twilight muttered, nodding her head onwards. “I can overpower my lights in a pinch.”
Rainbow made a pleased sound as they continued on, the noise growing before them. It wasn’t long before the passage opened up into another room, its contents too far away to make out. Here, the clattering and clacking had resolved itself into a near-continuous chittering.
They hovered at the threshold, even Rainbow seemingly unwilling to press on. “Lights, maybe?” Squirrel whispered.
Twilight shook her head. “It might just attract attention.”
No one moved. “Well,” Rainbow said, grimacing as she took a half-step forwards. “We came all this way, didn’t we?”
The dim shard still hanging from her neck illuminated countless bits of rubble and clumps of floating junk in the water as she ducked under a thick bundle of sagging vines. Unwilling to let her carry on alone, Twilight hunched her shoulders and joined her, Squirrel following quickly in her wake.
She flinched at every tickle and sudden noise, as bits of plant like hanging moss brushed against her head. It wasn’t until she’d caught up to Rainbow that she realized, with how much they’d had to step and turn to get around things, she wasn’t entirely certain where the entrance was anymore.
She took a deep, calming breath before butting her head against Rainbow’s shoulder. “Stop,” she whispered urgently. “Stop! I don’t know where we came in anymore.”
Rainbow froze. “Then what – why are you over here!??” she hissed, worry evident in her voice. “I thought you were back there! With the light!” she added, turning sharply to face Squirrel.
“I didn’t want to be left alone,” Squirrel snapped back at her. “I don’t even want to be in this stupid tunnel! We could be walking right now, but nooo we’ve got to explooore.”
Twilight poked the mare in the ribs. “Not helping, Squirrel. Let’s just head back – I can still light things up properly if we really need to.” She was still hesitant to do so – more than once she thought she’d seen something large flitting about at the edge of the light.
Rainbow snarled, getting right into the other mare’s face. Before she could say anything, however, something heavy landed on Twilight’s back.
She squealed, instinctively kicking out her hinds and bucking whatever it was off. Her horn flared as she cast her lights as brightly as she could; the sudden glare – as bright as the sun – did little more than blind her in turn, her eyes snapping shut as she lost her concentration, plunging them back into a darkness that seemed all the deeper for it. Her eyes still watering too much to see, she stepped to where she thought Rainbow was, bumping up against her side. A fluffy wing clamped down on her as the chittering and splashing grew in intensity. “This way!” Rainbow seemed to shout into her ear as she felt herself pulled forwards.
She stumbled almost immediately, only to find herself braced again on her other side as they bumped and ploughed through whatever strange growths filled the chamber. Shaking her head, she tried to regain her sight before a glimmer at her side made her realize she never even lost it – they were just moving so quickly that there was little difference between being blind, and not.
A deeper darkness yawned before them as they bolted towards it, and into whatever passageway it was. They kept going, tripping and stumbling, as they fled the sounds behind them; soon, though, the noises started to fade, leaving them with little more than their own puffing and the splashing of their hooves to keep them company. “Stop,” Twilight coughed out, still being half-dragged along by the other two. “I can’t – stop.”
They drew to a halt, breathing heavily as they tried to get their bearings. “Well,” Rainbow huffed, taking a long, deep breath. “Fuck.”
“Sounds about right,” Squirrel muttered, pivoting in place as she took in their surroundings. Whatever part of the mine they were now, they were in a small room. Networks of vines hung like haphazardous webs all about the place. A pair of small creatures – too far away to see anything more than that they were barely a hoof high – fled from them along one of the walls, leaping from stone to stone and out of sight.
Twilight wondered for a moment why she could make them out so clearly before realizing that, hanging from the ceiling in long, fuzzy swathes, were blankets of softly-glowing mosses or lichens. She felt suddenly calmer as she focused on the otherworldly-beauty of it. “Bioluminescence!” she whispered, momentarily forgetting everything else. “I’ve always wanted to study it.” A shoulder-bump jerked her out of her reverie.
“Maybe later, Twi,” Rainbow said, fidgeting slightly. “We should probably try to get out of here, first.”
“Right,” Twilight said, giving her head a shake. Looking around, she saw the room they were in looked like it was once some sort of equipment hub. Judging by the metallic boxes, cylinders, and pipes running along the walls, it was probably a zephyr hub.
Her eyes followed a particularly thick bundling of pipes. “We could follow the pipes,” she suggested, her breath coming back to her. “Those ones there probably go to the main causeway.”
“No canoe,” Squirrel noted. “Don’t think we could swim all the way back to it.”
“Might be more rubble to hop across,” Rainbow countered.
“And it’s better than no plan at all,” Twilight added. She took a few steps towards the corridor the pipes ran down before deviating off to the side. A bundle of newly-burst eggs lay in a clutch near the broken base of some of the gear; hanging around them were a trio of small, soft-bodied bug-like things, looking a bit like four-legged crabs with another, shorter pair near their mouths. “Oh,” was all Twilight could say.
The other two stalked up next to her, their shards better illuminating the creatures. “Those are... those are the same things from the woods, aren’t they?” Squirrel said, head cocked to the side.
“Baby ones, yeah,” Rainbow agreed, leaning in for a closer look. The creatures skittered back, but didn’t otherwise seem at all threatened. “They don’t look hard, though.”
“Might be too immature,” Twilight mused. “Or they could’ve just undergone a molt? I don’t really know what these things are,” she added, frowning, as she tried her best not to get too distracted by the odd creatures. They looked around the dimly-lit room again, noting several more of the little things skittering about. Despite that the tunnel onwards was similarly lit, the muggy atmosphere in the current made it feel almost cozy – certainly, at least, she was content with waiting a few more minutes before leaving. Stepping up to some of the wirey vines, she scrutinized them as best she could, hoping to learn something useful. “There’s no light down here,” she muttered to herself. “At least, nothing strong enough to feed plants as big as this.” There was simply no way that the glowing mosses could hope to do so. “What are they feeding on, I wonder?”
Unfortunately, scrutiny alone couldn’t answer that. “Maybe they really are roots?” Squirrel suggested, poking at a few herself. “They’re definitely plants – I can feel that – but there’s something almost dim about them.”
Twilight nodded slowly. “That could work; either bored through the stone or wove their way down fissures.” Unlike before, there weren’t any circular holes for them to come through – perhaps it was just a coincidence before? “I suppose it doesn’t really matter, though.” She shook her head, quietly disappointed that she couldn’t afford to look into them further. “What I’m really worried about are these creatures – if this place is full of them, and they’re the same things from the forest, then what are we going to do? I think my light stunned them long enough for us to flee to... wherever we are now, but we can’t exactly count on that to keep working, can we?”
Squirrel snorted. “Seeing as it blinded us as well as them, I’m edging towards a ‘no’; it was just luck that got us out.”
“Mmm,” Twilight dithered, as she tried to figure their way out of this. “Before we go on – we know which door we came in through, right?”
As though reading her mind, Rainbow splashed over to one of the passageways, shoving and piling up some rubble in front of it. “Yup – it’s marked now.”
Twilight smiled in thanks. “And since we know we came in through a very long tunnel, we should be able to backtrack that way.”
“We’ll need your light for that, won’t we?” Squirrel half-asked. “Plus, all those creatures are still in there.”
“Not our first option, no, but it’ll do as a backup. We’ll need to keep track of where we’re going from here on – build some cairns or the like.”
“‘Cairns’ are those stacks of rocks, right? That look like rearing ponies?” Rainbow asked.
“Yep.” Twilight took another long, deep breath. “Well, time’s wasting – shall we continue?” With a couple of nods, they started down the pipe-hung passage, taking care to be light in their steps.