> Little Filly Lost
>  by bkc56
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> 1. Filly in a Storm
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“What the hay?” I stomped my hoof on the floor. “Are you kidding me?”

Seated behind his desk, the precinct captain shook his head. “No. He was released a couple hours ago.”

I paced to the closed office door and back to the desk, half-talking to myself. “But we know he started that fire. His legs were burned, for Celestia's sake.”

The captain leaned back in his chair. “He still claims it was an accident, and he burnt his legs trying to put it out.”

I turned to face him. “Yeah, an accident, like I accidentally ate breakfast this morning.”

He lifted his hooves. “Still, we can't prove it was intentional.”

“We know he had an altercation with the shop owner a couple days prior. He said the shop would be out of business in a week. That’s a clear threat in my book. The building was half destroyed, and all his inventory ruined. That’s making good on that threat.” I shook my head. “That was no accident.”

The captain looked down at a paper on his desk. “The parents have agreed to repair the building, replace all the damaged inventory, and pay all lost wages during reconstruction.”

“So they’re buying him off.” I snorted loudly. “Just because they're rich, they can bail the little snot out? What kind of justice is that?”

He shrugged. “The shop owner is satisfied and won't press charges. The son’s going to get off with probation.”

I pointed at the captain. “When the next place goes up in flames, I’ll find proof that it was intentional. Mommy and daddy won’t be able to save him twice. And you know it will happen. Sooner or later, it’s going to happen again.” I slammed my hoof to the floor.

“Umm, Steel, about you investigating if there’s a next time…” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“What? Oh, buck me.”

“I'm afraid the higher-ups have been receiving pressure. The couple are two very influential ponies in both government and economic circles.”

“No…” I could feel myself getting a little lightheaded as I realized where this was going.

“They've called for your removal from the force. They claim you had a vendetta against their son.”

“I had a solid case. Everyone agreed I had a solid case.” I pointed at the captain. “You, yourself called it good detective work.”

“I know.” He shook his head, not meeting my gaze.

I raised a hoof towards the ceiling. “So, the road apples roll downhill and land on me?”

He looked up again. “I'm sorry, Steel. It's totally out of my hooves. The couple demanded something showy. They wanted the chief to come down here and do it himself, but I convinced him that it would be both bad publicity and terrible for morale. So the chief told the couple he was not going to do it personally.”

“Probably made himself a target too.” I snorted in frustration.

He nodded. “The couple then called for his and my resignation. I understand he explained to them just where they could put that request.”

I held out a hoof. “So that's it?”

“I'm afraid so. I'm sorry. You'll need to turn in your badge and clean out your desk. I demanded a full month's severance for you. And you haven't taken a vacation day in years, so all that time will also be paid out to you.”

I stared at the floor as everything around me seemed to freeze. As far back as I can remember, all I wanted to do was be a cop. As I got older, I modified that to being a detective. Much of my life had been focused on that one goal. And when I achieved it, I knew, I absolutely knew I was right where I belonged. While the job was about catching the bad guys, my passion was always about helping ponies. Ponies who were at the lowest point in their lives. Ponies with no one else to help them. I blinked a couple times as the office came back into focus.

And now, in an instant, all that was being stripped away. As I removed my badge from my saddlebag, it felt like I was cutting off a leg. It was a part of me, and I felt that loss deep in my gut as I gently set the badge on the captain’s desk. My hoof lingered over it for a moment.

Without a word or making eye contact, I turned and headed towards the door. As I reached it, I stopped, but didn’t turn around. “Look, captain, I know this wasn’t your fault. I don’t hold it against you.”

“So, we’re good?” There was a certain hopefulness in his voice. I could understand that. While we weren’t friends, I’d known him since I joined the force. He acted as a mentor those first couple years. I respected him.

I glanced back at him and sighed. “Yeah, we’re good.” I walked out of the office. I wanted to slam the door so hard it would tear the door frame right out of the wall. As an earth pony, I was strong enough to do just that. However, I was defeated. There was no fight left in me. I gently closed the door and headed towards my desk. 

I felt adrift in a sea of emotions. Waves of feelings crashed over me: anger, rage, sadness, and especially loss. If I couldn’t hold it together, I’d be swamped by them. I didn’t know what would happen then, what I’d do if I sank. What I might be capable of doing.

Citrine was waiting for me. She’d been a friend for some years. We’d even gone out a few times. Not romantically, just as friends. And that’s what she was now, a friend.

“I’m so sorry, Steel. This isn’t right. No one here thinks this is right.” She reached out to touch me, but stopped short. She glanced between me and her hoof as her tail swished a couple times. Were the situation reversed, I wouldn’t have a clue what to say or do either.

“So you, everypony, they all know?” I glanced around the room.

“News travels fast in this place. Plus that office isn’t exactly soundproof.” She waved a hoof in its direction.

“Yeah, I was probably the last one to find out what was actually happening to me.” I noticed a cardboard box sitting on my chair. I tapped it. “You?”

She nodded. “Yes. This mess is bad enough. You didn’t need to be forced to look around for a stupid box to put your stuff in.”

“Thanks,” I whispered. Citrine had always been attentive and sensitive to those around her. That skill was useful when interviewing traumatized victims of crime. Now I was the one in shock and in need of a little empathy.

I took a couple pictures and some trinkets off the desk and set them in the box. I opened one of the file drawers. Most of this and everything in the other drawer would go to the ponies who took over my pending cases.

I picked up two small ornate wooden boxes and opened one. These were medals of valor for actions while on duty. This particular one had been awarded by Princess Celestia herself. That had been an amazing day. It was a great honor, but… it was also a production. They paraded everyone out on that stage as great heroes. We were all just emergency service ponies doing our job. What we were trained to do. And not for a medal, but because it was important.

I closed the box and picked up the other one. They made a loud clunk as they hit the bottom of the trash can.

Citrine looked at me wide-eyed. “Steel?  You can’t just throw those away. They’re so special. They’re an important part of your life.”

I spat out, “They weren’t important enough to help me keep my job, were they?” She took a step back. I paused and looked down at the floor. I could feel the eyes of everypony in the room on me. “Sorry. I’m sorry. They’re just… They’re for events that no one remembers,” I closed my eyes and shook my head, “or cares about.”

“I remember. And I know the ponies you saved still care.” Her voice was pleading.

I just shrugged. I pulled out a folder and opened it. It was full of various certificates and letters of commendation. The sum total of my career, documented on a few sheets of fancy paper. There was a soft thunk as they joined the two boxes. Citrine looked from the trash can up to me. Tears welled up in her eyes. That look pierced me, and I flinched. I’d never intentionally do anything to hurt her. Never. But just like everything else today, it was out of my hooves.

I pulled out another folder. This was full of contacts and informants I’d generated over the years. These ponies knew me. The list would be useless to anypony else. Let them generate their own contacts. I’m not sure why, but I added it to my box. So many years reduced to an almost empty box. I looked back at Citrine with a heavy sigh.

“Steel, you’re not going to do anything stupid, are you? You won’t try and hurt…” Her eyes squinted as she scrutinized me.

“No.” I shook my head. “I’m not going to try and get even. I won’t hurt anypony.”

She stomped a hoof. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it! You’re not going to try and hurt…” a shadow crossed her face as she forced out the next word, “yourself, are you?”

I just stared back at her. My mind raced. That sense of loss flooded over me again. I’m not really sure what I might be capable of doing. But then I remembered that look she had a few moments ago. It tore at me again. How much worse would it be if I...

She stepped forward until we were almost muzzle to muzzle. “Steel, promise me you won’t do anything you can’t take back. You’ve never lied to me. So you promise. Right now.”

I wanted to turn away, to escape, but I couldn’t. “Okay, I promise. I won’t do anything stu… I won’t do... that.” I meant it too.

Her gaze remained locked on me for a bit, then she took a step back. A slight smile crossed her lips. “Okay then. You keep in touch with me. I don’t want you vanishing off the face of Equestria. Another promise?”

“Yes, I promise. I just can’t say how regular it’ll be.” I sighed. “Thanks, Citrine, you’re a good friend.”

With that, I placed the box of salvaged belongings on my back and headed towards the exit. There weren’t many ponies in the squad room at this time of day, but those who were around gave me a nod or raised a hoof as I crossed the large room. They all looked sad. In a perverse way, I was glad, because it meant they cared, at least a little. When I reached the door, I glanced back for a moment. Citrine was still at my desk, levitating things out of the trash can. I shook my head and walked out.







It didn’t take me long to establish a new daily routine. Mid-evening I’d make my way to one of a number of questionable establishments where I’d spend the next few hours working to forget what a dung pit my life had become. Around 2:00 AM I’d stumble home where I’d sleep until at least noon. A couple meals and a bunch of aspirin later, and I’d be ready to do it all again. The days were beginning to blur, and I liked it. I was feeling satisfied with the progress I was making. 

My only doubt was if I was, perhaps, meandering a bit too close to the edge of my promise to Citrine. But I honestly wasn’t trying to hurt myself. In fact, it was the exact opposite. It was a well thought out plan to stop the hurting.

I was heading home after another successful evening. Just my luck. It was raining... hard. I suppose I could have checked the weather report and stayed home, but that would have put me a full day behind. Besides, this would count as my shower for the week. The rain poured off my back and down my legs. I shivered. What’s the worst that could happen, catch pneumonia and die? “I've had worse days,” I mumbled to myself.

As I passed by the opening to an alley, I heard a noise. Perhaps a cry, or a whine? It was hard to hear clearly over the driving rain. Probably some cat that, like me, didn’t make it home before the rain started. I kept walking. Then some deep cop sixth sense assaulted me. I shook my head to push it away. I don’t care. I don’t do that anymore. But it came back even louder like a blaring fire alarm. Those instincts had saved my life more than once. That inner voice was really hard to ignore. I stopped walking. I don’t need this. I don’t want this. I’m not going to do this. I sighed, turned around, and went back to the alley.

As I peered in, I couldn’t make out much with the rain and darkness. Just a vague shadow. It was too big for a cat. Perhaps a dog? I took a few steps in, and in the faint light I could make out a light blue-green unicorn filly huddled in a corner between the wall and a large box. Her bright red mane was soaked, plastered against her body. Her red tail lay in a puddle of water. Her head was down, and water trickled off the end of her muzzle. I heard a soft sob.

I’d guess lost or hiding. Though this young, in this rain, it’s not by choice. “Hey, kid, what are you doing out here in the rain? Are you lost?” She didn’t respond or even look up. Yeah, that was pretty dumb. Of course she’s lost. I’ve never been good with kids. I just can’t seem to speak at their level.

“Come on, kid, you can’t sit out here in the rain. Let’s get you someplace dry.” No response. I couldn’t very well throw her on my back, and just walking away wasn’t something I was willing to do. So I took the only option left to me: I sat down in the puddle next to her. I was already soaked, so it couldn’t get any worse.

After a few moments, she raised her head just enough to glance at me with large violet eyes, then dropped it again. I took off my saddlebag and shifted my position to get a bit more comfortable. My rump was wet, my head was pounding, and I was sitting in the rain with a mute filly. The fun never ends here in the Jewel of Equestria.

“Hey, kid, you hungry?” Her head came up just enough for her to peek at me through the tops of her eyes. I opened my saddlebag and pulled out an oat bar I knew was in there. I ripped it open with my teeth and passed it to her. She grabbed it like a fox would prey and devoured it in just a few bites. The empty wrapper fluttered to the ground. A mouse scurried out to grab any crumbs that had fallen. Then the filly raised her head higher to look directly at me.

I shrugged. “I think that’s all I had.” I glanced in the bag again, nothing. I flipped it around and checked the other pocket. As I dug down deep, the filly leaned forward to peer into the bag. At the very bottom I found another bar. I tore it open. “Last one. The store’s closed.”

She ate this one with more restraint, taking reasonable bites and chewing them before swallowing. When she finished, she whispered, “Thanks,” without looking up.

We sat in silence for a few minutes. I decided to see if I could connect. “You have a name?” Nothing. “Do you live around here?” More nothing. “Where are your mom and dad?” She scrunched down and let out a soft moan. Yup, you still got a way with kids there, Steel.

After a while longer, I decided I’d had enough. I was going to gamble that she didn’t want to be sitting out here all alone in the rain. “Look, I’m cold, I’m wet, and I’m tired. I’m going home. You can come with, or you can sit in your puddle.” I didn’t want to bring some strange filly home, but there was no place I could take her at this time of night. Or was it morning? I was never totally sure when the transition from very late to very early happened.

I stood up, put my saddlebag on, and exited the alley. Water from my soaked rump ran down my legs. My tail was heavy and dripping. I paused for a moment, then turned and started walking slowly towards home. After a few paces, I glanced back to see her following from a distance. The gamble had paid off. I stopped to let the filly catch up, but she also stopped. I sighed and continued on. Each step created a small splash. I shook my head to get my wet mane out of my eyes.

When I reached the apartment building, I entered the foyer and started up the stairs. I should probably have cared about the trail of water I was leaving behind me, but I didn’t. Partway up, I heard the door hinges squeak behind me. She was still back there, although I didn't look. At my floor, I went down the hall to my room, unlocked it, and flicked on an inside light. I turned around and saw the filly standing a few paces away. Small puddles were forming at the base of each of her hooves.

“I’m going in and locking the door. Come in now, or don’t.” She held her ground for a moment, then slowly came forward. She peered around the corner into the room, then up at me, and, finally, walked in. I followed, closing and locking the door. I went into my bedroom for a second and came back out.

“Here’s a towel so you can dry off.” I set it on the coffee table. “And here’s a blanket.” I tossed it on the couch. “That’s comfortable, and large enough for you.” I pointed at an open door. “Bathroom. Be sure to close both doors.” I turned and walked to my room. “Good night. And you’re welcome.” I went in and closed the door down to just a crack.







I squinted at the brightness. It felt like I’d only just shut my eyes, but the angle of the sun through the window told me it was probably almost noon. Suddenly, I heard some noises from the kitchen and tensed up. There was someone in the apartment. Then I remembered, lost filly. I closed my eyes as I waited for my heartrate to drop. After a quick stop in the bathroom, I trudged out the other door to the main room of the apartment

The filly was up on her hind legs at the stove. She dropped down as I approached. “I made pancakes. I heard you were up and started yours. They’ll be ready in a minute.” The filly paused for a moment. “I tried really hard to be quiet so you could sleep.” She lowered her head and dropped her ears as if expecting to be yelled at. I hoped that was not an indication of her home life.

“Sounds great. I don’t usually get a real breakfast.” Her head came partway up with a slight smile.

I walked along the counter. No spills, no big mess, no disaster. There were a few things sitting in the sink, rinsed and waiting to be washed. I moved to the table and sat down. There was a pitcher of apple juice on the table. I gave her a sideways glance, and she explained, “I found a can of concentrate in the freezer, so I mixed it up. I hope that’s okay…”

“It’s fine. We can’t drink it frozen.” I poured myself a glass and downed it in a couple gulps. It didn’t have the bite of my usual nighttime beverage, but it still tasted good. She went back to the stove, stood on her hind legs again, and used a spatula to flip the pancakes. I did a double take. She used magic to hold the spatula. That seemed pretty advanced for a filly her age. Although, I don’t have any experience with kids, especially unicorn fillies. Perhaps it was normal.

I sat in silence and waited. I was going to take this slow. I had to establish some kind of rapport or she’d shut down as she had in the alley. Nice and easy, Steel.

She put the pancakes on a plate and levitated it to the table, setting it down in front of me. I added some syrup. I prepared myself. She looks like she knows how to cook a few pancakes, but no matter how they taste, I needed to keep a neutral expression. Remember, build trust, establish a rapport. I cautiously took a bite and chewed. I could feel her eyes on me… watching. My mouth was assaulted by the taste. It was good. I took another, larger bite. It was really good.

“These aren't half bad” I got out between bites. “How’d you learn your way around a kitchen?”

She sat down in a chair across from me and took a sip from her half empty glass of juice. “My daddy’s gone a lot. He taught me how to cook so I could make my own meals when he was away. I learned how to clean up too so he didn’t have a mess when he got home. It was always so late.”

I finished my breakfast in silence. “Well, that was really tasty. Thank you.” I stood up, grabbing my plate. “What's say we do the dishes together and get them put away?”

Once we were done, I moved to the living room and sat down at one end of the couch. She stood in the kitchen, watching me. I patted the cushion. “You can come sit too, if you want.” She slowly walked in and jumped up. Rather than facing forward, she sat at the other end facing me.

“So, what’s your name?” She didn’t respond. “Come on, kid, I let you stay in my apartment and eat my food. You owe me a little something. All I’m asking for is your name.”

“Windflower,” she said softly.

“Windflower. Okay. I’m Dark Steel. Nice to meet you.” She just stared. “What’s your mom’s name?”

Her ears dropped, and she looked down at her hooves. Okay, looks like the mom’s out of the picture. “What’s your dad’s name?”

She raised her head again. “Daddy.”

I sighed. I wonder what age foals need to be before they realize their parents have actual names too. “All right, let’s see about getting you home to your dad.” She perked up a little at that. “Do you know your home address?” Her interest fell away as she lowered her head. “You… you don’t know where you live?”

She shook her head. “We just moved there.”

“I see, okay. I’m going to take you down to the Canterlot Police Station so they can try--”

Her reaction was instant. She screamed, “No!” and jumped down to the floor. She bolted for the door, but couldn’t undo the lock. She looked like a trapped animal. After a wild look around the room, she dove behind a large stuffed chair in the corner and dropped down out of sight.

Why was she so afraid of the police? Most schools teach foals to go to the police if they need help or are lost. They’re always portrayed as friendly ponies who can help you get home safely. That’s clearly not what this filly believed.

I sat quietly, looking straight ahead and not at the chair she was hiding behind. After a few moments, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw her head appear above the chair, then drop down. A couple minutes later, she did it again. Then I saw her peek around the side of the chair. I slowly turned my head towards her.

“Are you afraid of the police?”

“Uh-huh.” She nodded.

“But they can help.”

She violently shook her head.

I lifted a leg. “Okay, okay. We won’t go to the police right now. Perhaps we can just talk some more?” She didn’t respond, but she took a step forward so she was only half behind the chair.

“Windflower. That’s a pretty name. How did you get it?”

“I was named after a great unicorn wizard who lived a thousand years ago. She was very powerful and saved Equestria with Princess Celestia. My daddy said I’m descended from her, and that my coat and mane are the same colors as her. That’s why they named me after her.”

I nodded. “Well, that sounds like a fun story.” I had to wonder how much of that was true versus a foal’s bedtime story.

She stomped her hoof. “It’s not a story. It’s all true. My daddy would tell me all about her before bed.” She paused to take a breath. “We even went to see her journal once.” Her voice went  softer. “I wish I could see it again.”

I tilted my head a little. “Journal? What journal? Where?”

Her body relaxed. “It’s in the museum of ponies.”

“Museum of ponies?” I glanced up as I thought. “I don’t… Wait. You mean the Canterlot Museum of Pony History?”

“I think so? We only went once when I was small.”

“You’re kinda small now.” I grinned.

She took a couple steps towards me and stomped a hoof again. “Am not! I can cook and take care of myself. I can get to school and home again. I do my own homework. Daddy says I’m a big mare now.” She snorted once, glaring at me.

I raised my legs defensively. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say you were a little filly.”

But she was a little filly. At least I was making some progress. I’d converted her from scared to defiant. Now if I could just nudge her to be a tiny bit more compliant, perhaps I could make some progress.

“So, you go to school. Do you know where it is?” She shook her head. “Do you know the name of the school?” Another shake.

Suddenly, her eyes lit up. “I know my teacher’s name. It’s Miss Peach. She’s really nice and smart. Class with her is fun, and I learn lots of stuff. But it’s kind of useless stuff like words and numbers, not important stuff like my daddy teaches me.”

She wants to help, she just doesn’t remember anything useful. Much like questioning a suspect, I just need to find the right way in. Let’s try a different approach building on things she does know. “What’s your school look like?”

“It’s a big brick building. It has a playground on one side. There are swings, teeter totters, and stuff to climb on. There's a big sandbox to play in too.” A hint of a smile appeared. “I have fun there.”

Good… now we build on that. “You say you walk to school. How do you find your way?”

She closed her eyes as she recited instructions. “In the morning, I go to the right two blocks, turn right, and two more blocks. In the afternoon, it’s two, left, two more.” She opened her eyes again.

“That’s great! Is there anything you remember on the way?”

She shook her head. “No, I don’t think so.”

“What about a special building, or park, or perhaps a statue?”

Her face was getting tight with frustration. “I don’t know.”

“Perhaps something else then. Anything that stands out to you.”

It was too much, and she broke. “I don’t know. I don’t know!” She reared up and slammed both hooves on the floor. “We just moved there. I don’t know.” She sobbed once.

“I’m sorry, kid. I’m just trying to help. I didn’t mean to upset you with all those questions.” I sighed to myself. You blew it, Steel. You pushed too hard, and lost her. I needed some help. I need to talk to Citrine, but without the filly. Perhaps a little bribery...

“Okay. Well, we need to try and find your dad. I’ll make you a deal. How’d you like to go see that journal today?”

Her eyes went wide as did her smile. “Oh, can we really? I’d like to do that. But… what’s the catch?”

“I need to go see somepony for a bit, but it’s important that you stay here. So if you’ll wait until I get back, then I’ll take you to go see the journal.”

She nodded enthusiastically, “I can do that!”

“Great. So, will you wait right here for me? Will you be okay by yourself?”

“Yes, yes.” She pranced in place a few times.

“Good. I’m trusting you now. Hopefully no more than thirty minutes.”







Be it a blessing or a curse, I was only about a ten minute walk from the precinct. I used an easy canter to cut that significantly. When I arrived, I saw a couple officers heading in and asked them if they could send Detective Citrine out. They knew me and readily agreed.

In mere moments, the pale yellow unicorn practically flew out the front door of the building. She slid to a stop before spotting me.

“Steel, where have you been?” She trotted up to where I was standing and stomped a hoof which hit the edge of a puddle left over from the night’s rain. I felt the splash of water on my front legs. “You said you’d keep in touch.” She moved closer, her hot breath in my face. “But it’s been weeks.”

I hung my head. “I know. I should have dropped by. I’ve just been real… busy.” She squinted at me, and I had an awful feeling she knew. Thinking about it, I wouldn’t put it past her to have beat cops keeping an eye out for me. She just might know more about my plan than I wanted.

I took a step backwards and away from that glare. “Citrine, I have a problem.”

She hissed, “Several, I should think.”

I winced at the barb, but I couldn’t say she was wrong. I took a breath and continued, “Last night in the storm, I found a lost filly in an alley a few blocks over. She’s pretty young. I wanted to bring her here today, but she absolutely freaked out when I mentioned the police. She’s had a bad experience, and bringing her here wouldn’t work.” Citrine’s face softened, and her brows knit in worry. “So, could you please check all the missing foal reports and see if anything mentions a lost filly? Her name is Windflower. She has a light blue-green coat, a bright red mane and tail, and violet eyes. I think the mom is gone, perhaps deceased. But the dad should be around.” I was relieved to get the focus off me. This was more important anyway.

“Sure, I can do that. How do you want me to let you know what I find?”

I tried to consider a schedule that didn’t actually exist. “If you locate him, I guess you can bring him to my apartment tonight. Otherwise I’ll swing by in the morning. Somepony should be very anxious to find this filly.”

She nodded. “Okay, I’ll get right on this.”

“Thanks, Citrine.” I mindlessly glanced over my shoulder in the direction of my apartment. “I need to get back now. We’re going to a museum to see some old journal. I’m hoping as I build her trust, I can get more information from her.”

“You, at a museum?” She snorted. “That I would pay to see.”

Me at a museum. Me taking care of a little lost filly. These were definitely not part of my well thought out plan.

Citrine cleared her throat. “Steel, one more thing. Did you hear that the captain resigned?”

“What?” My head snapped around to look at her.

“Yeah. It was a little over a week after you left. In his official statement he said, and I quote: I cannot, in good conscience, continue to work in an environment that places more value on politics and social influence than on the individuals who protect pony rights.”

I shook my head. “He said that?“

“Yup. It created quite a stir throughout the force. I think there are going to be some changes coming.”

I looked down at the ground. “I didn’t want him to quit his job over this. It wasn’t his fault.”

“I know, Steel. But it’s okay. He was immediately hired by the Vanhoover Police Force. He’ll be taking over a precinct, replacing a veteran captain who’s retiring. He and his family moved there just last week. He’ll be fine. And he’s far, far away from the Canterlot bureaucracy.”

I smiled and nodded. “That’s good. I’m glad he was able to escape this place. But I really gotta go. I got a date with a filly.”
> 2. Roots in the Past
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

As I opened the door to my apartment, I checked the clock. Twenty-six minutes. I beat my estimate. I froze as I saw my dress blue uniform lying on a chair. Windflow was standing next to it with fire in her eyes.

“You lied to me. You’re a cop.” Her horn was glowing. I’m sure she was too young to know any attack spells. I hoped she was too young. I glanced around for the nearest source of cover.

“I didn’t lie to you.” She widened her stance, head down. “First, you never asked what I did. Second, I was a cop, but I’m not anymore. I just haven’t gotten rid of the formal uniform yet.” Her eyes flicked to the uniform and back. “It’s just for show and fancy events.” As a detective, I never wore a uniform on the street. But we all had our dress blues for formal events. Unfortunately, most of the time, formal meant the funeral for a fallen brother. I don’t know why I still had the uniform. It was almost like I wanted to remind myself about my time on the force, and how badly it had ended.

The glow around her horn faded. I breathed a small sigh of relief. But to be non-threatening, I remained by the door and sat down.

She mirrored me and plopped down too. “So, why aren’t you a cop anymore?”

I thought for a moment and decided to not be patronizing. I wouldn’t be specific, but I wouldn’t insult her with “it’s complicated”. “I arrested a pony. He was guilty, but some other powerful ponies didn’t like that I had arrested him. They said I couldn’t be a cop anymore.”

“What type of cop were you?”

“I was a detective.”

She tilted her head. “I’ve heard of them. There are different types. What did you do?”

“Mostly, we’d solve puzzles. Like why is a little filly sitting in the rain, alone, late at night. Sometimes we’d try to find somepony, like a little filly’s lost father.”

“So you’re not a cop anymore, but you’re still a detective?”

I slowly nodded. “Yeah, I guess today, I am.”

“Are you going to find my daddy?” There was a hint of desperation in her voice.

I smiled softly. “I’ve already started to do that, kid.”

She stared at me for a long time, then nodded once. “Okay. You promised to take me to see the journal when you got back.”

I stood up. “I did. But first I think you should put that back where you got it.” I pointed at the uniform. “It’s not nice to go through other pony’s stuff, you know.”

The uniform floated up and followed her as she galloped into my room. A moment later, her head poked out the doorway.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay. We’ll just agree to not do that anymore.” She nodded. I gave her a little grin. “So, you ready to go?”

She broke into a smile and trotted over.







We walked most of the way to the museum in silence. The air was clear and the streets clean from the previous night’s rain. It was a pleasant day for a stroll. I didn’t know the first thing about making small talk with a filly, and I hadn’t established enough trust to ask any more personal questions. That would, hopefully, come later. Still, she seemed content, looking at the sights as we made our way through the streets of Canterlot.

We entered the museum and walked to the reception desk located in the center of a great hall. The walls were lined with statues and paintings of ponies long gone. Perhaps they were important. Perhaps they were just lucky that a likeness of them survived the passing of centuries to be on display in a museum. Either way, I doubt anypony remembers them now. There was a pretty mare behind the desk who greeted us with a large smile, “Good morning. Can I help you find something?”

“I hope so. We’re here to see a journal from a thousand years ago--”

“Oh, the Windflower exhibit. It’s really very interesting.” I glanced down at the filly who looked up at me with a smug smile. The mare also glanced down. “My, don’t you look a lot like Windflower. Anyway, it’s on the second floor, room 203. As you enter the room, it’s on your right.” She lifted her right leg. “I’m sorry, but the third floor is closed. We had a break-in the other night, and it’s still off-limits.”

“That’s fine, we’re really just here to see the journal.” I smiled at the mare as we turned to head up the stairs.

We found the room and the display as promised. The centerpiece was a big wooden display case with the journal lying open behind the glass. There was a painting on the wall above the case. It showed a small filly standing on one side of a stream, with an older unicorn stallion in a cape watching her from the other side.

The filly pointed at the picture. “See, that’s Windflower, who I’m named after. That’s the wizard who teached her everything she knew about magic and stuff.”

I smirked at her. “Umm, that would be taught.”

She rolled her eyes at me. “You sound like Miss Peach.”

I looked between the painting and the filly. “I have to admit, you do look almost like her twin sister. Even your eye color is the same.” Perhaps they were related, although after a thousand years, it would be hard to be sure.

We spent some time looking at the other artifacts in the display. There were mixing bowls, containers full of chemicals, and a case with a half-dozen paper wrapped balls labeled as smoke bombs. Most appeared to be reproductions or artifacts much newer than a millennium. The information indicated that the original Windflower was more of an alchemist than a wizard. The filly insisted I read every display sign to her, some more than once. She wasn’t just looking with idle curiosity. She was studying everything as if committing it to memory. 

I was particularly interested in another display case. It contained a letter with the royal seal and signed by Princess Celestia. She confirmed Windflower’s participation in stopping the attack on the castle by the New Lunar Republic as described in the journal. Hmm, I bet that would be an interesting read. That’s when I saw a sign that said copies of the journal were available in the gift shop. I glanced down at the filly. She’d like that. Getting it for her could help put her more at ease for future questions.

“I need to go downstairs for a bit. Are you okay to stay here a little longer?”

Without breaking her gaze on what she was studying, she slowly responded, “Uh-huh.”

I trotted down the stairs and over to the gift shop. It looked pretty typical. Lots of posters on the walls. One was a print of the painting I’d seen upstairs. Bookshelves full of books to buy. Rows of shelves full of reproductions and other trinkets to waste bits on. I found the mare on duty. “The sign upstairs said you have Windflower’s journal available?”

“Absolutely.” She walked towards a display, and I followed. "We have small booklets that contain all the text from the journal. We also have these very attractive reproductions of the journal. They’re as historically accurate as we can make them.” She took one off the shelf and opened it.

“Just the booklet for today. Thanks.”

I was heading back up to the second floor when the filly appeared at the top of the stairs. “You all done?” I called up. She nodded and trotted down the stairs.

“Thanks for bringing me here. It was fun.” She was smiling. It was good to see her happy. I’d done what I promised by bringing her here. That’s where trust starts.

We left the museum and wandered around aimlessly, eventually ending up in a park we happened upon. She chattered on and on, almost non-stop, about her namesake and all the things she’d learned today. Of course I knew it all since I’d read the displays to her, but I let her talk because she was finally starting to open up to me. We were establishing a rapport. The beginning of this relationship was critical to questions I was going to have to ask her soon.

We stopped at a café for lunch. As we ate, I decided to ask about something I’d noticed earlier. “That’s a nice bracelet you wear on your leg. Did you make that?” The bracelet was made from a braided cord strung with a repeating set of three beads, each a different shape and color.

She smiled and held up her leg. “Yes, it’s a friendship bracelet. The beads are my colors.” I realized she was right. Light blue-green, red, and violet, repeated around the bracelet. “I made one for daddy just like it, but his is bigger. Sometimes he wears it at home. He says he always keeps it in his saddlebag to remind him of his best friend.” She flashed a big grin.

She looked at her bracelet as her smile faded. “I miss my daddy.” She glanced up at me. “You’re a detective. You find things. Are you going to find my daddy?”

“I’m certainly going to try,” I assured her.

After lunch we returned to the apartment. I set my saddlebag next to the door and took a seat on the couch. As usual she sat at the other end, facing me.

“So, Windflower… I said I’d try to help find your dad?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, I need some more information to do that. I need to ask you a few questions. Nothing hard. And once we’re done, I have a little surprise for you.”

That got her attention as her eyes went wide. “What is it?”

I lifted my legs. “Oh, now, I can’t say yet. That’s why it’s a surprise. We need to talk about your dad a little first. Okay?”

She nodded slowly.

“First, can you tell me what color he is?”

Her eyes drifted down to her foreleg. “He’s a blue unicorn, sort of like me, only a bit darker.” Her gaze returned to me. “His mane is green, a little like your eyes.”

“That’s great. And what’s his cutie mark?”

She raised a hoof to her chin. “This month, it’s three yellow stars.”

I tiled my head. “What do you mean by this month?”

“He says he gets bored with the same mark all the time, so he changes it.”

“He changes his cutie mark?” There aren’t many reasons to change your cutie mark with dye or magic. One is to trick someone into thinking you have a skill you don’t. That’s probably a prelude to fraud. The other would be to hide from somepony. Perhaps the law. So a fraudster or a criminal? Yeah, I was sort of jumping to conclusions, but I didn't like where this was going.

“How tall is your daddy?”

She hopped off the couch and walked to the middle of the room. “C’mere.” She pointed at the floor in front of her. I stood up and walked over. “Sit down.” I did so. Then she reared up and grabbed me in a big hug. I tensed a little, but held my position. I could feel her legs moving around behind my neck. After a few moments she dropped down and stepped back.

“You’re a little taller than he is, and thicker.” She nodded once for emphasis.

The light went on. That was brilliant. She couldn’t describe him with measurements or weight. But she knew what he felt like in a hug. And she could describe him in relative terms. I needed to remember this trick when dealing with kids... not that I ever planned to again.

So a little shorter than me. And I’m thicker? Okay, he’s a unicorn, and I’m an earth pony. I’d have a heavier build, so yeah, I’m thicker. We both went back to the couch and resumed our practiced positions.

“That was a very imaginative way to describe your dad. There may be a hint of detective in you too.” She smiled at that. “Now, how did you end up lost, in an alley, in the rain? Were you with your daddy when you got lost? What happened?”

“We were going home after dinner when three ponies stepped out and blocked our way. My daddy whispered to me to run. He’d taught me how to run away before. How to change directions, use corners, double back, stuff like that.”

What was this pony into that he took the time to teach his daughter escape and evasion techniques? Who teaches that stuff to a little filly? Was he expecting an attack? Or perhaps a foalnapping? Was the filly the target? What if she’d been the one foalnapped as an infant? What if he wasn’t actually her dad, and the other ponies were doing a recovery? So many questions. And most of them had associated bad implications.

“I started running as fast as I could. I heard one of them yell, ‘Get the filly!’.” She was starting to tear up. “I heard my daddy yell, ‘No!’. I looked back as I turned a corner and saw them fighting.” She was starting to tremble, and her ears went down. “I was so scared. I ran and ran. I got lost. I was tired and hungry. It started to rain, so I found a place to hide. I hoped my daddy would come find me.”

She was quiet for a bit with her head down. “Did I mess up? Am I gonna get yelled at?”

“Oh, no, not at all. You ran when your dad told you to. And it sounds like you also did just what he taught you to do. He would be so proud of you.”

She looked up at me. “Ya think so?”

“Absolutely. You did not mess up. You did it just right.” I reached out to her. “You wanna hug?” She flew at me, and I held on tight. I had no idea what I was doing, but it seemed to be working.

“If I did it right, why didn’t he come find me?” Her voice was muffled with her face in my neck. Her whole body trembled as I held her.

I tilted my head to rest atop hers. “I don’t know, kid.” I squeezed her just a little tighter.

I'm not sure how long we sat, but her trembling stopped, and her breathing slowed. After a while, she let go and sat up. She wiped her eyes and asked, “You said you had a surprise?”

“Yes, I do. And you’ve done such a great job with my really hard questions, that now is the time.” I walked to the door, grabbed my saddlebag, and pulled out the booklet. Her eyes went wide as she immediately recognized the picture on the cover. She knew exactly what it was. I have no idea how kids do it, but she flipped an emotional switch, and suddenly she was a totally different filly. 

She hopped off the couch and jumped up and down, powered by excitement and pure joy. “Can you read to me from the journal now, please? I want to hear about Windflower. Please, daddy, please?”

She froze, eyes wide. The next reaction was sudden and profound as she flipped another switch. She took several steps backwards, dropped her ears, squeezed her eyes shut, and lowered her head almost to the floor. She started to tremble. I winced inside. I knew exactly what this meant. Instantly I had a huge knot in the pit of my stomach. My entire relationship with this foal depended on the next few moments. I dropped the booklet on the table and took a couple steps closer to her.

“It’s okay, kid. I don’t know a foal who hasn’t accidentally called some grown-up mommy or daddy by mistake. For me it was in foal school. I was distracted with a hard art project involving glue and glitter and accidentally called my teacher mommy when I asked for help. She smiled and helped me as if nothing had happened.”

In a voice that could barely be called a whisper, she asked, “So, you’re not gonna yell at me?”

“Over something so silly, no, never. Does your dad yell at you?”

“No.”

“Your mom?”

She didn’t answer. I walked to the couch and sat down in the middle. I patted the cushion. “Why don’t you come sit next to me. It’s okay, you’re not in any trouble.” She opened her eyes, and after a moment walked over and hopped up. I put a leg around her and pulled her close. She was still trembling. “Can you tell me about your mom?”

“I lived with my mommy after my daddy left. I tried so hard to be good, but I’d mess up. Mommy would yell at me just like she used to yell at daddy. I’d promise to be better, but it was so hard.”

Thinking back to her reaction just now, I asked, “Did she ever hit you?”

There was a long pause. “Sometimes, when I messed up super bad. Later, she’d say she was sorry and sometimes take me out for ice cream. But it wasn’t worth it.”

I realized the deeper meaning to her earlier question about if she’d messed up. It took everything I had to maintain my composure. I was furious. How could anypony, especially a mother, yell or hit such a sweet little filly. There was somepony I wanted to yell at and hit right about now. I was a firm believer in never hitting a mare, but that clearly didn’t apply to this shrew.

I fought to keep my voice even. “So, what happened to your mommy?”

“I always got up before her, and she’d tell me to be quiet so she could sleep. I was doing really good that morning because she didn’t wake up. But it was after lunch time, and I was hungry, so I went in to ask when we could have lunch.” She paused for a moment. She was trembling more, and I could hear it in her voice. “She wouldn’t wake up. I tried and tried. I started yelling and shaking her. The stallion from next door came in. He took me out of her room. Later the police came, and they took me away.”

She stopped talking. I held her tight and stroked her mane with my other hoof. I’d wait, as long as it took. After a while she continued, “They made me wait at the police station for ages. They had some cop sit with me. She tried to be nice, but it didn’t help. I was scared, and no one would tell me anything. Finally, they took me to the lost pony home.”

“The lost pony home? What’s that?”

“You know, where kids who have lost their mommy and daddy go. Where they wait to be ‘dopted.”

I nodded. “Oh, I see.” I now understood her fear of the police.

“They tried to be nice, but I didn’t like it there. I was in a room with a filly who cried every night. After a few days, my daddy came and got me. He said mommy was gone, and I’d live with him now. I knew she was dead. He tried to hide it, but I knew.”

“I’m so sorry.” I hated that I had to ask the next question. “Does your daddy ever hit you?”

For the first time, she looked up at me. “No. Even when I mess up really bad. He makes me help him clean up. But he says I can learn from mistakes so I can do a better job at messing up in the future. Then he laughs.”

I blew out a breath. I felt a huge weight of dread lifted off me. Fortunately, it sounded like she had one parent who was loving and not abusive. And one concern I had was eliminated. The orphanage would not have released her if he wasn’t really her dad. Still, there were so many other questions about him that needed answers. Questions that really worried me.

She dropped her head again. “I loved my mommy, but I like being with my daddy more. I… I don’t cry all the time. Is liking my dad more a bad thing?”

“No, no, no. Absolutely not. I’m sure your mom loved you, she just couldn’t show it. It sounds like your dad can. Wanting to be with your dad doesn’t mean you don’t love your mom. It doesn’t make you a bad filly.”

I noticed she had stopped trembling as she leaned her head against my neck.

“Can you read to me now, please?”

“Perhaps, if you can use your magic to hand me the booklet off the table over there.” I pointed at it.

Her horn glowed, and the booklet floated up and flew across the room, then landed in my upturned hoof. I opened the booklet, and we looked at the illustration of the same painting we’d seen at the museum. I then cleared my throat and started reading...
> 3. This is Bad
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I opened my eyes. The room was darker than yesterday. The weather schedule called for clear skies today, so it was a lot earlier in the morning. One lousy day, and I was already setting the plan back. I got up and went into the bathroom. You’ve looked better there, Steel. I twisted my head around and sniffed. With a grimace, I decided that perhaps two showers this week would be in order.

I was feeling much better when I headed out to the kitchen. The smell of scrambled eggs and toast caused my belly to rumble. I was not used to food this early in the day, but my stomach was rather insistent.

I was greeted by a warm smile. “Hi.”

I returned the smile. “Hey, kid. Made breakfast again, I see. Sure smells good.”

“I like cooking. But you’re gonna need to get more food ‘cause we’re runnin’ out of everything.”

As I walked into the kitchen, I noted again how clean and neat it was. “I haven't been eating a lot of meals at home the last few weeks, so I haven’t kept things stocked up. We’ll pick up some stuff later today.”

She put a plate on the table, and I sat down to start eating.

“As soon as I’m done eating, I need to go out for a bit again.” I glanced at my plate with some amazement. “Wow, this is really good. Anyway, it won’t take long just like last time, but it’s important.” I shoveled in the food a bit too fast for polite company.

She sat down in the other chair. “Trying to find my daddy?”

“Yes. When I get back, that might be a good time to go shopping.”

Once we’d cleaned up, I headed out to the precinct. I went inside to the front desk and asked them to let Citrine know I was here. I stepped outside to wait. It was perhaps two minutes before she exited the building.

She nodded to me as she walked over. “Morning, Steel. You’re up early.”

I sighed rather dramatically. “Yeah. Having this filly in the apartment is messing with my… schedule. It’ll get back to normal once she’s gone. So, got anything?”

She shook her head. “Nope. There have been no missing filly reports in the last week. Whoever she belongs to hasn’t reported her missing yet. That might not be strange if she was older. But for this young, it’s concerning. Of course I’ll keep watching for something.”

I smirked. “Well, that’s a pain-in-the-flank. I was hoping somepony had reported her, and we could have had her home before lunch.”

She sounded hopeful as she asked, “Have you found out anything more?”

“Yes, a little.” I filled Citrine in on the information about the kid’s parents.

“That’s a lot of details from such a young filly.”

I nodded. “Yeah, she seems to be pretty sharp. Not a lot gets past her.”

“I think she’s sharper than you give her credit for.” She winked at me.

“Why do you say that?”

“Because we’re under surveillance right now. To your right.” She tilted her head in the direction.

I looked over and spotted Windflower hiding behind a bush, watching us. I turned towards her and waved a hoof for her to come closer. Like prey hoping the predator didn’t actually see her, she stood motionless. I raised my hoof again and waved her over. With ears and head down, she walked up to where we were standing.

I looked down my muzzle at her. “I thought I asked you to wait for me at home.”

She winced. “I wanted to see where you were going. Am I in trouble?”

“I wouldn’t say trouble... exactly.” I let that hang for a moment. I needed to make a point. “But if you want me to keep helping you, I need you to trust me and do what I ask. I’m being honest with you. I need you to do the same.” I lowered my head to face her. “Can you start doing that?”

“Uh-huh.” She nodded slowly.

I arched an eyebrow. “Really? Is that a promise?”

She looked up at me. “Yes, I promise.”

“Okay then.” I glanced over at Citrine to see her grinning at me. “What?”

“Looks like you got a way with foals there, Steel. I wouldn’t have thought you had it in you.”

I rolled my eyes. If she only knew just how far out in the wilderness I was with this filly.

The filly turned towards Citrine. “You’re a cop?”

“Yes, I am. My name’s Citrine.”

“It’s okay, kid. She’s one of the good cops, and a friend.”

“Are you a detective too?”

“Yes. Steel and I worked here together for some years.” She gestured towards the precinct. “Would you like to come in and see?”

Windflower’s eyes went wide, and she took several steps back. “No, no! I can’t go in there!” She turned towards me. “Please, I don’t want to go in there. Please don’t make me.”

Citrine stepped towards the filly and raised a hoof to reach out to her. The filly flinched and squeezed her eyes tightly shut. That reaction felt like a punch in the gut. Citrine backpedaled a couple steps and turned towards me, eyes wide in surprise. She clearly knew what that reaction meant.

As I stepped past her, I whispered, “The mom, there’s… history.” I sat down next to the filly and gently wrapped a leg around her. “It’s okay, kid. No one is going to hurt you. Miss Citrine didn’t realize she’d startle you.”

Citrine quickly added, “I’m sorry if I scared you, Windflower. I just thought you might like to see where we worked. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

I gave her a gentle squeeze. “Calm down. You don’t have to go in if you don’t want to. No one is going to make you.”

She opened her eyes filled with tears and looked at each of us.

“I think we should get going now, Citrine.” I gave her a subtle nod. “We’re going to do some shopping, then head back to the apartment.”

“Gotcha. It was nice meeting you, Windflower. And I’m sorry I scared you.”

Very softly, she replied, “It’s okay.”







We arrived at the apartment with four bags of groceries between us. We carried two bags each, slung over our withers like bargain basement saddlebags. Of course I carried all the heavy stuff. Windflower immediately started putting the food away, in all the wrong places of course. No matter. She could find it when she needed, and I’d figure it out. It was good to see her engaged in something. She was kind of tired when she finished, so I had her take a nap on the couch, tucking her in with the blanket.

When lunchtime arrived, I made myself a sandwich. As I ate, I read one of the two-bit crime novels I had an affinity for. I told myself I read them to laugh at how unrealistic the police and detectives acted. But in truth, I think I read them because, in the end, everything worked out. Real life wasn’t like that. But in the novels, they always caught the bad pony, the innocent pony was released, and the stallion got the mare. I hadn’t seen a lot of happy endings while I was on the force. It was nice to read about them, even if it was all make-believe.

My sandwich was gone when I heard the filly stir. She walked over to the table. “Hey, kid. You hungry? I can make you a cucumber sandwich if you want.” She nodded, so I whipped one together and pushed the plate towards an empty chair.

She hopped up and sat. “Thanks.” She looked a bit groggy, so I let her eat in peace as I continued reading.

Once lunch was over, we did the dishes together. We had developed a pattern of cleaning the kitchen after a meal. The routine seemed to be good for her. And she appeared more relaxed when focused on a task.

We were just finishing up when there was a knock at the door. I walked over and opened it. “Oh, hi, Citrine. Look, kid, it’s my detective friend.” Windflower turned and gave a tentative wave. “So, what brings you…” I knew that expression. This is bad. This is really bad.

She talked low and softly. “Steel, you need to come with me, right now.”

I turned around. “Kid, I need to go with Citrine for a bit. You remember what you promised me earlier?” She nodded. “Good. You can dig out the paper and crayons we got today and draw some pictures if you want. But stay here. You promise?”

“Yeah, I promise. Will you be gone long?”

I glanced at Citrine. She shook her head. “No, I don’t think it’ll be too long. I should be back... before dinner.” Citrine nodded a confirmation.

Once we were out on the street, I asked. “So, it’s bad, isn’t it?”

She sighed. “Yeah. I took the information you gave me this morning and did some digging. Steel, we found a body the other night. It’s like a perfect match to your description. We had no idea who he was.”

My heart sank. “No. This kid’s already had enough bad luck for a lifetime. She doesn’t deserve more. It’s just not fair.” I sighed heavily as my ears drooped.

We trotted in silence for a while. “Do you know how he died?”

“He was beaten to death. Broken ribs. Three fractured legs. The doc thinks head injuries were the actual cause of death.”

I sighed. “Everything points to him being involved in something really bad. It must have caught up with him. Just one thing that doesn’t add up.”

“What’s that?”

“The kid mentioned that the attackers said something about getting the filly. Why would they want this filly so bad that they’d beat the dad to death?” A shiver ran down my spine as I considered another possibility: no witnesses. I wondered, was the dad the target, or was he collateral damage from the true target?

My mind was awash in thoughts as I tried to piece together the clues I had. Nothing made sense. There was something missing from this puzzle, and until I found it…







The body lay on an exam table under a sheet. I hated this place. So many cases either started, or ended here. These rooms were death’s domain, and today was no exception.

Citrine stood at the head of the table. “Normally, we’d want the next of kin to come in to confirm the identification. But I don’t think...” Citrine lifted the sheet with her magic to expose his face.

“No!” I shouted. “You’re right. No way she should see this. Absolutely not!”

“Yeah, I know. She’s just too young to see her dad… And not like this.” She lowered the sheet again.

I moved to the other end of the table and flipped back the covering. “His cutie mark is wrong.” I desperately grasped for any thread of hope.

“Look closer.”

I leaned in, and I realized there were three faint stars superimposed over another cutie mark. I whispered, “This month…”

She stepped over next to me. “It’s not dye. The examiner says it’s some sort of illusion magic, and it’s fading fast. It’ll be totally gone in a few more hours.”

I flipped the sheet back down. “Did you find anything with the body?”

She pointed. “A saddlebag with some stuff in it. Over there on the table.”

We walked over. I froze. Light blue-green, red, violet. Whatever delusional doubts I'd fabricated were wiped away in an instant.

“Steel, what is it? I’ve never seen you so pale.”

I pointed. I don’t think she saw my hoof tremble, but I felt it. “That bracelet. Windflower has one just like it. She made two, and she said her dad always carried his with him.”

She sighed. “I guess that’s our confirmation, but we still don’t know what his name was. He had no identification on him.”

I slid the bracelet to the edge of the table. “I need this.”

“I’ll sign it out as being returned to next-of-kin.”

I looked at Citrine. “I don’t know what I’m going to say to her. How am I going to tell her?”

Citrine glanced down as she thought, then looked up again. “We could have the grief counselor pony come with you. I mean, officially, we should probably do the notification anyway.”

I closed my eyes. “No. She shouldn’t hear about this from a stranger. And certainly not from a cop. I need to do this.”

“I understand. Can you at least take a few minutes to talk with the counselor? She can give you some ideas on how to approach it with somepony so young.”







I stood outside the apartment for a long time. I repeatedly shook my head no. I had to do this, but I’d have given anything… Why does it have to be me? Telling adults they’ve lost someone is hard. I’ve never had to tell a kid before. The longer I waited, the harder it would be for me to do this.

I opened the door and walked in. She was sitting at the kitchen table drawing something. She looked up and smiled before returning to her work.

I removed the bracelet from my saddlebag, set it on the coffee table, then sat down on the couch. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as the adrenaline poured through my body. My breathing was fast and shallow. This was going to be the hardest thing I’ve ever done. It could destroy whatever trust I’d built with her. This was going to be a disaster.

I closed my eyes as I took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “Hey, kid, can you come over here for a minute?”

“Okay.” She hopped down from the chair and started over. As she got close, her eyes drifted to the table.

“That’s my daddy’s bracelet.” She glanced at me. “You did it. You found my daddy.” Then she froze.

I’m not sure what expression I had, but I imagine it reflected how I felt: hopeless. Words failed me. Everything the counselor had told me seemed pointless. I just stared at her.

“You… you did find my daddy, right?” 

“I’m sorry, kid. He’s not going to be able to come get you. I’m sure he wanted to, but he just... can’t.”

Her eyes got wide as she shook her head. “No, no, no…” She started to tremble. “No, no!” Her eyes flashed back and forth between me and the chair in the corner. She took a couple steps towards the chair, then spun towards me again.

Finally, she galloped to the couch and threw herself at me. I grabbed her and hung on tightly. She buried her face in my neck. “I don’t want to be lost. Please. Don’t make me be lost.” She started to cry, but not just that. She sobbed. Each sob racked her whole body as I held on. Then she began to wail.

Of course I’d heard ponies wail before when told a beloved mate was never coming home again. It was hard to witness as the pain from deep within them found a voice and escaped. But I’d never heard a young foal wail. It was different, raw and unrestrained. Her pain was like a physical assault. It tore at my very soul. 

I wept.

I don’t know how long I held her. But the emotional and physical drain began to show as she quieted down. After a while, I felt her body go limp. Asleep or unconscious, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that she was now free from the pain, if only for a short while. I carefully laid her down on the couch and put the blanket over her. I brushed the hair back from her eyes. How could someone so innocent have to face so much loss in such a short life?

I walked over to the table where various pictures were scattered. It appeared her artistic skill was consistent with her age. Her ponies looked like oddly shaped chairs with pillows atop the backrests. But the colors were accurate. Even the eye color when visible. That was enough to identify the subjects in her artwork. There were a couple of her and her dad. One was probably in the kitchen at their home. The other, walking through a park. There was a picture of her and I sitting on the couch, with me reading from the journal. I allowed myself a slight smile at the memory.

There was another picture face down on the table. I flipped it over. It showed her and her dad on the street surrounded by three other ponies. I didn’t understand. Then I noticed the light lines drawn down the page. Rain. This was her version of the night they were attacked. Her other pictures were accurate, so this one probably was too. In my hoof I held an eye-witness description of the three ponies that attacked them, showing their tribes and colors.

She slept straight through dinner time. When bedtime came, I walked over to the couch to check on her again. I adjusted the blanket and tucked it in all around her. It rose and fell to her gentle breathing. She looked so peaceful, but I knew it was only temporary. The pain would return in the morning. I could only hope it would be more merciful when it did. I left a light on so she wouldn’t wake up in the dark, and went to bed leaving my door wide open. I hoped that if she started to cry again, I would hear it and could get up to do… something. I don’t know. What do you do for a filly who’s lost everything? 







I must have been more tired than I realized, because the next thing I remember is opening my eyes to see the morning light through the window. I stretched, and my hoof hit something soft at the foot of the bed. I sat up. Curled in a ball under her blanket lay the filly quietly sleeping. I got up and headed to the kitchen to get something simple for breakfast. As I was eating, my eyes were drawn by movement. Windflower walked out of the bedroom with the blanket draped over her back and dragging on the floor behind her.

“I’m sorry,” she said, ears down.

I swallowed my current bite. “For what?”

She continued walking towards me. “I woke up. It was late, and I was all alone. I didn’t want to be alone. I didn't want to be lost. So I snuck into your room and slept on the bed.”

“I’ll tell you what. We’ll let it slide this one time, okay?” She nodded. “Good. So, do you feel like a little something to eat? I’m afraid I didn’t make anything, so it’s just cold oats and milk today.”

She climbed up on a chair. “I like oats and milk.” I’d already set out a second bowl and spoon, which she took. I poured her some oats and added milk.

She just sat, staring at her bowl. Very softly, she asked, “What’s going to happen to me now?”

I set my spoon down and leaned forward. “You mean without your daddy?” She closed her eyes tight. “I’m not sure. But I promise we will figure it out. Now… you must be hungry since you missed dinner. Go ahead and have some breakfast. You’ll feel better.”

I resumed eating. After a few moments, she levitated her spoon up to take a small bite. We ate in silence for a while. I could feel some awkwardness in the air, so I decided to try something.

“So, I have a plan for today, if you think you’re up for it.”

With a mouth full of oats, she asked, “Wath tha?”

“First, this picture you drew yesterday…” I tapped the face down drawing. “Are those the correct colors and everything for the three stallions?” She nodded. “Good. Then I want to start by dropping that off at the precinct. They need to find those three ponies.”

Her spoon full of oats and milk floated before her. “Your friend Citrine?” She took the bite.

“Yes, probably her and others.” I took another bite of oats and chewed. “Next, I want to find your school.”

She put down her spoon. “Why?”

“Because if we can find your school, they’ll have records.” I tapped the table for each point. “They’ll know your dad’s name. They’ll have your home address. They may have other useful information.”

“But how will we find my school?”

“We’ll visit each one you could attend in Canterlot until we find the right one.”

Using a voice that in a few years would be a well developed teenage whine, she complained, “But that’s going to be a lot of waaaalking.”

I nodded. “Yup. Being a detective is hard work. There’s no spell to solve a mystery. You start with a clue. You follow that clue until you find another one. Each clue leads you closer to an answer. It’s long, lots of work, and sometimes boring. But that’s what a detective does. And our clue today is that your school is somewhere in Canterlot.”

She tilted her head to the side. “So we’re going to go detectiving today, you and me?” I nodded. She smiled and picked up her spoon again. “Okay.”

That tiny smile was like a balm to my ragged emotions. This was good. If I can just keep her distracted. As long as we’re working together towards a goal, she won’t have time to think. Right now, thinking will only bring her pain, and I want to prevent any more of that, if I can.
> 4. Following the Clues
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

After dropping off the picture at the precinct, we walked to the nearest school on the list. She could tell from the building that it was wrong, so we headed towards the second school. As we walked down a street, I suddenly realized that she was gone. I spun around to find her looking at a window display outside some shop.

I sighed to myself. Probably spotted some toy she wants. I walked back to where she stood and realized it was a hat shop. The window on the left of the door was a display of mare hats. To the right of the door, where she stood, were stallion hats.

I moved next to her. “You want a hat? Your hats would be on the other side.”

Without looking at me, she replied, “Not me, you. You need that hat right there.” She pointed at a black felt fedora on display. I blinked a couple times as I tried to wrap my brain around this. She crossed in front of me and went through the door into the shop. I followed.

There were two employees on duty. A mare was working on a display while a stallion approached us. “May I help you today?”

I glanced at the filly. “Yes, uh, I think I’d like to see a hat. The fedora in the window?”

He smiled. “Ahh, yes, I know the one. It’s hoofmade and very high quality. It will last for years.” Using magic, he picked up a measuring tape from the counter. “With your permission…” I nodded, and he measured my head. “I’ll be back in just a moment.” He trotted off to a back room.

“Hey, kid, are you sure about this?”

“You’re a detective. You need a hat.” She sat down and crossed her legs over her chest. Even at this young age she was exhibiting the sense of fashion and confidence so typical of many mares. My fate was decided the moment she’d looked in that window.

The employee returned with the fedora floating before him. “May I?” I nodded, and he gently placed the hat on my head and adjusted the angle. “If you’d care to inspect yourself, sir.” He pointed at a full length mirror against a wall.

Windflower and I walked over. She nodded and declared, “He’ll take it.”

I looked at the employee and shrugged, “I guess I’ll take this one.”

“Very good, sir. An excellent choice. Would you like me to wrap it up, or will you wear it out of the store?”

Glancing at the filly, I replied, “I think I’m supposed to wear it. Thanks.”

A short time later, we neared the second school on the list. As we walked down the street, Windflower started to prance in excitement. “This is it! This is my school!”

We entered through the large heavy double doors and made our way down the main hallway. Our hooffalls echoed off the walls. One would probably go deaf in here when it was filled with foals chattering away between classes. I noticed a mare coming from the opposite direction.

She flashed us a large, inviting smile. “Hi. Enrolling a new student?”

I shook my head. “No, she’s already a student. This is Windflower.”

Her eyes went a little wide. “Windflower! Oh, I’m so sorry I didn’t recognize you. You’ve been absent for several days. Your teachers have been so worried about you. Where have you been?”

As her head dropped towards the floor, the filly quietly replied, “I’m lost.”

The mare tilted her head. “I don’t…” She then looked at me. “I’m sorry. I’m Principal Greenwood. I don’t believe we’ve met, at least I thought her dad was a unicorn...”

I nodded. “That’s correct. I’m Dark Steel--”

Windflower looked up at me. “He’s a detective.” The principal gave me a hopeful look.

I clarified, “Well, not with the Canterlot Police.” The hopeful look fell away.

Then the filly’s gaze shifted to the principal. “We’re looking for clues.”

I gently touched Windflower’s shoulder. “Miss Greenwood, can we please talk somewhere private?”

We left the filly under the care of one of the office mares and went into Principal Greenwood’s office. As she followed me in, she noted, “New hat, I see.”

I glanced back at her. “Yes, actually it is. How…?”

She grinned. “The tag is hanging out the back.”

I removed the fedora, snipped the tag with my teeth, and dropped it in the trash. “The kid had me buy it on the way here. It didn’t come off after I first tried it on.”

She nodded. “Windflower hasn’t been here long, but all her teachers agree that she can be a bit of a force to reckon with sometimes. Still, it is a nice hat. It suits you.”

Once we were safe behind the closed door, I went into some detail about the last few days and everything I’d learned.

“Oh, that poor little filly. She had such a hard time when she lost her mom. I know her dad is trying, but he wasn’t prepared for the instant responsibility and is so busy with work.” She shook her head and grabbed a tissue to dab at her eyes.

I gave her a moment to compose herself. “Do you know what her dad does for work?”

“No, I don’t. I just know he’s gone a lot, especially at night. Poor Windflower has had to grow up so fast and take on so many responsibilities she shouldn’t have to at this age.” Her eyes drifted to the office door behind which Windflower was waiting.

“How long has she been with her dad?”

Her attention snapped back to me. “Oh, not long. Less than three months. And now this. I don’t know…” She dabbed at her eyes again.

“I assume you have registration records, parents’ names, addresses, that sort of thing?”

“Oh, absolutely.” She went to a filing cabinet and in a few moments brought a file back to her desk. “Yes, it’s all here. His name is Shadow Justice. It also has their home address.”

“Can I please get a copy of that? I’ll need to pass that on to the Canterlot Police.”

She thought for a moment. “That’s a rather unusual request. But I guess given the circumstances, I can provide you with some of the information.”







Later, as Windflower and I walked down the street, I considered the new information. Shadow Justice didn’t sound like a pony who would be involved in anything illegal. But you can never tell. Names can be a mask that ponies hide behind, just like a fake cutie mark.

“So, your dad’s name is Shadow Justice.”

She grinned up at me. “Yes, that’s right. I remember that.”

I grumbled to myself, You remember it now, when you hear it. I wish you could have remembered it before when I asked.

“Where are we going now? Are we still looking for clues?”

“In a way, yes. I now know where you live, so that’s our next stop.”

“Two blocks, left, and two more blocks,” she added with a grin and confidently led the way.

It was another apartment building, and we went up to the second floor where they lived. When we got to the door, I noticed the latch was broken, and the wood on the doorframe splintered.

“Hey, kid. I want you to go down to the end of the hall and wait until I call you.”

“But, why? This is where we live.”

I turned to glare at her. One look at my expression, and she trotted down the hall without further comment. With her at a safe distance, I carefully nudged the door open. The room was a mess with belongings cast all over the floor. This place had been tossed by somepony looking for something.

“Hey, kid. Run down to the building manager and have them contact the police.” She stared at me. “Move!” She startled and then bolted down the stairs.

It was no longer my job to sweep a crime scene, so I sat in the doorway to keep an eye on things. The layout was pretty typical. The door opened into a large living area. At the far end was a small kitchen and a breakfast nook. A hallway to the left no doubt led to a bathroom and a couple bedrooms.

It didn’t look like they owned a lot of stuff, but what they had was dumped into a few piles around the room. It appeared that every drawer, every cupboard, and every closet was opened and emptied on the floor. This was a mess. I couldn’t see the kitchen due to the counter that divided it from the rest of the room, but I could see the living area just fine. Couch and chair cushions had been removed. Chairs had been flipped over. It was a thorough job.

As I sat there, my mind drifted back to the case. What was Shadow into that caused somepony to search the apartment? And how was the filly involved? I was now thankful she didn’t know where she lived. I winced at the thought of what might have happened if she had been found here by whoever did this.

Some time later, I heard somepony clear their throat. I turned and saw Windflower standing in the hallway with Citrine next to her. They were flanked by two more police ponies.

“How did you get this call, Citrine?”

She smiled and tilted her head at the filly. “It came in as a message from you.”

I glanced down at the filly and winked. “Smart.” She grinned back.

I moved out of the doorway as Citrine stepped up next to me and looked in. “I haven’t cleared it,” I cautioned.

“Right.” She nodded to the two officers and the three of them went in. Despite the clutter, there was plenty of open space on the floor, so it didn’t take long to check the main room, kitchen, and down the hallway. “It’s clear,” she declared as they returned. The officers took up positions, one just inside the door, the other in the hallway.

Citrine glanced at me. “Would you like to come in and check the place? You’ve always been a wizard at crime scenes, and you know enough to not disturb anything.”

I smiled. “I hoped you’d ask.” I looked down at Wildflower. “You wait here, kid. Okay?” She nodded.

I slowly walked through the main room as I looked around. I’d already checked it pretty well from the doorway, so I was mostly just looking at areas behind furniture I hadn’t been able to see. I spent some time in the kitchen and moved to the hallway. As I’d figured, there were two bedrooms and a bathroom, which I checked. I lingered in Wildflower’s room for a bit. She didn’t have much stuff, so the room didn’t look too bad. Her school saddlebags were dumped out in a corner with papers scattered about. The mattress was leaned up against the wall. And everything else was dumped in a pile in the middle of the room. I've seen teenage pony rooms that looked like more of a crime scene than this.

I made my way back to the main living area where Citrine was waiting. As I entered, she immediately asked, “So… what do you think? Any ideas?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I have a few thoughts. Nothing definite that’ll break the case, but they might help.” I poked the brim of my new fedora to tilt it back some. “First, I suspect there were multiple ponies here. The way things are piled suggests at least two ponies tossing stuff on the floor at the same time.” I pointed to a specific pile. “Notice how stuff from the kitchen is intermixed with items from that book case?”

She looked at the indicated pile for a moment. “Yeah, I see what you mean.”

“Next, notice the pictures on the walls?” I pointed at several close to the front door. “They’re disturbed, but not taken down and ripped open. So they weren’t looking for something thin, like paper or a photograph.”

I moved to the kitchen, and she followed. “Third, I think they were looking for something small.” I tilted my head to a counter covered in food. “You don’t empty the sugar bowl, or dump out the dry cereal if you’re looking for something the size of a hoof or larger.”

We moved out of the kitchen again. “Finally, I realize something you’re looking for is always in the last place you check. But they’ve checked everywhere. My guess is they didn’t find it, or they’d have stopped looking.”

I turned to look at Citrine. “No guarantees on any of that of course, but those are my thoughts after a quick walk through the place.” I noticed she had a slight grin on her face. “And what’s so amusing?”

Citrine lifted a hoof. “Nothing, nothing at all. It’s just so much fun to watch the wizard at work.”

Feeling a little self-conscious, I lowered my head a bit and looked at the floor. I was rescued from the awkwardness as Windflower came over.

“Miss Citrine? Can I get some stuff from my room? I don’t have anything.”

Citrine turned to face her. “Sure, honey. Just be careful to only touch what you need to.”

I added, “Your school saddlebags are in the corner, although everything was dumped out. Pack them up again. Your other saddlebags are hanging from a corner of the bed frame. Get whatever else you need and come right back.”

With a smile, she scampered down the hall to her bedroom as we watched. She let out a gasp when she saw the room, but after stomping a hoof with a harrumph, went in.

Citrine turned to face me. “So, how’d you find this place?”

I pulled out the information from the school. “We found her school. The principal gave me a copy of her registration information, which I am now, officially, passing on to the Canterlot Police.” I hoofed the paper to her.

“I gotta say, Steel, you haven’t lost your edge despite… I mean, you still got it.”

I didn’t react, but I knew what she meant. The filly emerged from her room with her two saddlebags. I reached out to take one of them. “Got everything you need?”

“Uh-huh.” She looked around the room and then up at me. “Why did they do this to our home?”

Citrine answered for me, “We don’t know, honey, but we’re going to try and find out. Why don’t you two go on now and let us get to work. Okay?”

The filly nodded and started for the door. As I followed, I called back, “Thanks, Citrine. Let me know if you discover anything.”
> 5. Mysteries Revealed
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

At this point the Canterlot Police took over all aspects of the investigation and asked that I stand down. That was fine with me. It wasn’t my job, and it was time to stop dragging the kid all over town. Although, there were still a few unanswered questions I spent time thinking about.

With no new clues to follow, we took the next couple days off. The filly’s moods swung from sitting next to me in tears, to wanting to go out for a walk or to the park. I don’t know the first thing about grief counseling for someone this young. I just hoped my being there to sit with her as she cried was enough. And there was always the nagging question, sometimes asked, sometimes just lingering in the air: what would become of her now?

One other thought that would occasionally invade my mind: what if I kept the filly? Of course it was ridiculous. They'd never pick a single out-of-work stallion, with zero experience with kids, as a guardian. Still, she was a cute kid, and we did seem to get along.

It was getting close to dinnertime, and the filly was sitting at the table doing homework. Principal Greenwood had collected the homework assignments for the time the filly had missed along with the next few days. She didn’t need much help, which was good because school was a lot of years ago for me.

There was a knock at the door, and the filly jumped down from the table. “I’ll get it.” She opened the door. “Miss Citrine. Hi!”

“Hi, Windflower. May I come in for a bit?” The filly stepped aside as Citrine entered. I stood up and walked over.

“So, you have news?”

“Yes, good news, actually. I’m here to take you both out to dinner. My treat. I can fill you in then.”

The filly looked at me. “Can we go? Please? I like Miss Citrine.”

“Me too, kid. She’s a good friend. Sure, get your stuff.”

The filly got her saddlebag, took out a few things, added the paper and crayons, and announced, “I’m ready.”

The three of us made our way to a small café just down the street. It was a small place that mostly did take-out which I often took advantage of after work. Well, I used to, anyway. There weren’t many tables inside, and we selected a quiet one in the back. Once we’d ordered dinner, Citrine got to it.

Looking at the filly, Citrine said, “So I figured out who your dad is.” The kid’s face brightened. Citrine glanced at me. “Once I got back to the precinct and mentioned the name, somepony remembered a bulletin from the castle about him. We contacted the castle, and in less than an hour I had two members of the Royal Guard sitting at my desk.” She turned back to the filly. “It turns out Shadow Justice is a member of the Royal Guard, the investigation division.”

“So, my daddy’s…” She tilted her head. “A cop?”

“Pretty much, yes. And a very special kind of cop that works directly for Princess Celestia.” The filly sat silent, mouth agape. Citrine looked back at me. “He occasionally did undercover work, which is why he’d mask his cutie mark. Sometimes he’d dye his coat and mane too.”

The Royal Guard? Working undercover? I tried to make sense of this. It was as if I had been trying to assemble a jigsaw puzzle of clues using the picture from the wrong box. Nothing worked. I now had a new box, and a picture started to emerge. But this picture wasn’t complete yet. There were still a few pieces missing.

Citrine continued, “They wouldn't tell me anything about his current case. And they’ll be launching their own investigation into his… into this. They ask for copies of all my notes. Steel, those include everything I’ve gotten from you too.”

I shook my head. “That’s not a problem. They can come talk to me if they want more details.”

Citrine smiled. “That’s what I told ‘em.” She turned to the filly. “They were very concerned about you. I told them you were with a friend of mine that I used to work with, and that you were safe and doing okay.” Citrine looked at me. “I explained that any disruption right now could be harmful and should be avoided. I emphasized that Windflower is safe and being cared for. They agreed that leaving her with you was the right plan for now, until a long-term plan is developed.”

I glanced down at the filly. “See, kid, looks like you’re stuck with me for a while longer.”

She touched a hoof to her chin for a moment. “I don’t mind.”

Citrine glanced back at the filly. “I also found out that your daddy asked if he could switch jobs. He didn’t like how much he was away from home. He wanted a new job that would let him be home with you so you weren’t alone so much.”

“My daddy wanted to be with me?”

“Yes, he did. And he was going to do whatever it took to make that happen. He loved you very much.”

The filly’s eyes started to fill with tears. “But where will I live now, without my daddy?”

Citrine smiled. “I have news about that too. Do you know you have an aunt and uncle?”

The filly looked a little sad. “I guess. My daddy said we’d go visit them when school was out. But I don’t know them.”

Citrine reached across the table to hold the kid’s hoof. “Don’t be sad. Yesterday I went to visit your aunt and uncle in Ponyville. Your aunt is Ruby Breeze, and she’s your dad’s sister. Your uncle is Rusty Moon. They were very sad to hear about your dad, but wanted to know all about how you were doing.”

“They know about me?”

“Yes, honey, they know all about you. And they want you to come live with them.” While the filly absorbed that, Citrine turned to me. “It turns out that Shadow had designated them as guardians for Windflower. The news of Shadow’s…” her eyes flicked to Windflower for a second, “passing hit them really hard, especially Ruby. But their first questions were about Windflower even before asking for details about her dad. They have no foals of their own and were thrilled at the idea of having Windflower live with them. The castle provided me with paperwork which they signed during my visit. Everything will be official in a couple of days, and you can take her to Ponyville.”

The filly looked up at me. “So, I won’t be lost?”

“No kid, you aren’t lost. You’ll have a family that’ll take care of you and love you.” I was relieved she had somepony to care for her. Still, there was a tiny part of me that was... disappointed.

“Will I get ‘dopted?”

“Probably not right away. Adoption would mean your aunt and uncle would be your new parents. You’d be their new daughter. It’s something you and your new family will have to talk about one day.”

Our food came, and the filly stayed very quiet as she slowly ate her dinner. She had a lot to absorb.

Between bites, I asked, “So, Citrine, what else is going on at the precinct?”

She closed her eyes and shook her head. “You’ve heard about the museum burglary?” I nodded. “That one is really kicking our flanks. We have no clues at all, just a list of the items stolen. Lots of rare stuff, some of it quite valuable. I’ve got pictures of a few of them...” Citrine pulled a small stack of photos from her saddlebag and set them on the table. I didn’t look at them because Windflower began to use magic to flip them over one by one.

“The most significant is some Stone of Invisibility.  It’s a small oval pearl white stone. The secret of its use is lost, but it’s considered the most val... “ She turned towards the filly. “Windflower, what’s wrong?”

I looked over at her. She’d stopped eating. Her head was down, and her hooves rested on her legs. Windflower pivoted to face me. “Please, don’t be mad.”

I glanced at Citrine and back. “Mad at what?”

“I… I may have messed up again. Please don’t be mad at me.”

“Come on, kid, how many days have we been together? Have I ever been mad at you? Even once?” She shook her head. “Right. So I won’t be mad at you now. But remember your promise. You need to tell me, tell us what’s going on.”

She opened her saddleback and levitated a pearl white flat oval stone and sat it on the currently visible photo. It was the same as the picture, although the actual stone softly glowed with magic.

Citrine’s eyes went wide as I’m sure mine did too. “That’s the Stone of Invisibility! Windflower. Where did you get this?”

“They dropped it.”

“Who dropped it?” she asked.

“The three ponies dropped it as they…” She sat bolt upright and looked at me. “I just remembered. It’s the same three ponies that attacked me and daddy before the storm.”

Citrine lifted her hooves in total surrender and looked at me, shaking her head. All she could get out was, “What…?”

I held up a hoof at Citrine. “Okay, kid, look, you’ve just dropped a huge clue on the table. We need to follow this clue. So you need to very carefully tell us all about it. Do you understand?” She nodded. “Can you do that?” She nodded again. “Okay, start at the beginning and tell us about the ponies that dropped this.”

She placed a hoof on the stone and gently rocked it back and forth. “I was comin’ home late from a special program at school. It was almost dark. As I walked, the three ponies ran by. They dropped something as they ran. I called out, but they didn’t stop. As they turned the corner, they looked back at me. They were gone before I could call again.” She looked up a Citrine.

“I walked up to see what they dropped, and found the stone. So I took it home. It’s really special.” Her gaze shifted to me. “It sings to me.”

“Sings to you?” I shook my head. “I don’t understand. What do you mean?”

She picked up the stone, holding it in both hooves. "It sings. You can’t hear it, but... but I feel it in my horn. I decided to sing back to it.” She closed her eyes as her horn glowed. In a moment, there was a small flash, and she was gone.

Citrine jumped up. “Windflower!”

“Kid, where’d you go?” I reached out with a hoof and felt it hit something soft. She giggled. “Okay, please stop that now.” There was another small flash, and she reappeared. She set the stone back on the table.

Citrine sat down again as she whispered, “The Stone of Invisibility. After hundreds of years, and lots of really smart ponies working on it, you figured it out?” She picked it up and closed her eyes. “I can’t hear anything. How did you know what to do?” She sat the stone down again.

“I just sang back to it. As long as I sing, no one can see me.” She smiled. “I walked outside once, went up and down the street, and no one knew I was there.”

“So, that’s why they searched your apartment. They were trying to find that stone.” I looked at Citrine. “If we assume they watched the neighborhood until they spotted her and her dad, how did they know where she lived?”

“I have an idea,” she replied. “There may have been more in Shadow’s saddlebag than we found. Perhaps some ID, or even just a letter with the address on it. They took everything that would tell us who he was, but left the rest so we wouldn’t realize anything was missing.”

I looked back at the filly. “Why didn’t they find the stone?”

“Under my bed, there’s a loose floorboard. I hide special treasures under it. It was still there when I got my stuff the other day.”

I pointed at the stone. “Please put that back in your saddlebag.” She levitated it off the table and into her bag. “You realize you have to give that back to the museum, right? It’s not yours. It was stolen.”

She nodded. “Yeah. Am I in trouble?” The question sounded almost automatic, but there was a certain lightness to her tone, as if she suspected the answer.

I put a hoof on her back. “No! Absolutely not! The museum will be so glad to get this back. You’ll be a hero for saving it.” I gave her a gentle shake.

Her eyes brightened up. “You think so?”

I patted her hoof. “I know they’ll be happy to have it back. But I bet they’ll be even happier when you show them how to sing to it.”







Later, as we walked back from dinner, it occurred to me that it had actually been a pleasant evening. As much as I hated to admit it, there was a certain family feel between the three of us. I snorted and shook my head. Such thoughts, such feelings were just not for me.

Glancing at me, Citrine asked, “Is something wrong, Steel?”

Feeling just a bit like a suspect under interrogation, I simply replied, “No, just clearing my head.”

Suddenly, an earth pony stallion stepped out of an alley just ahead. He walked towards us, blocking our path. We stopped. Windflower whispered to me, “That’s one of the bad ponies.”

Citrine added, “There’s one to the left too.” I glanced across the street to see a pegasus standing at the mouth of an alley, watching us.

I then looked over my shoulder to see the third pony, a unicorn, closing from behind. I growled at myself. See, that’s what thinking about stuff does. It distracts you from what’s important. And now we’re in a bind.

Citrine and I had extensive training for situations like this. Years on the streets had refined those skills greatly. Blowing through any of the three ponies would have been no problem, except for the little filly cowering between us.

I softly whispered to Citrine, “We need to draw them in as close as we can. If you can keep that unicorn’s magic off me, I can take the other two.” The slightest nod of her head as she turned to face the unicorn told me she understood. I looked down at Windflower. “You need to stay behind us. If I tell you to run, you do just like your dad taught you. I will find you again.”

The earth pony spoke, “We just want the stone. Let’s not make this difficult.”

Keeping my voice neutral, I responded, “What stone would that be?”

“You know exactly what stone it is.” He pointed at the filly. “I saw her put it in her saddlebag. It’s ours, and we want it back! Now!”

Holy scat! They’ve been watching us? How in the Tartarus did they do that? How long have they been watching? And how did I miss it? I never would have made that mistake a couple months ago. I was absolutely furious with myself.

I replied, “I don’t think we’re going to be able to do that.” It was hard keeping the turmoil in my head out of my voice.

“Look,” he said, “it’s three against one--”

“Two,” Citrine interjected.

All three ponies snorted. This was advantageous. They were completely discounting the magic pony who was an alternate instructor for the street defense class. They had no clue what she was capable of. I’m not sure I knew what she could do if cornered. Add in the instinct to protect a filly... Celestia have mercy, because Citrine won't.

“What’s say we keep your pretty little mare out of this. Just give us the stone before this gets ugly.”

I sneered at him. “I’m afraid it’s too late for you to avoid that ugly part.” I needed him angry. Angry meant stupid, and stupid meant mistakes.

“Oh, I’m gonna enjoy beating you half to death.” His eyes grew narrow as he gritted his teeth. “Perhaps more than half…”

I trusted Citrine to handle the unicorn. But how to deal with my two. Take out the weaker one to even the odds, or take out the biggest threat first? I decided on the pegasus. If he flew over me, he could reach the filly. He might even be able to carry her away. I had to remove him from the equation first.

We slowly backed away from them towards the storefront behind us.  They still had us trapped since we couldn’t escape with the filly. But they could no longer surround us or attack from behind. It was a defensive position Citrine and I could work with. They foolishly continued to advance. Citrine faced the unicorn. I stood at her rump, facing the other two. Citrine’s tail would occasionally flick me in the side. Without looking, she knew right where I was standing. Windflower stood in the pocket between us and the wall. Come on… Closer… Closer… Just a bit more…

I didn’t see who fired first, but out of the corner of my eye, I saw the explosion of magic. The two unicorns had engaged. The pegasus lifted his wings and bent his knees. He was a split second from launching himself into the air.

I jumped forward, spun, and bucked as hard as I could. My aim was true. I hit the base of his wing. The snap of bone echoed in the street. He screamed in pain as the wing flopped down to his side. He collapsed to the ground. One down.

I twisted around to face the earth pony. Fortunately, he missed his shot while I was distracted with his partner. He was as big as I was, perhaps a bit bigger. His eyes flicked to his companion taken out with a single buck. He locked eyes with me. There was a shift in his stance as he prepared his opening move. I noticed him subtly twist a rear hoof. That would be his first buck. Whatever it connected with would break. I needed it to not be me.

Suddenly there was a small flash of magic from beside me. His eyes shifted, and he hissed, “Where…” I snatched the split-second advantage. I shifted my weight and kicked his front leg. The knee buckled, and the leg folded backwards. His front half collapsed, a look of shock on his face. A second kick landed square on his forehead. He saw it coming, but there was nothing he could do. He went down, unconscious. I adjusted and prepared to buck him again. Just to make sure he stayed down, perhaps permanently. As I turned, I realized that Windflower was still here, somewhere, and probably watching me. I instantly decided. She would not see me attack a downed pony. I dropped my leg.

“Citrine?” I called out.

“I’m good,” she replied.

I turned to see the unicorn attacker down, with Citrine already putting on hoof restraints. The entire fight, if you could call it that, had lasted just a few moments.

I spun back around. “Hey, kid, where are you?”

There was a flash by the alley the earth pony had come out of, and I saw the filly’s head peeking around the corner. I took a step forward. She bolted from the alley and galloped to me. She grabbed my neck in a tight hug, which I returned. She was scared, but I noticed she was not trembling. It had only been a few days, and already there was growth. She was stronger.

Her voice was muffled by my mane hanging over her. “I was scared, and just wanted to hide. Then I remembered, I could hide, just like before.”

I released the hug, and she stepped back. “Where’s the stone? You’re not holding it? How could you hide without the stone?”

With a slight grin she explained, “I don’t have to hold it, it just needs to be close. I could feel it in my saddlebag, so I sang to it.” She paused for a moment. “D’I do okay?”

I gave her a big smile. “You did perfect. You were scared, but you came up with a plan to escape. And that distraction was just what I needed to win my fight.” I reached out to stroke her head. “I’m very proud of you, kid.” Her head leaned into my hoof. 

I heard the approach of a galloping pony. Turning to look, I saw it was a beat cop drawn by the commotion. Citrine trotted out to meet him, pulling her badge out of her saddlebag. “Detective Citrine. We need help to get these three suspects medical attention and then to a nice cold cell.”

He saluted. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Oh, and leave me your hoof restraints.” He hoofed them to Citrine, then took off at a gallop.

She walked over to the two ponies and looked back and forth between them a couple of times. “Wow. I’m not sure either of them are going anywhere, even if they were conscious.” She decided to cuff the pegasus since he still had four working legs. “Steel, when you drop a suspect, they stay down.”

I surveyed the aftermath. The unicorn was unconscious. His horn had a crack in it and was throwing off very small magic sparks. I hadn’t seen the exchange, but he clearly paid the price for underestimating Citrine. I looked at the pegasus moaning on the ground. A good doctor should be able to fix the break, but if there’s enough damage he may never fly again. And the earth pony will no doubt have a limp for the rest of his life. Of course, none of them will have much use of their magical traits where they’re going.

I shook my head. They deserved so much worse for what they’d done. I wanted to… But no, that wasn’t for me to dish out. I’d done my job. Well, it wasn’t exactly my job any more. But I’d done my part, and I’d let Canterlot justice take over from here.

“Hey, kid, come with me.” I led her across the street and sat down, blocking her view of the scene. “I’m sorry, but I think we’re gonna be stuck here for a while. You can break out your paper and crayons if you want.” She sat down, opened her saddlebag and pulled out her drawing pad and crayons. She ran a hoof over the pad to smooth out the top sheet, and just sort of froze staring at it.

I reached out and straightened her mane. “Hey, kid…” She looked up at me. “You were very brave and did great. Your dad would be so proud of you.” She smiled, picked up a crayon, and started drawing.
> 6. Little Filly Found
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The filly had hardly said a word since we boarded the train in Canterlot. Despite having plenty of space on the bench, she sat right next to me, leaning against my shoulder. Most foals, and even some adults, would have their muzzle pressed against the window, transfixed as the world whished by outside. She sat with glazed, unseeing eyes, staring forward. Normally, if I just gave her some time, she’d volunteer what was bothering her. That wasn’t working today.

I gave her the slightest little nudge with my shoulder. “Hey, kid, you okay?”

Snapped out of her daze, she looked up at me. I’d seen that expression before. She was moments from tears. “Are you scared?”

She softly whispered, “What if they don’t want me?”

I wrapped a leg around her and hugged. “Of course they want you. Don’t you remember what Citrine said? About how excited they were to have you come? They absolutely want you.”

Then, even softer, she asked, “What if I mess up?”

I shrugged. “You will. Everypony does. But what did your dad teach you about that?”

Her eyes drifted towards the ceiling as she thought. “To help clean up and to learn from it?”

I gave her another squeeze. “Exactly. And he was right. Yes, you’ll mess up. But they’ll love you anyway. Just remember what your dad taught you.”

Letting her go, I reached into my saddlebag and pulled out a wrapped present. “Here, kid. I was saving this for later. But I think now, while it’s quiet, would be better than after we get to Ponyville.” I held it out to her.

“For me?”

“Well, unless you see some other filly here.” I lifted it up and made a show of looking around. “Any other fillies here expecting a present?”

“No, no. It’s for me. You said it was mine.” She reached up with both legs. I lowered my hoof and gave it to her.

I expected the typical foalish rip-tear-shred as she attacked the package. But not this filly. This filly carefully unwrapped it from the back to reveal the contents. Even now, she was still surprising me.

Her eyes went wide as she looked up at me. “This is Windflower’s journal.”

“Well, not exactly her journal.” I smiled. “It’s one of the nice reproductions they sell. Since you share her name, I thought you should have your very own copy of her journal.”

She stood up on her hind legs and attacked me with a hug. “Oh, thank you. Thank you.”

I closed my eyes as I returned her embrace. It had been a gut-wrenching week, and it was good to see things turning around for her. After a few moments, I let go and she sat back down. She opened the front cover. “You wrote something? I’m not so good with hoofwriting. Can you read it to me. Please.”

I cleared my throat. “Windflower, never forget the past, as it points to your future. Your friend, Dark Steel.”

She hugged it tight to her chest with both legs. “Will my new parents read it to me?”

I stroked her mane. “I’m sure they will. And it won’t be long until you can read it yourself. Perhaps by the end of this school year.” I glanced out the window. “We’re almost to Ponyville. Why don’t you put that in your saddlebag and get ready?”

She carefully folded up the wrapping paper and put it and the journal into her saddlebag.

Once the train stopped at the station, we made our way to the exit. Few ponies disembarked, and there were even fewer waiting to get on the train. The conductor loaded the filly’s stuff onto a cart. It was just a suitcase and a couple boxes of things she’d kept from her dad’s apartment. Once that was done, I scanned the platform and spotted Ruby and Rusty waiting at the far end. Their ears twitched and tails flicked. He was nervously pawing at the ground. She was frozen in place, watching us.

“There they are, kid.” I tilted my head in their direction. She stared at them. “Don’t worry, I’ll be right here with you.” We started walking. She clung to my side, a half pace back trying to hide behind my saddlebag.

“Good morning. I’m Dark Steel.” I held out a hoof, which Rusty shook.

“Mr Steel. It’s so good to meet you. Detective Citrine told us all about everything you did to help Windflower. We are forever indebted to you.”

From behind my saddlebag, the filly softly spoke up, “He’s a detective. That means he follows clues. It’s hard work. He’s the best detective in the whole world.”

Ruby took a step to the side so she had a better view of the filly. “I’m sure he is. Windflower--”

“He’s my friend.”

Ruby smiled. “Of that I have no doubt. And from what I’ve heard, he’s been a really good friend.”

The filly looked down and adjusted the position of the friendship bracelet she still wore on her leg.

Ruby continued. “And I must say, it’s so nice to see you again. You’ve grown so much.”

The filly moved a half-step away from me to better see Ruby. “You’ve seen me before? I don’t remember you.”

“Oh yes. Rusty and I were in Canterlot when you were born. We both got to hold you. We were there again for your first birthday. We gave you a small plush doll of Princess Celestia.”

She perked up. “That was from you? I still have that.” She looked over her shoulder at the cart with her things. “It’s in the box with the other toys from my room.”

“I’m so glad you liked it. I’m sorry we never got back to see you again.”

Rusty took a step closer to me, talking softly, “Once Shadow and that mule of a mare…” He glanced at the filly. “Once she left with Windflower, we were never invited back. We saw Shadow several times for holidays and such, but never our niece. It was really hard on Ruby.”

Rusty then moved next to his wife. “So, Mr Steel, you’ve got a couple hours until the next train for Canterlot. How about we all go get a bite to eat? On the way, we can drop Windflowers stuff at the house. That will also give you a chance to see it and her room.”

The filly looked up at me. “You’ll come with us, right?”

“Sure, kid.”







I sighed heavily as I trudged down the hallway. It has been a long day going to Ponyville and back. I was exhausted. I opened the door to my apartment and went inside. I had the distinct feeling that something was wrong. I quickly searched the room with my eyes. It wasn’t that something was wrong, it was that something was missing.

My gaze settled on the kitchen table where she’d spent so much of her time drawing. The pictures were a kind of therapy for her. They allowed her to express emotions and feelings she just didn’t have the words for. So many pictures that I had to buy her a second box of crayons.

I noticed there was a picture left behind on the table. I walked over and spun it around so I could see. It was one of her original pictures showing the filly and I on the couch reading from the journal. Kid, you really aren’t very good at this drawing thing, are you? Still, despite the blobs hardly being recognizable as ponies, the emotion came through. This one whispered of safety, and… a sense of peace. Those first couple days, that was probably as good as it got.

I walked over to the couch and dropped my saddlebag. The fatigue threatened to overwhelm me as I plopped down. I closed my eyes and put my head back. If I allowed myself, I’d be asleep in minutes. I took off my fedora and tossed it on the coffee table.

“The best detective in the whole world.” I thought about her statement most of the way home on the train. It wasn’t true, of course. Still, I had played the part, and I had accomplished something. Something… important. It hadn't been about catching the bad guys, even though we did. It wasn’t about recovering the stolen artifacts, even though we’d done that too. It was about helping a little filly, lost and alone. I thought my dream of helping ponies was dead when I got fired, but perhaps that wasn’t true after all. Perhaps the dream was still alive, and now able to grow, free from the restrictions and bureaucracy that is the Canterlot Police Department.

I leaned forward and flipped open my saddlebag. Reaching in, I extracted my copy of the form I’d filled out and submitted on my way home from the train station. The top read: New Business Application. I skimmed down a few lines to the one labeled ‘Name of Business’. On the blank line I’d written: Discrete Discovery Private Investigators.

I allowed the form to slide from my hoof, gliding down to the couch beside me. It was a new start. A chance to follow my dream without anypony or anything blocking my way. It absolutely scared me to death. I glanced at the form beside me. But the die was cast. I wasn’t going to turn back now.

I stood up, headed into the bedroom, and sat on the edge of the bed. It was early, but I think getting some sleep would be a really good idea. I have a lot to do tomorrow. I need to find a cheap office to rent, get an ad in the Canterlot paper, and talk to Citrine about throwing any business my way when ponies needed help beyond what the police could provide. It will be a busy day.

I took in a deep breath and blew it out. That’s all for tomorrow. Right now, I need to… My gaze landed on the bedside table. Light blue-green, red, and violet. She’d left me the twin to her friendship bracelet. I picked it up. As I looked at it, my vision got blurry. I wiped my eyes with a leg.
> 7. Epilogue
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hey, Steel,

I know we got all caught up a few weeks ago when you were here for my graduation, but I received some news I just couldn’t wait to share.

I got the letter! I’m officially accepted into the Criminal Justice program at my first choice college in Manehattan. I leave in a couple months. Graduation will guarantee me entrance to the police academy.

My parents are excited for me. But I can also see a little sadness in their eyes. The time has gone by so fast. I’m going to miss them, and all my friends here in Ponyville.

This has been my dream since I got my cutie mark. I’m one step closer to becoming the second best detective in the whole world. You’d better watch your back!

Please say hi to Citrine for me.

Always your friend,
Windflower.

“Good for you, kid. I know you got this.”

I folded the letter and laid it on my bedside table. I set the beaded bracelet on top.


-- The End --