“Come on!” called out Inquisitor Sparkle as she jumped in place. “It’s fine. You won’t fall.”
Rarity wasn’t so sure. Nocturnal Ponyville was a long way down. Gingerly, she touched an immaculate white hoof to the fluffy water vapour. It gave slightly, the way snow would. “And h-how long will this spell l-last?” she asked, her voice wavering from the cold of the high altitude and definitely not from fear. She would have put on something appropriate, but the Nocturnal Equestrian had failed to mention, until the last moment, that Glimmer was imprisoned in Free Cloudsdale.
“The spell lasts a good twenty-four hours,” added Inquisitor Sparkle. “You’ll be fine.”
“I-I d-don’t see why w-we should be up h-here,” protested Rarity through chattering teeth; she regretted declining Fluttershy’s proffered wing for warmth. “Can’t we ask for her to be t-transferred down?” She looked down and gingerly placed a second hoof onto the gently yielding surface.
Inquisitor Sparkle rolled her eyes at that comment. “It’s bad enough she was transferred up here in the first place,” she said sternly, “you want me to transfer her back down and then have her transferred back up before her final transfer to Las Pegasus?” She looked at Rarity as if she had suggested marrying a rock. “That’s just asking for trouble.”
Certainly, Rarity couldn’t argue against that. She remembered an instance when a mob boss had gone missing between the court and prison. That was just point A to point B! What kind of chaos would they invoke if they introduced a point C into the situation? Goodness, now that Rarity thought about it, Caramel was also a prime example of someone going missing from between one point and another.
“What is she in for, anyway?” asked Rarity as she gingerly took another step.
“She was the leader of a Unionist group,” explained Inquisitor Sparkle. “I believe she called it the National Unionist Equestrian Worker’s Party.”
Well that explained everything. Even in Diurnal Equestria, Unionism—the call for the peaceful reunification of the two Equestrias—was frowned upon, especially since the election of the League of the Unconquered Sun. She imagined membership of that political movement would have been a capital offence in Nocturnal Equestria.
“Now come on,” said Inquisitor Sparkle quickly. “We can’t miss visiting hours.” She gestured for Fluttershy to lead the way.
Rarity followed Fluttershy and the inquisitor through streets made entirely out of clouds, lit mostly by the light from the stars and the moon. There were no lanterns or street lamps, and the cloud houses around her were dark, save for the house numbers and street signs in glowing paint.
The locals wore clothing that glowed in the dark. Not full luminescent ensembles, but individual items, some wore glowing vests, and others had headbands or leg bands. She could just imagine what the streets would look like if the clouds obscured the moonlit sky, but seeing as this was Free Cloudsdale, it was possible that that never happened. What kind of material did they use? She couldn’t imagine it being the paint they used for signs.
“I’m sorry, I don’t really know much about it,” apologised Fluttershy in response to Rarity’s question. “Was I supposed to know? Is that something visitors are likely to ask about? I’m sorry, this is my first time as a guide. I usually work in—well, I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you about it.”
“You’ve heard of electroluminescence, right?” asked the inquisitor. “Well,” she continued before Rarity could respond, “this is magicoluminescence. It acts on similar principles, but glows in the presence of magic. It’s actually quite ingenious. The material has a magical threshold that needs to be bypassed. Background levels just won’t cut it. You have to…”
Rarity regretted asking now. This Twilight Sparkle was surely in the wrong profession. She couldn’t imagine what bizarre circumstances had funnelled her into law enforcement. Asking the inquisitor was probably a bad idea. If she’d launch into a lecture into something so mundane as glowing materials, her life story would probably warrant an entire course with a textbook and homework.
“Goodness, we’ve been walking for quite some time now,” said Rarity once the inquisitor had finished. “Frau Fluttershy, how much further is the prison?”
“I’m sorry,” replied Fluttershy. “We could have docked closer, but the port near the prison was damaged. I heard there’d been an accident with a thunderbolt.”
“Still can’t believe that happened,” murmured Inquisitor Sparkle under her breath.
“I’m sorry,” apologised Fluttershy. “But… it’s alright. We’re nearly there.” She smiled weakly. “Look, there it is,” she exclaimed as she turned a corner.
Free Cloudsdale Prison was a large building on the outskirts of the cloud city. It had been sculpted out of clouds in the neoclassical pegasus style, its Ionic columns and friezes illuminated in the moonlight. A sign in front—in luminescent paint naturally—bore its name and a statement that proudly proclaimed it had been built to Las Pegasus standard, whatever that meant.
A pair of pegasus ponies stood guard at a gate in the prison’s chain link boundary fence. To their side was a small wooden shack, a unicorn’s head just visible through the window. They all wore the dark armour of the Lunar Guard, and like the lictor whom Rarity had seen outside Night Glider’s room, the two pegasus guards wore couteaux. Unlike the lictor’s pair, these were shaped like bat wings and were the same colour as their armour.
“Lang lebe die Nacht,” greeted Inquisitor Sparkle before she introduced both Rarity and Fluttershy. She handed them identification papers. “We’re here to see a prisoner,” she continued in Nocturnal Equestrian.
“I believe my father is expecting us?” asked Fluttershy suddenly.
“Wait, your father?”
“I’m sorry,” repeated Fluttershy for what was possibly the fifteenth time that night. “My father’s the warden,” she explained. “I thought I mentioned it to you, but if I didn’t, I’m really sorry.”
There wasn’t any need to be. If anything, it was a boon. Rarity just didn’t expect the daughter of a prison warden to be so shy. Then again, she rarely met a prison warden’s offspring; wardens tended to be wise enough to keep work and family very separate.
They waited a while, as the guard in the booth called into the prison using a telephone that had clearly been designed by humans for human use. Only fingers could press its tiny buttons, and it had a handset that no hoof or wing could pick up reliably. The unicorn in the booth didn’t have that problem, and used the device effortlessly with his magic.
A few minutes later, a pegasus pony approached them. He was a turquoise blue, and his white mane settled into a strange ice-cream-like swirl. At first, Rarity couldn’t quite see the family resemblance. Then he spoke.
The warden’s Nocturnal Equestrian was smooth and kindly, shorn of its harsh consonants, and the complete antithesis of Nightmare Moon’s harsh orations. He greeted them with pleasantries, before he asked something that sounded vaguely like, “Are these you friends, Inquisitor Sparkle and Frau Rarity?”
“Friends is a bit of an—”
“Why yes; yes, we are!” shouted Rarity. “It’s nice to meet you, Herr Shy,” she said.
Both Fluttershy and Inquisitor Sparkle winced at her mangling of the language. Had she used the wrong words? She’d used the wrong words, hadn’t she? Well, the Warden didn’t seem to notice or if he did, he thought it wise not to say anything.
“Please do come in,” offered Fluttershy’s father in fluent Diurnal Equestrian. “I expect you two aren’t quite used to the cold.”
“Yes, somepony failed to mention our destination was so high up,” said Rarity with a sideways glance at the inquisitor.
“And I said I was sorry!”
“Girls, it’s alright,” said the warden with a soothing gesture of his right foreleg. “I assure you, it’s much warmer inside. Please, follow me.”
After submitting themselves to a search by the Lunar Guards, the three ponies followed the warden into the prison building.
It was much nicer inside the prison, not toasty, but warm enough. As her eyes adjusted to the light, she saw they were inside a large circular room with three floors. Wide corridors joined this room in three of the four cardinal directions and everywhere she looked, there were the same thick steel cables that joined the ceiling to the floor, which was a metallic grille with holes wide enough for a hoof to slip through.
“Careful now,” said the warden as he led them through the central chamber. “We don’t want you tripping.” He explained that the holes in the grille were an anti-riot measure.
“Herr Warden, I hope you don’t mind me asking, but what’s with the cables?” asked Rarity as she passed one. It was incredibly thick, about a metre in diameter, and its base was protected by a massive metallic cylinder.
“In the event of a riot, the guards break the cables from above,” explained Fluttershy’s father.
Rarity’s eyes widened. “Wait, you mean you drop the prisoners?” she exclaimed. She remembered the dizzying trip up into the sky. “Wouldn’t that kill them? And aren’t we above Ponyville right now? Ponies below would get hurt!”
“My father would never do that!” protested Fluttershy, her wings spread out and her eyes wide with disbelief. Rarity had never seen her guide so animated before. “You take care of the prisoners with great compassion, don’t you, Dad?” she asked.
The warden looked away embarrassed as their hooves clanged against the metallic grille. “Well,” he began awkwardly. “I do my best, but the Grosseding has issued a Code Red.”
Inquisitor Sparkle frowned. “For this prison?” she asked incredulously. “You don’t think they’re afraid of Glimmer, are they?”
“What’s a Code Red?”
“In the event of war with Diurnal Equestria, we’re to… remove the prisoners,” said Warden Shy reluctantly.
“At ‘terminal’ velocity,” added Inquisitor Sparkle. She punctuated her statement with a forceful smash of her hoof.
“That’s horrible!” protested Rarity as she watched a pair of Lunar Guards escort a pegasus pony. Unlike the other Nocturnal Equestrians she’d seen, he wore nothing save for an inhibitor band that bound his wings tightly to his sides; she could see his cutie mark: a moon partially covered by cloud. “You mean to tell me that if we went to war, these prisoners would—?”
“Yes, I’m afraid so,” replied Warden Shy with a sad nod of his head, “but it’s out of my hooves. If the Grosseding insists, then I can only follow my orders.”
The Grosseding, the Nocturnal Equestrian parliament, would brook no argument. Rarity didn’t pay much attention to international news, but what little she had read suggested it was fully under the control of the Army. Unlike its Diurnal Equestrian equivalent, the Ponysding, there were no career politicians, only generals that expected complete obedience.
“Well here we are: Frau Glimmer’s cell,” said Warden Shy with a flourish.
They were at the end of one of the corridors. A pair of Lunar Guards flanked the door, each one as still as a statue, their gaze focused straight ahead to the other end of the corridor.
“When will she be transferred?” asked Inquisitor Sparkle.
“I’m not getting any definite lead times,” responded Warden Shy with a heavy sigh. “Perhaps a week.” He nodded to the Lunar Guards.
One of them banged on the door. “Frau Glimmer, you have a visitor!” he shouted before he counted to five under his breath, his horn glowing gradually brighter. Then he touched the door, and it immediately became transparent.
The inside of the cell was a brilliantly illuminated white void of a room. Rarity had never seen such illumination; there were no shadows! As her eyes adjusted to the light, she saw a reddish pink unicorn with a purple mane, a single turquoise stripe through it. She sat at an angle where her cutie mark—a purple star with turquoise wisps of smoke rising from it—was clearly visible. Chains, nearly pulled taut, kept her fixed to the middle of the cell, away from the walls. Unlike the other prisoner, the guards had fitted a plastic muzzle guard over her face as if she was a rabid Diamond Dog prone to biting the hoof that fed her.
“Frau Glimmer, remember me?” asked Inquisitor Sparkle.
A strange smile spread across the unicorn mare’s face—still visible behind the restraint—as she focused her gaze on the inquisitor. “How could I forget the mare who arrested me?” she asked. “Still a lapdog to Nightmare Moon, I see.” She frowned and leaned forward, the chains clinking noisily as she pulled two of them taut. “And—oh, what’s this? Your friend is a Diurnal Equestrian!” She smiled at Rarity before she greeted, “Goede nacht, Mevrouw,” she greeted in Diurnal Equestrian. “I’m Starlight Glimmer. And you are…?”
“…here about one of your followers,” said Inquisitor Sparkle before Rarity could respond. “Party Favor?”
Starlight smiled at the inquisitor indulgently with slow nods of her head. “Doesn’t ring a bell, I’m afraid,” she responded quietly. “I have so many followers, followers who thirsted for the overthrow of the tyrants who think they can rule over us. The world would be so much better without either of the Alicorn Sisters.” She turned to Rarity. “You agree, right, Mevrouw…?”
“Rarity,” she responded. “And I don’t see your point,” Rarity continued with a toss of her head, “Koningin Celestia is no tyrant; she’s just a figurehead.”
“That may be, but what about your Ponysding?” responded Starlight Glimmer with a frown.
“We have free elections!” protested Rarity.
“And yet you’ve got a political party in government, voted in by less than half of your populace,” commented Glimmer with a nonchalant glance at her hooves.
“We’re not here to listen to your treasonous rants,” protested the inquisitor as she slammed both her front hooves onto the metallic floor with a resounding clang. “The ponies of this continent will only unite when Celestia’s blood is trampled into the ground.”
Glimmer smiled at Inquisitor Sparkle. “Of course, of course,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hoof, “I had expected such an ideologically pure reply from you, Inquisitor.” She turned to Rarity. “See how bad things are? Such hatred and all because you blindsight one another, choose to believe that the other is not there.”
“Be that as it may, this isn’t the time or the place to discuss such matters,” protested Rarity suddenly. “We’re here because we hoped you might help us.”
“The only way I can help you is if you free me,” responded Starlight. “I can show you all the way to a new glorious future. Only when we are united can Equestria be great again.”
With a sigh, Fluttershy interposed herself between them and Starlight Glimmer. She looked into the cell and said something quietly in Nocturnal Equestrian. The unicorn prisoner seemed to visibly pale as Fluttershy continued. “Do I make myself clear?” she finished, at which point Starlight flinched back with a clank of chains. Fluttershy frowned and got a silent nod in response. “Good.” She turned and smiled apologetically to both Inquisitor Sparkle and Rarity, before she slinked away.
Inquisitor Sparkle cleared her throat. “Well, yes,” she began. “Anyway, we need answers, Glimmer. Two ponies have had their cutie marks removed, along with their magic. You’re the only pony who knows such a spell.”
“And you think I cast it from my cell?” asked Starlight. “With this inhibitor ring on my horn?” She laughed curtly. “Oh yes, I am a powerful mage after all! I’m flattered you—” She trailed off.
Rarity followed Starlight’s gaze and noticed Fluttershy glaring daggers at the imprisoned unicorn. A shudder ran through her body.
“We need to know whether you taught anypony else that spell,” continued the inquisitor, oblivious to the pegasus mare’s effect on the prisoner.
Starlight sighed with a rattling shake of her head. “I can’t betray my ponies,” she said softly. “You understand, don’t you, Inquisitor?”
“And what of Party Favor?” asked Rarity before Inquisitor Sparkle could get another word in. “He’s one of the ponies Inquisitor Sparkle mentioned. Somepony took his cutie mark and his magic. He’s in hospital now; he might not ever wake up.” She gave Starlight the same look she used whenever she wanted her sister to spill the beans; years of proliferation between the two sisters had turned that facial expression into a wonder weapon she was sure the Nocturnal Equestrians would covet. “Is he not one of your ponies? Will you betray him by not helping us?”
Starlight looked to Inquisitor Sparkle then back to Rarity. “Party Favor was one of my closest followers,” she said quietly.
“I’m sorry to press you, but you understand the situation, don’t you, dear?” asked Rarity softly. “It’s not right that somepony can get away with something so heinous.”
The chains rattled slightly as Starlight leaned forward gently. “Mevrouw Rarity, do you understand the value of information?” she asked. “Sometimes, you pay for it with your life.”
“Is that a threat?” asked Inquisitor Sparkle.
“Just a statement of fact,” replied Glimmer.
“That’s true, but it can also be the cost of withholding information,” Rarity replied. “Now, I’m not saying Meneer Favor is on death’s door, but how many more of your old acquaintances, friends even, are you willing to sacrifice?” She waited a while. There was no response from Starlight Glimmer; in a way, Rarity hadn’t expected any. She’d noticed that Starlight’s ears hadn’t moved once during the entire conversation; the prisoner projected an aura of confidence, despite her restraints. “You care about justice, don’t you? Is it just that Meneer Favor’s talent, his very magic, was stolen from him?”
“Hippolyta,” said Starlight.
Rarity frowned. “I’m sorry, who’s Hippolyta?” she asked.
Inquisitor Sparkle stamped her hoof heavily on the floor with a clank of metal against metal. “Do you think I can’t get your sentence increased, Glimmer?” she snapped as she jabbed a hoof in the prisoner’s direction. “We can put you on trial again, you know. I’m sure Crown Prosecutor Heartstrings would love to see you get the terminal drop.”
“It’s not my fault that’s where she claimed to be from!”
“What is Hippolyta, darling?” asked Rarity.
Inquisitor Sparkle swallowed nervously. “Hippolyta,” she began, “is—” She looked to Fluttershy, who nodded slowly. “When Old Equestria… split, some believe it split into… three.”
“Hippolyta is the Third Kingdom,” added Starlight, “the Secret Kingdom.” She sat on her haunches. “It’s supposed to exist between… Diurnal and Nocturnal Equestria,” she said, extending a foreleg for each kingdom, “in the atopic areas, places Diurnal Equestria thinks are Nocturnal and Nocturnal Equestria thinks are Diurnal.”
“But it’s a myth!” protested Inquisitor Sparkle. “A treasonous myth,” she added with a cold glare at the imprisoned unicorn.
“Darling, this Hippolyta sounds to me like Concordia.”
“No, Concordia is different,” responded Inquisitor Sparkle with a shake of her head. “I’m always telling the human tourists to think of them as a police force. Sure, they’re secretive, but they maintain a presence; they want you to know they exist. Hippolyta… Hippolyta…”
“Hippolyta doesn’t; it suits them to be thought of as a myth,” added Starlight Glimmer, “because they secretly control both kingdoms from the shadows.” She smiled. “Or so it’s said.”
“And the pony who visited you claimed to be from Hippolyta?” asked Rarity.
“Why would they come to you, a known unionist?” interjected Inquisitor Sparkle. She turned her head ever so slightly, her left side focused on Starlight, a subtle species-specific movement that suggested she didn’t like the unicorn one bit. “Surely Hippolyta—if they exist—favour the current regimes?” she pointed out. “Where would they hide if the two kingdoms combined?”
Glimmer shrugged her shoulders. “She wouldn’t give her reasons, but she wanted my expertise,” she replied. “And before you ask, no, I can’t tell you what she looked like. She was a blur, a literal blur; I couldn’t focus on her at all.”
“Just like Concordia,” said Rarity.
Rarity remembered her first time seeing Concordia in action. The cause had been the most common of all such—a traffic accident. A Nocturnal Equestrian carriage had broken free from a pony’s harness. It passed through the polytopic road she or he had been travelling and struck a monotopically Diurnal Equestrian boutique and the pony who had been window-shopping there.
In seconds, Concordia had arrived. They had seemed to coalesce out of the shadows, though perhaps they had always been there. As the Marechausee taped off the area and pushed the curious away, Concordia had gotten to work with powers that had seemed almost impossible to her. They had moved with such speed, and try as she might, Rarity had been unable to see the ponies properly.
“Not Concordia,” stressed Starlight.
“Well, obviously,” agreed Rarity quickly, “I wouldn’t wish to insult them with possibly unfounded allegations.”
In theory, it wasn’t a crime to disparage Concordia. In practice, no adult dared. Only foals attempted it with games of tag where ‘It’ was Concordia and where homotopic, heterotopic and polytopic areas were marked out in chalk. Rarity had played it herself as a filly and nothing bad came from it. Then again, foals were never arrested for discording on the understanding that their parents would discipline their discordant offspring.
“So, you can’t tell me what the mare sounded like?” asked Inquisitor Sparkle. “You can’t even describe her magical signature?”
Starlight Glimmer shook her head silently.
“What about your spell to remove cutie marks?” asked Inquisitor Sparkle.
“No, never!” protested Starlight. “Why would I help you?”
“Why did you help this ‘Hippolyta’ pony?” retorted Inquisitor Sparkle. “You’re the only one who knows how to remove cutie marks from a pony. Not even our best minds at the Royal Academy can replicate your spell. The spell must have come from you.” She walked closer to the door. “What did she offer you? Was it worth it? Was it worth the hospitalisation of one of your friends?”
“Now, Inquisitor—”
The inquisitor raised a hoof in a silencing gesture. “Look where your ideals and loyalties have got you,” she said. “Soon you’ll be in Las Pegasus, where the best you can hope for is to die from old age.” She advanced on Glimmer. “If nothing else, tell me what kind of magical signature I should be looking for.”
Rarity realised there was one other tactic she could try. “Starlight,” she called out gently, “please, you must help us. That pony seems to be targeting your friends.”
“Yes,” agreed Inquisitor Sparkle with an overeager smile. “She’s threatening your entire organisation. Well, what’s left of it, anyway.”
Starlight looked first to Rarity then to the inquisitor. “Fine,” she said with a heavy sigh.
The explanation itself went straight over Rarity’s head. She only knew spells of glamour and telekinesis, and even then, only in a very rudimentary manner. All Starlight’s talk of thaumaturgic particles and frequencies might as well have been in one of the many rhyming Zebra languages for all the good it did. And maybe she was imagining it, but she could have sworn that the inquisitor was enjoying it; if Rarity didn’t know any better, she could have sworn that Inquisitor Sparkle and Starlight Glimmer were the best of friends.
Perhaps in another life, thought Rarity.
“Entschuldigen Sie bitte.”
Rarity’s ears flicked in the direction of the voice, seconds before she turned. A Lunar Guard had approached Fluttershy and her father with a letter in his magical grip.
If only she could remember her Nocturnal Equestrian lessons from High School! Her grasp of Nocturnal Equestrian was atrocious, though she was lucky that the two languages were similar enough for basic conversation. Her fashion work was more likely to bring her in contact with French, Italian or even English speakers. Perhaps there were decent Swiss or Austrian fashion houses, but if there were, they didn’t like to outsource any of their work to Diurnal Equestria.
With a nod, Fluttershy walked away from the Lunar Guard and her father. “Uh, I’m sorry to interrupt, but is Inquisitor Sparkle done?” she asked Rarity with a brief glance towards the inquisitor in question. “I mean, it’s quite alright if she’s not, but… well… we’ve received a message from Lictor Thunderlane.”
Rarity turned in the direction of the two unicorns. “Perhaps it’s best if I draw her attention,” she said. She didn’t mean that as a disparagement on Fluttershy. Certainly, she found the pegasus mare very quiet, but Rarity suspected even the loudest, most vocal pony would get ignored in this instance. “What’s the message, anyway?”
“He says they’ve arrested some mare called… uh… Moon Dancer?”
“They have?” exclaimed Inquisitor Sparkle excitedly as she galloped towards them like a foal on Hearth’s Warming Eve. Apparently, she’d overheard. “We’d better get going, then. Time waits for no mare!”