//------------------------------// // The Griffon's Omen // Story: Rhythm and Rhyme // by MyHobby //------------------------------// Chrysalis II ducked her head as she trotted aboard the Stella. Griffons bustled about, lugging odds and ends from one end of the airship to the next. A few gave her passing glances, but quickly resumed their activity. If she focused, she could taste the nerves in the air. These creatures were not happy in the slightest. Their routine had been upset. Their plans modified. Mostly, she supposed, because of her. “Commander Bugly?” The changeling at her side turned his scarred face her way. “My Lady?” “Stay outside.” Chrysalis nibbled her lower lip. She scratched a thin line in the chitin with the edge of her fang. “In plain sight of the Equestrian Royal Guard. If something happens, I want Celestia to know about it.” “As you wish, My Lady.” Commander Bugly’s one good eye looked up at her, calm and cool. Familiar and comforting. “Are you sure you’ll be alright on your own?” Chrysalis brushed a lock of her silky pink mane behind an ear. “Andean means me no harm.” Bugly scowled, an expression that cracked the hardened plates on his battered face. “Then who does he mean harm?” “That’s what I wanna find out.” Chrysalis’ hole-spotted hooves carried her through the airship’s envelope. Canvas was supported by a sprawling, cylindrical metal skeleton. Gasbags the size of a two-story building served to keep the vessel aloft. Two walkways, made from silvery mesh, went from fore to aft. She headed towards the front of the ship, where Andean Ursagryph had asked to meet with her. A shock ran down her spine at a sound like thunder crashing. A cheer rose from a cluster of griffons standing in her way, all facing the front of the aircraft. She lifted her head above the sea of feathers, squinting her eyes to bring the source of the noise into focus. King Andean Ursagryph held a weapon to his shoulder. It was long and thin, like a beam of cedar. The end crooked to form both a handle and a rest for Andean’s arm. He peered down the length of the rod, pointing it towards a ragged target some twenty-five meters away. He flipped a lever on the bottom of the weapon, clicked it back into place, and jerked a talon back. The report was nearly deafening. Chrysalis laid her ears against her head and winced. A cloud of smoke stung her nose, almost as much as the rush of excitement from the griffons around her. “Another red mark, Your Grace,” a charcoal-feathered griffon said. “Five in a row. Your skills are improving.” “Nowhere near yours, Captain Barbary.” Andean lowered the weapon and handed it firmly to the griffon. “But… I can’t ignore the smoking target.” He brushed black dust from his feathery beard. His eyes lit up at the sight of her. “Queen Chrysalis the Second. You’re just in time.” His expression momentarily darkened as he spoke to the griffons around him. “Leave us.” The griffons flew off in a flurry of wingbeats and loose feathers. Too soon, the small platform at the prow held only him and her, a griffon and a changeling. She averted her eyes from his overbearing—practically hulking—form, drawing it to whatever else could catch her attention. The glint of metal won out, and she found herself examining the weapon Barbary had left on a nearby rack. “I see the latest volleygun model has captured your imagination.” Andean moved past her to take it in his oversized talons. He held it with the fire-spewing tip pointed away from her, towards the target. “The battle with Hurricane—and the subsequent defense of the Saddle Arabian border—revealed several oversights with the design.” “I, ah…” Chrysalis fought against the urge to cough, putting some strength into her voice. She concentrated and confirmed what she’d expected: No malice from Ursagryph, just curiosity, earnestness, and… something faint, near the edge of her senses. A quiet strength. An assurance. It tasted like sugar. “I’m unfamiliar with the volleygun, I’m afraid.” Andean smiled, like a child about to describe a favorite toy. “It’s a simple mechanism, really. Spark powder is ignited, and the resulting explosion propels a metal ball with enough force to cross the space of a hundred meters in fractions of a second.” Chrysalis swallowed. “With the intent to do harm.” “As it is with all weapons.” Andean brought the volleygun to his eye, aiming it downrange. “As a ruler, via coup no less, I suspect you’re familiar with such instruments of destruction.” The sugary sensation turned sour in her antennae. Whether the change hailed from Andean’s mood or her own was more than she could say. “I’ve never handled anything more complex than a spear.” “I’ve heard it said that changelings prefer a more physical combat style.” He pulled the lever down, and a small cylinder of metal flew from the side of the volleygun. “Perhaps it’s time to widen your experience. Care to take a shot?” Chrysalis blinked. That curiosity, a savory core surrounded by salt, peaked, indicating that his was indeed piqued. If she allowed herself to admit it, there was something intriguing about the device. “Even the most vile things can be put to good use.” Andean pulled identical cylinders from a pouch hanging from his side. He slid them in, one by one, raising an eyebrow. “I find target practice to be unequivocally cathartic.” Now there were a couple of ten-bit words. “Unec—I’m sorry, I don’t…” “Soothing.” He held the gun out to her, his voice gentle, yet insistent. “The vollygun holds four shots. Look down the barrel, and strike the target.” One look in his eyes said she wasn’t leaving the ship until she did so. She nodded, taking the weapon carefully in her forelegs. Her hooves tingled, like it might explode right out of her grip. Two sets of grooves sat along the length’ when lined up, they pointed towards where the ball would go. She steadied her forelegs and sought out the target. It was a hay bale, covered in cloth and painted with a red circle. Several holes already dotted the surface. “Pull the lever down to ready the firing mechanism.” Andean’s massive head drew alongside hers, his ears turned away from the weapon. “May I ask how long you’ve ruled the changelings?” “F-five years.” Chrysalis II pulled a lever along the side until it clicked. Something inside the weapon unlatched, unlocking other moving parts. “I… That’s how long my mother’s been dead.” “Slain by your own hooves, so I hear. Is that accurate?” Chrysalis gave the griffon king a sidelong glance. He watched the volleygun with his sharp eye, but she felt his attention directly on her words. “Y-yes. I killed her.” “Matricide is no light matter.” Andean Ursagryph raised his talon at the target. “Pull the trigger along the bottom. Yes, that’s the one. Be prepared for some—” The volleygun leaped back to strike Chrysalis right in the snout. Her ears rang with the aftereffects of the small, controlled explosion. She would have swore, if she knew any swear words. As it was, she silently cursed every authority she could think of. Her forelegs shook as she handed the weapon back to the king. “I—I don’t think I like volleyguns.” “I wouldn’t be discouraged.” King Andean’s beak tilted upward as he hid a grin. “The same thing happened to Corona the first time she fired one.” “Your eldest?” Chrysalis rubbed her nose and blinked at the target. She’d hit it, somewhere near the bottom, far from the red dot. “Sh—she’s very lovely.” “Thank you. I’m sure she’d be glad to hear it.” Andean clutched the weapon tight and stretched out a wing. He tapped his talons against the metallic device as his brow furrowed. “I wonder if I might ask you a few questions.” “I figured that’s what the meeting was about.” Chrysalis shrugged, letting her transparent wings fold across her back. “And you wouldn’t be the first to have them.” She lifted a perforated hoof, letting her gaze slide through the largest hole in her shin. The chitin was especially hard around it. “Ask your questions.” Andean’s grip tightened around the weapon. “May I ask why you slew your mother?” Chrysalis almost gave him a double-take. She was hard pressed to keep her expression neutral, especially with her ears still ringing. Her heart stuttered as she spoke softly. “Her plans to overthrow Celestia led to nothing but trouble for Changelings. Between the wedding attack, the kidnappings, the attempted infiltration, she left us with nothing but enemies. She was leading us to extinction. I had to do something.” Andean was quiet for a moment. He moved his beak slightly, as if chewing over her words. “I believe you. I believe you are telling the truth.” He turned his head to the side to look her directly in the eye. “But I also believe that the truth can be deceiving. Certain things can be omitted. That is a rather practiced response for such an intense action.” Her mouth went dry. “I don’t know what else to tell you, Your Grace.” “Then let me refine the question.” He pumped the lever several times until all the little cylinders were removed from the volleygun. “Why did you, in that critical moment, choose to end the life of Chrysalis the First?” Something bubbled up in Chrysalis II’s chest. Something hot and dark and hissing. “I don’t have to answer that.” “No, you don’t.” Andean set the volleygun back on the rack. “But I’d advise you to do so.” He sat before her, folded his wings against his back, and clasped his talons. “Equestria is not the only country in this world, Queen Chrysalis the Second. Many other peoples and races rule various countries the world over. The zebras of Girrafrica. The minotaurs of Beefland. The donkeys of Lightning Gale. The list goes on. The ponies are not the only creatures that have fallen afoul of the changelings.” Chrysalis’ wings vibrated as his voice deepened, grew quieter. The sugar was completely replaced by a dour spice, bitter and heavy. “You will have to expand you scope beyond Celestia,” Andean said. “And if you wish to have my aid, I would very much like to know the person with whom I am allied. Do not be taken in by Celestia’s comforting tone. She will speak of liberty while chaining your country to hers. Trade will be through Equestria. Currency will be Equestrian. Your changelings will lose all sense of who they are… all in the name of becoming who Celestia wants you to be.” Chrysalis II laid her ears across her head. She bowed at the neck with a heaving sigh. “I’d rather that than what we have now.” “You needn’t settle for second-class citizenship.” Andean leaned forward, looming over her with a sharp glare in his eye. She felt a spice enter his words, flavoring them with energy and conviction. “You must be a nation of your own, not a lesser Equestria—” “With all due respect, Your Grace,” Chrysalis said, “the changelings have nothing of worth to bring to the table. We need help just to stand to our feet.” Andean closed his mouth. His breath was quiet as he waited for her to continue. “We’re not a world power entering the arena.” Chrysalis swallowed hard. She felt the plates on her neck contract, scraping together as she shook her head. “We’re dogs licking up scraps at the master’s table.” Chrysalis stood up and spread her wings. She bent a regal knee. “I should probably go. I don’t think we have much to talk about.” “If you truly believe you have nothing to offer…” Andean stood as well, utterly dwarfing her with his brown-coated body. “Then that is what you shall produce.” Chrysalis II blinked, fighting the sting of tears behind her pink-tinged eyes. She nodded, muttered what she hoped was a respectful farewell, and turned to leave. “Chrysalis.” She paused on the walkway. She turned an ear, but couldn’t bring herself to look at him. A weight fell over her heart, emanating from Andean Ursagryph’s. His voice was strong, but there were cracks between the seams. Brittleness within the strength. “There is a saying.” Andean picked up the volleygun and cradled it in his arms. “An old one that says: The Creator helps those who help themselves. However…” Chrysalis sucked on her lips. She swished her tail, more to fidget than to swat the fly on her hind leg. Andean loaded the weapon with a round and turned to face the target. “I believe we were meant to help each other.” The crack of the volleygun rattled her nerves once more. She sped off, ducking around any griffons who didn’t get out of her way in time. She entered the open air with a sigh of relief. “My Queen?” Bugly snapped his head towards her. “Did it go well?” Chrysalis II stared straight ahead, her chest heaving. She licked her lips and set off at an unsteady trot. “My Queen, are you well?” Bugly furrowed his brow. His coarse voice crackled as his short legs pounded to keep up. “Your heart is—” “I have no idea what I’m doing.” Chrysalis glanced back at him, wiping her eyes with the side of her hoof. “I just… I don’t know.” He placed a hoof on her shoulder. “You know that whatever you do, we shall follow you to the end.” She looked her commander in his one good eye. Her blood ran cold. “That’s what I’m afraid of.” *** Spike sighed as he walked into the Ponyville train station. He rubbed his eyes and tried to let it sink in. Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo both. Kidnapped. Button bloodied. It was surreal. Fire lit beneath his palms as he rubbed them together, begging him to do something. Something beyond just getting help. Something beyond— He slapped himself in the face. Apple Bloom! Was she alright? Did she even know? Was she also wrapped up in this cockamamie plot? “Howdy, Spike!” He peeked through his fingers and spied the red-head herself. “Speak of the Unseelie…” The whistle of an approaching train drowned out his response. She held a hoof over her ear, rolled her eyes, and galloped towards him. She slowed as she neared, her eyes losing a bit of their usual green luster. “What’s up, Spike? Y’ look like your best friend died.” He craned his neck to give her a kiss on the nose, receiving the desired blush in response. “I’ll tell you in a bit. Stick around. Right now I’ve got a couple people to meet.” “You and me both,” she said. She walked alongside him with a bounce in her step, a smile tugging at her lips. “Applejack’s greeting the Princesses from Felaccia before they head over to Twi’s castle. Should be here in a couple minutes.” “Yeah, I heard.” Spike rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m here to meet their escort. There’s a mission I’m helping with.” Apple Bloom raised an eyebrow. “Is it a cool mission?” “Um.” Spike’s heart felt like it was going to crack. “I’ll tell you about it later. Like, right after we meet them.” “Suit yourself.” Apple Bloom furrowed her brow as her big sister came into view. “Big” being a relative term, since Apple Bloom was much, much taller than her. “It’s her last year as mayor, you know.” “Right.” Spike offered up a half-convincing grin. “We weren’t even old enough to vote when she was elected. She gonna run for a second term?” “Heck no.” Apple Bloom brushed her mane behind her neck. The chuff of the engine heralded the appearance of the train itself, rattling down from Canter Mountain. “The dang mayorship’s been drivin’ her crazy. Drivin’ me crazy, too. I just want it done with, Spike.” Apple Bloom tilted her head so that her cheek touched the tip of his crest. “You know… So’s I can move out. Get away from the farm. Be my own mare. Live a little. Can’t do that when I gotta pick up Applejack’s slack.” “Harsh way to put it.” “I’m feelin’ a little harsh lately. Dunno why.” She smirked down at him. “Got too old to blame it on teenage rebellion anymore.” “Geezer,” Spike said out of reflex. It came out as a hiss, barely rising above the rattle on the tracks. Apple Bloom frowned. “You don’t seem yourself. Is it that bad?” “Worse.” His clawtips drummed on the wood floorboards. “Not the time or the place for it, though.” “Gotcha.” Apple Bloom gave him a quick squeeze and trotted over to Applejack’s side. The mayor looked tired. Dead tired. She gave Spike a grimace that was just this side of friendly. Spike returned his in kind. She probably heard about the kidnapping before he did. Well… not counting the apparently prophetic dream Flurry had. That was unexpected. What the hay was he supposed to do about that? Did Cadence know? Shining? Did Flurry even realize what that sort of thing meant? “World just got complicated again.” Spike sat on a bench near the rear of the station platform. He didn’t exactly slide into the background so much as merely stood out a little less among the ponies. The train’s breaks squealed as it clattered in. Steam hovered overhead, like a cloud made by a sleep-deprived Rainbow Dash; too low and too big. He snorted. Rainbow always brought her own little bit of pizazz to the forecast, one way or the other. The doors opened, and the passengers disembarked. The grand majority were ponies of every size, color, shape, and tribe. A few donkeys trotted to and fro, but the sea of multicolored coats overwhelmed their presence completely. Save for two unique individuals. Princess Stella shot out of the doors, leaving her luggage far behind. “Ohmygosh! Ponyville, Ponyville, Ponyville!” Corona tugged her rolling suitcase with one talon while the other tried to grab her younger sister. “Stella! Carry your own bags!” A pegasus stallion in full royal guard armor followed behind them. His coat was enchanted white by the armor—part of the uniform, Spike recalled. Only the higher ranking individuals kept their coat and mane colors when armored, to better pick them out of a crowd. His chestplate had the crest of the Cloudsdale airforce: A wing unfurled for flight. Spike studied the stallion’s face. The chiseled chin was familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it. It wasn’t one of the guards from around Canterlot Castle, and definitely not somepony stationed in the Crystal Empire. The pony spoke, however, and it all became clear. “Hold on, dudes. Um. Princesses. Let’s keep together until we get to the castle.” A grin split Spike’s face. The weight on his heart lifted ever so slightly. He rose from his seat and waddled forward on his hind legs. “Rumble?” Rumble’s head jerked towards Spike. His mouth dipped open into a quickly growing smile. “Spike! How are you, dude? Feels like it’s been ages!” The feathers on Stella’s head flared out. Her eyes grew as wide as they could possibly go. She squealed deep in the back of her throat, clutching her talons together. Spike gave her a sidelong glance. “You okay, Princess St—?” “Ohmygosh it’s Spike!” she shouted, loud enough for the entire platform to hear. “Hero of the Crystal Empire! I’ve waited my whole life to meet you!” Corona hid her blush by pushing her sister down with a palm. “Yeah, Stella. All ten years of it.” “It’s true!” Stella hopped on her hind legs, spreading her wings with tiny flaps. “Can I hug you?” Spike glanced at Rumble, who shrugged. “I don’t know if that’s proper…” “I’m gonna hug you anyway!” Stella shot forward and squeezed Spike around the middle. Her tiny forelegs only went halfway around his chest. Applejack tipped her hat to the griffon princesses, flashing them a smile that almost looked sincere. “Howdy do, Princess Corona, Princess Stella. It’s my honor to welcome you to the fine city of Ponyville.” Corona curtseyed, leaving Stella to cling to Spike’s chest. “It is an honor to be welcomed to such a wonderful place, Your Lordship. I am glad we can finally meet under better circumstances.” “For the most part,” Applejack muttered. Still with the synthetic smile plastered to her face, she spoke in a louder voice. “Does me a world of good to see critters who love Ponyville so much. I’m sure you’re gonna have a heck of a vacation.” Applejack stepped to the side to let the looming form of Apple Bloom step forward. “I’m proud to introduce this here little sister of mine. Apple Bloom, this is Princess Corona and Stella of Felaccia.” “Ohmygosh!” Stella detached herself from Spike and hovered in midair. “The leader of the Cutie Mark Crusaders!” Apple Bloom blinked. “You heard of me?” “Sheesha—” Corona coughed. “Sorry. Father read Princess Twilight’s Friendship Reports to us as bedtime stories.” “I still read them,” Stella said, puffing her chest out. “They are fun stories that also teach a good moral to help me be a better person.” Apple Bloom gave Spike a glance, one framed by a tiny smile. “Go figure.” Spike shook his head, scratching the scarred scales on his chest. He turned to Rumble, baring his teeth with a lopsided grin. “You’re moving up in the world. Guarding princesses now?” “Just on the train ride over.” Rumble folded his wings across his back. The armor’s magical shield shimmered with orange light. “Commander Skyhook’s taking over with Twilight’s personal guards. I’m here for something else.” Spike saw Rumble’s eyes change. They grew hard, cold, determined. Spike flicked a loose scale onto the ground. “So, you know?” Rumble nodded, his smile gone. “I’m here for Scootaloo.” Apple Bloom rolled her eyes, patting Stella on the head. “Don’t tell me you’re finally ready to propose?” Applejack bustled her way into Apple Bloom’s side, taking Corona’s suitcase from her. “Why don’t you help me bring the princesses to Twilight’s castle, Apple Bloom? The guards are waiting right outside the depot, so no worries about you keeping put, Rumble.” Her teeth ground together. “I know you got a lot to talk about.” Apple Bloom sighed. “Am I really the last one to know about everything?” Corona shrugged. “Join the club, ma’am.” “Just ‘Apple Bloom’ is fine.” Apple Bloom hoisted both their carrying cases onto her back with nary an ounce of effort. “You owe me an explanation, Spike. See y’all later.” The four of them, two ponies and two griffons, departed, leaving Spike and Rumble on a mostly empty platform. The few stragglers kept to themselves, checking luggage or greeting loved ones. “Figures it’d take something like this to finally bring me home.” Rumble sighed, glancing around the train station with something between nostalgia and apprehension. “Gonna take a day or two to see my brother and his wife. Meet my new nieces. After that…” He set his lantern jaw, curling the corners of his mouth down. “I’m gonna find her, Spike. I’m gonna bring her home, too.” “I’ll be right there with you, buddy.” Spike put his hand on Rumble’s armored shoulder and gripped it—gently enough to not bend the metal. “This is one adventure I’m not sitting out.” Spike lowered his eyebrows. “Gotta say, though. When Celestia said she was sending help, I expected somebody a little higher up the command chain.” “What?” Rumble shook off the cobwebs and let a little light return to his eyes. “I’m not good enough for you anymore?” “You weren’t the first to come to mind, no.” Spike crossed his forearms over his chest. “But if you’re good enough to protect foreign princesses all on your own—” “Dude, really?” Rumble put a hoof to his chest. “You really think I was alone? Come on.” He pointed to the bench Spike had moved from. A pony read a newspaper, obscuring their face. They folded the paper and laid it on their lap, bringing an orange coat and green mane into view. She wore a red checkered jacket, open at the front. Rumble spread a wing in the classical pegasus salutation. “Allow me to present the kicker of butts, the queen of mean, Captain—” “Care?” Spike lowered himself to all fours and skittered over. He couldn’t help the bright smile on his face. He didn’t dare hold it back. Care Carrot slid off the bench and reached up to wrap her forelegs around his neck. She laughed as he gently returned the embrace. “Been a while, Spike. Great to see you.” Rumble frowned, lowering his wing with a grunt. “Or we could just introduce each other. No big. Not like that was gonna be the highlight of my day or anything. I’ll just sit here while you two hug and stuff. No prob—” “Rumble,” Care said, looking over Spike’s shoulder, “shut up.” “Yes, ma’am.” Spike took a step away. The filmy ears at the sides of his head flared out as his tail swished behind him. “Gosh, guys. It’s just… It’s so great to see you again. I just wish it was for a different reason.” “You and me both.” Care slid the paper into her saddlebags. She gave Rumble a quick once-over, pressing her lips together. “You should probably lose the armor if we’re headed for the hospital. Don’t wanna draw extra attention.” Rumble flapped a wing as he walked past Spike on his way to the rest room. “She’s the boss.” “And while he’s making himself presentable—” Care sat on the bench and patted the seat beside her. “—you can tell me what’s been going on with you.” “Making a nuisance of myself.” The bench’s boards creaked as Spike lay his back against it. “Helping Twilight with her studies. Keeping the library up-to-date. Journeying to alternate worlds for memorial services.” She gave him a double-take. “That one’s a long story.” He brought his arms up and over, resting his head in his palms. “Overall, it’s been pretty great. I’ve gotten a lot more comfortable with myself since—since…” Care touched a hoof to his knee. “Since you saved my life.” Spike tilted his head. He frowned at the mare, furrowing his brow something fierce. “Well—” “I just call it like it is.” She gave him a pat and a smile. “Since you saved my life.” “Call it what you like.” Spike turned his eyes to the sky, blowing a smoke ring from his mouth. “So what’s your side of the story? Adventure, excitement, danger?” “Pretty much.” Care squinted one eye. Her horn lit up with pink magic that intensified to pure white. A tiny ball of fire sprang forth, shooting right through Spike’s smoke ring before vanishing into haze. “I helped out with the defense of the Saddle Arabian border. Spent some time with my folks. Went looking for the dead body of a deposed tyrant in the badlands.” Spike snorted. “I suppose that’s your long story?” “Not really.” Care fished the newspaper out of her bag and passed it to Spike. The front page image depicted a group of changelings standing before Canterlot Castle gates. “Looks like Queen Chrysalis’ daughter got uppity a few years ago. Killed her mom and took the throne. I was verifying that particular story.” “I’ve heard.” Spike took the page gingerly, simply trying not to tear the page apart. The changeling queen stood front and center, staring up at the wall, her eyes strange even through the grainy photo. “Shiny and Cadence are going nuts. They even sent their kids here until the whole thing gets sorted out.” Care brushed her mane behind her ears. A scrunchy found its way around it and made a ponytail. “Stella was excited about the new playmates.” “Ha. Twilight’s gonna have a full house.” Spike found himself rubbing the scar on his chest. He forced himself to stop, laying the hand on his lap. “I’m almost glad I’m going on an adventure, with that kinda powder keg ready to blow.” “Well, if we gotta be part of an international ponyhunt…” Care gripped his hands between her hooves. “I’m glad I’m on it with you.” Spike smiled as her pink eyes met his green. “The feeling’s likewise.” Rumble—his coat back to its natural gray—leaned on his shoulder. The sudden weight nearly knocked Spike off the bench. “Get a room, you two,” Rumble said with a grin that begged to be punched in the face. “You’re being indecent.” “Hay, knock it off!” Spike laughed as he stood, brushing Rumble from his shoulder. “I’m taken, anyhow. Wouldn’t look right in the tabloids if I was hugging around.” One of Care’s ears tilted downward as the opposing eyebrow raised. She scowled at Rumble. “You’re gonna make me regret bringing you along, aren’t you?” “It’s my very purpose in life, Captain.” Rumble bowed at the neck. His saddlebags clanked with collapsed armor pieces. Care stood up and straightened her jacket. She gave Spike an expectant smile. “So, Spike, I think it’s time you lead us to your witness.” Spike cracked his knuckles. “Follow me.” *** Button Mash tapped away at his DoubleJoy Boy. The system was getting a little old, what with the TripleJoy Boy having released the previous year, but the system had a lot of good games. The pony onscreen swung away with its sword, chopping bits and pieces off of the boss’ life bar. His mother had brought it to him earlier that day. She had stepped out to get to work, but would be back that evening. She was probably gonna sleep in the hospital, just to make sure he was okay. She hadn’t taken the news well. How dare those meanies hurt her baby? How dare they ruin his special night like that? His dad had been pretty shaken up, too. Didn’t say much. Just trembling lips beneath that silly fake moustache of his. Patted him on the shoulder, muttered “get well soon,” and shuffled off to his job. Mom sure didn’t marry him for his conversation skills. It was the first time he’d seen them cry so hard since his older brother moved away. The hydra onscreen squealed as one of the heads dissolved into pixels. Just before the fireball from the left head vaporized his character. He got the old familiar game over screen, asking him whether he wanted to retry or quit. “Retry what?” He let the DoubleJoy Boy flop to his chest, beside the bandages. The steady rhythm of the heart monitor was quiet, but present. The drip of the ambrosia into his bloodstream was more noticeable. It was like having heartburn pumped directly into his guts. Miracle medicine it may be, but that didn’t make it pleasant. A soft knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts. He gingerly touched the bandage over his right cheek. “Come in.” Spike eased himself inside. “Hay, Button. Got a couple visitors for you, if you’re ready for them.” “Why not?” Button closed the clamshell design of his handheld system. He set it on the bedside table next to the foam cup of water. “Let’s go ahead and relive last night again.” The next person to step through the door was almost unrecognizable at first. As Button’s brain booted up further, things started coming together. The strong legs, the chiseled chin, the ever-present smirk… “Rumble? Is that really you?” “’Sup, dude?” Rumble took a chair at the foot of the bed, looping a foreleg over the back. “Heard you were in a bad spot.” “That’s an understatement.” Button Mash rested his head against the pillow. There was really nowhere else for it to go. “So you’re the major help Spike was talking about?” “Kinda not really no.” Rumble cleared his throat and extended a wing towards the door. “Introducing the kicker of butts, the—” “Shut up, Rumble.” A mare nodded to Spike as she stepped into the room. Spike closed the door behind her and pulled out a pad of paper. A feather pen formed from a breath of flame. He held the utensils in his hands, ready to take notes. She pushed a seat beside the bed and lowered her eyebrows. “Button Mash, I am Captain Care Carrot of the Equestrian Royal Guard. I’m here to speak with you about the assault and kidnapping you were witness to.” Spike’s pen scritch, scritch, scritched across the page, recording her words. Button Mash rubbed his sore chest. He tried to picture it in his mind; the three stallions. The screaming. The painful blows. The deep cuts. “Th—I brought Sweetie Belle home after supper. I thought she was alright. I saw three guys walking through the street, and I thought they were a little shady-looking, so I stuck around. One of them…” He winced as the painful crash rolled through his memory. “One of them knocked down Sweetie’s door.” He paused to take a sip. Care took the opportunity to interject. “Can you describe them?” “There was a big one. Blue coat, orange mane. E—earth pony, I think. His cutie mark was an oven or something. He broke down the door. There was a smaller guy. Pegasus. Weird moppy-looking blue mane. I thought it was weird that he was wearing sunglasses at night.” Button chewed on his lower lip. “They called their boss ‘Caballeron.’” Rumble sat up and tilted his head. “Wha—?” Spike shushed him. “H-he was older than them. Maybe in his fifties? Scruffy beard. Tan shirt. White hat. Black and gray mane. Cutie mark of a gold skull.” Button’s eyes flicked to Rumble. “I’m not making that part up, by the way.” Rumble leaned forward, resting his forelegs on the chair’s arm rests. “You know what that sounds like, right?” “Yes. Yes! Yes, I know!” Button threw a hoof up, looking to the ceiling. “I know it sounds crazy! But—” “Calm down.” Care’s voice was sharp. “Keep going.” Button Mash wiped his mouth with the side of his hoof. He figured he should show basic manners, so he turned his face to her. “They knocked Scootaloo out and dragged her off. The big guy just picked Sweetie up and carried her. The leader stabbed me and left me bleeding. And that’s all I remember.” Care bobbed her head. Her ponytail fell over her shoulder. “Anything you want to add? Anything at all?” “No.” Button Mash closed his eyes and stretched his back muscles a bit. “No, that’s all I got.” “It’s a start.” Care stood up and motioned to Rumble. “Come on. We’ve got enough to get started.” Rumble grimaced. “I don’t get to visit?” “You can visit tomorrow.” Care Carrot tugged Spike’s tail towards the door. “I wanna get some work in tonight. The sooner we get to it, the better chance we have of finding them.” Spike blew a breath on the page. It burst into enchanted green flame before vanishing in a puff of smoke. “Care’s got a point. They’re relying on us.” Rumble glanced at Button, then nodded. “Yeah. Better get moving. See you tomorrow, Button. You still gonna be here?” Button Mash touched the IV snaking from his foreleg. “Soon as the dose of ambrosia is administered, they’re sending me home. They say I’ll heal better in my own bed.” Spike looked over his shoulder. “You going home, home, or to your parents’ house?” “My house.” Button Mash tried to smile and failed. “Take care, guys.” Captain Carrot winked. “It’s not like I was going anywhere else.” Rumble groaned. “She’s been spending too much time with me. We need to move.” Button Mash felt his heart sink as they left through the door. Just before Spike’s tail disappeared, he said “Give Caballeron my best, Spike.” Spike halted with his hand on the handle. He gritted his teeth, swallowing hard. “Will do, Button.” *** Flurry Heart stared at the griffon princesses, and the griffon princesses stared back. There was a deep, intense silence in the throne room of Twilight’s castle. Flurry’s two siblings stood to either side, also rooted to the spot. “Well.” Applejack cleared her throat. She gave Twilight Sparkle a reassuring smile and backed away from the scene. “Well you kids have fun now, y’hear? Enjoy Ponyville and the like! Have a good one! See you later! Bye-b—” “Applejack,” Twilight said, “a word?” “Sure, Twi.” Applejack joined Twilight as they walked towards Twilight’s laboratory—the one that was strictly off-limits without adult supervision. That left Flurry, her siblings, and the griffons alone in the room with Twilight Velvet. Stella glanced from face to face, her grin growing. She leaned close to her sister and spoke in a voice slightly less than shouting. “This is so awesome.” Silver stepped forward first, apparently trying to exhibit the same kind of bravery as his father. “My name’s Silver Lance. What’s yours?” “My name’s Stella Ursagryph!” The griffon chick jumped forward and thrust out a talon. “Princess of Felaccia! My father’s name is Andean Ursagryph. I have the same name even though I’m just a regular griffon and not an ursagryph, which is like a griffon except that instead of lion butts, my father has a really big bear butt!” Corona sighed. “You shouldn’t talk about father like—” She grabbed Corona’s wing and stretched it out, much to her sister’s dismay. “And this is my big sister Corona, who has red feathers in her wings because she’s part phoenix!” Corona tugged her wing safely away. “I am not part phoenix. Phoenixes are birds.” “And we know all about you!” Stella’s eyes grew wide as she turned her head to the side so that one eye could look directly into Silver’s. “We know all your names, and your life-stories, because we study you relentlessly!” “Incredible,” Flurry heard Grandma Velvet say. “An icebreaker that actually makes things more awkward.” Twilight Amore took a ginger step forward. She squinted at the griffons like they were a scientific curiosity. “You know everything about us, huh?” “Yep!” Stella said with a chirp. “Prove it.” Amore smirked. “What’s my favorite color?” Stella blinked. She hemmed and hawed as she clicked her beak. “Purple?” “Drat!” Amore clomped her hooves together. “How did she know?” “She guessed,” Corona said. Flurry Heart looked hard at the elder sister. Her eyes darted around, like she was looking for something. Or someone. Someone dangerous. “It’s very nice to meet you.” Silver Lance glanced at Grandma Velvet, his eyebrows raised. “May we show the princesses to the playroom?” “I don’t see why not.” Grandma Velvet smiled as she gripped the suitcases in a bubble of magic. “Now, why don’t—” “Excuse me!” Twilight Sparkle ran back in, with Lord Mayor Applejack trailing behind. Twilight puffed her chest out and raised a regal hoof. “Sorry for the haphazard greeting, Your Highnesses, but I assure you it is truly my greatest honor to welcome you at last to Ponyville. I am holding a formal dinner tonight especially for you kids—” “Great,” Silver said, his ears falling, “that means I have to wear a suit.” Stella snickered. “Ahem!” Twilight gave Silver a princess-level stink-eye. “A formal dinner tonight for you kids to get to know the family.” Stella leaped up, hovering with fluttering wings. “Will Spike be there? Ooh, he’s so cool!” Flurry Heart suppressed a laugh. She’d never seen anybody get that excited over Spike. Maybe the princesses were cooler than they let on at first. “Of course.” Twilight smiled. “I look forward to getting to know you both over the next few weeks. And, I hope you enjoy learning more about Equestria.” “Careful,” Twilight Amore said. “Aunt Twilight said the magic word: Learning. Every time she says it, textbooks appear out of thin air.” Twilight Sparkle’s smile cracked at the edges. “Why don’t you kids go to the playroom? I’m sure there’s plenty of fun, educational activities there.” She waved as an evil little glint appeared in her eye. “Have fun strengthening the ties between our nations!” Corona shut her beak with a decisive snap. “No pressure, huh?” Flurry Heart ventured a friendly sort of smile as Corona drew near. “At least nobody starts wars over dinnertime.” Corona froze, the hair on her back standing on end. Tension entered every muscle Flurry could see. Flurry licked her lips. “Or do they? I don’t know much about that kinda thing.” “There’ve, um…” Corona smoothed down her fur with deliberate brushes of her talons. “There’ve been ups and downs, where that’s concerned.” Flurry and Corona shuffled their feet, both looking at the ground. Corona raised her talon and pointed down the hall. “So… that way?” “Yeah.” Silver Lance trotted forth, Stella close by his side. “The playroom is down the hall, to the left, up the elevator three floors, two lefts and a right, then right through the door.” Corona lowered her ears. “I’ll get more used to navigating this place as we go, right?” “Nope!” Twilight Amore flapped overhead. “I’ve been coming here since I was little, and I still get lost!” Corona’s wings drooped. “Thank you, Princess Amore, that’s very reassuring.” Flurry bumped her wing’s joint against Corona’s. “Just do what I do: Follow Lance. He’s, like, got a built-in map or something. He always seems to know where he is.” Flurry’s ear twitched as she caught a snippet of Aunt Twilight’s voice. “Keep me posted on the investigation, Applejack.” “Will do, Twi. They’ll find those girls b’fore you know it. They gotta.” She choked back a sob. She tried to run her soft wings across her face before Corona could see, but the princess was already looking right at her. “Are you…” Corona’s beak moved silently as she tried to find the right words. “Do you need help?” “I dunno.” Flurry rubbed the base of her horn, fighting off a faint buzz. She’d felt it since that evening. It’d probably wear off by tomorrow. It usually did. “You ever… Have you ever been in a situation where you wanna help, but you don’t really know how you can?” Corona wrinkled her face, sniffing through her beak. “Story of my life.” She leaned close and lowered her voice, speaking right into Flurry’s ear. “You heard about Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo?” Flurry nodded. “I had a dream about it last night. Evil ponies came and took them away.” “Yeah?” Corona frowned, glancing at Grandma Velvet. When she saw the mare was more focused on the younger children, she continued. “I think the changelings might have had something to do with it.” Flurry’s heart went cold. A chill ran down her spine, straight to her dock. “Wh—why do you say that?” “Because the changelings came to Canterlot right before the kidnapping.” Corona shook her head. “It’s too close to be a coincidence.” Flurry fluffed her feather. “But you came just after the changelings, too. And that’s a coincidence.” “Is it?” Corona rubbed her foreleg as she walked. “After everything that’s happened, I’m not so sure anymore.” They continued quietly, listening to Stella gush about everything around her, and Silver Lance doing his best to explain it. After a long moment, Flurry whispered, “The changelings have always been scary. They almost stopped my mom and dad from getting married. They did… a lot of other horrible things.” She turned to Corona with as big a smile as she could manage. “But not all of them are bad.” Corona shrugged. “How do you know these aren’t the bad ones?” “I don’t.” Flurry stopped as they reached the playroom door. Silver reached for the handle with his magic, while Stella babbled on and on. Corona took her suitcase from Grandma Velvet. She tapped her talons against it as she clicked her beak. “I guess that’s the scary part.” Flurry didn’t know what to say to that. She followed the others into the playroom, just wanting to curl up with a book and pretend nothing was wrong. *** “Yeah, here’s the guy.” Spike walked into the library’s reading room carrying a tray with three mugs of cocoa. Care sat on the couch, a dozen-odd sheets of paper scattered around her. She glanced up from her work long enough to give Spike a thank you, then lifted the sheet in a pink telekinetic bubble. “The description Button gave us of the big bruiser matches this creep right here. Blue coat, orange mane, stove cutie mark, the works.” Rumble lay sprawled on the rug in front of the fireplace, his legs hanging in the air. He rolled to the side to look her way without turning his head. “What’s his deal?” Spike leaned close to Care and read over her shoulder. “Kiln Stovepipe. Crimes include assault, murder, grave robbery, and tax evasion.” “Know associates include Widowmaker Puree and Doctor Poni Caballeron.” Care took a sip and licked foam from her upper lip. “Who, as it turns out, is an actual person.” “That’s bizarre.” Rumble waved a hoof as he tried to reach for a mug without actually getting up. “So A.K. Yearling used an actual dude as the inspiration for her villain?” “That’s one way of putting it.” Care Carrot set the profile down alongside one labeled “Caballeron.” “This third guy is the wild card. That pegasus. I don’t think there’s anything in here about him. At least, nothing that connects him to our kidnappers.” “What else does it say about Kiln?” Spike took a seat and set the tray down just out of Rumble’s reach. He added a log to the fire and stoked it with his claw. “Anything about how he and Caballeron met?” “Just that they’ve been working together for years.” Care shuffled through the notes, flipping through photos. “There’s even a picture of him and Caballeron—get this—attending a Daring Do convention… Eleven years ago? Weird.” Rumble sniggered. “I’ll bet they had the best costumes in the show.” Spike cocked a brow. “Depends on who you ask.” “And Caballeron himself—” Care shuffled through the folder until the found the proper profile. A face quite familiar to any fan of the Daring Do books flashed into view. “—has a pretty similar track record. Kidnapping, unlawful possession of magical artifacts, the ever-popular murder…” “Goodness me.” Rumble rolled twice across the floor to put himself in reach of the mug. He poured it into his mouth with a grin the size of a small house. “My, my but these criminal types and their bloodlust. Honestly, it’s quaint.” “Spooky part here.” Care unrolled a page that was mostly text. Her hoof trailed the lines until she reached a set of dates. “He’s roundabouts fifty, but these records only go back about twenty-five, twenty-six years.” Spike moved a page aside to sit beside her on the couch. He took the other side of the page to steady it. “So… we’re just missing half of his life? No clue what happened before?” “Not a thing.” Care let him have the profile so that she could focus on the cocoa. “He’s almost more of a mystery than Hurricane was, at this point. We’ve never had any luck tracking him down. He just vanishes after Daring Do foils him, only to reappear later.” Rumble snorted into his drink. He wiped his mouth with a hoof, sputtering with chuckles. “Did you just say what I think you said? Did you just say Dar—?” “Rumble—” “I know, I know, ‘shut up.’” Rumble looked into the bottom of his empty mug. He flicked his eyes towards Care. “You did say Daring Do, didn’t you? I’m not crazy?” “Alright, history lesson time.” Care set the cup on the tray with a ceramic ting. “The Author A.K. Yearling is actually a pursuer of antiquities—” “Treasure hunter,” Spike said. “Whatever.” Care shot him a grin before continuing. “—who has occasionally come across Caballeron. So yes, he is based on a real person.” “But you called her Daring Do.” Rumble stretched the full length of his body out and groaned. “You totally did, and I’ll never let you forget it.” Spike leaned his elbow on his knee and rested his chin in his palm. “Daring is her given name, Dude. Yearling’s just a penname she made up so that people didn’t think she was writing a self-insert fantasy. The name stuck.” “Also,” Care said, “for national security reasons, that information doesn’t leave this room.” “Lips sealed, and that’s the honest truth.” Rumble laughed to himself as he closed his eyes. “It’s just too priceless.” The door rattled on its hinges. Spike stood up and stretched. “I’ll see who it is. I’ll tell them we’re closed for renovations or something.” Care set about collecting loose pieces of paper. “Remember the byword: National security.” “That is, in fact, two words,” Rumble said. “Shut up, Rumble.” Spike trundled through the library on his hind legs. He opened the door with a smile on his face, but it melted like an ice cube in an oven. “Apple Bloom?” She stood before him, her face covered in tears, her mane disheveled, and her ears laid flat against her head. Her teeth ground tight behind her lips. “I’m here to help.” “But… I mean.” Spike reached up to cup her cheek in his palm. “I wanted to tell you, but—” “I know. Time and place.” Apple Bloom closed her eyes and leaned against his touch. She brought her hoof up to hold his hand in place. “Applejack filled me in. I woulda come straight here, but…” She wiped her eyes. “Well. I’m here to help. What can I do?” “We’ll find a place for you.” Spike gently tugged her inside and shut the door behind her. “We’re going over the suspects and notes. We’ve got more help on the way, too. We’re gonna have a whole army looking for Sweetie and Scoots.” Apple Bloom laughed, but it came out as a painful, phlegmy cough. “Well, I guess I’m your ‘plus one.’” He led her to the sitting room. Rumble sat up and waved. “Hay, AB. Long time, no see.” Care leaned over the back of the couch with a dim glower. “And I suppose this satisfies my need for national security in some way?” “Rumble, Care, I’d like to introduce you to the newest member of our team.” Spike laid a hand on her shoulder and smiled. “She’s gonna do some of the heavy lifting.” Care’s eyes widened. She tilted her head back to look up, up, up until she reached Apple Bloom’s face. “Yes, please.” “Good to have you onboard, AB.” Rumble threw a mock salute. “We’ve got a tall ship and a star to sail her by.” Apple Bloom shared a halfhearted smile with them. “Where do we start?” “We start,” Care Carrot said, “by finding out what connects Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo with Doctor Poni Caballeron.”