As I walked into the lobby of Sunny Skies Inn, each creak of the floorboards sent some of the tension drifting off behind me. The wall was a faded blue, with the odd bright spot clinging to the past. Two once-white benches flanked the door, while an inactive fireplace sat in the left wall. Trying a bit hard for my tastes, but I did have to admit that it was rather homely.
The innkeeper, an old unicorn stallion, sat behind a rickety, wooden desk. I was almost afraid if I breathed at it the wrong way, it would come crashing down. However, the apparent impending burial didn’t seem to concern him.
The stallion looked up, wearing a wide grin on his large, brown muzzle as it poked out from under his bushy grey forelock. “Hey, there! Welcome to the Sunny Skies! Name’s Earnest Care.”
I stopped short, the town’s mood leaving me unprepared for his enthusiasm. My smile was comparatively half-baked. “Um, hi. I’m Dusky Down. I was hoping to get a room.”
“Ah, yes. We’ve got plenty of those,” Earnest replied. His horn lit up and a few papers rustled over each other. “Will that be a regular room or one of our deluxe suites?”
One of? Usually, it was the deluxe suite. I was almost curious, but decided I’d rather not wreck my budget. Regardless, I wondered if Pasture used to be a bigger deal than it was, or if it was Earnest who thought his place was a bigger deal than it was.
“Just a regular, thanks.”
“All righty. One regular, it is.” He scribbled on one of the papers. “And how many nights?”
“Just the one.”
“Really? Just passin’ through, eh?”
I nodded. “Ran into a wild storm on the road and had to make a detour up here.”
“Can’t blame you. Been in my fair share of ‘em and let me tell you, they ain’t pleasant.”
“Not at all.” I tapped a hoof, wondering if I should try to get something out of him. He seemed cheerful enough and the lobby was completely dead. In the end, I decided to go for it. “Speaking of storms, you seem to have a different kind brewing over here.”
Earnest’s face grew serious and he snorted. “The militia? Bah, don’t mind them. They’re just on another one of their witch hunts.”
“Hunting what?” I was certain I knew the answer, but a part of me wanted there to be more to it than old folklore.
“Somepony ‘saw’ the Necromancer making a move toward the town.” He raised his hooves and made a pair of air quotes. “Now everypony’s up in arms, looking for a fight. Why the mayor allows it is beyond me.”
“You don’t sound very impressed.”
“You wouldn’t be either if you saw how frequently this happens. Besides, even if they weren’t chasing ghosts, something like that calls for the Guard, not some over-eager pups with twigs.” Earnest waved a forehoof.
As much as I had reservations about the Guard, even a squad of corrupt soldiers would likely be as effective as their entire militia. Then a thought struck me. “I didn’t see anyone official out there. I take it they aren’t very impressed, either?”
“Mayor’s done his fair share of crying wolf too, so they ain’t exactly chomping at the bit.”
I blinked, the statement taking a second to register. “Really? The mayor? If he’s like that, why would anypony stick with him?”
“Because he tells them the militia’s supposed ‘show of power’ scares her—off.” His pause was so short that it was barely there, something I’d have dismissed if I hadn’t caught the twitch of his ear. “And they want to believe it.”
“Huh.” I frowned inwardly. It was time to give it a rest, which was a shame since we were in the middle of the juicy stuff. In the end, I figured it was for the best, given that I wasn’t exactly looking for trouble. “Well, I think I’ll just stay clear of the whole thing.”
“Smart mare. Oh, and that’ll be ten bits.”
---
My room was not unlike those of the dozens of other small towns I’d visited. Except there was usually more brown than blue. Nevertheless, it had the standard stiff-looking bed, the dresser whose drawers would go unused and a small, round table.
The first order of business was to check my scarf, namely to make sure moisture hadn’t collected and found its way into the sheath. Some ponies might balk at the idea of keeping a wingblade so close at hoof, but a lone mare on the road needs to be prepared. As it turned out, everything was quite dry.
Next, I swung my hip, tossing my flight satchels onto the table. I gave each bag a once-over, looking for tears, not that I was expecting any. Four years of use had shown me that Rarity’s nylon was worth every bit of its hefty price. But neglect leads to catastrophe, so I take stock when I can.
Undoing the buckle, I slipped the flap open and poked my muzzle in. Despite the rough trip, everything was still more or less how I’d left it. I nudged the rolled-up map aside and snatched my hair brush.
I trotted over to the dresser and peered at the mare in the mirror. She stared back, her teal eyes scrutinizing me. Her coat was ruffled in a few places, nothing a quick touch-up couldn’t fix. I slipped the brush onto my wing and worked my way around my body.
Next, I noticed a few strands of my mane had pulled themselves loose. I frowned as I undid my hair tie. Predictably, I spent the next few minutes fighting with my mane before it finally straightened out. With the tie replaced, I moved on to my forelock and tail, the latter being just as stubborn as my mane, while the former was practically a pushover.
With my grooming complete, I set the brush aside, turned to leave and stopped. One side of my scarf had pulled the other lopsided. A quick tug later and I was all set to go.
Perfect. Now where’s that bar?
---
The tavern was, as expected, rather small. As I glanced over the worn wooden tables and chairs, I wagered sixty ponies could fit comfortably inside. Which probably meant they’d crammed in at least one hundred at some point or other.
At that moment, though, the day’s excitement seemed to be keeping the youths out on the street, leaving a paltry dozen or so patrons. On the one hoof, that meant slim pickings for me. On the other, no suspicious zealots breathing down my neck.
I trotted up to the counter where a couple stallions were getting well acquainted with their beers. I slid up beside them and ordered a cider for myself. It wasn’t particularly flavourful, but then again, not everything can be Sweet Apple Acres quality.
“So she says, ‘I sheen him with my own eyes!’ and when I asked if she had anypony else with her, she said, ‘no.’ Imagine that,” said the closest stallion, a wide, red-coated pegasus with a crooked bowler’s hat. Judging by his gut, this wasn’t his first night of beer binging.
“Hah, that’sh foals fer ya! Alwaysh tryin’ to find ways to butt heads with the toughest thing on the block.” The other stallion, a brown-coated earth pony dressed in a tie and collar, shook his head. This one had a combed mane, which was balanced out by his fetlocks. Half the mug would disappear when he reached for it. He even seemed a bit chiseled in places, although that was ruined by a beer gut that was a twin to his buddy’s.
“Sho true.” The pegasus stared at his drink as though it had the most profound message written on it. “Say, what if, one of these days, they do find the real deal? Think we gonna have to bail them out?”
The earth pony chuckled. “Pro’bly. Y’see them swing those things around? Couldn’t hit the broadside o’ a barn if you ask me.”
“Mmmm, no kidding. Rate they’re going, we’ll die of old age. When they bag themselves a zombie, then we’ll talk. Hey, barkeep! Fresh one here!” The pegasus swiveled his stool, finally looking in my direction. “Hey, look, Mocha! Got one schmart mare in here.”
Mocha squinted past his buddy. “‘Cause she ain’t from around here.”
“Ya don’t say.” The pegasus stared at my cutie mark. And kept staring.
“Naw, I do say.” Mocha frowned. “Pay attention, Cedar!”
I cleared my throat, feigning confusion. “Me, smart? Just for being here? I’m afraid I don’t understand, being an out-of-towner and all.”
Cedar perked up and grinned. “Well, today’s your lucky day, missy. ‘Cause I’m all in the know.”
Practically on a silver platter. Leaning forward, I cocked my head. “All in the know, huh?”
“Yep. Y’shee, we been getting ponies coming into town, talking about zombie attacks and stuff. Some got hurt, but most got away okay. Zombies ain’t exactly known for their fastness, y’know. Got some dead ones turning up, but pretty much all look to be bandits.”
“Bandits?” I blinked, wondering if the townsfolk had tried drawing the connection yet. Highwayponies getting creative were certainly more believable than true, blue zombies. But then why do the bandits turn up dead?
“Small time tough guys.” Cedar waved a hoof. “Maybe too tough for their own good.”
The place was definitely more complex and dangerous than my sunny walk had led me to believe. However, it was something I knew better than to stick my muzzle into. I’d just fish for a few more details to make my departure less of a gamble than my arrival.
“That sounds awful.” I threw in just an edge of horror and raised a forehoof to my chest. “How long have they been around?”
Cedar looked to his glass for wisdom again. “The zombies? Forever. Bandits? Kinda forever too, I guess.”
Oh, gee, thanks. Could you be more vague?
I fought to hold back a frown, but quickly realized there was little point. “My, these things have been haunting the roads forever? That’s a really long time.”
“Forest too. Oh, and the mountains.” Mocha finally cut in.
“Who ashked you?” Cedar scowled.
“She started talkin’ to the both of us, y’know.”
Cedar waved his hoof. “Anyway, the forest and mountains are pretty big. Someponies tried to get rid o’ them, but never seems to stick.”
I tried to recall what the map looked like, but it was a little fuzzy. My gut was telling me to just go back the way I’d come, although I was certain there must have been a more optimal route. If I was remembering right, anyway I swung it, I’d have to pass over or by some part of the forest. I made a mental note to find the thinnest section to fly over.
“Shay.” Cedar’s voice snapped me back to reality. “Now that we’re acquainted, lemme buy you a drink?”
“Oh, that does sound nice,” I put on my best fake smile as I rose from my seat. “But I really have to use the fillies’ room first. Is that okay?”
“Yesh, yesh, of course, take your time.” Cedar smiled back, his wings unfolding just a bit. “Hey, barkeep! One of dem fancy vodka drinks for my new friend here!”
I trotted round the corner, out the back and past the outhouse.