//------------------------------// // 35. Enemies of the State // Story: Love, Sugar, and Sails // by DSNesmith //------------------------------// The slopes of the volcano throbbed with dull heat. Zanaya wiped her forehead, pulling away her sweaty hoof. A quick glance over her shoulder assured her that her followers were still keeping pace. Captain Petalbloom still had some composure, but the two ambassadors were looking haggard. Zanaya restrained an exasperated tch. It was likely the two didn’t get much exercise in their day-to-day, let alone climb mountains. She couldn’t blame them for not having a soldier’s constitution; yet their slowness could cost them everything. The group was only halfway up the volcano path, and night had already fallen. Zanaya could see the facility up ahead, a small smudge of black-on-deeper-black nearly hidden by the hazy clouds of thick, choking smog rolling down ceaselessly from the caldera a half mile above. The green pillar of the smoke signal continued to glow above, flames rising within the column like an imitation of the fiery mountain beneath. “Can we pick up the pace?” she asked, unable to resist. Rye, panting, made a noncommittal grunt. “Trying.” Tatius was less amenable. “I’m not a horse, you maniac. I have my limits.” The collar of his prisoner's smock was soaked with sweat. Zanaya nearly offered to go on ahead with Petalbloom, but she knew full well that the only one with any chance of convincing the Marquis to come with them was Strudel. Zahira would throw the rest of them in chains on sight, but the appearance of a vanished ambassador would give her pause. She nodded grimly. “Just keep moving, Ambassadors. It’s been hours since the attack, we’re running out of time.” “How much further?” asked Tatius hoarsely. “Not far,” said Zanaya, eyeing the facility. “I expect they’ll be watching the entrance, so we’ll be coming at it from the left side. The night darkness and that cloud of smog will give us a chance to reach the walls unnoticed. Tatius, will you be able to get us over the walls?” “My wings aren’t tired,” he snapped. “So I can carry you over unless you walk my legs off.” Zanaya wisely pursed her lips and remained quiet. They continued their upward trudge in silence. It was hot up here, despite the altitude. The black ash beneath their hooves and claws radiated warmth, and the enormous mass of the volcano blocked the southerly winds that would have carried away the island humidity. Zanaya desperately wanted a cool drink, but none of them had had time to bring water flasks. Tatius’s manacles, tied around her neck, clanked with every step. She wasn’t sure they’d manage to capture Zireena, but she wanted to be prepared. Nearly a quarter of an hour later, they finally reached the walls of the abandoned research facility. The great monolithic barrier stood darkly in the night, soot-black stone reflecting nothing, lit only by the faint moonlight and the blazing green flames on the tallest tower in the center of the complex. Zanaya stared up at the top of the tower, watching the enormous pile of wood burn. The fuel had to be nearly exhausted by now, but the damage had long been done. She could see shapes moving on top of the building through the smog. Milliden and Zireena, perhaps? Or was the Marquis still allowed to walk, Zireena not showing her traitorous colors until the arrival of the pirates? Perversely, their job would be easier if the Commissioner had already turned on Zahira. But not if they’d killed her. We took too long, thought Zanaya, her heart thumping. She flattened up against the wall, motioning for the others to follow suit. “I was here a week ago, during the investigation. I know how we can get up to that signal fire. Zahira has to be up there, tied up or not. Tatius, time to stretch those wings of yours.”  Petalbloom glanced up. “I saw five guards on the walls while we approached. Do you think they’ll have more inside?” “That’s how many Zireena took with her when Wheatie and I last saw her. I doubt she brought many more, this was a stealthy operation. And they wouldn’t be guarding the inside, just the walls.” The griffon sighed wearily. “All right, we’ll go one at a time. But they’ll spot us easily if they look this way.” “You need a distraction,” said Petalbloom, with a tired grin. “I’m afraid I won’t be much help inside with the Marquis, but I can buy you a window to speak with her.” Rye frowned. “Captain, they’ll kill you.” “Not if they can’t catch me,” she said. “We don’t have time to argue. Ambassador Gableclaw, are you ready?” Tatius stretched his wings, shaking off some soot. “As ready as I can be, I suppose.” Zanaya gave Petalbloom a curt nod. “Good luck, Captain.” The orchid-purple mare gave her a wry salute. “You may want to save some luck for yourself, Detective.” She turned and cantered away toward the facility’s gate, disappearing around the curve of the wall. A few moments later, her voice rang out in the darkness. “I know you’re in here, Zahira!” Tatius suddenly burst into motion, leaping over Rye’s back. His claws slid under the pony’s forelegs and hauled him upward. The two rose with the quiet beating of wings and vanished over the wall. Zanaya waited for a yelled alarm, but none came. From the direction of the gate, there was shouting in Zebrillic. A voice she recognized as Sergeant Zebbin, one of her superiors, barked orders to pursue the intruder. Distantly, she could hear the gates creaking open. Petalbloom gave another holler. “I’ll run to let the Watch know you’re being held prisoner, Marquis! Wait for me!” There were some dismayed cries from the guards at the prospect of an escaping witness. Zanaya bit her lip. Be fast, Captain. Pinpricks of torchlight appeared as several of the guards raced out after Petalbloom. They charged down the volcano slope, heading for the city. Zanaya blinked in surprise. The Captain had drawn all five of them out, leaving no one left to guard the facility besides the Commissioner herself. That was against every security procedure she’d ever seen. Of course, they weren’t actually here to ensure the Marquis’ security. Did the all-out pursuit mean that Zahira was already dead? A shadow fell across Zanaya, and she looked up in panic to see who’d discovered her, but it was only Tatius. He hoisted her aloft, and they were over the wall in moments. They landed with relative stealth beside Rye, whose yellow robes were becoming caked in black soot. She nodded to both of them, and motioned for them to follow. Weaving through the squat stone structures, they made their way to the tower. The door at the bottom was barred from within, but many of the windows above had been shattered open by vandals decades ago. Tatius groaned at the sight. Zanaya couldn't help but grin at his dismay. “Good thing we brought you along,” she muttered, as he lifted her up through a broken glass pane on the fourth floor. Careful not to cut herself on the shards, she slipped inside. Rye joined her moments later. Zanaya pointed to the nearby stairwell. “Tatius, get downstairs and unlock that door. We may need to make a quick exit with Zahira, and you can’t carry three of us down in time. Wait for our signal to join us; we don’t want to alarm the Marquis any more than necessary.” The griffon nodded and took off down the stairwell. Zanaya turned to Rye, adjusting her hoof-mace. “You ready for this, Ambassador?” Rye nodded, fidgeting with the clasp of his robes. Together, they ran up the stairs, heading for the roof. Above, they heard a voice. “What’s going on down there?” Both of them froze, before giving sighs of relief at the unmistakable curt tone of the Marquis. Commissioner Zireena’s voice responded, and Zanaya’s eyes narrowed. “Some trouble at the gate. Hard to tell through this smog, but it looked like a pony. The Equestrians might be making an assassination attempt, Marquis.” “Or they’re here for Milliden.” Zahira gave a nervous whinny. “No one was supposed to know we were up here.” “We collapsed the tunnel to ensure none could follow us in the back way, and they won’t be getting in through that gate. Relax.” “We should move. There might be more of them.” There was a hacking cough. “Besides, I wouldn’t mind getting out of this smog.” Zanaya and Rye had nearly reached the top of the stairwell. They crept along as quietly as possible, the ash on the stairs muffling their hoofsteps.  “Not yet,” soothed Zireena. “The guards will catch the Equestrian soon enough, and we’ll remain secure. Your safety is of utmost importance.” “Why take the risk? What do we have to gain by standing around in this blighted eyesore besides a prime view of my city burning to the ground?” Zahira growled in frustration. “How did this bastard—” there was the sound of a hoof kicking somepony, and a muffled grunt of pain, “—get out of his cell? And I thought this damnable woodpile was supposed to have been dismantled exactly to prevent this.” “I expect his treasonous Equestrian colleagues let him out of prison,” said Zireena. “Detective Zanaya and that pegasus soldier, perhaps. As for the wood, it was being removed, but it wasn’t a high priority with him already locked up.” Zanaya and Rye reached the roof exit at last. They paused for a moment, sharing nods. Rye took a deep breath, then walked forward out onto the roof. As they stepped out into the thick, smoky air, Zanaya took in the situation in a split-second. The two zebras were standing side by side at the edge of the building, looking out north toward the city below. To the right, the massive pile of lumber still burned, all of the logs covered in some mysterious alchemical powder that burned bright green, lending the smoke its distinctive color. Milliden himself lay in a huddled lump between the zebras and the pyre, his hooves bound with rope and his mouth gagged with a torn-off strip of his own robes. At the sight of the newcomers, his eyes widened and he began making muted sounds of alarm through his gag. Zahira and Zireena whipped around, and Zanaya had the gratification of seeing their jaws drop in unison. “Strudel?” asked Zahira, in disbelief. “Assassins!” barked Zireena, stepping between the Marquis and her rescuers. “Stand back, Zahira! I’ll protect you.” Rye held up a hoof. “Calm down, Marquis Zahira. We’re not here to harm you.” “I told you,” stammered Zahira, her eyes filled with fear. “I told you we should have moved. What do you want, Strudel?” Zireena snarled. “The island. The ponies and their camel allies will stop at nothing to take it from you, Marquis.” “Quiet, traitor,” spat Zanaya. Zireena’s eyes flashed for the briefest moment with some strange, unreadable emotion. Recognition? Anger? Regret? Some sort of vicious satisfaction? Zahira’s eyes darted between Rye and Zanaya. “I trusted Celestia. For years, we’ve been each other’s best trading partners and military allies! Was that not enough for your sun queen? Does she demand my holdings and my city as well?” Rye stamped a hoof. “Celestia has nothing to do with this. What’s happening tonight isn’t an Equestrian plot. It’s not even really a Dromedarian one. The conductor of this bloody orchestra is a pony named Breyr Veldrimmor.” She shook her head, keeping her wary gaze locked on his face. “A Nordpony name. You expect me to believe that King Eberhardt sent a force of camels and Equestrians to steal my fiefdom? Ridiculous.” With a frightened glance toward Zireena, she took a step back toward the edge of the rooftop. “He’s not a Nordpony any longer. You know him better as Viridian.” Rye cautiously stepped forward, lifting a peaceful hoof. “There aren’t any ponies invading your island. Milliden was a traitor, acting on his own.” His expression hardened, and he gave the bound ambassador a withering glare. “How convenient for you,” said Zireena coolly, her eyebrows drawing together. “Marquis Zahira, if you’re done with this, I’d like to deal with this situation.”  Zahira’s eyes were narrow, but she did not immediately respond. Blinking, she held Rye’s gaze evenly. “Viridian…” “He and I have met before,” said Rye. “I knew him when he was still the Thane of Hoofnjord. King Eberhardt had him exiled. A… foolish act of mercy, as it turned out.” Rye let his head fall. “One I pushed for. I thought it would be better for him not to begin his rule with an execution.” Rye sighed, tapping a sooty hoof in a moment of contemplation. He lifted his head again. “He survived his exile, and reinvented himself as the pirate Viridian. But he’s still the same power-hungry plotter he’s always been. He’s convinced elements of your government and the Dromedarians to stage a coup. The mess down in the city tonight ends with him in charge of a military dictatorship, ruling Zyre as your replacement.” “Elements of my—” Zahira laughed, breaking the intense look she had shared with Rye. “Don’t be absurd.” “Councilmare Zastria, Commodore Zaggrien, and Minister Zylen, to name a few,” said Rye, blinking steadily. Zahira jerked her head back. “What? Where’d you hear those names?” “From the zebra’s mouth, as it were.” Rye smiled thinly. “A few weeks ago, while out in the city with Ensign Tyria Metrel, we were waylaid by pirates. They captured us and took us out to sea. While in captivity, we learned a great deal. Viridian’s history, his plans, his allies. One of his captains, Zevan—” “Zevan,” the Marquis interjected lividly. “I know the name well. He’s been a nuisance from even before the Pit Vipers formed. You’ve met him?” “More than met. He’s the one who helped us escape. He told us everything, including a list of traitors.” Rye slowly turned his head to focus on Zireena. “And at the top of that list was the Commissioner of the City Watch.” “Bald-faced lies,” said Zireena, sounding bored. “Marquis, they’re stalling. We need to get out of here before they spring whatever trap they have planned.” “Those three nobles you mentioned... I've had my suspicions.” Zahira shook her head. “But Zevan’s nothing more than pirate scum, Strudel. Anything you heard from him is worthless. Do you really expect me to believe that Viridian, a pirate freshly exiled and with no army to his name managed to bend a few disloyal Zyrans and the entire Dromedarian Navy to his will?” “The camels are merely opportunists,” said Rye. “Viridian offered to be their puppet king, though I doubt he means to follow through on that. Schemes on schemes on schemes… But the overall plan is almost irrelevant. They’re here to take the city with steel and blackpowder, and your troops are in complete disarray. We need you down there to rally them and push out the invaders. I’m sure you know by now what the camels can do with that Gryphan devil’s brew.” “Yes, blackpowder...” Zahira stiffened. “I’m familiar with it, thanks to your companion’s investigation.” Her eyes twitched over to Zanaya for a moment. “Then you know how important it is that you return immediately. The Zyrans still outnumber the invaders three to one, but if we don’t hurry they’ll be picked off in the bay before they can organize.” “What I know,” said Zahira, crossly, “is that the emissary of Equestria’s closest ally gave—not sold, gave—my enemies a weapon that has destroyed my entire navy. The emissary of Equestria itself gave the signal for the weapon to be used! Now, the other Equestrian ambassador, after vanishing for weeks to plot unknown treasons in hiding has appeared at my safehouse, slipping right past my guards. And you want me to believe these were all the actions of a few lone wolves?” She inhaled sharply. Zanaya realized that the Marquis was trembling with fear. “What knives are lurking under those robes, Strudel?” “No knives, Madame,” said Rye, pulling his soot-stained robes open to reveal the bare fabric inside. His façade of calm rationality cracked. “Please, Zahira. Tyria’s down there too, putting her life at risk for your city. We can’t abandon them. If she dies, I—I…” He clenched his teeth. Unable to remain silent, Zanaya burst out, “Marquis Zahira, Commissioner Zireena’s been stonewalling our efforts against the pirates for years. All the failed arrests, all the botched trials, all the delayed raids—it was her, feeding the pirates information from within.” “Detective Zanaya.” The Commissioner smiled coldly. “So, you weren’t simply incompetent. You’re a full-fledged traitor to Zyre.” Zanaya snarled at her. “I asked one too many questions, followed one too many leads trying to find out how the pirates were slipping into the city, so you reassigned me to the Watch’s petty theft unit. I’m not the only one either, am I? All those transfers out of trade crimes make sense, now. You’ve been rotting the Watch from the inside, all along.” “Madame Marquis,” said Zireena, flicking her ear, “if you’re done trading words with enemies of the state, I’d like to deal with them and begin the sweep for any friends they may have brought.” Zanaya took a breath, her face twitching with rage. “How many innocent civilians were robbed or killed because of you, Zireena? How many are dying down there right now because of what you’ve done? Do you know? Do you even care?” Rye, quiet desperation on his face, spoke. “Believe the rest of it or not, Zahira, you’re standing next to a traitor, and you’re in danger every moment we spend up here with her. She didn’t take you to the most remote spot on the entire island to protect you.” Zahira’s eyes had widened during the exchange. “Zireena…?” “I am your loyal servant, as ever,” said Zireena, raising her hoof-mace toward Zanaya. “And it’s time to put a stop to these poisonous words.” “Zahira, please!” said Rye. “Tyria doesn’t have long; we have to—” He was interrupted by a sudden urgent noise from the side. Milliden writhed in the soot, gesturing urgently with his hooves and yelling into his gag. All of them stared, wary and baffled. Zanaya slowly walked toward him, watching his eyes roll wildly. She reached down and pulled the gag aside. Milliden laughed. “Look to the west!” All heads turned toward the horizon. In the distance, beyond the camel navy and the shattered remains of the Zyran ships, a new group of vessels had appeared. Zanaya’s heart leaped for a moment. Wheatie! But then it sank as the moonlight hit the ships. The green flags drifted in the oceanic wind. “Who—” Marquis Zahira ran a hoof through her mane. “More camels?” “No,” whispered Rye, “It’s Viridian.” “Oh,” said Commissioner Zireena mildly, taking a step back. “Took him long enough.” Zahira blinked in confusion. “Wha—” Zireena placed a hoof on Zahira’s shoulder and shoved her over the edge of the rooftop. Rye gave a terrified yelp, starting forward far too late. Zanaya dived, sliding forward through the ash with her hooves outstretched. She skidded to the edge, but Zahira had already fallen beyond her reach. The two locked eyes for a moment, Zahira’s mouth still gaping with shock. The window beneath her shattered outward, and a huge black shape burst out of the building. Tatius collided with the Marquis in midair, spinning and rolling in a barely-controlled descent, his wings straining. “I’ve got you,” he gasped. Zanaya barely had time to roll over as Zireena’s hoof-mace crashed down at her. It slammed into the stone, knocking ash into Zanaya’s face. She scrambled back, trying to stand in the slippery soot. She found her hooves, wiping her eyes, as the Commissioner came at her again. “Get her out of here, Tatius!” she shouted. Then the zebras slammed into each other, falling back to the rooftop surface and grappling in the ash. “Help me, Rye!” she yelled, before taking a punch to the face. She spat, tasting blood, trying to get some leverage on her opponent. “I’m co—” Rye began, when they were all interrupted by a dull rumbling sound. The combat paused as both zebras turned down toward the city. A rolling thunder shook the air. At the edge of the bay, the top of the chain tower glowed red, then orange, then a bright blue flash as it exploded, a massive gout of black smoke and brilliant flame expanding with a shower of fiery debris. Zanaya stared blankly, suddenly chilled despite the heat. Tyria. Rye let out a strangled gasp, falling to his haunches in the ash. “Those idiots,” said Zireena, in disbelief. “I can’t believe—” Zanaya roared and slammed her hoof-mace into the traitor’s face. Zireena’s head jerked back into the stone with a thud, and her breath whooshed out of her lungs. Stunned, she went limp. Tears made tracks in the soot under Zanaya’s eyes as she stood. Tyria… the tower… she’s gone. Hours after she’d given up on her friend only to be reunited against all hope, they’d been ripped apart again. She stared down at Zireena’s twitching form, watching the blood run from her commander's nose. “For crimes against the state of Zyre, and complicity in the kidnapping of Tyria Metrel, I’m placing you under arrest.” With shaking hooves, she untied the knotted chain around her neck, preparing to clap the manacles over Zireena’s forelegs. “Back off,” said Milliden. Zanaya froze, looking up to see him standing free of his bonds, which had clearly been tied for show by Zireena. He lunged, not at Zanaya, but at Rye. Rye was still slumped in a heap, staring at the flaming wreckage of the tower. He didn’t even react as Milliden grabbed him. Milliden’s hoof slipped into his robes and flicked a knife up into the air. The blade glittered in the smog-filtered moonlight, arcing around to the ambassador’s waiting mouth. He caught it and immediately drew it up against Rye’s throat. “Back off!” he repeated. Zanaya let the manacles drop, stepping back from Zireena. The other zebra slowly turned over on the stone, unsteadily pushing against the rooftop a few times as she tried to stand. Zanaya’s mind whirled. If she went for Milliden, Zireena would catch her from behind. If she went for Zireena, Milliden would kill Rye before she could get to them. I can’t let him die. Tyria would— A sudden upswell of grief stole her breath. Stalling, she planted herself in front of the rooftop exit. No help was coming from Rye. His eyes had turned dull, unfocused. She’d never seen someone look so utterly defeated. Barely seeming to register the knife at his neck, he slowly shook his head. “Run, Zanaya. Get down to the city and help Zahira fight the camels.” He closed his eyes, head drooping. “Let us pass, zebra,” growled Milliden. “Or you’ll watch him bleed to death.” Zanaya wiped away tears. “No.” The edge of the knife dug into Rye’s throat, drawing a bead of blood. It ran down the edge, dripping from the tip. “Move. Aside.” Some small measure of urgency returned to Rye’s face, as he opened his eyes to look at Zanaya. His voice husky with despair, he murmured “Go, Zanaya.” “I’m not letting you martyr yourself,” she bit back, barely restraining a choking sob. “I owe Tyria that much.” Rye seemed shocked out of his misery. His eyes widened and his head lifted, but only for a moment. Then his face fell again and he slackened against the knife. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. Zanaya couldn’t tell if he was talking to her, or Tyria’s unseen ghost. Her chest hurt. Milliden stepped forward, forcing Rye with him. “Last warning.” “Yaaaaaa!” screamed someone from above. Zanaya barely had time to look up as the smog burst apart. Marquis Zahira came hurtling down like a lightning bolt, smashing into the two ponies. The knife went flying, and Rye collapsed into the ash. Zahira and Milliden rolled, the Marquis still roaring like a madmare. Distracted by the scene, Zanaya was caught off-guard as Zireena shoved her aside. She stumbled off-balance, trying to ready herself for the next attack, but Zireena raced past her down the stairs. Ahead, Milliden and Zahira broke apart, Milliden’s eyes wide with alarm. “Wait—” Zahira drove a hoof into his face, shouting “Get out of my city!” Milliden was thrown backward, crashing into the pile of burning logs. He screamed, rolling out, smeared in the green powder. Flames covered him, wreathing around his robes and scorching the air. Flailing, he patted frantically at his fiery garments. He stumbled backward with panicked shrieks. Zanaya put out a hoof, realizing too late that he was about to— The ambassador’s hoof came down and found no purchase. He tumbled backward over the edge of the roof, still screaming. Zanaya stared, dumbstruck, as he vanished. The screams came to an abrupt stop. She rushed to the edge, staring down at the figure lying limp at the base of the tower. The only motions were the green flames licking at his robes. “Augh,” moaned Zahira. Zanaya turned to see the Marquis sitting beside the pyre, holding her left foreleg and wincing. “Is he dead?” “He fell half a hundred meters,” mumbled Zanaya, still in shock. “He’s dead.” “Good,” she spat. Her face tensed in a grimace. “Yah! I think I broke something when I landed.” Tatius descended to the roof, alighting beside them. “You wanted me to take you as high as I could…” “Yes, yes, I know,” Zahira said, bowing her head in pain. “I can’t walk on this leg.” “I’ll help you,” said Zanaya, offering a hoof. Zahira eyed her distrustfully. “You were right about Zireena, at least.” “And the rest of it. We’ve got to get you down to the city to get the defenses in order. With all the traitors in Zyre tonight, you’re the only person the Navy can trust absolutely.” Zanaya offered the hoof again. This time, Zahira accepted it. She helped the Marquis stand. They draped her bad leg over Tatius’s back. “Tatius, help her down the stairs. I’ll see to Rye.” “Is he injured?” Only his heart, Zanaya suspected. “Yes, but I’ll get him up and moving. With the tunnel collapsed, we’ll have to walk down the volcano path.” “We can stop by the Gryphan embassy on our way down to the harbor. We have a first aid center on the second floor. We can get that leg in a splint, at any rate.” “Very well,” said Zahira. “Now hurry.” With the griffon’s help, she limped toward the stairs. Zanaya turned to Rye, who was lying on the roof, curled into a ball. She dragged her heavy hooves through the soot to reach him. “Ambassador, we need to go.” The ambassador took a long breath, his face covered by his hooves. “Zahira is safe,” he said quietly at last. “My job is done. Go with her.” Zanaya stood silently, looking down toward the city and the flaming ruin of the chain tower. “Come with us.” Rye’s chest shuddered. “No.” Zanaya’s mouth opened and closed, trying to find the words. She swallowed. “If I leave,” she asked, her voice a rasp, “will you jump?” His shoulders shook, and he shook his head. “Tyria…” Unable to restrain it any longer, he curled tighter, openly crying. “She’s—she’s—I never even got to…” Zanaya sat beside him and wrapped her forelegs around him in a hug. Chest heaving, he buried his head in her shoulder. They sat quietly for a moment, two strangers united by their love for a shy, kind artist. “She might still be alive, Rye,” said Zanaya, not really believing herself. “We don’t know for sure that she was still inside.”  Rye shook his head, his sobs choking to an uneven stop. “Don’t. Please. Hope… hurts too much.” “I’m sorry.” Zanaya’s eyes fluttered closed. “But it’s true. We don’t know for sure. And even if she’s not… we should at least find the… the body. For a funeral.” Assuming there was anything left after that explosion. She couldn’t think about it right now.  “Yes…” He nodded, pulling away and wiping his eyes. They burned like coals. A new, macabre purpose filled his face. “Yes. You’re right. I’ll find her. I’ll find her…” Zanaya felt a chill at the look in his eye. And when you do, are you planning to join her? She said nothing. Rye sniffed, stamping a hoof. With one more look toward the burning tower, he trotted back into the building. Her heart heavy, Zanaya followed. * * * Electric blue eyes watched the camel ships funnel into the harbor. The entrance lay wide open, the massive chain now resting on the seabed below. The remains of the tower on the edge of the cliff smouldered in the night. The rightful Thane of Hoofnjord, Breyr Veldrimmor, kept his cool gaze locked on the Dromedarian vessels. The flies were all in the wrong order, but they kept streaming onto his web all the same. He was nothing if not adaptable. Below him, on the deck of the Bilgerat, nearly fifty zebras stood gathered, armed to the teeth and fitted with the Zyran Navy uniforms his insiders had procured over the last year and a half. Zillian’s crew were the few remaining Pit Vipers who’d been part of the scheme from the beginning. The others, on the ships surrounding them, still thought this was a raid; they’d sail into the city first and throw the camels into chaos. Under the cover of that disruption, Breyr and the Bilgerat would row inside and begin gathering the Zyrans to fight the Dromedarians. He’d plotted the order in reverse, but the camels had blundered in ahead of schedule. Clearly, they didn’t trust him to keep his word. Of course he had been planning to stab them in the back. Just not quite so literally. Once the harbor was in hoof, he could strike out into the city to purge any nobles not part of the coup. Those remaining would install him as their leader by the end of the night. His loyal Vipers already seeded in the Navy would bring things quickly under control. At week’s end, he fully intended to have Zyre secure and ready to begin salvaging the sabotaged ships.  “We ready, boss?” asked Captain Zillian, hooves steady on the ship’s wheel. “Yes. Send the signal.” Breyr placed a hoof on the railing around the navigation deck, following the last camel ship as it passed into the bay. Zillian whistled sharply, and the crew of zebras below nodded. A modified ballista, already aimed at the sky, was lit and fired. The bolt soared into the night, flaming green. The crowded harbor wouldn’t permit the full Pit Viper fleet to enter, but dozens of the beaching boats could navigate through the debris within and silently catch the camels from behind. All around, the boarding craft dipped into the water from the main pirate vessels, rowing steadily toward the bay with their complements of pirates. They were all heading to their deaths at his command. Breyr closed his eyes and breathed deeply, exulting in the possession of such power. The ability to kill someone was nothing. To order someone to die for you and be obeyed, that power was intoxicating. Breyr gazed at the harbor beyond the narrow entrance, listening to the quiet swish of the oars below. His ship was in there somewhere, if Zevan’s boasting had been true. He’d find the captain and hang him as this coup’s scapegoat, just as planned. But he’d heard another voice that night as Zevan mocked him, the voice of Tyria Metrel. And if she was still alive, somehow, then so was Strudel. It was of secondary importance against the backdrop of the coup, but if there was still a chance to get his hooves on the pegacorn… Breyr felt his pulse quicken. The massive scar across his side still ached with every step he took, all these years later. The games they’d played together on the island had merely whetted his appetite for Strudel. They still had so much to catch up on. Ah, but now was the time for focus. Years of plotting, poisoning, and perfidy had led to this night. He would not be distracted, not even by Rye Strudel. The thane turned to Zillian. “To the boats.”