Footsteps echoed through endless, sterile hallways. Black, door-shaped holes dotted the brilliantly white walls, occasionally breaking up the mindless monotony of the spartan maze Shawn navigated.
He was chasing something, or maybe someone. A flickering, shadowy figure that he could only catch bare glimpses of before it turned each corner. It felt like he'd been running for hours. Days. Years.
Someone else ran beside him, a featureless shape that loped along more often on four legs than it did on two.
Another corner, another hallway. This time, the floor and ceiling came alive with blurry images. A powerful sense of déjà vu emanated from them, as if-
It had felt very much like a flashback: One of the vivid memories he often called up from the depths of his eidetic mind to reanalyze an important scene or event. Except, this time it had been less like remembering, and more like getting a serious déjà vu from a daydream. As if he hadn't remembered an actual event, but a memory of an event.
His body spasmed, though he did not stop running. It was entirely possible that he couldn't.
A memory of a memory...
Another corner, another hallway. Featureless once again, except for a shadow. A dark, shapeless stain that hung in the air, fading into one of the square black holes. This was it.
Shawn shouted in challenge, charging forward as fast as his legs could carry him. The shapeless being actually looked surprised as he collided with it, driving them both into the black void beyond the empty frame. There was a screech, like nails on a chalkboard, and the figure shattered into a million pieces, dispersing into the nether.
The screeching continued as he tumbled through empty space. Forming barely heard words, instilling half formed images into his mind.
... promised...
... you promised, Shawn.
Shawn....
SHAWN...
"SHAWN!"
Shawn's eyes fluttered open, the terrifyingly real dream quickly fading from clarity. The first thing he noticed was how white everything still looked. Except for those two azure lakes, pierced by a similarly matched pair of black wells at their centers. Actually, now that he thought about it, this vista was remarkably similar to what he would imagine an extreme close up of a cartoonishly large pair of eyes might look like.
Vividly blue eyes.
Just like Pinkie's eyes.
"Huh...?" he muttered.
The rest of the world came into focus. Most of it was currently occupied by the frowning, furious visage of one slightly charred pegasus party pirate. Ex-Party pirate.
"Apologize." she demanded.
It was at that moment that Shawn's brain, a notoriously slow starter in the mornings, finally caught up with the situation. After careful analysis, it determined that he was being pinned to the bed by a rabid Pinkie Pie. Now, there were few good options in this kind of a situation, as unfamiliar as it was, so it dug through its extensive database of classic movie scenarios for an appropriate response. After a moment's processing, Shawn's brain finally settled on an old but reliable standby: the Jack Woltz.
"AAAAAAUUUUUUUG-"
A white hoof rudely cut off his protestation at Pinkie's chosen manner of rousing him from sleep.
"I didn't hear a sorry in there..." Pinkie's voice took on a warning tone as she tilted her head sideways and forward, bringing a single, bulging eye to bear on his discomfort.
"Hmmphm?"
Her ears twitched at his muffled utterance, and she slowly removed the hoof that was covering his mouth.
Shawn took a deep breath, "In my defense, I had my fingers crossed, which in my culture completely nullifies the-"
Pinkie's eyes narrowed dangerously.
"Sorry!" Shawn put his hands up in front of his face, turning away from the terrifying glare, "I'mreallysorrypleasedon'thurtme!"
There was a moment of silence, as if she judged the sincerity of his words, before she finally spoke.
"Okay!"
Shawn started going into another round of rushed apologies before he paused, "Pardon?"
"Okay!" she restated. Her trademark goofy smile was back, and she was happily clambering off of the bed.
"What... that's it? No punishment? No righteous infliction of retribution for my foul preradication?"
Pinkie paused at the door, glancing back at him with features scrunched up in mild confusion, "Why would I punish you if you said you're sorry, silly? And I don't think that last word was right... actually, I don't think that was a word at all..."
He would have been more indignant, had elation not been coursing through his veins. This kind of a situation was new to him... normally, he'd have to manipulate, lie, and play endless word games to get away this. Apparently, all he had to do here, with Pinkie, was say he's sorry and BAM! Absolutely no consequen-
"Soft Speech, he's awake! And he's ready to apologize to you personally for probably burning down your livelihood!" Pinkie called out through the open doorway, then turned back to him, that same, silly smile plastered on her face, "You should get up. We're having waffles for breakfast!"
"Did... did you just hold a grudge?" he asked, unsure of whether to feel shocked or proud.
"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about, darling." Pinkie followed her rather fair imitation of Rarity with a wink, then reached forward and grabbed the edge of the open door with a front hoof, "Don't dilly-dally now. Wouldn't want your breakfast to get cold, hmm?"
The door slammed shut, leaving Shawn alone with his thoughts.
--------------------------------------------
Seven hours.
Seven hours of hard labor by his winged guards and the local pegasi to pour enough rain into the conflagration to put it out. Captain Aegis's eyelids drooped, his body felt heavy, and his stomach competed with his parched throat for attention. Still, he stood, silently watching over the process as workers and guards picked through the wreckage.
So far, it seemed that only the abandoned portions of the warehouse district had been affected, the fire's progress halted by basic fire-proofing spells cast on many of the buildings that actually had anything of value in them.
One of the pegasi, a sooty up-and-comer by the name of Storm Front, flew down to him and threw up a weary salute.
"What's the damage, wing-leader?"
"I'm happy to report that there have been no casualties, sir, and injuries are minor at worst. That pony who set this off was either really careful or really lucky."
Aegis grunted in reply. There really was nothing he could say about that. He'd never been a good liar - better suited to spotting lies than to telling them - so he'd adopted a policy of communicating in grunts when it seemed unavoidable for him to tell one. So far, and somewhat worryingly, nopony had noticed.
He refused to think about the implications of that.
"Good work." Aegis rasped and turned to survey the landscape, "Correct me if I'm wrong wing-leader Storm Front... but you were one of the first responders to this whole mess, right? In fact, I believe you were the one to rally the pegasi and griffons into weather teams."
The guard hesitated, a grimace overcoming his features, before he nodded, "Yes, sir."
"The city lost 13 buildings... but it could have been a lot worse. Cauldron owes you a debt, as does the Guard, for your exemplary service. I'll be sure to put your name forward for a commendation. Now... I want you to tell me exactly what you saw."
-------------------------------------------
Twilight sat despondently at the edge of the pier. Fluttershy, Rarity, and Applejack sat around her, trying to comfort their friend as they waited for the last of the smoke to clear.
"Well... if'n ya look at it one way, it could'a been worse, Ah suppose." Applejack's patted Twilight's shoulder, trying her best to prevent her fake smile from faltering.
"Really?" Twilight turned to grace the farmer with a raised eyebrow, "They burnt down a significant portion of the Eastern section of the city. The section that occupies the land of the same country who's diplomat we arrested for conspiracy to commit regicide."
"Well, at least no one was hurt!" Rarity broke in, "Not seriously anyway. Although that one handsome, young pegasus did look somewhat worse for wear. I wonder if he's already got somepony treating his wounds...?" she mused aloud.
Fluttershy gave the fashionista an admonishing look before turning back to Twilight, "Oh, I'm sure Shawn and Pinkie probably had a good reason... I think..."
For her part, Twilight could only sigh again. She wasn't so much concerned about a few empty buildings that probably should have been torn down years ago, anyway. It was that they had completely lost track of the destructive duo in the chaos of the disaster. And if the two had ever left any clues as to their next destination, the fire, smoke, and ash had thoroughly concealed them from even thorough inspection.
"I think you might be giving Shawn a bit too much credit." Twilight quipped with a smile she hadn't realized was in her.
"Maybe you're not giving him enough. Credit, I mean." Rainbow Dash piped in from her low-hanging cloud. The experienced weather mare had proven herself immensely helpful during the crisis, quickly taking charge of the teams that had been vainly attempting to siphon water from the river into the atmosphere. Not to mention providing much of the wing-power required to lift the water in the first place. Now that the fire had been put out, however, there wasn't much for her to do.
"Besides," Dash continued, "Why don't you just use a locator spell to find them again?"
"Don't you think that's the first thing I tried!?" Twilight cried. She reigned herself in... as the unspoken leader, it wouldn't do for her to show her frustration to the group. She had to upkeep morale after all.
Dash rolled onto her stomach, giving her a very confused look, "Wait... I thought you were the one who was blocking locator spells from finding them?"
"I was..." she replied, "At first. I spent a considerable amount of my magical stamina blocking the lieutenant's own attempts at finding them. Only to later realize the whole effort was moot when I was unable to locate them myself."
Twilight groaned, covering her face with her hooves "This whole expedition is a total disaster!" Her hooves moved to cover her mouth immediately after she'd said it, but it was too late.
Way to upkeep that morale, Twilight.
Her friends grimaced and glanced at each other, obviously unsure of what to say about this new revelation.
"Wait..." Applejack spoke up, "if you're not shieldin' them. Then who is?"
"That's a good question, Applejack." Twilight sighed. She was at a total loss as to what step to take next, "I'm a little scared of the answer... and without clues or magic, I'm not sure if there's even anything we can do other than start over from scratch."
"Ah! Hello there, Miss Sparkle!" A jaunty voice rang out from behind the group, and every mare turned toward its source.
General Rex bounded toward them with a speed belied by his mass, perhaps a remnant of his days as an actual guard. According to captain Aegis, the diamond dog had been quite the fearsome soldier back in his hayday. Several smaller dogs carrying clip-boards and chattering back and forth with each other followed on his heels.
"General Rex." she exclaimed, genuinely surprised, "Why are you... I mean, to what do we owe the pleasure?"
The diamond dog grinned, bearing his full array of sharp teeth in a saccharine smile, "The pleasure is all mine, I assure you."
Twilight blinked and looked back at her friends in confusion. As far as she knew, they hadn't parted with the general on the best of terms.
"And nothing of great importance, really." Rex continued, "Merely the small matter of compensation for the... 13, yes? 13 public warehouses the city lost to the fire caused by your fugitive."
"What!?" Dash exclaimed from her cloud as Twilight's head whipped back around to face the still smiling dog.
The rest of her friends followed suit, vocalizing various expressions of shock, disbelief, and outrage.
"We just spent half the night saving your butts and you wanna charge us!?" Dash continued, incensed, "If it hadn't been for us being there, you would've lost a lot more than 13 empty warehouses!"
"Be that as it may," Rex replied, never losing his composure, "the warehouses were lost because your guards let those fugitives escape into my city. And while we all greatly appreciate your valiant efforts to prevent the fire from spreading, the fact remains that this was obviously a diversionary tactic on their part. Which they wouldn't have pulled if you hadn't been chasing them. Or if you'd caught them. Or if you'd never lost them in the first place."
Twilight's mouth moved, but she couldn't find the words to respond. The dog was right. More right than even he knew or suspected. More right than he could ever know if they had any hope of maintaining friendly relations with the city. Shawn was her responsibility... it was high time she started owning that.
What would the princess do? she asked herself.
"Listen here, you-!"
"Dash!" Twilight interrupted her friend before she said something they'd all regret, "He's right. This whole mess is our responsibility. It would be patently unfair to shift the costs of our mistakes unto the taxpayers of a city that never should have been involved in the first place."
General Rex's smile faltered, and he regarded her with an inscrutable expression. Perhaps it was respect.
One could only hope.
"Thank you, Miss Sparkle." Rex continued, regaining his smile once more, "You will find the totality of the expenses required to rebuild the warehouses in this report."
He handed her a stacked pyramid of scrolls that one of the assistant dogs had been carrying, "Please be sure that your princess receives them as soon as possible. Perhaps we will use some of the funds to build a small monument in honor of the bravery and generosity of the Equestrian representatives who put out the fire."
Twilight only nodded and enveloped the scrolls in a field of her magic. She'd have to get the lieutenant to transfer them to Royal Guard HQ, classified for the princesses' eyes only. She was really starting to regret never having learned that Dragonfire spell, always having had Spike there to do it for her with the added benefit of not needing any prep or magical focus.
The one time in my life I'm not on top of something... she thought wryly.
A deep breath and one last sigh later, she stood.
"You okay, suga'cube?"
"Yeah, AJ." she responded, feeling suddenly invigorated, "Let's get these sent out and get moving. We have to find and catch up with Shawn and Pinkie in case they need our help."
"That is what friends are for, after all." Rarity finished for her, and the rest smiled with her.
--------------------------------------------------
Shawn squinted in the light of the noonday sun. He fidgeted, trying to get comfortable in a seat that was clearly not designed for anything like him, while at the same time preventing the constant wind from blowing the paltry remains of his meal into his face. The four of them had chosen to take breakfast outside, the cabin being far too small to accommodate the curious crowd of creatures that populated lady-cappy's vessel.
As it turned out, Soft Speech bore no grudge towards him for the fire that struck the city. Apparently, minotaurs were nomadic, and rarely complained when circumstances forced them to pack up and move on. Or, in some cases, just move on.
"If it did burn down, this might be a good time for Soft Speech to finally start looking for an assistant chef position at a respectable restaurant." she had told him.
Shawn let the quiet moment stretch for a bit, enjoying the feeling of being full and well rested. Even Pinkie simply leaned back and patted her belly, which was currently distended by the consumption of most of Wavedancer's surprisingly large store of magically preserved waffles.
"So," Soft Speech was the first to break the silence, "Soft Speech thinks it's high time you told her why you came back. More information? Soft Speech's sparkling personality, maybe?" she joked.
"Little bit of one, whole lot of the other." Shawn quipped back, then waited for her rumbling chuckles to die down so he could continue, "We hit a little bit of a wall, honestly."
"Did you?"
"Yup. We got cappy, here, to introduce us to Patrius, who we convinced to hook us up with The Shadow. So long as we did something for him, first."
Shawn leaned forward, chin on his hands, gauging her reaction. She didn't give away much. Perhaps because her features or facial expressions were subtly different from what he was used to in dealing with humans and ponies. Though, likely as not, she simply had a good poker face. He'd yet to run into any professional information dealers that didn't. At least, none that had stuck around for very long.
He did spot the lightest vestiges of what could be interpreted by some as disgust, however. A light crinkling of the eyes. A mildly furrowed brow. The deeper, steadier breathing of one actively suppressing a strong emotional response.
"Which really wasn't what you were expecting, was it?" Shawn continued, leaning back and relaxing as best he could on a wide, sturdy seat built for diamond dogs and minotaurs.
Soft Speech smiled, either forcing levity or genuinely amused, "Soft Speech has to admit... you've lost her on that one."
"No, not really." he replied, and leaned forward again, right hand flying to his forehead and eyes locked on hers, "You see, you knew that lady-cappy is basically the one smuggler left in the city that doesn't deal with The Shadow. In fact, you were sure she'd end up being a dead end."
The minotaur became very still, except for a barely perceptible widening of the eyes. Shawn grinned.
"You didn't want us getting involved, because you had something else going on. Something you didn't want anyone to find out about. Something having to do with Patrius's daughter, who hates The Shadow and what it's done to the city even more than you do. Something that might end up getting you... disappeared."
She tapped her fingers on the edge of the table, rattling loose screws against old wood, "Normally, Soft Speech wouldn't even bother with the likes of you. But Surprise reminds Soft Speech of a dear friend she used to have in the good 'ol days of civilized skulduggery...
Soft Speech's hands curled into fists, the muscles of her arms tensing visibly.
"She was last seen in your bar, Softy, before she dropped from the grid completely. Now, I'm guessing you have no idea where she actually is. In fact, I bet you're afraid someone got to her, which is why you were so quick to ditch your bar and jump on the boat of the one person you thought you could be sure wouldn't be working for The Shadow. Because you might be next."
"Stop..." The minotaur gritted her teeth.
"You can't stop da funk!" he yelled and stood, "And this is where we hit a wall. We need to find her to get in with The Shadow, and we need you to help us do it."
Soft Speech stood from her chair, glaring and talking in a low, dangerous tone, "If you think Soft Speech will give Gilda up to that monster, you've got another thing comin'. Two things, in fact." She motioned to her horns as she took up an aggressive stance.
So that's her name. Gilda.
Wavedancer, who'd been nervously observing the whole encounter, jumped from her own chair, horn glowing, "Try it, and ye'll find out why this ship be called the Rough Seas, monster."
"WHOA!" Shawn shouted, waving his arms, "Whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa."
The sea-mare and the minotaur stared at him, their tension temporarily disarmed by utter confusion.
"Whoa..." Shawn finished, glancing back and forth between the two, "Okay, first of all, if you two start fighting here we're all just going to end up drowned."
"Soft Speech is a strong swimmer."
"Not if ye got an anchor tied 'round yer neck ye aren't."
"Wou- STOP! Just... STOP!" Shawn sighed and gripped the bridge of his nose between his fingers, "Cappy, Softy probably still thinks we're trying to work for The Shadow. Softy, we're not really trying to work for The Shadow."
Wavedancer visibly relaxed, rolling her eyes and plopping herself back onto her seat, "Then ye should'a started with tha', ye daft bugger."
"If if's and but's were candy and nuts, hindsight would be 20/20." Shawn replied, indignant.
"Wha-... I-... ye-... tha' doesn'-...!" Wavedancer sighed, rubbing her temple with a hoof, "Forget it... Jes'... forget it."
Shawn turned to face Soft Speech again, who was still standing, though with far more curiosity than anger in her posture, "Look, all that stuff I said before about being a smuggler? I was lying. I do that a lot."
"He does!" Pinkie piped in from her seat, still too bloated to move.
He shot her a look, "... Thanks. Anyway, we're not really trying to join up with The Shadow. We're trying to figure out where it's hiding, so our employer can bring their considerable resources to bear and... drive away the competition. But if I ran around telling everyone that, The Shadow'd probably catch on pretty quick."
Soft Speech seemed to consider this for a while, her body relaxing as she slowly took her seat on the chair again, "You already seem to know so much, what do you need Soft Speech for?" She crossed her arms.
"He be a genuine, Zebra-trained psychic, ye know." Wavedancer chirped.
The statement got her an incredulous look from the minotaur, but Soft Speech eventually simply shook her head and shrugged in response.
"Look," Shawn started, "You were working with Gilda on some sort of rebellion, right? And you specialize in dealing secrets in a city where everyone's hiding some. You have to know something that can help me get on her trail. If I can find her, Patrius will lead us straight to The Shadow. And as soon as we do, your problems'll disappear faster than a free Doubledown at a KFC. Whaaaat?" He stuck a fist out to Wavedancer, who stared at it in consternation. After a moment, he coughed and put it down, shoving his hands into his pockets.
Man... I really miss Gus.
Soft Speech continued staring at him for a while, clearly trying to make up her mind about him. He stayed quiet and let her do it, knowing that anything he said right now could potentially kill the lead he'd accidentally set a city on fire to get a hold of.
"Alright." she finally spoke, "Soft Speech will help. Now that Gilda's in hiding, you're probably the best chance she's got to get rid of that monster once and for all, little lamb."
"Yes!" Shawn pumped his fist, "I knew we could count on you!"
"One condition." she interrupted.
"Name it."
Soft Speech paused to lean forward, resting her forearms on the table and making the whole wooden structure groan, "Soft Speech is coming with you. She owes Gilda at least that much."
Shawn considered it. On the one hand, it'd be harder to stay under the radar with yet another fugitive tagging along. On the other, it'd be nice to finally have some muscle in his corner. He still hadn't forgotten how easily Blind Rage had handled Dashie, and Soft Speech was even bigger, "Fine."
She smiled, as she leaned back, "Great! What do you need to know?"
The first question was obvious, "What did she tell you the last time you saw her? The last time anyone saw her, really..."
"Hmm..." Soft Speech tapped at her chin with a finger, "She was in a big rush. Scared, though she'd never admit it. That girl had some serious self-esteem issues. Anyway, she told Soft Speech that someone was unto her... had figured out what she was trying to do. Told Soft Speech to lay low for a while and to not try to contact or find her and flew off. Probably to some secret hiding place."
"What do you think happened?"
"Soft Speech suspects that she got burned by one of her father's employees. The Shadow has a tendency to plant spies it's got some sort of hold over in the ranks of the creatures working for it."
"What? They set her on fire?"
"... no. It means someone figured out what she was doing and sold her out to The Shadow or one of his minions."
"Oh... right. That makes a lot more sense." Shawn stopped to think for a moment. Patrius would probably have heard something if The Shadow had gotten a hold of his daughter. Judging by its actions, that thing was not the type of creature to let possible blackmail go to waste. It had proven that with its manipulation of the ambassador.
"She was trying to start a rebellion... but you can't lead an organization without a headquarters. Know where hers were?"
Soft Speech nodded, "She ran the whole thing out of the North shore mansion of one of her griffon friends. Soft Speech isn't sure how involved that friend was... she gets the feeling Gilda was simply using him for the basement. That mansion used to be a fortress, and Soft Speech heard it's connected to an extensive series of hidden tunnels."
"Perfect for a rebel on the go." Shawn muttered, "Alright, that's a start. Take us to the North shore, cappy."
Wavedancer, who'd so far merely observed from her seat at the table, jumped from her chair again, "Aye aye, Shawnee."
The boat had just lurched forward when Pinkie suddenly chirped, "Oh wait! Gilda! I know her!"
------------------------------------------
Princess Celestia practically trotted down the halls of her palace. It was a pace considered unbecoming of royalty, but that was only because those who considered it so hadn't been alive back when she did more than just hold court.
Many a monster had found that she could move surprisingly fast when she really wanted to.
She slowed to a dignified walk as she approached the doorway to the lounge behind the throne room. Apparently, an urgent, sealed message had arrived. Her student's first report to her since Celestia had reluctantly sent Twilight and her friends on an excursion to the most unstable city in the hemisphere.
A quick burst of magic and the doors flew open to reveal one very nervous, young guard. She racked her memory for his name, but found that she just couldn't summon up the concentration to divine it, "I heard you have a message for me, my little pony."
"Ah... yes, your grace."
She could tell he was a little shocked by the briskness of her entrance and manner. Still, needs must when Tartarus trembles.
"Please." Celestia smiled, "Princess will do just fine."
"Oh! Of course, your-... uhh... princess...ness." he recovered lamely and passed her the scroll, eyes cast down in shame.
Celestia sighed. It had become difficult to get her subjects to even address her by the simple title of 'princess'. The last time she'd tried to get one to call her Celestia, the poor dear had fainted from mortification. Still... the key to winning a war was perseverance. Whether it was against monsters or ideas.
"Thank you." Smiling softly, she reached out with a wing and carefully raised his chin to meet his eyes, "You did well, guardspony. You may take your leave."
His eyes lit up and he nodded vigorously, "Yes, princess! Thank you, princess!"
She watched him bow and back out of the room, shutting the door to give her privacy. His hoofsteps had not even faded by the time she had the seal open, reading the detailed report. She relaxed.
Most of it was an account of Twilight's arrival, as well as a short-hand transcript of the conversations captain Aegis Fidelis had held with general Rex of the Cauldron city guard. Those proved to be particularly interesting, hinting at a past friendship that even she had not been aware of.
Nothing too out of the ordinary here. Looks like Shawn and Pinkamena arrived safely and are...
Then she got to the encounter. Her eyes widened as they scanned the dispassionate account of the pursuit, and the ensuing-
"Fire!? Oh dear..."
She flinched at Rainbow Dash's account of Shawn's chosen method of escape, then sighed in dismay at the final damage tally. She'd have to dig into her personal coffers for this one... her subjects should not have to pay for damages caused by her agent.
The thought of Shawn's actions, which were essentially on her behalf, summoned a spark of genuine irritation. Again, an emotion no pony or creature had managed to elicit from her in several centuries. In a perverse way, it was kind of refreshing.
Celestia chuckled wryly to herself. Even in the process of annoying her, he still managed to raise her spirits.
After she finished reading, Celestia carefully rolled the scroll back up and turned to leave the room. Her sister would need to be notified of these new developments. They'd both need to put certain plans into motion faster than they'd originally thought.
-----------------------------------------------
Shawn found himself standing at the back entrance of a rather confusing building.
It was designed in such a way as to give the impression that someone who'd been trying to build a castle, had changed their minds halfway through and finished it as a charming villa. He'd be impressed by the dichotomy if he had any real idea of what castles or villas were really supposed to look like. Or what dichotomy meant.
Still, what he did know, was that it looked weird. Stone crenelations clashed with white-washed, low walls. An ominous central fortress was surrounded by wooden out-buildings painted in soft, earthy tones. And the whole thing was surrounded by a strange mixture of overgrown forest interspersed with random flower gardens.
The back entrance was a little iron gate with a pull-string, probably connected to a bell in the servant's quarters or something. Soft Speech reached out and pulled it several times in a pattern, then repeated the process. Wavedancer stood at the back, keeping a lookout for them.
"That's a nifty jingle, why does it sound familiar?" Pinkie piped in from her seat on the ground. Fortunately, she'd heeded Wavedancer's advice against flying (especially upside down) after such a big meal. Shawn really didn't want to see how that scenario would play out.
"I still can't believe you didn't recognize the only griffon you'd ever met before coming here." Shawn grumbled.
Pinkie shrugged, "She looks a lot different than the last time I saw her. I never forget a face! Or a birthday! Unless it changes a lot. But birthdays don't really change, so I guess I really never forget a birthday!"
The door opened before Shawn could think of a response... not that he was certain there was anything he could have said to that.
"Hey, Glida! Where've you bee-... oh..." The scruffy griffon that emerged was male, and not quite full grown by the look of it. Or he was and all the griffons Shawn had met so far had been big for their species.
"Hello, Gunther." Soft Speech responded, tilting her head in his direction, "Can we come in?"
"Sure..." Gunther squeaked, his voice broken by the distinct crackle of a boy recently gone through puberty, "hey... uhh... you wouldn't happen to have seen Gilda around, would ya?"
"We're looking for her, in fact." Shawn stepped around Soft Speech's massive frame, extending his hand and meeting the griffon's eyes, "Shawn Skywalker, at your service. And the pegasus over there is my partner, Ewan Kenobi. We're the newest addition to your crack team of rebel fighters."
Gunther winced away from the eye contact, immediately hunching his shoulders in what might have been an attempt to make himself look smaller. Still, to his credit, he reached out and touched Shawn's fist with his own claws.
"Oh... nice to meet you, I guess. Too bad you haven't seen 'er. It's kinda boring when she's not around. You guys her friends from... you know...?"
Soft Speech sighed and rolled her eyes, "Yes, they are with Soft Speech, Gunther. Can you take us to the basement? We need to take care of something for Gilda."
"Yeah, sure. Uhh... one second." Gunther ducked his head back through the gate and peered around, "Okay, coast is clear. Follow me."
Shawn called Wavedancer over, and the group made their way into the fortress-cum-villa. Rough carpeting covered the presumably wooden floors of the first few rooms, before they found themselves shoving aside a heavy bookcase and heading down a set of stone steps built into the wall behind it. They wound downwards for a while, long enough that he briefly lost track of time.
He was impressed at Soft Speech's apparent lack of claustrophobia... her shoulders almost scraped the walls on either side, and she had to keep her head low to prevent her horns from actually scraping the ceiling.
Eventually, they emerged into a large room. Tall enough for Soft Speech to stand comfortably, and packed full shelves lined with all kind of tools and even some weapons and armor. A curious looking contraption Shawn recognized as a printing press from his time at the museum sat in a corner, its back to the wall.
"Here it is... Headquarters or whatever. I'll... uhhh... be upstairs. You guys let me know if you need anything."
Wavedancer eyed the kid as he clambered back up the stairs, "That Gilda's got 'im wrapped in 'er claws." she commented.
Soft Speech shrugged, "She's always been willing to do whatever it took to get what she wanted. In this case, what she wants is to get rid of The Shadow."
Pinkie, apparently already feeling better from the walk, began to flit around the room, literally picking up and playing with anything that wasn't nailed down or a weapon. Even she knew better than to fiddle around with a spear.
Shawn let her go at it for now. It's not like there was anything particularly breakable from what he could see. In fact, there didn't seem to be much of anything interesting at all.
"Getting anything, Mr. psychic?" Soft Speech quipped from her spot in the middle of the room.
He grunted and stepped forward to examine that printing press. There was something... off about it. If he could just...
"Heh." Shawn chuckled with a grin as his hands rose to his temples, "As a matter of fact, I am getting something!"
Pinkie dropped a helmet and flew over to him along with Wavedancer, who actually looked a little excited. He was starting to suspect that she had a thing for the occult. Although... in this dimension maybe it might be more appropriate to say 'the unusually magical'. On impulse, he decided to indulge her a little.
Soft Speech walked over with both eyebrows raised.
"Oh!" he exclaimed, slamming his eyes shut and sticking his left hand out dramatically, "The spirits of the earth! They speak to me!"
Shawn spun in place a few times, before getting down on his knees and putting his ear to the ground, "What's that ground? Something about a dress?"
"Oh, come on..." Soft Speech muttered, crossing her arms.
"No... no..." Shawn squinted and stood back up, "Their voices are too quiet. I need a focus!"
"Oooo! Me! Me! Pick me!" Pinkie hopped up and down waving her hoof.
Shawn stepped forward and put a hand on her head, then quickly drew it back, "Sorry, Surprise... way too much going on up there. The spirits can't reach me past all those waffles you ate."
"Awwww..." she drooped.
As expected, Wavedancer stepped forward, an excited twinkle in her eye, "I'll be yer focus."
Reverently, he placed a hand on her mane, then pretended to stiffen, and turned back to the press, "Wow! Okay, that was loud! I feel silly now, though... they were saying 'printing press', not 'dress'."
The sea-mare had a mile-wide smile going as she stepped forward to inspect the machine with him, "Whadda ye think they be meanin' by that?"
"Hmmm..." Shawn tapped his chin with a finger, "Soft Speech, would you be so kind as to push on the left side of this thing for me?"
The minotaur sighed and shook her head, but did as he asked. This made the evident surprise on her face all the sweeter when the printing press slid smoothly along the floor, uncovering the darkened entrance to a large tunnel.
Pinkie floated up near his ear while Softy and Wavedancer inspected the entrance in wonder, "So... how'd you really know?" she whispered.
Rather than say anything, Shawn stuck a foot out and tapped on the floor next to the machine. Darkened lines scuffed the floor where the heavy printing press scraped along, marking its path of movement.
The pegasus's mouth formed into an 'O' of revelation. She grinned happily, clapping him in the back with a congratulatory hoof and flying into the entrance, "It's dark!" she exclaimed, "I wonder where it goes?"
"One way to find out." Shawn stepped forward past Softy and Wavedancer, the first of whom shot him a newly respectful glance.
"Sorry Soft Speech doubted you, little lamb. You have a rare talent." she admitted.
"Told ye." Wavedancer muttered just loudly enough to be heard, then trotted to the front of the group and lit her horn with a magical glow.
They walked for a while, the sea-mare leading the way, Shawn and Pinkie close behind, and Soft speech bringing up the rear. As large as the tunnel was, there was no room for anything bigger than a cat to walk next to the minotaur. In spite of Soft Speech's earlier assertions of a 'network' of tunnels, they ran into nothing resembling a corner or turn-off. Merely a long, straight, featureless pathway beneath what Shawn assumed were the streets of the North shore.
Eventually, they reached a set of rough-cut stairs heading upwards at a low angle, a pinpoint of light ahead indicating the end of their underground journey. Shawn emerged, blinking, into what appeared to be another forest. Or perhaps the same one they'd seen before. Apparently, they'd emerged from the ivy-covered side of a stone bridge spanning a wide ditch.
Whatever the case, this was not what Shawn had been expecting. He wondered if Gilda had even come this way at all...
A heavy, gruff voice suddenly drew his eyes to the side, "Hey, look! More of 'em!"
Diamond dogs. Half a dozen of them, in city-guard armor and carrying spears, emerged from the nearby tree cover. Wavedancer grunted in surprise, turning her glowing horn to face the encroaching squad of hunting dogs.
"I knew waitin' around a couple days would net us a few more!" The same dog who'd spoken before stepped forward. He looked sort of like a beagle, and wore a distinctly smug grin as he strutted forward, spear at his side, "Alright you bunch 'a idjits. Give up now and we won't have ta hurt ya... much."
Shawn stared back at him, eyebrows furrowed. There was no way his group could outrun them... but maybe if they let themselves get captured they could-
A spear interrupted his train of thought as it whizzed within inches of his right cheek, flying past him and into the darkness of the tunnel. Belatedly, Shawn yelped and crouched, his hands up in the air, "Jesus! Okay, we give up! Just don't throw anything else at me!"
The dogs, however, weren't listening. Their eyes were trained on something behind him, trailing up and up as something cast a long shadow over his crouching form.
Shawn looked up to see Soft Speech yank the tip of the spear, spattered with a little blood, from her shoulder and scowl at it disdainfully. Her arm flexed, and the thick, wooden haft cracked, then shattered in her grip.
"You've made Soft Speech angry." she stated tonelessly as she dropped the remains of the spear from her hand, "You won't like Soft Speech when she's angry."
Her hooves shook the ground as she stomped forward, and then there was only howling.