Golden Prose

by Field

4

The clock on the wall read 12:45 in the afternoon when I finally awakened from the deep sleep I’d fallen into on the couch. I was a little sore from trying to keep all my limbs tucked onto the couch cushions while I slept. Apparently I’d had a resurgence of foalish fears of some under-the-furniture monster that would gobble up any hooves that dangled over the edge of the sofa. Given the things I had seen the night before it almost seemed like a legitimate fear.

I yawned and stretched, looking around the room to remind myself where I was. I thought I had remembered Golden Prose saying last night that she wanted to head into the forest at noon, but that hour was nearly passed. Why the mare hadn’t woke me up to keep that appointment, and the mares current location in general were a mystery to me at the moment.

“Golden Prose?” I called out, getting to my hooves and doing my best to straighten out my wrinkled vest. All the lights in the house were still on, but now the curtains were all open as well. That was at least some reassurance that she had still been here after the sun came up.

“In here, Moss.” The mare’s voice rang out from the kitchen. She didn’t sound as refreshed as I felt. It was understandable that she would have slept worse than me. Sure my house was an ash pile, but at least I knew that. She had no idea what was happening to her colt right now.

Trotting into the kitchen I found Golden Prose sitting on a bar stool at the granite topped kitchen island adjacent to the stove and fridge. She looked like she had fixed herself a meager breakfast of fruit and then barely picked at it. On the counter before her was the copy of Kept from Sleep, but now she seemed to be almost halfway through it.

“Did you stay up all night reading that stupid Shining Dawn book? I thought we needed to get to the Everfree by noon so we’d still have some daylight to burn.” Taking what I thought was a well-earned personal liberty I trotted over to the mare’s coffee maker and began preparing a pot.

Golden Prose looked up from the book only high enough to glance at the digital clock on the range. Even from here I could see that her eyes were terribly bloodshot. I couldn’t tell if it was from crying or lack of sleep, or any combination of the two.
“I thought you could use the rest…” She replied weakly. “And I guess I got wrapped up in the book. I didn’t sleep well… nightmares… so I started reading to take my mind off of it.”

I wanted to ask her about the nature of her nightmares, but she seemed in no condition to elaborate. She seemed in no condition to do anything, really. That was a problem considering the fact that we needed brave the heart of the Everfree Forest before dark.

Tapping my hoof impatiently on the marble countertop as black coffee trickled from the machine into the waiting pot below, a thought occurred to me. “We should find a supply shop in town before we do anything. We need better flashlights and batteries, lots of batteries. I want to have my flashlight on even in the daylight while we’re in the forest.” I paused for a moment, unsure if Golden Prose was even listening. “I don’t even know if you can even buy a gun in a little town like this… but I was hoping you might try using your sway as a famous author to get us another gun without going through the waiting period.”

The more I’d thought about it the idea of going hoof to hoof with anymore shadows became less and less appealing. What if the darkness could spread from one pony or inanimate object to another? Keeping as much distance between them and myself as possible seemed safest, and to do that I would need a gun of my own.

Apparently realizing that I had no intention of shutting up anytime soon, Golden Prose closed her book and sighed. “That all sounds good, but I think we should split up for the shopping so we don’t attract any unwanted attention. You go find everything and anything that lights up in town. I’ll see what I can do as far as things that go bang. ”

The coffee seemed to perk Golden Prose up to a bit more functional level before we parted ways. I even thought I saw her smile when I went slack jawed at the large pouch of bits she tossed my way to cover the cost of flashlights and batteries. It didn’t surprise me that she was the type to get a kick out of showing off her money, even in these circumstances.

Even though I wanted to get our supplies together quickly before we lost anymore daylight I knew there was one place I had to visit first. I trotted across town, past city hall, and into the neighborhood where The Hayrack diner stood. None of the glaring neon lights offended my eyes today, the building was lifeless.

As I approached I could see police tape blocking the front door, and as I rounded the building I discovered it across the kitchen door as well. Just beyond the tape in the kitchen doorway I could see one of the town sheriff’s deputies interviewing the waitress who had served me the day before. There were no other deputies around that I could see, so I crept up along the wall to eavesdrop.

“…he had been upset for a while but it really came to a head after he finally gave up the keys to his brother’s place. The stallion he sold it to seemed so nice the first day he came in to pick up the keys, but then he came back later in the week and he was like a completely different pony. He insisted on speaking to Jack again, but whatever he said to him upset him so badly he had to leave in the middle of his shift. Then the stallion, Mossy Hooves I think he’d said his name was, just sat there smug as could for a few minutes and then left. It was really strange, but Jack did eventually come back that day.”

What? No, that wasn’t right. I had only met Hardtack Jack once and that was yesterday. I had only gotten here yesterday, how could what she said be possible?

“Oooh, who are we spying on?” A voice whispered in my ear and I felt a gentle hoof on my shoulder. My heart shot into my throat and I whipped around, ready to shove and run. Unfortunately I was far from graceful and the pony stepped back quickly, avoiding my shove and sending my hooves scraping across the wall a bit noisier than I would have liked.

“What was that?” The deputy in the kitchen stirred. Before I knew it I had been yanked around the corner of the diner and into a small patch of shrubbery out of the law pegasus’ view.

My attacker pinned me to the ground and held my mouth shut magically, hiding behind my prone form perhaps hoping my brown coat made for adequate camouflage. I recognized her sunglasses before anything else; it was the DJ Vinyl Scratch. She gave me a sly smile and held her hoof in front of her lips to shush me.

We laid there in the bushes until the deputy headed back inside the diner. Vinyl Scratch released me from her magical grip and I immediately scrambled away from the still grinning pony. “Colt, you have got to be the worst spy I’ve ever met.” She chided playfully.

“I was doing just fine until you snuck up and scared the horse-apples out of me.” I hissed back, still worried that the deputy might hear us. “What in Luna’s name were you doing anyway?”

Vinyl Scratch waved a hoof dismissively and removed her glasses to check the lenses for dirt from the tumble. “You’re a hard pony to keep track of, Mossy Hooves. I really didn’t appreciate that little stunt at the diner last week. I haven’t seen hide nor hair of Golden Prose since you two ditched me, but I figured if I found you again you might be able to help me out with that-”

“Hold on, hold on, hold on.” I cut her off abruptly, waving a hoof in her face and nearly knocking her sunglasses aside. “What do you mean last week? I just saw you yesterday!”

The DJ’s face contorted in confusion, then her eyes widened in a realization. “You’ve been on some kind of crazy week-long bender, haven’t you?” A look crept across her face that might have been mistaken for pity. “I guess that explains the house fire… you know, as badly as I want that interview I think you should probably check into a clinic before you make things any worse for yourself.”

So the DJ had a heart; who knew? I grimaced and shook my hooves in the air with frustration. “Do I look like some kind of strung out junkie to you?” Don’t answer that. “I really don’t have the time or patience to explain this to you right now. If you’ll just let me do what I need to do and keep your mouth shut about it I swear I will give you that interview; I’ll even make sure Golden Prose talks to you as well. Cross my heart.”

“And hope to fly? Stick a cupcake in your eye?”

“What?”

“Sorry, been hanging around a friend too much.”

“Whatever, but does it look like I’m going to be able to hide from the authorities long anyway? I just need an hour or so.” I started to trot away from the cerise-eyed mare but she was on me again in a heartbeat.

“That ketchup thing not withstanding you don’t seem to be that much of a jerk, so I guess I’ll give you one more chance. But there is one condition. If you want me to keep my mouth shut then I stick by your side until we finish whatever it is you’re doing. You bail on me and Deputy Ironbars gets an earful. DJ Pon3 doesn’t fall for the same trick twice.” She had that smug look on her face again knowing she had me between a rock and a hard place. I was really starting to get tired of her.

“Are all talk show DJs as annoying as you?”

“Just the late night ones. It’s a special privilege.”

The hardware store we’d wound up in had a wide array of flashlights to choose from. Originally I had been limiting myself to models I could easily carry in my mouth or headlamps that I could wear, but neither had the kind of power I wanted. Vinyl Scratch had had the brilliant idea to get two heavy duty Maglites and latch them into the straps of my saddlebags so that they were mounted on my sides, angled to illuminate the same point light headlights.

“So you and Golden Prose are really really afraid of the dark these days?” She teased as I loaded up my cart with every D-cell battery I could lay my hooves on. If I had told her what we needed the lights for she definitely would have gone back to thinking I was strung out on something. It was just easier to let her tease me for now.

“Yes, absolutely terrified. Things like you come out at night, after all.” I retorted with more than a hint of annoyance in my voice.

“Touchy, touchy. You have to admit that this-“ She levitated one of the emergency flares I had found out of the cart. “-this is not on a normal pony’s shopping list. How do you expect to maintain a low profile when you buy stuff like this?”

“I’m not going to look suspicious because I’m not going to buy it. You are.” I reached into my saddlebag and tossed her the pouch of bits Golden Prose had given me. “If you’re going to follow me around the least you can do is provide a little more assistance than just color commentary.”

My saddlebags were loaded to the brim with supplies and I still had a few bits leftover as Vinyl Scratch and I headed back across town to Golden Prose’s condo. She showed me the best route to remain mostly out of sight. I had no doubt that the deputy would more than love to make my acquaintance sooner rather than later to discuss the house fire and my apparent dealings with a now missing cook.

Golden Prose hadn’t yet returned from her half of the shopping when the DJ and I reached the condo. The place was still just as much of a mess as we’d left it. Vinyl Scratch whistled with amusement as she took in the minor devastation. “Geez, I would have never pegged Prose as being such a party animal, especially with that little colt of hers around. What did you do to the poor mare?”

I shot her a look and dumped out the contents of my bags onto the coffee table. The copy of In Her Dreams to Prevail tumbled out on top of everything else. I had forgotten that the book was even in there. It didn’t feel like all that long ago I had thought I was going to get to relax in a hotel room and read it. How times changed.

“So are you and her… you know…?” Vinyl Scratch parked herself on the couch and began to sort through the supplies, as if making herself useful would make the question less intrusive.

I couldn’t help but laugh out loud as I took a seat on the floor on the other side of the table and began dividing up the emergency flares. This was no time to be laughing but the assertion was too absurd. “Believe me, I’m probably the last pony she wants to be stuck with to deal with this. Neither of us have much choice in the matter.” I knew that traumatic events had a way of bonding ponies together quickly, but I certainly wasn’t feeling that kind of bond

Vinyl pouted and threw herself backwards against the couch. “Damn, and here I thought I’d get some good gossip before the tabloids.” She wriggled against the back of the couch again, listened, and then jammed a hoof down between the cushions. I narrowed my eyes as her hoof reemerged with a scrap of scroll. How could I have missed that when I had spent the night there?

She slid up her sunglasses and unrolled the piece of paper, placing it atop the pile of supplies so that we could read it.

“There is a fair chance that this means they’re going to show up here any minute now.” I blurted out nervously, cramming my half of the supplies into my saddlebags. “We should probably be ready to leave at a moment’s notice.”

The DJ gave me a sideways look, not sharing my sense of urgency. “What in Celestia’s name are you going on about? It just looks like part of a story.”

Before I could even offer some creative lie about why we should be worried, the front door swung open in a burst of golden magic. Much to my relief however it was Golden Prose who stepped inside. She blinked several times in surprise at the sight of Vinyl Scratch, who only offered a cheerful wave in response.

Before Vinyl could derail anyone’s train of thought I showed Golden Prose the newly discovered manuscript page, much to her dismay. The second revelation that we both seemed to be missing a week’s worth of time only made things worse.
“So I could have been in the forest for a week? And you did have a chance to talk to Bookmark in the daytime…” She trailed off all by herself but I still gave her a wide eyed stare and a not-in-front-of-the-talk-show-host head shake. Remarkably she got the message.

“Then what are the chances that guard isn’t talking about this address?” She asked nervously, loading her half of the supplies into her saddlebags. She didn’t even question the flares, a fact which seemed to throw Vinyl off even more.

“Slim to none. And I wouldn’t feel safe hoping that the scene didn’t take place sometime earlier in the week either. I saw Ironbars at The Hay Rack forty five minutes or so ago and that royal guard was nowhere in sight. He would have had to go back to the station to meet him and share those records. We should consider relocating pronto.”

“You can hide out at my studio! It’s pretty far outside of town.” Vinyl Scratch piped up. “And maybe while you’re there we can do some, you know, interviews. I can just record them to play back later so it doesn’t blow whatever cover you two are trying to maintain here.”

Golden Prose and I looked at each other and silently agreed. It would be a longer, more roundabout route to the Everfree; but it was better than getting the Canterlot Royal Guard tangled up in the matter. If royalty was interested in whatever was going on here then it was a whole new level of serious.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The sound of a heavy iron-shoed hoof against the front door reverberated through the small bungalow. “Royal Guard! Open this door in the name of your Princesses!” We were too late.

There wasn’t even time to run. The door burst open with a spray of wooden splinters as the frame around it nearly disintegrated. The guard had bucked it open as easily as if he were kicking through a sliver of balsa wood. I hated to imagine what those hooves would do to the skull of a pony resisting arrest.

His horn glowing with a blue magical aura, the guard stepped inside where we could see him. He looked to be of typical royal guard stock. He sported the white coat and blue mane hidden under legionnaire styled golden armor. His eyes were a cold gray the betrayed his intentions more than anything else.

“Golden Prose! Mossy Hooves! You will submit now for questioning concerning the disappearance of Hardtack Jack. Any resistance will be viewed as a hostile act and I will respond as such.” His eyes screamed ‘just give me a reason’.

I couldn’t help myself; I wasn’t going to be caught here. I made a step towards the kitchen and the backdoor that waited there. That was all the provocation the guard needed. A blast of blue magical energy shot from his horn and blasted a small hole in the floor in front of me, spraying splinters up into my chest.

The blast knocked the other two from their stupor and Golden Prose zoomed past me into the kitchen. Vinyl Scratch wasn’t as swift on her hooves this time around and stumbled to get over the table as the guard opened up with another magical salvo. I jumped back and to the side, barely avoiding the magic. These were not stunning bolts meant to incapacitate us, he meant to kill us.

“What’re yah doing! Have yah lost your mind!?” A voice from outside shouted and Deputy Ironbars swooped into the room and rammed into the guard’s side. The blow took them both off their hooves and onto the floor. Vinyl and I took our chance and fled to the kitchen.

I felt a magical tug at my saddlebags and began to thrash, certain that the guard was on his feet and lashing out at me. When I finally looked over my shoulder I could see that the guard was indeed on his feet again, but Vinyl Scratch had stopped behind me. In her magical grip in front of her horn she held one of my emergency flares.

“Go, I’ll be fine.” She grinned smugly, blew me a sarcastic kiss, and then slid her sunglasses back down over her eyes.

I heard the crack of the flare igniting and suddenly the kitchen was awash with a blinding red light. I ran and didn’t look back after that for fear that I would be rendered temporarily blind by the bright glow. The guard would be lucky to regain his vision by nightfall as close as he had been.

Maybe the DJ wasn’t so bad after all.