//------------------------------//
// Chapter 7 
// Story: Frost from Fire 
// by The Calm and the Quiet 
//------------------------------//

	General Arbiter and Captain Stratos, along with their contingency, walked into the prison cell at daybreak, where the captured pegasus mare was being held. She was curled against the wall, a tiny blot in the darkness. General Arbiter went up to her, demanding the door opened for his questioning to begin, and Captain Stratos stumbled over himself to obey.
That was about when they’d find that the pegasus was actually just a ball of green magic in the form of a mare.
Far outside the Barracks and getting farther, Ghost struggled to keep up with Vesper. Her wing was injured, true, but her legs were not. She ran swiftly as an earthpony, leaving him to strain to keep up.
Ghost had sent a mental ping to Valiant. Hopefully he would get the hint and grab Cypress and Tyto before it was too late to escape.
“I need to stop,” Ghost gasped. Without waiting for her answer, he braced his shoulder up against a tree. Sweat poured down his face, stinging his eyes.
Hooves approached him. “We can’t,” Vesper said, in her soft voice. Ghostwriter tipped up his head to look at her. She didn’t even seem winded. The sun was just beginning to peek up over the trees of the Everfree, touching everything with gold.
Ghost heaved in air. “My heart’s going to burst.”
Vesper’s brown eyes blinked slowly once. “Your heart will burst if a Striker impacts you. Your lungs will collapse and refill with blood. The vessels in your eyes will collapse from the hit, blinding you before the lance takes your heart. If your heart hasn’t, in fact, burst from running.”
Ghost, panting, glared at her. “You’re a glimmer of sunshine, aren’t you?”
Vesper didn’t respond to that.
The undergrowth shivered and thundered. Ghost prepped himself—for what, he didn’t know—by lighting up his horn. Vesper didn’t move. Her body didn’t even tense up.
Celestia bless, he thought as he saw the halo of Valiant’s blue magic flood the dim clearing. His brother came after it, eyes wide with panic, with Sir Cypress and Tyto just behind him.
“Oh, thank Celestia,” Valiant said, hooking a hoof around Ghost’s sore shoulders and pulling him close. Ghost’s protests were muffled against Valiant’s white coat. “You haven’t sent me a ping since we were colts! What’s happened? Why are you out here?”
His eyes slid away from Ghostwriter’s to Vesper behind him.
“No,” Valiant said flatly.
He walked forward towards Vesper, who watched him come with little of anything in her face. The only thing that moved about her was her head, leaning back to look up into Valiant’s face as he approached, blue lightning sparking from his horn.
For a wild second, Ghost thought Valiant would hurt her. A vision flashed through his head of Valiant in his prime, in his element, magic wreathing him like flames. Vesper was no more than a bundle of sticks and feathers. He’d tear through her like paper.
Then Valiant stopped. He gathered himself. “No,” he said again. Turning around, he looked at Ghost. Not angry. Not frightened. Scolding. Brows furrowed over his green eyes. Like he wasn’t understanding. “No. No, no, no.”
Tyto folded his arms and leaned against a tree. “Well,” he said softly, dark eyes speculative. He turned them on Ghost. Ghost stared back, unsure of what the dragon’s expression meant. 
Valiant whipped around. “No,” he said to Tyto this time. “No, you can’t possibly be this stupid. No. I won’t believe it. I can’t. Ghost, tell me I’m just not understanding what’s happening here. Tell me you didn’t just break out a prisoner from the Sky Barracks.”
Ghost hesitated. “Well—”
“Unbelievable.” Even Valiant’s anger was dampened. Hot-blooded Valiant, who always spoke his opinion whether it was good for him or not, was now flat. “What would Father say?”
“Nothing, assumedly, on account of he’s dead.”
Valiant’s frown increased. “Ghost.”
Sir Cypress stepped forward hesitantly. He’d put on his plates. That relieved Ghost. At least one of them had thought ahead, that they wouldn’t be returning to the Barracks. Valiant had no saddlebags. Tyto had nothing but a scowl. “Now what?”
Silence fell in the clearing. Ghost didn’t want to meet anypony’s eyes for some reason. Tyto seemed content to let the silence stretch, curling the tip of his barbed tail back and forth, clicking his claws on the scales of his forearms. Valiant’s teeth were gritted, his tail lashing. 
Vesper broke it. “I know a safe place.”
Valiant laughed dismissively. “You’re a murderer. Why would we listen to you? How do we know you won’t kill us? Or more of your moon-flanked ponies will?”
Vesper blinked her slow blink. “No more of us are here.”
That shut Valiant up. He’d obviously meant it sarcastically. It hadn’t occurred to him that there could be more like Vesper. It hadn’t occurred to Ghost either, but now it seemed logical. There had been at least two at the Sky Barracks last night alone.
Tyto’s clicking stopped. “Well, we can’t stay here. Stratos will have raised the alarm by now. And Umbertown is out, too.” He looked at Valiant. “This is our only option.”
“No it’s not!” Valiant said incredulously. “We can keep going. We can go back to the Castle. We can turn this murderer in.” He started pacing. “I’ll tell them she tried to escape. I’ll tell them that Ghost heard her, that his alarm spell was still triggered. We followed her out into the Everfree and got her back. She was halfway to Umbertown, so we just brought her to the Castle.” He looked up, eyes shining, and set his hooves on Ghost’s shoulders. “Everything will be all right,” he said earnestly. “Nopony has to know you let her out. I’ll fix this for you, little brother.”
And there was Valiant, Ghost thought. The great fixer. The only one with the answers. The one always looking out for his little brother, hovering, encroaching, strangling like vines. A mother hen and a father wolf, all wrapped up into one.
Ghost shoved Valiant’s hooves off, not missing the bright spark of hurt that flashed across Valiant’s face. “We’re not turning Vesper in.”
Valiant stared for a moment longer. “Vesper.”
Ghost’s face heated. He jerked his chin to where Vesper was still standing, still blank, like she were carved from the morning sunlight. It touched her mane and turned it like fire. The whole image stood in stark comparison to the half moon glimmering on her flank.
Valiant followed the motion slowly. His jaw hardened. When he looked back at Ghost, all that soft affection was gone, replaced by something like disgust. “You’d go this far for a story?”
“Ponies are dying, Valiant. Fillies are being stolen.” Ghost paused for a moment, but his anger made him reckless. He spat, “Like Sephie.”
“Don’t bring Sephie into this.” Valiant’s weakness, as always. And didn’t he know it. His nostrils flared. “You don’t care about those ponies being killed. You care about your story. How you can make another Maneco.”
And there it was, Ghost’s weakness. And didn’t he know it. Ghost’s ear flattened.
“Okay,” Tyto said in half a singsong. He pushed his way between them, one claw on each chest. Ghost rocked back from the strength in that one skinny arm. “That’s enough brotherly rivalry for one night.” He looked up at the sky. “Or…morning, I suppose.”
“Alarm,” Sir Cypress said, eyes wide.
Ghost froze. In the distance, echoing through the trees, came the long drawn-out bellow of a brass horn. Birds took flight overhead, trying to escape. 
Everypony watched them go. Tyto slowly dropped his arms.
“We need to move,” he said. “The Strikers will—”
Wingbeats. 
Sir Cypress grabbed Ghost with a massive hoof and yanked him into the bushes. Tyto scurried behind them. Valiant’s horn went out, plunging them into darkness. 
Overhead, the Strikers flew, a multicolored wave. Some broke off and came lower, scouting. Ghost saw Captain Stratos, his rough hair ruffled in the wind. In their wake, the clouds curled up, swirling with dawn mist.
Ghost, huddled beneath Sir Cypress’s belly, felt like a claw was clutching his insides. He shrank closer to the ground. In his books, his protagonists were fearless and brave. Corvus from The Mystery of Maneco would never have hidden in the bushes and shivered like this. He would have gone out and done something.
But Ghost was not Corvus. And so he shivered in the bushes and felt like his dinner would come back up.
“Unicorns will follow.” Vesper’s whisper was right in Ghost’s ear. To his shame, he jumped in surprise. She looked at him, her eyes shining eerily. The stones in her collar winked as she breathed steadily. No fear.
Tyto watched Ghost and Vesper. So did Cypress. On the other side, Valiant stared up at the sky, a muscle standing out in his jaw.
Ghost made the decision. He turned to Vesper. “Take us to your safe place.”



Vesper led them to a small cave beneath the roots of a massive, ivy-choked tree. If she hadn’t pointed to it, he doubted he would have even noticed it. He’d looked right past it, further into the forest.
They’d had to run from darkness to darkness, keeping out of the Strikers’ sights. By now, the sun was coming up, and for one of the first times in his life, Ghost was not comforted by the new day. It made them more visible, more vulnerable. He felt like a rat in the middle of an open field. Perfect prey for a hawk.
Vesper stopped by the entrance. “Here.”
“What’s in there?” Ghost looked down into the hole. From inside, he felt a cool wind brushing his cheeks. It pushed back his mane. 
Vesper didn’t answer.
Tyto strained past Ghost and sniffed. “Crystal,” he said. “Diamonds. Rubies.”
“A vault?” Ghost asked.
“A crypt,” Valiant spat. He’d been silent as the rest of them on the trip over here, but not once had his guarded derision dropped. Especially when he looked at Vesper.
“Breathable air,” Tyto said. “And…and grass. How can there be grass?”
Sir Cypress looked neutral as always, but there was an undercurrent of nervousness to him. Ghost felt it when his flank brushed against one of the knight’s forehooves. “Ghostwriter?”
Permission? Ghost didn’t know what he was asking. But there was no other option.
Gingerly, Ghost stepped down into the tunnel. Hidden in the earthy floor were a series of steps carved from stone so old it was green. Sir Cypress followed after, then Tyto, and finally Valiant. 
“Seal the door,” he said. Maybe to Vesper, though he didn’t look at her.
She answered anyway. “No need.” When Valiant protested, she added, “Nopony can see this tunnel unless they know it’s there.”
Ghost felt a chill run down his spine. That explained why he didn’t spot it earlier, why his mind slipped right past it. It was magic. Not unicorn. It forced itself to not be noticed, to be passed over. 
Not unicorn, he thought again. Alicorn.
Since Vesper was in the back, Ghost had to lead the way. He stepped carefully down the tunnel towards the darkness ahead. It was hard to see. His glasses were spotted with dirt from the journey over here. With a hoof, he bumped them back up his snout.
The walls were closing in on him. He’d never been so far underground. His mind tried to tell him this was no different from a hallway in a building. Both were constructed of stone. Both were meant to get a pony from one place to another. There was no difference.
But the labored breathing from behind him told him he wasn’t the only one noticing the difference.
Ghost glanced over his shoulder. Sir Cypress was rattling in his plates, his blue eyes wide. His mouth was open as he struggled to breathe.
“Sir Cypress,” he said.
“I’m…fine,” Sir Cypress managed. 
Ghost didn’t push him. But he quickened the pace.
A light started to glow at the end of the tunnel. It felt like another dawn after so long of walking in the dark. It glowed like a firefly in smoke, wavering somehow, dancing in front of Ghost’s eyes. Tantalizing.
Abruptly, Ghost stopped walking. From behind him, Vesper said unnecessarily, “Here.”
Here was a wonder. The tunnel spread out into a perfect spherical chamber, enormous enough to house a thousand ponies. The ground curved with it, like a bubble had been placed beneath the bedrock and expanded. Green moss and tall grass carpeted it, budding with tiny white flowers here and there. More of the lights, not fireflies but motes of magic, floated along, lighting the space. On the curved walls came tunnels, hundreds of them, all pouring down into the center clearing. 
And the ceiling… The ceiling was a host of stars, a perfect presentation of the night sky. Ghost’s eyes widened as he took in the constellations: the Hunter and the Wolf, the Blade, the Ice Queen, the River. All exactly as they were in the real sky on the clearest night. 
The moon shone. Full. The Mare in the Moon looked down upon them with her wide, watching eye. 
Sir Cypress let out the amazed breath Ghost was feeling.
Vesper pushed past them all into the clearing. The grass swallowed her up to her withers. 
“Hey!” Valiant shouted. “Come back here!”
The waving grass was his answer.
Valiant huffed, pawing the ground. “The nerve of her. She thinks she’s in charge. She—Hey!”
Ghost already walked away, following Vesper. Behind him, he heard Tyto say, “Oh, come on. Let’s just get this over with.”
This place was filling Ghost’s mind. Without really thinking, his quill and paper floated up out of his saddlebags and started writing, cataloging everything he saw. The way the grass stroked his flanks, the way the light shone down on the path ahead, the way this place could be used to hold armies, the way the whole thing was sustained within itself, a perfect system. Food stores and shelters were scattered around, forming camps. Judged on what he could see, he estimated the sphere to be perhaps five miles in diameter, constructed by an enormous amount of energy that nopony could ever do on their own or even together.
A goddess formed this. And judging by the stars sparkling above them, it wasn’t a sun goddess.
They found Vesper settled in one of the camps by a firepit that hadn’t been lit in a long time. Her eyes were closed as the others approached. “Welcome,” she said in her controlled voice. Her eyes opened. “Outsiders.”
Sir Cypress turned to Ghost, again with that question in his eyes.
Answers. That was what Ghost wanted. And to get them, he had to play this game.
Ghost bent his knees and settled beside the cinders of the firepit. With a sigh, Sir Cypress did the same, rolling his shoulders to help his armor fit more comfortably. Tyto spat an ember into the pit to get it roaring, chasing away this synthetic night wind, then collapsed in a pile of skinny limbs next to it.
Valiant remained standing.
Vesper didn’t wait for Ghost’s questioning to start. “I am a scion of the alicorn you call Nightmare Moon. I have been since before I can remember. My life is dedicated to serving her will.”
Tyto took in a shaking breath.
Vesper blinked. “That is the reason my cutie mark contains a moon. Because my special talent blossomed under my mother’s tutelage.”
“Your mother.”
“My mother Luna.”
Ghost’s quill was the only sound in the clearing.
“Your talent, you said.” Ghost’s voice was forcibly steady.
Vesper nodded. “Flying.” She gestured to her flank, where her cutie mark showed the bending tree. “My mother is the best flyer to have ever existed. She is the living night and all its secrets.”
It was such a strange thing to say, but somehow, Vesper said it without it sounding that way. 
Ghost pulled out another piece of paper. “Tell me about her tutelage.”
“It began before I could fly. My sisters and I were taken to a great mountaintop. White with snow. Our mother showed us how to manipulate the wind, how it could be bent to our will. How the weather was merely a tool to be used.”
“You learned pegasus magic before you could even fly?” Tyto asked, breaking into the process. “That’s not how pegasi learn.”
“Sun-drowned pegasi,” Vesper said, with a hint of derision. “It is easy to fly in the light. It takes skill to fly in the dark. We fly in ways you can’t even dream of, dragon.”
Tyto’s brows rose.
“I grew. I found my talent. It is no different than any other pony’s upbringing.”
“Many were not brought up by an evil goddess,” Ghost pointed out.
“What is evil?” she asked. “How do you define it?”
Ghost didn’t like rhetoricals but he humored her. “Committing atrocities.”
“What are atrocities?”
“Crimes.”
“Define.”
Ghost would not allow his patience to fray. “Theft. Deception. Murder.”
“We do not steal.”
“You steal fillies. Maize Dust and Myrtle. And maybe Sir Cypress’s daughter Eglantine Stalwart.”
“Steal,” she said, like she was testing the word. “They were not stolen.”
“So you admit that you took them?”
“I didn’t.”
Ghost wanted to curse but instead he took a calm breath. “The Scions.”
“Maybe.”
Sir Cypress had gone rigid. “My daughter. Maybe you’ve seen her. A young filly, no cutie mark, yellow coat—”
“Maybe,” she said again. “I do not train the young ones.”
Sir Cypress’s throat worked. “So maybe somepony else—”
“Maybe. The one in charge is Blue Rose. She might have seen her.”
“You keep in contact with Blue Rose?” Ghost asked. Sir Cypress didn’t seem capable. He looked strangely relieved.
“We find each other sometimes.” Vesper shifted. “I maybe could find her.”
That was enough answer there. Ghostwriter scratched another answer, another series of notes.
Vesper watched the quill move. “You listed murder among your atrocities.”
“Yes. It is an abomination to kill.”
Vesper blinked. Her eyes slid from Ghost to Sir Cypress. “Then why does he have a sword?”
Ghost turned just in time to see Sir Cypress’s surprise. “Protection.”
“Against?”
“Things that hurt others.” Sir Cypress drew the sword and set it down by his forehooves. For the first time, Ghost got a good look at it. It was a length of pure steel, longer than Ghost, and etched with fine lines that marked out sunbursts. 
Tyto looked at it with pride. He tapped the blade with a claw. “Glare,” he said, and Ghost realized that was the name of Cypress’s blade. “I remember forging this for you, Cy. Maybe twenty years ago. Right after you were knighted.”
The mental image of Sir Cypress being a young soldier was comical. Hadn’t he always been enormous? Had there been a time where he was clumsy-hoofed and unpracticed?
Vesper did not move to look at the sword like the others did. “You’ve killed?”
“Yes.”
“Ponies?”
“Enemies,” Cypress said. “Timberwolves. Hydras. Ursa Majors. Monsters.”
“Then by Ghostwriter’s atrocities, you are evil.”
“Killing a pony is murder,” Valiant said sharply. “Killing a monster is not.”
“In the Sister’s War, ponies killed each other. Was that evil? Is it evil to take another pony’s life in war? Is it evil to save yourself by killing another?”
“I hardly would say killing a sixteen-year-old filly is saving yourself,” Valiant said coldly. 
Ghost interrupted as something occurred to him. “Nightma—Your mother, she was with you on the mountaintop?”
Vesper looked away from Valiant, as if she hadn’t even spoken to him. As if he didn’t even exist. “Yes.”
“How?”
“How?” she echoed.
“Yes. How?” Ghost motioned with a hoof up to the fake ceiling where the moon shone, unnaturally full. “Nightmare Moon was banished fifty years ago. She’s trapped in the moon. That’s why it looks like that.”
Vesper didn’t look where he was pointing. “I know the story.”
“Then how was she with you if she was in the moon all that time?”
Vesper didn’t say anything.
Frustration prickled Ghost’s coat. “You said you’d tell me anything I wanted if I got you out,” he said rashly.
“I did say that. But I didn’t say when.”
“Liar,” he accused.
“I don’t lie.” Another blink. “We can’t lie.”
“Who? The Scions?” For some reason, he imagined that word as a proper name, like the Solar Guard. His quill made the correction.
“Part of our training. We bleed out weakness. Lying is a weakness.” 
“She’s full of it,” Valiant hissed, coming over from his watchful position to Ghost’s side. He leaned down. “We need to go to Canterlot and turn her in. She killed Slipstream!”
“I didn’t,” Vesper said. 
Valiant blinked. “And we should believe her,” he said sarcastically.
“Valiant,” Tyto said calmly. He flipped his tail. “Shut up and sit down.”
“Then who killed her?” Ghost asked.
“I don’t know,” Vesper said. “But it wasn’t me.”
“Another Scion?”
“Maybe.”
“They had green feathers.”
“Many of us have green feathers.”
Ghost’s teeth gritted. From within his saddlebags, he produced the green feather, tipped with dark blue.
“You stole that?” Valiant groaned. “Let’s add theft to the list of reasons we’re going to be killed for treason.”
Ghost ignored him. He was watching Vesper’s face.
Her eyes didn’t widen. Her expression didn’t change. But something about her shifted. “Chain Lightning.”
Chain Lightning. Now they had a name. 
“Do you know him?” 
“Her. We’re all mares. Chain Lightning is one of our pegasi. She’s in our mother’s inner circle.” Vesper hadn’t taken her eyes off the feather. “She killed your pegasus. But only because she was going to tell.”
“Tell?”
“About our secret. Our—” Vesper’s mouth closed abruptly. 
Ghost waited three seconds. He counted. “Well?”
“I can’t say.”
“You—”
“I can’t say.” Vesper’s eyes widened. For the first time, she looked something. But whether that was frightened or angry or something else, he couldn’t tell. “Understand, Ghostwriter. I can’t say.”
Helpless, he looked to Tyto.
Tyto shrugged. “Don’t ask me. I don’t know what’s going on. Other than that the Princess’s spell obviously didn’t do what she’d planned. That Princess Celestia made a mistake.”
A mistake. Ghost’s throat felt tight. But gods don’t make mistakes.
It was Valiant who answered. Gruffly, unwillingly, he said, “Her mind’s blocked with magic.”
Ghost snorted. “Impossible.”
Valiant just looked at him. He didn’t even seem angry anymore. Just tired. “You’re sitting in a massive underground cave with artificial moonlight on your back while talking to a mare who was trained by Nightmare Moon. Expand your horizons as to what’s impossible, little brother.”
Ghost twisted his mouth. “Then explain it to me. Mind magic is impossible.”
“For unicorns. For us.” Valiant’s eyes flickered. “But maybe not for alicorns.”
“We need to talk to Princess Celestia,” Tyto said. “We need her opinion. We need to tell her what her sister is doing.”
“And how do you propose we do that? Send her a letter?” Valiant tossed his head, mimicking Tyto’s raspy voice with cruel accuracy. “‘Dear Princess Celestia, by now you’ve been told of my betrayal at the Sky Barracks, but I have reason for breaking out an admitted murderer and fleeing into the Everfree. Your sister has escaped imprisonment and is kidnapping and training fillies to be assassins! In the underground vault that nopony can find! And you know who led us there? One of these assassins! By the way, do you have any texts on mind magic? Regards, Your Faithful Student Tyto.’” Valiant laughed hard. “I’m sure that’ll go over well.”
Raising a claw, Tyto started, “Celestia will—” 
“Understand? Mm-hmm.” Valiant nodded mockingly. “I guess the understanding will come after the shock fades. Or after the Guard kills us. Either one.”
Slowly, Tyto dropped his claw back to his lap.
Sir Cypress watched all of this like a badminton match. “We can unblock her mind.”
“How?” Valiant demanded. “Do you have any secrets to share, Cy? Maybe how you’re actually a unicorn and that haircut covers your horn?”
“Knock it off, Valiant.” Ghost crossed his forehooves over his chest. “This isn’t constructive.”
“What do you propose, then, Ghost? Please, do share.” With a dramatic wave, he gestured to Vesper. “What do you think about the circumstances this mare had shared with us? How do you plan to understand how to unblock her mind?”
“Like you said. With a book.”
“From?” Valiant’s face turned from dismissive sarcasm to faux-expectation. “Oh, I know. Let’s go to Canterlot! Let’s go back, little brother, to the city of our youth. I’ll make a distraction and you can break into the Tower. Or the Library. Or, Celestia bless, why not both? Let’s just go for the whole deal while we’re at it. We’ll really rack up those charges before they strike off our heads.”
“Your sarcasm is grating.”
Valiant’s scowl returned with a vengeance. 
“But you’re right.” Ghost stood and shook off the grass that had settled on his back. 
“Thank Celestia.” Valiant sighed. “Then let’s turn her in and—”
“We do need to go to the Library.” Amid Valiant’s sounds of dismay, Ghost withdrew his letter dish. It was bursting with notes from Bluebell in ever-increasing alarm.
It’s been a few hours since your last demand, sir. Wanted to make sure everything is all right.
You didn’t tell me, sir, that you were planning to throw your life away. And more importantly, your career. Please tell me breaking prisoners out of the Sky Barracks is some kind of joke.
Ghostwriter, I am growing concerned that you’ve lost your mind. There are Solar Guard here asking questions.
“Celestia’s hooves,” Ghost muttered, tossing the messages into the fire. The flames ate them greedily.
Sir Cypress leaned over Ghost’s shoulder to look. “Your secretary?”
Ghost wasn’t listening. His quill was scratching out an answer, short and to the point.
Tell them nothing. 
Bluebell must have been waiting. Her response came within seconds.
Ghostwriter, what is going on? Everybody is talking about this. Quickquill is furious.
Ghost didn’t want to hear about Quickquill. Are they there now?
They haven’t left in hours. They’re in your rooms.
That filled Ghost’s mouth with sour distaste. All those records were going to be out of order now. Everything would need to be redone. Luckily he’d brought everything of importance with him.
Bluebell’s next message came. I’m writing these in my closet, Ghostwriter. That’s what you’ve brought me to. Hiding in my own closet writing to a criminal. Sure enough, there was a burn on the paper from where her horn must have sparked. A light in the dark.
Ghost chewed his lip, then set his quill to writing. I need a favor.
Oh no. Not until you tell me what’s going on.
I need to get into the Library.
That’s not a good idea if you want to leave with your head still attached, sir. 
Make it happen, Bluebell. Give me a plan.
By now, Valiant and Tyto had drifted over. Vesper remained where she was, her eyes closed, looking tired. There were lines beneath her eyes.
Ghost stared at her warily. She had given him answers, yes, but more questions than she could answer. This was a headache. And now, apparently, a major crime.
I should have just stayed in bed, Ghost thought. I should have never left the Tower. 
The tray flashed and a letter appeared. Ghostwriter, by order of Princess Celestia, you are hereby under arrest. Turn yourself in and we will be gentle. Protest and we will not. 
Ghost drew back, frowning.
“Well, that’s a shift in tone,” Tyto noted dryly.
“She’s been caught. They had her send this to me. They must know we were talking. Or could talk.” Ghost held the letter up to the light of the fire, turning it sideways. “She gave them that. Had to. Can’t fault her for that.”
Tyto watched with those black eyes. “What are you doing?” 
Ghost didn’t answer. He had found just the perfect angle, one that made the ink shine in the waving flames. 
There, beneath the final words, was a message, hidden in his invisible ink spell. Bluebell’s tidy script formed the words: Corvus gem crypt.
Valiant lifted the letter with his blue magic, tilting his head to mimic Ghost’s. “I don’t understand. What does it mean?”
Ghost smiled. “Bluebell’s just given us a way into the Tower.”