//------------------------------// // Chapter Twenty // Story: Rats In The Belfry // by Beegirl Scribbler //------------------------------// Celestia and Grogar both turned to see who had spoken. In turn, they both groaned. Auros looked around, beaming. “My goodness, but that is a long walk. I don't know how you all manage it. I—hey!” Grogar had rammed the unicorn, knocking him off the cliff. Celestia hobbled towards the edge of the peak in time to see a silver flash from below. Unbelievably rude. Grogar and Celestia looked down. Clinging to the mountain's edge was a cat-sized red praying mantis. It looked up at them with its large compound eyes. That creature is akin to a mosquito, Grogar, it said in their minds. Swat it and it just flits out of reach. Grogar leaned down, voice reduced to a low growl. “Echechak. I suppose you are here as well to—” Celestia cast her spell and there was a flash of golden light. The explosion send both Grogar and Echechak flying over the edge. Celestia watched them fall a moment, then turned away, having no desire to see them hit the ground. Turning, she bumped right into Grogar. The ram eyed her with a mixture of anger and...something else. “You pushed me.” “Blasted you, technically,” Celestia muttered. She was getting a bit dizzy—the final attempt had cost her the last of her magic, including that which protected her from the cold. “Not so honorable attacking an enemy from the rear.” “Well, I got angry.” Celestia looked up at Grogar, heart filling with new determination. “And my duty to Equestria comes first.” “Even in death, then.” Grogar's bell started to move. “I guess so.” Celestia braced for impact. What would it be like to die, she wondered? Would it hurt? “Okay...” The voice sounded a bit winded, but it remained as irritating as always. “...now I'm mad. I guess I'll have to dispense with the politeness.” Grogar and Celestia exchanged looks and turned again. Auros stood by the mountain's edge once more. Seated on his shoulder was Echechak. This time, a silvery forcefield surrounded him. “Alright, everypony.” He looked around, giving a dangerous grin. “Hooves up everypony who didn't lose the key to their front door!” “I tire of these games.” Grogar's bell began to ring. As snow rose into the air, condensed into razor-sharp icicles, and soared straight at Auros, the unicorn coughed. The icicles began shattering against the shield even as more formed. Auros rubbed his neck. “Um, maybe you should stop doing that.” The icicles kept smashing against the shield. Celestia saw cracks starting to form in its metallic surface. “Really. Stop it.” The shield began to emit a low whine. Lord Grogar, Echechak snapped, I took the liberty of enlisting this troublemaker in the crafting of a seal. Tambelon will no longer acknowledge you as its ruler, so I suggest you cooperate. Grogar snarled. “Do you expect me to believe a word of that?” Auros eyed the crumbling shield. “If we die, you'll never know where the key went.” Grogar appeared to consider this. The icicles began aiming only for Auros. “Echechak doesn't know!” Auros said, tone getting a bit comically high-pitched. “We worked together on the seal, but I'm the one who infused the key.” He gave a desperate smirk. “My personal condition for such a dangerous mission. Kill me and lose everything.” “You're a liar.” “The bug isn't, though. You don't get chosen as the Gods' Assassin by being untrustworthy.” Grogar looked between Auros and Echechak. Celestia could tell he desperately wanted an excuse to doubt them, but there was none to be found. For all his cowardice, Auros was capable of sabotaging Grogar's control if given proper direction, and Echechak knew better than anyone the workings of immortals. Grogar finally gave a sigh. The icicles in the air fell to the ground, and no more rose. “So be it.” Immediately Auros's look was triumphant. He trotted over, giggling. “Well, isn't that lovely.” “Osmosis,” Echechak hissed warningly. Auros patted Grogar on the shoulder. “I don't see why you're so bothered about losing that old dump, though. I bet you'll make a wonderful vagrant!” “We've already won, Auros,” Celestia said. “There's no need to bait him!” “Right, right, my apologies, Princess.” Auros gave a little bow. “Far be it from me to question the wisdom of a goddess! I'm just very glad that Grogar had the brains to acknowledge his betters.” “You try my patience, worm,” Grogar said, trembling with rage. “What doesn't? You've lost your temper at grass growing!” Auros laughed at his own joke. Grogar lifted a bushy white eyebrow, then glanced at Celestia. “Well, Princess, as the resident expert on anger...” A bell began to ring as Grogar's tone lowered to a hiss. “What happens when we lose our tempers, again?” “Ahem. Princess, with all due respect, you appear to have strayed past my line. Again.” Celestia ignored Fancypants and continued pacing. “You've done it again. Are you absolutely determined to disregard my requests?” “You are the worst inmate I could ever ask for, Count. “Yes, well.” Fancypants scowled. “Really, Princess, you're not exactly a basket of roses yourself. Perhaps a collection of thorns sprayed with artificial rose-scented perfume, at best.” Celestia looked over at him, struggling to contain her fury. “And exactly what have I done to bother you?” “Ignored me since your arrival. Drank the last of my fine whiskey.” There was a pink flash from behind Celestia, but she didn't look to see what it was. “And I told you, the last thing we need is a drunken noble running around making a mess!” Fancypants turned up his nose. “Oh, yes, and a drunken alicorn was so much better. You damaged the carpeting.” “Hi, guys! I'm here to save the day!” “The carpeting. Is fog.” Celestia approached Fancypants and tapped the ground twice to emphasize her words. “There is no carpet.” “You dissipated the fog with your spells.” Celestia's eyes glowed gold. “I was trying to get us out of here!” “Uh, guys?” “Besides,” Celestia went on, “the fog came back!” “A different shade.” “How can you tell, you deranged fop?” “Now, really. There's no need for name-calling, Mulestia.” “Can you guys even hear me? Helloooo! Right behind you, Celly!” Celestia's eyes widened. “You did not say that!” “Really?” Fancypants cocked his head. “How odd, I seem to recall that I did.” Celestia's horn started glowing. “That's it. That's the last straw!” “Oh, what are you going to do now?” Fancypants sniffed, adjusting his cracked monocle. “Recolor the ceiling?” “Guys, c'mo—oh, nevermind. I'll just do it myself.” Celestia's horn started to glow brighter, though she wasn't exactly sure what she planned to do. Fancypants isn't even a tenth my age, she thought, groaning inwardly. I can't hit him. She heard what sounded like sawing from behind her but kept her focus on Fancypants. Maybe I can just destroy his monocle. That would show him. Fancypants's eyes never left Celestia's. He looked a bit annoyed. “What's taking so long? Are you frightened?” Oh, what did he just say? That's it. I'm shattering it so it hits his eye! As the sounds of several explosions came from behind, along with a duck's frantic quacking and a “Whoops!”, Celestia began to summon the magics to conjure up a poltergeist. Immediately, though, she felt guilty. What am I doing? I've been here too long. I can't maim an innocent nobleman just because of a bit of cabin fev— “Honestly, I'm rather disappointed...” Fancypants's eyes gleamed evilly. “...Clucklestia.” Celestia froze. A great crash came from behind, but she barely noticed it. “How...how did you know my Summer Camp nickname?” He couldn't possibly know it. Luna swore she'd never tell a soul! Fancypants blinked. “Beg pardon?” Celestia's eye twitched. “Oops.” He knows too much. Kill him. Kill him now. “Wait, your nickname used to be—aha! Now we're cookin'!” As Celestia prepared to commit murder—or at least aggravated assault, she hadn't decided yet—a great BOOM echoed throughout both sides of the infinite space. Celestia and Fancypants turned in shock. Pinkie Pie stood there in a white lab coat, her ordinarily frizzy hair now utterly wild, wearing a fake white mustache. She stood before a chalkboard, throwing her chalk in the air with deranged glee. “Eureka! I haff made zee breakthrough, mein Prinzessin!” Staring blankly, Celestia and Fancypants both leaned to the right to see what Pinkie had written. S = MJ² I = S² (W/T) (B · P) ÷ I B = Buck P = Physics I = Pinkie Pie The world began to shake. Luna had entered a cavern chamber at least ten times the size of Canterlot Castle. Stalactites from high above leaked constant flows of salty water and emitted shrill sobs that hurt to focus on. There were countless shadows, even where it made no sense for them to exist—such as right beside one of the glowing stalagmites that served as light sources. Aside from the glowing stalagmites, there were quite a few ordinary ones. Assuming 'ordinary' meant 'tentacled cone-shaped creatures that let out great screams whenever anything came near and tried to grab and choke to death whatever could be reached'. And it didn't. There were no ordinary stalagmites. There were more doors than Luna could count; in the floor, in the walls and in the ceiling. Every single one of them had some sort of lock, though some could only be seen by magic. Far ahead was the largest trapdoor of them all, protruding out of the floor and back wall like the entrance to a root cellar. In front of it was a desk built out of beings begging to be released—to be pardoned for crimes too horrific to describe. At the desk sat a hooded equine whose face changed every time Luna looked away. The only things that remained at least somewhat reliable were the eyes: blinking between colors fast enough that anypony with epilepsy would collapse after just a second of exposure. All in all, Luna reflected, Tartarus was about the same as ever. She walked up toward the far-off desk. Reality seemed to bend as she moved, so a journey that should have taken at least an hour took instead just a few seconds. Before she knew it she was at the desk, and the pony-like creature was staring at her in puzzlement. “Your arrival is not scheduled,” it murmured. Its voice was that of an old pony of uncertain gender, weak enough to make one want to stop talking to it just to spare it the pain of having to answer. Luna knew that this was just how the Scribe talked, though. “I...must make some visits.” “Hm. Yes, yes, yes.” The Scribe rubbed its forehead. “I...I can't seem to remember. The Mantis, yes? Former assassin of the gods?” “That is correct.” “You passed him by.” The Scribe raised a trembling hoof, pointing back towards the Gate. Luna turned. Indeed, she now noticed a small golden shape at about the midway point. She turned back. “Thank you. And where is Tirek?” “Tirek?” The Scribe frowned. It kept rubbing its forehead. “I...I do not know. The caves and masters change, but the tears remain the same.” It pointed up towards the stalactites. “The tears never hit the ground. 'Why is that?', I ask. But no-one listens to me...” Luna put a hoof on The Scribe's shoulder. “I always listened, Scribe.” “Not for...a long time.” The Scribe's eyes turned solid black for a moment. Then it bowed its head, seeming to sink back into the robe until only darkness could be seen. It spoke again, voice deeper. “We forget because we are forgotten. That has always been our way...” Luna had already started walking back. The journey took longer this time, though the distance was shorter. In a few minutes she stood over a ball of amber the size of her hoof. She looked inside and her heart sank. “Oh, Echechak,” she muttered. “What have they done to you?” Inside the ball of amber, Echechak eyed her inscrutably. Luna heard a voice in her mind. They have done nothing. This 'prison' is of my own making. As long as I remain within, my enemies cannot lay a finger on me. “Then you can leave?” I can. I choose not to. She levitated the ball of amber into the air and rested it on her back. “I am going to find Tirek.” And what makes you think he will want to be found? Luna hesitated. Then she started walking.