Death to the Sun

by Mare Macabre

Chapter 5: Transit

The train ground to its first stop early the next morning. Doors opened down the car letting the passengers within, after collecting their things, meander toward the exit. Minutes later they were replaced by those boarding at the station in the small town. Sandhya, Pinkie and Flash waited patiently for the passenger exchange to finish and braced themselves as the train lurched and began again on its way.

Breakfast was a simple affair compared to their decadent meal the previous night. Oatmeal was eaten quietly, each diner absorbed in their own thoughts. Sandhya contemplated the fact that she was growing ever further from her lifelong home with a flutter of fear and excitement. Flash ruminated on his potentially grim task with a growing pit in his stomach. Pinkie conversed idly with herself in her mind, frowning as the conversation took a turn she did not enjoy.

After a stretch of silence following the small meal Flash drew his companions’ attention with a throaty cough. “We need to have a conversation about what we’re going to do if we actually find the—“ He looked at Sandhya, who in turn looked at the door. Her Crystal Eye blinked open for a moment, checking the integrity of her earlier soundproofing charm, then looked back at Flash and gave him a slight nod. “—the Star Killers.”

“That we do,” the baker mused somberly. “Sandhya, how many spells can you cast in a day?”

“Fifteen,” she said with a touch of pride. “Or, well, eleven if you don’t count cantrips,” she confessed, shrinking a little.

“Eleven’s not bad,” Pinkie nodded, bolstering the girl. “Flash?”

The soldier adjusted himself before answering. “One.”

“So that’s twenty four between the three of us,” the chef mused with a smirk. “I think that puts us at a decent advantage.”

“We can’t rely purely on magick though,” Flash chided. “Spells can be unreliable. I have a few weapons with me, and I can guess that you’ve got some in that bottomless bag of yours, but what about Sandhya?”

Sandhya blinked. “What about me?”

“I can’t help but notice there’s no sword-shaped bulge in your bag up there,” Flash intoned, pointing up at the travel pack. “And I don’t see much of anywhere you could hide a knife on you—“

“Oooh~ ” Pinkie piped tauntingly.

“Wha—th-that-shut up!” Flash sputtered. “I just mean I don’t know where—“ he came up short with a groan and palmed his face. “Okay, let’s try this: Do you have any weapons, Sandhya?” Sandhya, face flushed red and voice all but gone, shook her head. “Well there we go,” Flash grunted.

“Why would I need a weapon?” Sandhya asked nervously, “I’m not a fighter. I’m just here to find whatever they took.”

“Do you really think that’ll be the end of it?” Flash asked with a reproachful look, catching Sandhya off-guard. “If we find them we’ll have to kill them. They’re not just going to hand it over because, uh oh! the police are here, here you go.”

“Well we don’t necessarily have to kill them,” Pinkie corrected after noticing Sandhya’s look of horror. “We just have to neutralize them. More than anything we have to get the artifice out of their hands—everything else is just reactionary.”

Flash rolled his eyes with a groan. “Alright, so then how do we get it out of their hands? I don’t see any way that doesn’t end in a fight.”

“If I can see it I can call it,” Sandhya informed him. “Unless one of them knows the counterspell it will come to me. If that fails, we just need to know what it is and what it looks like and I can try to summon it.”

“Which meets the same problem, I assume,” Flash thought aloud.

Sandhya nodded. “All we need to do is to get them to expose it somehow. After that it’s a matter of how fast we can get away.”

“Unless they know the counterspell,” Flash groaned.

“Are they likely to know the counterspell?” Pinkie asked, trying to mediate between them.

“They won’t know to use it if they do,” Sandhya said with a confident grin.

“Why’s that?” Flash asked doubtfully.

Sandhya’s grin grew wider as she looked between her fellow passengers for a moment before closing her eyes. A vertical seam appeared in her forehead, then the skin split apart to reveal a third, sparkling eye, deep purple in color just as her others. Her roommates both flinched at the sight of the magickal Eye, Pinkie recovering quickly with interest while Flash remained disturbed.

“Wow! You really do have one!” Pinkie exclaimed excitedly. “I thought people were making it up! Not that I thought they were lying I just didn’t think they had their facts straight. I mean only Princess Celestia has one anymore, but you are her student, so it kind of follows that—“

“What the hell is that thing?” Flash finally managed to croak.

“A Crystal Eye,” Sandhya answered with a sneer as the Eye focused on him and made him cringe. “With it I can cast spells silently and motionlessly. It takes a considerable amount of concentration to use, but it almost triples the power of my spells.”

“How long can you use it for?” asked Pinkie.

Sandhya’s confidence faltered slightly, her two ordinary eyes opening. “Uh, three minutes about.”

“At a time?” the baker guessed.

“Erm . . . per day.”

“Well that’s useful,” Flash sighed, leaning his back against the wall.

“They don’t have to be consecutive,” Sandhya rebutted with a frown, the Eye snapping closed. “I can open and close it whenever I want. I can only maintain it for so long.”

“And thirty seconds of that daily maintenance was just spent explaining it,” Flash supposed.

Sandhya felt some heat in her face as she looked elsewhere and nodded.

“Does it let you cast more spells than you could normally?” Pinkie inquired.

“No,” Sandhya shook her head. “It just makes them simpler. . . and a little harder to cast.”

“And stronger,” Pinkie reminded her. “That’s good. Given that I think we should use your plan as our dominant strategy, but we do need to have backup plans. If the Star Killers are actually all skilled magicians we’ll probably be outmatched and possibly outclassed in that regard, so we need to have a contingency that doesn’t rely on magick to succeed.” She looked to Flash, who gave a reluctant nod. “If magick doesn’t work we’ll probably need to fight. If it comes to that we’ll most likely be outnumbered, but that doesn’t mean we won’t stand a chance. How long can you fly for, Flash?”

Flash seemed surprised by the question. “That’s kind of presumptuous, isn’t it?”

“Well you can fly, can’t you?” Pinkie asked with a bemused expression.

“As a matter of fact I can,” Flash said indignantly. “For about twenty minutes.” He glanced at Sandhya, expecting her to be surprised, but was slightly annoyed to realize she wasn’t. “What, both of you knew?”

“Well it’s kind of obvious,” Sandhya shrugged.

“Oh?” Flash returned, looking insulted. “And why’s that? My ears a little too tapered to be Cornish?”

“No—“

“Am I too thin? I look like I might float away?”

“You’re floating right now!”

Flash shut up and looked down. At some point in the conversation he had lifted off his seat and was hovering just a few inches above the cushion. He flushed red, turning his attention out the window, and dropped back into his chair without another word.

“How fast are you?” Pinkie continued.

Flash cocked an eyebrow. “You think Flash is my real name?”

“I think you don’t want me to say you’re real name,” Pinkie smirked, glancing at Sandhya.

Flash, once again, shut up.

“So you’re pretty fast,” the wizard assumed. “If I can’t call or summon the . . . whatever it is, you’ll have to try and swoop in and get it manually.”

“And failing that we’ll have to take it by force,” Flash asserted. He glanced at Pinkie, who nodded with a sigh, and felt a small smile on his face. “Leave that strategy to me. You two might be trained with magick but I’m the soldier here. I’ll come up with a plan before we get there.”

“At least tell us what it is beforehand,” Pinkie instructed, slightly annoyed.

Flash gave her a sarcastic salute. “Aye, Captain.”

The portly chef regarded him with mild distaste for a moment before turning to her benchmate. “Did the princess say anything about what it might be that we’re looking for?”

“She has no idea,” Sandhya sighed. “The straggler that was captured didn’t know anything of value. He was just a decoy.”

“That figures,” Flash mumbled. “Classic Griffonian tactic.”

Sandhya nodded. “So I’ve read. She did say the manifest of the Vault was being looked over for the missing item. I imagine she’ll have a report for me before we arrive.”

Pinkie started to say something but was interrupted by a growing squeal outside the window and a pulling sensation as the train began to slow around them. Over several minutes the train ground to a smooth halt in the station of the town of Clydesdale and people got on and off—more on than off—before a new batch of supplies was loaded and secured in the cargo car. After a change of engineers the train squeaked and squealed its way forward and started once again across the countryside.

“You really don’t have any weapons?” Flash asked once the squeaking and muddled conversations of the car had died down.

“I didn’t think I would need any,” Sandhya scowled. “I still don’t. My magick—“

“Is useless if you can’t concentrate,” he interrupted. “You’ve never been in a fight before, have you? Never practiced casting under pressure?” Sandhya kept her scowl but closed her mouth, answering with a curt nod. “Then you probably won’t be of any use in an actual combat scenario. If we’re outnumbered we can be sure they’ll try to use that against us, and the heavy hitter magician is who they’ll focus on. We might not be able to protect you, so need to be able to protect yourself. Without magick,” he finished, cutting off her response.

Sandhya pursed her lips and looked to Pinkie, expecting some kind of rebuke. The baker simply stared back, begrudging agreement covering her face. The young wizard felt the frown diminish and turned her eyes to the floor. “I guess you’re right.”

Flash watched her for a moment or two before standing from his seat. He reached over his head into his backpack, feeling around blindly for few seconds, then withdrew his hand and sat down.

“Here,” he said quietly.

Sandhya looked up at his extended hand and blinked in surprise to see a sheathed dagger held in his fingers. She looked past it at his face, expecting a sneer to meet her, but his expression was serious.

“Flash—“

“Maybe you’ll need it, maybe you won’t,” he shrugged. “Just make sure you have it if you do.”

The enchantress stared at him for a moment before looking back at the dagger. The sheath and grip were elegantly designed and emblazoned with the royal insignia—the old version—and showed a few subtle signs of use. Sandhya guessed from its slight wear and older iconography that the weapon probably wasn’t Flash’s own, but that of an older relative. She took it carefully, surprised by the weight of the small weapon, and turned a cautious but grateful look up to the soldier.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

“Just be careful with it,” Flash grunted, folding his arms. “It was my dad’s.”

The two regarded each other quietly, a faint smile spreading across both of their faces, but the moment was interrupted by a strangled squeak coming from their roommate. They looked at Pinkie, and frowned at the excited expression frozen on her face.

“Your first weapon!” she squealed happily, making Sandhya flinch as she hugged her. “Isn’t that exciting? This calls for a celebration!”

“Well it’s not really mine,” Sandhya started, but Pinkie put a finger over her mouth before she could say more.

“Yours or not you’re the one using now. That’s enough cause to celebrate, right?” She surprised both her companions by drawing a small cake out of her mystery bag, bringing a broad grin to each of their faces.

“Reason enough for me,” Flash smirked, taking the plate he was offered.

Sandhya hesitated before taking her own and smiled awkwardly as the cake was divided into three pieces and plopped onto each of the plates. “That seems like a lot, doesn’t it?”

“I’ll eat what you don’t,” Flash offered, his mouth already full.

“Nuh-uh!” Pinkie shot back, equally muffled by a mouthful of pastry. “I made it, it’s mine!”

Sandhya couldn’t help but feel a tingle of mirth at her frosting covered friends as they argued over who would get her uneaten cake, a suppressed snort turning into bubbling laughter as they became more animated. Eventually the two took notice of her, and the pause let them realize the silliness of their situation. Pinkie fell into a fit of giggling as Flash fought back a guffaw, and soon the room was filled with the sound of their laughter.

Throughout the day the train made few other stops, each passing calmly and quickly as passengers entered and exited the cars. Little else was said after the Incident of the Unfinished Cake; Sandhya, Pinkie, and Flash were all content to keep to themselves and their own distractions. Flash made notes and mumbled the odd word as he made his strategy for combat. Pinkie had taken to carving a little figure of an alligator with a knife and block of wood that her companions had both failed to notice her produce. Sandhya, after retrieving her bag and packing it behind her legs, had taken to reading one of the books she had packed on the history magickal items and devices in Equestria. The three of them ate of their own rations for lunch, hoping to save as many of Pinkie’s prepared pastries for the return trip as possible, found themselves quite hungry as evening and the day’s last stop approached.

“Should be . . . thirty minutes ‘til we reach Ponyville,” Pinkie thought aloud as she put up her cook station.

Flash let out a groan. “You know, I get that the horse is symbolic of strength and health and whatever—“

“Horses are also very important to the foundation, trade, and technology of Equestria,” Sandhya interjected with a smile.

“And whatever,” Flash repeated. “But is it really necessary to have little horse-puns in, like, everything?”

“Ponies aren’t horses,” Pinkie noted.

“Equines then, I don’t know,” Flash sighed, exasperated.

“I think it’s kind of cute,” Sandhya shrugged. “It makes me think of a little village full of ponies.” Flash turned a wilting look at her and Sandhya scowled. “Well it does.”

“I like Stalliongrad,” the chef commented with a snicker.

Flash quietly pinched the bridge of his nose. He decided to give up on the conversation, focusing instead on his blackened chicken and snap peas. The food, delicious as it was, went fast, and the small supper—cleaning and all—was finished before the familiar whine of locked wheels grating against the rails announced the train’s slow arrival in Ponyville. The party of spies sat patiently as thumping footsteps filled the car to announce the departure of the other passengers. Minutes passed while conversations were struck up just outside the train between friends and family as they reunited and various staff made their announcements about the train’s destination and future stops. Mostly empty carts were wheeled from cars ahead of their own and swapped for ones full with foodstuffs for the many passengers. The stewardess peeked around the wall into their car and awkwardly returned Pinkie’s smile and wave before disappearing again.

“You’d think she’d stop checking on us after every stop,” mumbled Sandhya once the server had gone.

“She could be a spy,” Flash mused, scratching his chin.

Pinkie giggled. “She probably just wants to be able to do her job properly. I doubt many people would ask not to be brought food on a three day train ride. I’ll bet she’s worried about us.”

“Worried about her paycheck more likely,” nodded the soldier. “She won’t get any tips if she can’t serve us meals.”

“Oh I’ll tip her,” Pinkie waved dismissively.

“Well don’t tell me that, tell her,” Flash scowled. "Why would I care if you tip her?"

Sandhya gave him a quizzical look. “Why are you so hostile all the time?”

Flash spared her a glance, then shrugged and looked out the window. “Just comes with the job I guess.”

“My brother’s in the guard and he’s never been such an ass,” Sandhya rebutted.

“Mm,” Flash hummed, leering at her. “Not to you.”

Sandhya’s face soured, questions forming in her head, but Flash surprised her with a sudden jolt. Sandhya and Pinkie frowned at him, tensing at the worry on his face. Flash’s eyes searched the air before him blindly before he snapped his head toward the door to their room, his companions following suit. The hall beyond the glass was empty, confusing the two women, but they tensed as heavy footfalls reached their ears. Their source plodded along the corridor of the car, thundering its way toward their room with an ominous slowness. Flash quietly moved a hand around his waist to where he no doubt had a hidden blade and waited, eyes fixed on the door.

A man stepped before the door’s window, his wide frame filling the pane and blocking all the light from the halls. He wore a long brown coat and leather shirt, his hair fell long and curly over his shoulders, and his dark skin deepened the shadow he cast over the room he had approached. His face was hard and dotted with scars and pockmarks, shaven save for long sideburns that joined seamlessly with his ratty mane. His eyes were dark, sunken and shaded, and his thick bushy brows were knit in a grim scowl. He reached a hand to the door and pulled, his frown deepening as it did not yield to his effort. He tugged again, rattling the frame and making Sandhya jump.

The man lifted his head, the shadows on his face lifting, and red, tired eyes looked blearily into the room. He squinted through the window, leaning closer, then reared back as he realized the room was occupied. The man glanced at the handle and released it, then smiled awkwardly and gave a curt wave—which Pinkie returned with gusto—before turning and shambling to the next room forward in the car. Sandhya let out her breath, her shoulders sagging, then flinched as Flash spun out of his seat and into hers.

“Soundproof that wall,” hissed the tense guard, pointing where he had previously sat.

Sandhya hesitated for a moment before repeating the spell she had used to block their sound through the door on their first day, then recast it over the door as an afterthought. Once it was done Flash returned to his seat and ran a hand over his face.

“What is a Griffonian doing here?” Sandhya whispered.

“Looking for us,” Pinkie grumbled, her usual bubbliness gone. “The princess was right, someone on the inside sent word ahead to the Star Killers.”

“If that’s true then he’s not looking for us,” Flash thought aloud, “he’s looking for you.”

Sandhya’s eyes bulged as he singled her out. “Me?”

“You’re in charge here,” Flash reminded her. “And you’re the princess’ own and only student. If they took you out it’d be a huge blow to her.”

“Or if they captured you they could use you as a weapon,” mused pinkie with a scowl. “Princess Celestia would surely meet with them if you were held hostage, even knowing what they’d do to her.”

Sandhya shook her head, stunned. “W . . . I—how do we know he’s even one of them?”

“I have a sense for that.” Flash rung his hands anxiously. “I’ve been checking the car every time people get on, he’s been the only one with an aura malevolent enough to make me think twice. No doubt, he’s an evil bastard.”

“But he looked exhausted,” Sandhya countered. “Maybe he’s just a tourist with a . . . less than savory past.”

“He was faking,” Pinkie growled. “I have a sense for that.”

Sandhya considered their counsel, brow furrowed and foot tapping. After a moment she realized they were both watching her anxiously. “What?”

“What should we do?” Pinkie asked.

“Wha—you’re asking me?”

“Like I said, you’re in charge of this thing,” Flash reminded her. “We take our orders from you. Whether we like it or not.”

Sandhya was too surprised to be upset by his grumbled addition. “I-I . . .” She looked between them both, her face flushing and thoughts becoming jumbled. “W-Well we don’t know what his objective is. We can’t really do anything without knowing why he’s here.”

“He’s probably a scout,” Flash shrugged. “Big as he is, Griffonians come much bigger. The tallest might even be eye-to-eye with Lady Luna.”

“Princess Luna,” Sandhya corrected distractedly. “If that’s true we may be able to follow him to the rest whenever he gets off the train.”

“If he doesn’t attack us first.” Flash glanced at the door. “You still confident in your magick to defend us?”

Sandhya suddenly became pale. “I . . . I didn’t think to prepare any spells for the day.”

Flash growled and rubbed his face then looked to Pinkie. “Please tell me you did.”

“I don’t need to,” Pinkie told him somewhat thankfully. “Like I said, I just believe they’ll work and they do, no preparations required. I guess your Eye doesn’t let you get away with that?” she asked Sandhya.

“No. It makes my spells stronger but I still need to be ready to cast them otherwise.”

“Perfect,” Flash groaned.

“It’s one man,” Pinkie grunted, glaring at him. “If he tries anything we’ll be ready. We’re not limited to our ability to use magick.”

“No, but it’s our strongest weapon. And she’s our strongest user,” Flash countered. He turned to Sandhya. “Start preparing your spells, I’m going to see what he’s up to.”

Sandhya grabbed him as he stood. “What are you doing? You can’t just go over there and stare at him if he’s as dangerous as you say!”

“I’m going to the bathroom anyway,” Flash growled, pulling his arm free. “I’ll just glance at him as I pass. I’ve got good eyes.” Sandhya pursed her lips and Flash folded his arms. “With your permission, of course, Captain.”

Sandhya blinked, shrinking under the challenging tone, then nodded meekly. “T-That sounds like a good plan. Do what you have to.”

Flash gave her a half-hearted salute before opening the door and slipping into the hall. He closed it before marching left toward the loo at the front of the car, glancing sideways into the room before theirs as he walked. He continued down to the first door in the car, slid the door open, stepped inside, then closed the door behind him. Sandhya leaned her head against the wall by the door, giving her a clear view of most of the hall through the window of the door. She waited nervously for Flash to exit the room at the end of the hall, her spellbook waiting unread in her hand. She grew more anxious at each passing minute, nodding deafly as Pinkie offered her some calming word or another. Finally, after what felt like an hour—but was closer to three minutes—the door at the end swung open and Flash reemerged into the hall.

He walked with a deliberate slowness, his eyes focused and pointed at the ground. He seemed troubled by something, a fact that worried Sandhya, but when he noticed her face watching him from the end of the hall his face cleared of its contemplative features and he stood straighter. His eyes darted sideways as he passed the room before theirs, his jaw tightening and head bobbing with a nearly imperceptible nod as he seemed to confirm something, then he sped his pace and slunk back into their room.

“He’s whispering something,” announced the discreet scout when he had sat. “It could be a spell.”

“Shoot,” Pinkie hissed, “a magician.”

“Was it just a word or did it look like he was talking?” Sandhya asked, worried.

“Talking.”

Sandhya’s face scrunched. “Then he’s probably contacting someone about us . . .” She chewed one of her nails for a moment, her eyes unfocused, then returned to the room. “We’re getting off at the next stop and changing trains. We need to get back to Canterlot.”

“What about the Star Killers?” Pinkie frowned.

“If they’re in Trottingham now they won’t be by the time we get there,” Sandhya sighed. “We’ll have to regroup, and whoever is aiding them needs to be weeded out. We can’t do anything to surprise them if someone is feeding them information about our movements.”

Flash opened his mouth to say something, then sat back and nodded with a surprised face. “That actually sounds like the best plan.”

“You left out the part where we nab that guy for questioning though,” Pinkie interjected.

Sandhya grimaced. “I don’t think that will be necessary. If the last operative they let get captured has taught us anything it’s that they don’t send people with important information into risky situations. I doubt he knows anything useful.”

“If he’s in contact with someone then he must know where they are right?” Pinkie reasoned.

“Unless they contacted him,” Sandhya nodded. “But that doesn’t mean he’ll know where they’re going to go once they’ve fled Trottingham.”

“It would be a safe bet that he doesn’t,” Flash agreed. “More often than not Griffonians will have it so only the leader of a unit will know any locations, maneuvers, or special tactics that will be used in a given situation, and he won’t divulge the information until it’s time to use it.”

“Meaning we’ll need to capture their leader to make any real progress in learning about them,” Sandhya concluded. “But, much as I hate to say it, we’re not here to learn—we’re here to retrieve what they stole.”

Pinkie raised her hands in acquiescence. “I follow you then.”

Sandhya ignored her faint blush and finally turned her attention to her book of spells, flipping through its many pages to the ones that seemed as though they would be useful for whatever lay ahead. “Flash, keep an eye out. I can’t be distracted from this.”

“Aye, Captain.”

Sandhya paused, the heat in her face growing as she realized the sincerity of his response, then buried her nose in the book. They really do look to me as their leader, don’t they? Should I really lead people older and more experienced than me? She shook her head and focused on the spell, following the intricate loops and swirls of her handwriting and absorbing the familiar energy from the weathered page. I have to focus. Whether I’m the leader or not, I have a job to do. They’re counting on me.

She continued to read, readying spells in her mind as the train thundered along the tracks and along the edge of a great, dark forest. Over a bridge and around a wide, sweeping turn the train traveled, coldly indifferent to the calls of the monstrous creatures that dwelled within the shadowy woods. The car was silent save for the bumps and thuds of gravel crushing under the heavy metal wheels of the trolley and Sandhya’s hushed whispering as she studied her book. Dusk cast a bloody light over the sky, and in minutes the world was dark. Flash, as he watched the door, ever vigilant, felt his eyes burn and his head grow heavy as night came, despite his nervous energy. Sandhya too felt exhaustion sweep over her, her tome becoming a burdensome weight in her hands. Pinkie blinked, again, and again as drowsiness filled her mind. In seconds Flash slumped against the wall, his head lolling sideways. Sandhya soon followed, her spellbook with its unfinished pages thumping to the floor. Pinkie saw them fall with worry and confusion, and then with panic as she realized what was happening.

“No,” she groaned weakly, reaching for her magick. “Clear . . . Clear the air . . .” But the air did not clear. The heavy, suffocating gas strangled her thoughts and kept her magick out of reach. Soon she too was leaned against the corner of bench and wall, fighting with all her strength to remain awake.

Wake up, she thought weakly, her fingers twitching. Wake up.

Wake up . . .

You can't do anything without me, can you?

* * *