//------------------------------// // 114 - Nothing To Be Said // Story: Lateral Movement // by Alzrius //------------------------------// After thirty seconds went by in silence, Lex knew that something was wrong. Even so, he continued to wait for Twilight’s response. It was only after he’d mentally counted to three hundred that he was sure of it: no reply would be forthcoming. Although he hadn’t wanted to ask for help, the fact that his message had apparently failed to reach its intended recipient brought him no joy. Quite the opposite, he could feel a cold shudder working its way down his spine, bringing with it a burst of paranoia. Is she deliberately ignoring me? Maybe she heard my message after all and is purposefully choosing not to reply? But he couldn’t bring himself to believe that. He knew Twilight personally, and although he didn’t respect her political ethics, he was absolutely certain that she would never let anypony remain in danger if she knew about it. And besides, even if she was trying to undermine him, it would make more sense for her to show up and promulgate that her powers could do what his could not. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Lex put such speculations aside. It would be more useful to reexamine the data that he had and try to figure out the most likely conclusion, rather than guess wildly. The spell he’d used had been one that he’d acquired on Everglow a few weeks previous. It was quite powerful, able to transmit up to twenty-five words to a particular individual and then return an immediate reply of identical length, regardless of the distance between the speakers. Even planar boundaries were no obstacle to communication. Except… No, that’s not true, Lex realized. When he had purchased a copy of this particular spell, Lex had studied it very closely. Like all of his thaumaturgical spells, his ability to cast it was based around storing the necessary energy in his thoughts, and that required a detailed understanding of the spell’s nature. Because of that, he knew that its structure was strong, but brittle; being able to encapsulate and flawlessly transmit a specific set of sounds across myriad planes required that its form be set up to withstand the journey across potentially numerous planar divides, as well as whatever local conditions at its destination might interfere with that transmission. But that same resistance meant that a sufficient shock could, in theory, shatter the spell’s composition before it reached its destination. Such a thing was still unlikely – whoever had designed the spell had clearly tried to compensate for that as much as they could – but it couldn’t be ruled out completely…save for one thing: if the spell wasn’t trying to reach someone on another plane of existence, then none of that would be an issue. So if it had this time… Could Twilight have gone back to Everglow for some reason? It wasn’t entirely implausible; for all that world’s dangers and inconveniences, its advanced magic would have been irresistible to somepony like her. Or was he overthinking it? In fact, she wouldn’t have needed to return to Everglow for something to have disrupted the spell, he realized. Any major energy output could have done it. If she was visiting the Tree of Harmony, that could potentially have caused his message to fail, or if she had some sort of magical artifact with her… His eyes widening as that thought occurred to him, Lex turned to look at Severance. Could that have been the reason his spell failed? It was a powerful font of magic, enough so that he was able to replenish his thaumaturgy with it; it wasn’t unbelievable that it could have ruined the spell immediately after he’d cast it. Or maybe the Night Mare herself was…no. Glancing down at the barbed wire around his left hoof, Lex knew that whatever else might have happened, the goddess he’d trafficked with wasn’t behind this. If she had disapproved of his course of action the wire would have drawn blood, and it hadn’t. Sighing, Lex realized that there was no more ground to be gained with this line of thought. Whether she was on another plane, by a major magical resource, or something else – inside a field of magical silence, perhaps? – Twilight hadn’t received his message. But at least now he knew that, when casting this particular spell, he should distance himself from Severance just in case. He’d need to keep that in mind in the future. Fortunately, that spell wasn’t his only way of contacting her. Reaching into his haversack, Lex pulled out an ornate mirror. Leaning it against the wall, he stepped back to regard it critically. Although it had been badly damaged during his fight with Lirtkra, there was no sign of that now thanks to a reparative spell that the Night Mare had granted him. A single casting had been sufficient to restore the twisted metal, for the mirror was entirely made out of polished silver, back to its original resplendent state. Giving a crisp nod, Lex quickly laid a few supplementary defensive spells on himself, and then started his next communication attempt. Most of the spells Lex knew could be activated in a few seconds; the majority of the work was done when they were prepared, allowing them to be unleashed quickly. In contrast to that, the previous spell he had cast had needed a full ten minutes to invoke, a testament to the intricacies of trying to send a message across distances that were near-infinite. But the spell he was using now was attempting to create a much larger channel through which information could flow, and so required a full hour of gesturing and chanting in order to utilize. Whereas his previous spell had been to exchange brief verbal messages, this one was intended to create a near-invisible magical sensor in proximity to a target which would allow him to see them and hear what they were saying. Although Lex knew it was meant to be used for reconnaissance, he was betting that once the spell took effect he’d be able to feed a tiny sliver of supplementary magic through, allowing him to whisper to Twilight the same way he did with Sonata, enabling two-way communication. Of course, it was entirely possible that this wouldn’t work either. Part of the reason for that was because, while this spell’s structure wasn’t as brittle as the other one and so didn’t require that he send Severance away, it wasn’t as strong either. This spell’s efficacy was directly proportional to how well the caster – himself, in this case – knew the target. Although he’d spent enough time around Twilight that he didn’t feel like she was a stranger, neither did he consider her somepony that he was close to. A memento from her would have helped, and something like a lock of her mane would have been extremely useful, but he had neither of those things. Conversely, planar barriers would impede the spell’s effectiveness. That was why he hadn’t used this spell first; it was by far the more likely of the two to fail. More concerning was the fact that this spell could potentially trigger anti-scrying defenses, if Twilight had the foresight to erect any. Lex always kept such a spell active on himself – something that was much easier now that he could regularly recharge his magic with Severance – one designed not only to alert him to such attempts, but also to retaliate by sending a powerful blast of electricity back through the magical conduit to strike the would-be spy. That Twilight could have something similar was why he’d cast some defensive spells of his own before making the attempt. After an interminable period – an hour was impossibly long when you needed to carefully recite a lengthy incantation and continually gesture the entire time – he finally finished casting. Feeling the spell take shape and activate, he turned to the silver mirror and waited. For long seconds he held his breath, staring at his own reflection, willing it to change to that of Twilight, wherever she was, even as he tensed in anticipation of a possible counterattack. Five seconds…ten…fifteen… Again, seconds turned into minutes, with no results to show for his patience or his spellcasting. The silver mirror continued to show him nothing except his own scowling visage. His second attempt had ended just like the first: in failure. Normally, that realization would have sent him to cursing and snarling, but this time he simply regarded the mirror silently, barely paying attention to his reflection as he tried to think through the ramifications of what this meant. In point of fact, he knew that this most likely meant nothing. After all, there was no reason he couldn’t simply prepare these spells again tomorrow and then attempt them again. In fact, doing so could potentially offer valuable data; while it was unlikely that both of his spells had failed due to simple bad luck, the probability of that happening two days in a row was astronomically small. If he tried to reach Twilight again tomorrow and still couldn’t contact her, then he’d know that something unusual was going on, either here or with her. And even if it did turn out that Twilight was impossible to contact, that still left Celestia and Luna as possibilities. The chance of all three of them being beyond his ability to reach was virtually nil. One way or the other he’d be able to let somepony know what was happening here; it was just going to take a little longer than he thought, was all. Putting the mirror back in his haversack, Lex started back towards the shelter. As he walked, he found that he couldn’t help but contemplate a scenario where he wasn’t able to get in touch with any of the princesses no matter how much he tried. Although he knew that was virtually impossible – any such situation would only be the result of something isolating Vanhoover from long-range communication magic, and he’d seen nothing to indicate that was the case – he was too used to thinking up contingencies to put the thought out of his head. If they had to retake Vanhoover from the undead by themselves… It would not be easy, he knew, nor would it be quick. They would have to go block by block, building by building, checking every single nook and cranny. Worse, they’d need to find some way to secure a checked building, otherwise the undead ponies could simply flee and return later. But that would require a much larger group than he currently had, and they’d need ways to defend themselves. Lex still remembered how Aisle had stiffened up after being hit by one of those things, as well as how Drafty had fallen deathly ill when one of them had bitten her. Although he didn’t find those monsters very dangerous, other ponies would. And that was just buildings. Checking the sewers, where he suspected most of them were hiding – what better way to cross large portions of the city without ever having to risk the daylight? – would be almost impossible. Maybe if I had Vanhoover’s entire population at my command, and was able to train, equip, and coordinate their efforts, it might be feasible. But even then, it would still be extremely difficult. Far better to lure the undead creatures out en masse, but that would require some sort of irresistible bait… Shaking his head, Lex tried to turn his thoughts elsewhere. For now, the best thing to do was sit tight until he could try and contact Twilight agai- “LEX!” Looking up as he heard his name called, Lex saw Cozy dashing towards him, a frantic look on her face. Stopping right in front of him, she pointed a hoof back the way she came. “She knows where he is!” Frowning in confusion, Lex tried to parse what he’d been told, but there was too little information to work with. “Who knows where who is?” Although she’d caught her breath, Cozy’s eyes were wide, and she could barely seem to hold still, looking like she wanted to go charging back to the shelter and could barely bring herself to wait for him. “My husband! Pillowcase! One of the ponies you brought back, that unicorn mare, Fencer, knows where he is!”