• Published 18th Mar 2012
  • 3,135 Views, 86 Comments

The Feather of Fire - nerothewizard



Daring Do's latest discovery leads her into danger, but also a new, mysterious partner...

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Chapter 3

On the other side of the world, as new possibilities were opening up for the archeologists, an old routine was in full swing for one city-dwelling mare. Celestia's sun had fallen below the Manehattan skyline a few hours ago, and with the onset of twilight, Mare-Do-Well found herself sitting in one of the city's seedier watering holes, a half-empty glass of cider – non-alcoholic, but not if anypony asked – on the greasy counter before her and a set of saddlebags on the floor beside her stool. From a rickety wooden player in the corner, a record with more scratches than grooves sputtered out a song that everypony would forget in a few minutes anyway, if they could even hear it over the ambiance of clinking glasses, loud conversation, and raucous laughter echoing through the confined spaces of the bar. The attention of the patron ponies was not drawn to the inconspicuous and non-costumed mare who occupied an unstable bar stool; this, much to her delight, gave her ample opportunity to pony-watch, one of her favorite pastimes in this city of thousands. It was more than a mere habit, though. A pony who kept her eyes and ears open could find trouble brewing just about anywhere in the chaotic metropolis of Manehattan, especially in a place like this.

As impolite a practice as eavesdropping was, Mare-Do-Well had quickly learned that even a few lines gleaned from a conversation could prevent crimes or catastrophes. Tonight, however, it seemed nopony had anything interesting to talk about. The table of stallions a few feet away was loudly shouting about the hoofball game the night before, a multitude of empty glass mugs rattling each time one of them pounded the table to emphasize his point. Next to them, Mare-Do-Well saw a young couple talking heatedly; upon further focus, she heard something about moving in together. The older stallion several stools down from her at the counter wasn't talking at all, merely pondering his still-full glass with a deep, frowning gaze, as though the secrets of Equestria were contained within the transparent, amber liquid. Elsewhere, males tried their luck with much younger females, with varying degrees of success, often dependent upon the amount of liquid courage consumed by both parties, and a group of middle-aged mares at a booth along the wall lodged various complaints against their husbands, their fillies, and their unfulfilled potential, all fueled by the companionship of hard liquor.

Mare-Do-Well turned back to her own mug with a slight smile. Perhaps tonight would be a calm night, at least by Manehattan's standards. She raised her glass, closed her eyes, and downed the remaining cider in one go, its coolness serving as a calming agent and a refreshing lift for her dry throat. As she set down the empty glass, a male voice suddenly came from her left. “Man, you can really put it away.”

Her smile was gone as quickly as it had come. Slowly, she turned to face the source of her interruption. An off-white pegasus stallion who couldn't have been more than twenty was leaning awkwardly on the counter, one hoof propped against his head, and a grin that was trying to be alluring – but failing miserably – was plastered on his face. He continued, “Maybe I can buy you another?”

A sigh came from Mare-Do-Well. “Thanks, but that was my last one.” She hopped off the stool, put on her saddlebags, and began to trot toward the exit.

He stepped almost directly in her way. “At least let me introduce myself.” This one was persistent. “I'm Lightning Rod, the weather pony. Maybe you've heard of me.” Silence. “Anyway...uh...that's who I am. And you are?”

“Not interested.”

Mare-Do-Well pushed past the eager but foolhardy young stallion and made her way to the door. As she pushed it open, the male pegasus called out, “Can't you at least tell me your name?”

The stare she gave him made his heart jump to his throat. A voice at least an octave lower than her usual tone emanated from the mare. “No.” Without another word, she left the bar where the denied stallion stood dumbstruck and staring at the door as it thudded closed.

The chill of the night air was a welcome relief to Mare-Do-Well after her run-in with the young buck who had obviously had one too many. As often as ponies hit on her when she was out at a bar, she had become quite adept at turning them away without resorting to bucking them square in the face. Well, except for that one time, but that guy had drunk an unbelievable amount of hard cider that had made him impossible to talk to or reason with. The bartender, shocked to see a mare knock a large, muscular stallion completely unconscious, had been surprisingly understanding about the whole affair, only asking for enough bits to cover the cost of the broken table...and chairs...and three glass mugs. Mare-Do-Well chuckled at the memory as she trotted down the sidewalk.

Very few ponies were out this evening. The few that Mare-Do-Well encountered didn't give her a second look as they either walked briskly past her or stood on the pavement engaged in conversations or waiting for the arrival of something or somepony underneath dim street lamps. Even in this neighborhood that was known to have a higher crime rate, it seemed that some nights didn't harbor as much potential for unsavory activities, and while Mare-Do-Well certainly welcomed the idea of a peaceful and uneventful stroll, her eyes were sharp and her ears were perked up. Nopony would recognize the mysterious hero of Manehattan without her costume, but she never ceased her vigilant watch over the city she called home.

Despite her calm, unflinching demeanor, a thought lurked at the back of Mare-Do-Well's mind. In her head, the encounter with the stallion in the bar replayed itself, and one line stuck out: “Can't you at least tell me your name?” Her response had been curt, meant to discourage further pursuit by the young male, but there had been a burning in her chest as she had made her quick exit from the alcoholic establishment. Why? What was so strange about that question? It seemed like a normal thing for a pony to ask a prospective partner, or even a key detail of any interpony communication.

Mare-Do-Well flinched. A chord had been struck; she knew exactly why his question had affected her so much. A sharp pain flared up behind her eyes as she walked, a little faster now, in a direction that didn't matter, toward a destination even she didn't know. How long has it been? The thought arose unbidden. She shook her head quickly, attempting to dislodge it. How long since... Her eyes shut tight for a moment, and she froze on the sidewalk. ...since I've talked to anypony? The pain in her head intensified, building up heat that threatened to spill out from her eyes. Since I've told anypony else my name?

“What are you talking about? You're the Mysterious Mare-Do-Well. That's all everypony needs to know,” she muttered under her breath, even though nopony else was within earshot.

Is it? That's not your real name.

“It's the only name that matters.” There was an edge of ferocity in her voice. “It's who I am now.”

Do you even remember?

Images flickered across her subconscious. A smiling mare's face; a flash of silvery metal; blood on a tiny, quivering hoof; screaming until she could no longer breathe. She heard a voice, soft and sweet like a breeze through an open window on a stifling summer's day. It was calling her...it was telling her something...but the name it was using wasn't hers. She blinked back the initial onrush of tears and hoisted her head high. “I don't need to remember,” she said in a voice that shook just enough to betray her nerves. “That's not me. That's not who I need to be.” All trepidation was gone as she continued, “Mare-Do-Well is what matters now. It's what this city needs.” She began to trot again, then added in a whisper, “It's what I need.” The street echoed with her hoofsteps as she plodded into the night.

***

Several hours of waiting and watching on the street level produced no excitement, and the night soon found Mare-Do-Well back at her apartment, a modest affair in a building that had seen better days, but was nowhere near as run-down as some of the high-rises that miraculously still stood closer to the Southern District. She was lying prone on a lumpy mattress on a bed frame that had retained its stability remarkably well for how old it was. She was not asleep, however, as evidenced by both the subtle glow of the gas lamp on her nightstand and the squeaks and squawks of the ancient radio receiver attempting to pick up some type of signal. The pony, still without her trademark costume, fidgeted with the dials on the front of the receiver, her efforts met with only further frustration. At last, a sound that mercifully wasn't static came forth from the speakers. Mare-Do-Well grinned and perked up, eager to listen.

A mare's voice droned out, “Units in the Horseshoe Lane area, we have a report of a missing cat. Anypony wanna take that one?” Mare-Do-Well sighed loudly. The radio remained silent for several minutes; it seemed that even the Manehattan police ponies were having a quiet night. She was about to click off the device and succumb to sleep when the radio crackled to life again. “Attention units in the Unicorn Harbor area, reports of a disturbance at Seapony Dockworks. Any available units, please respond.”

Mare-Do-Well would normally have left this task to the authorities; however, the slow night had made her restless and desperate for action. Besides, the docks were not a far distance from her building. Quickly, she retrieved her costume from her closet and slipped silently out the window, clambering up the fire escape quietly so as not to wake the other tenants. Access to the roof was swiftly gained.

As an earth pony, Mare-Do-Well had been born with naturally strong legs. This attribute proved most helpful when she needed to navigate through Manehattan quickly, as most of the buildings were placed close enough together that a mighty leap would often carry her from one to the next. On a cool night like this one, she especially enjoyed the sensation of soaring between the tall structures, not daring to look down as the chilly air flowed beneath her athletic body. For a pony who had been confined to the ground for her entire life, the feeling of flying, even temporarily, exhilarated her as she leaped from rooftop to rooftop on her way to the docks.

Soon, the residential and commercial buildings began to give way to the lower roofs of the dock warehouses. Making use of a drainpipe, Mare-Do-Well slid down the side of the last apartment complex and dropped into the dark alley. Under the dim lighting of the street lamps, she darted from cover to cover, peeking out to make sure nopony was around before ducking into the shadow of another warehouse. There were no signs of life until she arrived at the back door of the Seapony Dockworks. She peered in through the window, but it was too dark to make anything out, and the bulb above the door looked to be burnt out. Mare-Do-Well did a double take. The bulb wasn't burnt out at all; it appeared to have been shattered. Her heart quickened. She shook her head. Perhaps it had been broken for a while; after all, accidents happened. One clumsy janitor with an errant broom handle could have led to-

Something crunched underneath Mare-Do-Well's hoof. Tiny shards of glass lay scattered on the ground near the exit door, and she quickly withdrew her hoof. “So,” she whispered, “the bulb was broken recently. The perps may still be nearby.” Her thoughts were interrupted by bright, flashing lights pulsating in the alleys on either side of the Dockworks. The Manehattan police had arrived, and rather quickly. She crept into the nearest alley and along the side of the warehouse, then poked her head around the corner to survey the scene.

The police cart was parked on the opposite side of the street from the entrance to the Seapony Dockworks, its lights illuminating the dark city sky, while a uniformed stallion with a thick brown mustache strode slowly toward the front door. He gave several swift knocks and stood back. Mare-Do-Well waited, but then almost gasped when the door opened and two ponies stepped out. They were dressed in similar light green vests with name tags prominently displayed on them. The smaller of the two, a mare with a gruff voice, was the first to speak. “There a problem, offisah?”

The officer tipped his hat and said, “Received a call earlier about a disturbance. Everything all right this evening?”

The same pony replied with a chuckle, “Oh yeah, that. Well, y'see, me an' my co-workah was just lookin' aftah tha place, like we's supposed to. Heard a noise, went ta look, and I sees a couple o' guys tryin' ta bust in tha back way. I t'ink we scared 'em off, but not before my not-so-bright partnah here goes 'n' pushes tha alahm button. Got a lil' spooked, didn't ya?” The mare elbowed her companion in the ribs. All he did in response was grunt and offer a quick nod. “That's all, offisah. No need ta worry no more.”

After a poorly-disguised yawn, the police pony said, “Did they actually get inside, or take anything of value?”

“No way, no how. I saw 'em out back and gave 'em a good yell, an' those mugs ran off like scared lil' rabbits.”

The officer said after another, longer yawn, “So what you're telling me is that there was an attempted break-in that didn't result in anything getting broken, stolen, or really, anything interesting at all?” Both of the other ponies nodded. The police pony muttered something unintelligible, then said, “Then I suppose there's no reason for me to stick around. You two stay safe, and call us if anything else happens tonight.” He abruptly turned and trotted back to the police cart, where he switched off the lights, hitched himself up, and galloped off into the night.

Mare-Do-Well frowned. Law enforcement at its finest. She watched as the two ponies glanced at each other before heading back inside the front door. Their explanation should have been satisfactory; everything they'd said seemed to fit, to make sense. An attempted burglary thwarted before it had begun, that's all. One pressing question, however, kept Mare-Do-Well from turning and disappearing into the night: “What about the broken bulb?” The door closed behind the security ponies, and Mare-Do-Well's heart began to increase its pace for the second time that night. Something wasn't right. She could feel it. As quickly and quietly as possible, she went back around the side of the building and returned to the back door. She placed her ear against it and heard nothing from the inside. Her hoof grasped the handle and turned it slowly, and she was relieved to find that it wasn't locked. In a few seconds, she was inside, the door shut gingerly behind her. Thanks to the thin material covering her eyes, they didn't take long to adjust to the darkness of the building's interior, and she looked around to get her bearings.

Seapony Dockworks was not a very large warehouse, but that certainly didn't mean that their business was struggling. There were pallets stuffed into nearly every spare square inch of floor space, as well as stacked on top of one another. Atop the pallets lay crates and boxes of various shapes and sizes, each carefully marked to indicate either its destination or point of origin. Mare-Do-Well grinned under her mask as she realized how simple it would be to hide in this vast expanse of shipped merchandise. The large bay door used for loading and unloading was built into the wall on her right, while ahead of her – past the sea of pallets – was a small front office, out of which the two security ponies had likely emerged. She began to pick her way through the stacks towards the office.

Suddenly, a voice broke the silence. Mare-Do-Well froze, then quickly stepped around a large wooden crate so that it was between her and the front of the building. She couldn't hear what was being said, but she recognized the sound of the smaller mare who had done all the talking during the interaction with the police pony. A beam of light tore through the darkness and zigzagged across the ceiling for a moment before lowering down and becoming a dull glow behind the boxes nearest the office. Mare-Do-Well heard hoofsteps and muffled conversation becoming fainter, and she dared to peek around the crate. The glow of what she assumed was a flashlight was by the bay door now. She moved deftly around and through the pallets, trying to get closer to hear what the two ponies were saying. Finally, she paused to listen.

“Son of a manticore! This one isn't tha right one eithah!” cried the mare.

Another voice said, “Boss said is here. We find.” It was the first time she had heard the taller stallion speak; she thought the accent sounded Germane.

“Outta these hundreds o' boxes, we got ta find one? Ya think we're just gonna turn around and it'll be in front o' us, do ya? This could take all night!”

“Less time talk, more time look.” The mare grumbled something incoherent, but didn't raise any further objections. Mare-Do-Well heard the two of them begin to inspect each of the packages, while she took a moment to comprehend what they said. Boss? Right one? If she hadn't been sure before, now Mare-Do-Well was certain that these two were anything but security guards. But what were they after? Her eyes fell on the office, several yards forward and to her right. She'd heard the other mare say something about an alarm button; if she could find it, she could get the police back to the scene to apprehend these two. Watching each hoof closely so as to avoid a misstep, Mare-Do-Well made her way to the office and ducked inside.

The small room contained several desks with magic-powered consoles capable of keeping track of the company's inventory, as well as a window that allowed the workers inside to keep tabs on the main body of the warehouse. It also had an oblong table flanked by chairs that looked very uncomfortable, a ceiling fan with one blade missing, and a water fountain in the corner. None of these things were what Mare-Do-Well noticed first. Her gaze was instantly drawn to the two prone ponies lying on the floor next to the table. Both were unicorns, though one was an elderly male, while the other was a younger mare, and each one wore a light green vest, though it appeared that their name tags had been torn off. Mare-Do-Well quickly leaned down and put her head to the chest of the stallion. Thankfully, a soft rhythm indicated the presence of a heartbeat, and a quick check of the mare revealed that she, too, was alive but unconscious. Next, the costumed mare looked around the office for any sign of the alarm button. A thorough search showed no sign of one. She scratched her head with one hoof. “Then how did they call...wait,” she whispered. “It must be somewhere else in here.” With one more glance at the two limp ponies, she left the office and returned to the warehouse floor.

From the sound of things, the other two guests hadn't made any progress in locating the item they were after. Mare-Do-Well circled around the outside of the stacked pallets, trying to stay as far away from the voices and the flashlight beam as possible. She scanned the walls for any sign of the button. A shout suddenly rose from the direction of the other two ponies, followed soon after by the crack of splintering wood. With a start, Mare-Do-Well realized that the fraudulent guards had likely found what they sought, and it was only a matter of minutes before they took the missing item and vanished. Frantically, she turned the corner to face the wall with the bay door, looking for any sort of indicator that would reveal the location of the elusive alarm. No such thing was on the left side of the door, so she ran to the right side, her hoofsteps drowned out by the increasing volume of the crate on the other side of the warehouse being torn apart. Finally, her eye caught sight of a small panel on the wall, adorned with several buttons. A large round one stuck out at the top center of the panel, and she mashed her hoof against it.

The bay door creaked and moaned as it began to rise.

Mare-Do-Well's heart stopped for just a moment, then began to beat again at a pace that would make even the most durable marathon runners jealous. From across the warehouse, all sounds of breaking wood ceased, only to be replaced by raised voices and the clatter of hooves moving in her direction. She glanced at the panel again and saw a smaller button beneath the one she had just pressed, the word “ALARM” printed next to it. If danger had not been impending, she would have facehoofed; as it was, she quickly pressed it twice – for good measure – before turning swiftly and dashing along the wall towards the rear of the warehouse, her purple cape flowing behind her. She rounded the corner to the final stretch, only to come face to face with the large stallion.

Both ponies were taken aback at the sight of each other, but it was Mare-Do-Well who recovered first. With a swift plant of her hoof, she sprang in the direction of the hefty male, intent on knocking him off-balance so she could get past him. That plan didn't work out as she'd hoped, though, when her head made contact with what felt like a wall of solid rock, and she bounced off the stallion and slid backwards on the floor, dazed. Through fuzzy vision, she could see him grin. Behind him, the smaller mare appeared, who took one look at Mare-Do-Well and said, “What in tha hay is that?”

Without removing his gaze from the costumed pony, the stallion replied, “Silly pony. Thinks she is hero. Go get package, take to boss. I handle silly pony.”

Flat on her back, Mare-Do-Well watched the mare turn and head back in the direction of their bounty. The big male stepped forward until he stood beside her. Without a word, he raised a hoof above her head. That was exactly what she'd been waiting for. As he brought the hoof down toward her face, she rolled away from him at the last possible moment, then quickly spun around to sweep that same hoof out from under the shocked stallion. He fell forward and smacked his jaw on the floor of the warehouse as Mare-Do-Well sprang to her hooves and ran toward the crate that had held the interest of her attackers. She arrived just in time to see the other mare hoist what looked like a small strongbox onto her back. Their eyes met for just a moment before Mare-Do-Well sprang towards the thief.

A bright light was in her eyes. She skidded to a halt and held a hoof up to shield herself, but her vision still swam as her dark-adjusted irises struggled to shrink down to a normal size again. In her temporary blindness, she heard the mare say, “Fahget ya, ya crazy hero type!” and rapid hoofsteps moving toward the front of the building. As the female assailant ran, Mare-Do-Well heard her shout, “C'mon, big guy, we got tha thing, let's go!” A second set of hooves joined the first as both burglars soon burst through the front door.

It took a minute for Mare-Do-Well's eyes to readjust to see in the dark. By that time, the other two ponies were long gone. She had pressed the alarm button, so before long, the Manehattan police would be returning to Seapony Dockworks for the second time that night. That gave her a very short time to inspect the damaged crate. One side had been torn open roughly, the splintered fragments strewn about the surrounding floor. She inspected each side of the tall crate until she found what she was looking for: a label marked with two addresses. The return address was written in very fine print, but she saw that this particular package had been sent from outside Equestria, specifically the nation of Cameland. The address for the recipient was much more legible: “Manehattan University History Department.”

Mare-Do-Well's curiosity piqued. “Those two were after a...relic? An artifact from Cameland? But why? And they kept talking about 'the boss'...who are they working for?” She barely had time to mull the questions over in her head before she heard the sound of sirens on the approach. Quickly, she bolted out the back door of the warehouse and fled into the night. The next day, the police would receive an anonymous tip indicating possible suspects; for now, Mare-Do-Well had stumbled upon a mystery, and further investigation was on the horizon. Her heart pounded excitedly just thinking about it as she found her way back to the rooftops, leaping and bounding back to the simple comfort of her apartment. She barely had time to remove her outfit and put it away before the events of the day caught up to her body, and in sheer exhaustion, she threw herself onto the bed and buried her face in the pillow, her snoring muffled by her feather-filled companion.