//------------------------------// // Chapter 5 // Story: That Changeling's a Bad OC! // by Raugos //------------------------------// “Getting in might be a little bit harder than I thought,” said Daring Do. Squinting against the orange glare of the evening sun, Max saw that Galleon’s cult had constructed a sizable military-style outpost at the foot of the mountain, a good three hundred metres or so from their perch, high in the branches of a massive rainforest tree. A deep and wide river separated their side of the valley from the outpost, which provided them with some assurance that scouts or sentries wouldn’t discover them on hoof, and the churning waters made enough noise to hopefully thwart the sharp ears of any thestrals Galleon had employed. A ring of mostly bare earth and tree stumps surrounded the outpost. The four-metre-high walls were made of logs; they looked thick and sturdy enough to stand up to a pack of timberwolves or a rampaging manticore, and they surrounded the entirety of the site, save for the steeper quarter that was the base of the mountain itself. The clusters of spiked barricades in front of the walls looked like overkill, but then again, Max didn’t know all of the wildlife lurking in the surrounding jungle. As if on cue, a snake hissed somewhere in the foliage above her head, and she had to spare some attention to grab it with magic and toss it onto a sapling farther down where it wouldn’t try to sink its fangs into her or Daring Do. Two watchtowers stood on either side of the gate facing the river, granting them full view of the surrounding land. Braziers and torches dotted the outpost, and Max spotted maybe three or four pegasi zipping around in the airspace above and around the site, bucking away any cloud that strayed close enough to interfere with visibility. Ponies patrolled the grounds in pairs, and judging by the plumes of smoke rising from within the walls, there were plenty of others at work doing who knew what. Somewhere in the middle of that bustling fort was the entrance to the ancient city, and in all likelihood, Galleon had already found a way in. He’d have no other reason to fortify the place like that. Max whistled softly and shook her head. “That’s crazy. How’d they set this up so fast?” “Never underestimate fanaticism,” Daring replied without taking her eyes off their target. “And deep pockets. He’s got friends in high places.” “Uh huh. So what’s the plan?” Daring put a hoof to her chin and frowned thoughtfully. “I think I’ve got the gist of their patrol pattern; it’s just loose enough to give us a short window to hop over the walls, but I have no idea what we’ll find on the other side. No guarantee that we’ll find cover, and we could be jumping right into a party for all we know.” Max could see the tops of a few canvas pavilions poking over the wall. “How ’bout a distraction? I’ll bet they’ve got mostly tents in there. Bit of fire will take care of that...” “Fooled them once already. I don’t know if they’ll fall for it a second time,” Daring said with a shake of her head. She then cast another glance at the outpost and growled. “Gah, if only they were the type obsessed with robes and masks. Snapping up a couple of stragglers would’ve been a piece of cake, and then we could just waltz in like we owned the place. Too bad you can’t project a disguise onto me, either.” “Do we even know what we’re going to do once we get in?” Max asked. “Not really. Not until we know exactly what he’s got in there.” Daring hummed thoughtfully. “We’ll need to scout the place first, then decide on our next move once we have the intel. Think you can sneak in and take a peep without raising the alarm, and maybe even knock out the sentry in one of the watchtowers?” Max quietly estimated the distance between the two towers and their height from the ground. Depending on the ambient noise and the attentiveness of the guards, she could probably subdue them one at a time without attracting attention. She grinned at Daring. “No problem. I was hatched for this.” “Sweet. Just get in there, and if it’s as simple as sneaking past a couple of guards, just signal me and I’ll find a way in. If it looks too difficult or if the jig is up, scramble and get your flank out of there. We’ll regroup at this tree to figure out something else once we ditch pursuit.” Max rubbed her hooves together. “Goodie. I’ll move once it’s dark.” “Agreed. No need to give them unnecessary advantages.” Daring turned her eyes skyward and frowned. “Let’s just hope that thestral of his isn’t on sentry duty when we make our move.” Max snorted. After a whole day of flying since their little encounter in the strange village, she was itching to get back into the kind of action that she understood. Infiltration? Brawling? She knew what to do. Would be a nice change of pace from trippy rocks and ruins that did funny things to her head. Even now, she could still feel the rune stone tickling her mind with whispered secrets all the way from the inside of Daring’s saddlebag. She suppressed a shudder and swung off the top of the tree branch to hang from its underside using the adhesion of two of her hind hooves. She then folded her forelegs and yawned. They had about an hour till sunset, and maybe a couple more after that before the sky reached optimum darkness for sneaking around; might as well squeeze in a quick snooze before the fun started. “Wake me when it’s time to go?” Daring nodded. “Sure thing.” Max had to admit, the chirping of insects and melodious calls of tropical birds in this part of the land were surprisingly effective at lulling one to sleep… A few hours later, once proper darkness had shrouded the land, they had little difficulty advancing towards Galleon’s outpost. Narrowing the distance allowed Max to make out the finer details of the ponies on patrol, and she’d turned into one of the unicorn mares with a dark, dull green coat and brownish mane to give herself better camouflage in the shadows. She would’ve preferred one of the pegasi, but flying was too risky, and apparently none of them had been given duties on the ground. Small matter, though. She could work with that. Daring perched in one of the taller trees at the edge of the clearing to keep an eye out for trouble whilst Max crept forward on the ground. Although the torches and braziers absolutely blazed with fierce flames to illuminate the area, their overwhelming brightness effectively ruined any benefit they could get from the full moon. The contrast alone might be enough to spoil the night vision of any pegasi in the sky, since anything not directly in the firelight might as well be invisible in the shadows, and there were plenty of them in the clearing around the outpost. They’d felled trees and hacked away at the underbrush, but they’d done little about the uneven ground and buttress roots branching out from some of the massive stumps. That left a suitably large assortment of muddy basins, nooks and crannies shrouded in darkness for her to hunker down in whenever the patrollers came close. The ones actually trotting around on the outside didn’t chatter much, but she could sense their unease at being outside the safety of the walls. Max advanced slowly, creeping from shadow to shadow in the pattern and intervals that Daring Do had recommended in order to exploit the gaps in their routine. Once she had gotten within five metres of the wall, she heard voices drifting over from the other side, mixed with the clattering of tools, wood and stone. Not that she really needed the noise to mask her movement, though. Looking up, she could see the silhouette of the sentry in the tower leaning against the railing, emitting greyish, bland waves of crushing boredom and lethargy. He probably wouldn’t have heard or seen her even without the distracting ambience. Or the smells. She sucked in a deep breath through her nostrils and sighed when she identified the scent of roasted nuts, baked hay and a whole assortment of other stir-fried goodies. After nearly a week of subsisting on wild vegetation, she couldn’t help but salivate at the thought of pinching some of their fare if she got the chance. Focus! Job first, face-stuffing later. After brushing a couple of centipedes off her coat, Max carefully crawled under the spiked barricades and turned her gaze up to the wall. They’d done a good job of shearing off any branches and projections that might’ve afforded purchase for hooves, rope or grappling hooks, but that posed no difficulty to a changeling. They’d even gone so far as to stick what looked like broken glass and nails at the top of the logs, presumably to shred ropes and snag clothing, which could give her problems, but she’d just have to move a little more carefully to avoid cutting herself. Peering over the top, she saw rows of tents neatly arranged in a ring behind the wall, varying in size depending on their function as temporary housing, storage or workshops. They’d arranged worktables, benches and stacks of opened crates around a central clearing where craftsmares consisting mostly of earth ponies and unicorns were hard at work assembling weapons and more permanent fortifications. She saw crossbows, spears, battering rams, support columns, roofing planks... How’d they even get all this here so quick? On the other side of the encampment, she spotted a half dozen carts and even three or four sky wagons parked behind a half-constructed cabin. Ah. The whole outpost radiated a general sense of anticipation mixed with some cheerful enthusiasm. It reminded Max of pictures she’d seen of those towns that sprang up overnight when somepony had discovered a massive deposit of gold or magic crystals in the middle of the wilderness, easily a hundred ponies strong. She didn’t see any ruins, but she had a pretty good idea where to start looking. The whole encampment was sort of nestled into the foot of the mountain, with two ‘toes’ going out at right angles on either side. They’d erected a huge pavilion snugly in that corner, with extra clusters of spiked barricades placed amongst the shrubs and trees where they simply couldn’t build the wall. Probably had strung up the place with barbed wire to deter any sneaking in from that direction, too. Max took that all in within ten seconds, and when she didn’t sense anypony on the ground directly beneath her, she began edging to the side, towards the closest watchtower. Its lone occupant’s emotional output had dipped to that of somepony on the edge of slumber. Like a cat, she padded up onto the top of the wall and swiftly clambered over the guard rail and onto the square, wooden deck of the watchtower with barely a creak. The young stallion on watch stood with his forelegs folded and resting on the guard rails, with his head resting atop his forelegs in turn. She froze when his ears swivelled in her direction, but he didn’t turn to look her way. Simply keeping his drooping eyelids up apparently commanded the majority of his attention. Guess they can’t all be professionals. She snuck closer until she was practically breathing down his neck and hit him with a mind-blanking spell, as slowly and gently as she could to minimise the green glow of her horn. He slumped with a sigh, and she had to grab him to keep him from thumping his head against the floor. She hadn’t hit him with enough power to render him unconscious, though. An idea sprang to mind. It carried some risk, but the reward was just too good to pass up. She gently stroked him on the cheek and neck. “Mmm. Just five more minutes, mom…” he murmured. Max grinned. A mama’s colt? Sweet. Hidden from view by the wooden planks that formed the tower’s parapet, she lay on the floor and snuggled up to the stallion, humming a soothing tune and gently caressing his mane. He nuzzled her neck and mumbled contently with a smile. Max siphoned off his warm, sweet affection delicately. Her hunger demanded more aggressive feeding, but it wouldn’t do to go so far as to give him nightmares in their current situation. She only needed a quick top-up to bolster her reserves in case things got out of hoof, and to keep him out of action long enough for Daring Do to sneak in after her. Besides, the last thing she needed was somepony recognising any emotional trauma as symptoms of a changeling’s excessive feeding. A minute, at most. Well, maybe two… She left him drooling peacefully on the tower deck and climbed to the ground. Quiet as a shadow, she wove her way between the tents and made swift progress towards the large pavilion. With the majority of the cultists hard at work, only two or three ponies saw her on the move, and they apparently had too much of other things on their minds to bother giving her a second glance. She even managed to snag some potato fries off somepony’s unguarded dinner to munch along the way. Eventually, the rows of tents ended, granting her a clear view of the pavilion. It stood roughly two storeys tall, large enough to house the entrance to the— Max hissed when an unbidden memory sent a lance of pain through her skull. Whilst she rubbed her throbbing forehead and glared at the pavilion, she visualised a great stone door leading into the heart of the mountain. She’d seen it before. In someone else’s memories. A long, dark passage that stretched for miles under— She shook her head and pushed those thoughts away before they could trigger another stupid migraine. She had more important things to worry about, like that open stretch of dirt that lay between her and the pavilion, in plain view of nearly everypony at the worktables. A couple of strategically-placed braziers ensured that she had no shadows to lurk in. Doesn’t matter. I belong here. Max moved with confidence and purpose, taking long, easy strides that matched her neutral expression, her eyes firmly set on her goal. Plenty of ponies saw her. Nopony questioned her. Not even the trio of workers that practically brushed past her as she entered the pavilion. The inside of the pavilion had actual pavement, similar in texture and colouration to the black stones she’d seen in the village. The face of the mountain had a wall built into it, the kind that might house the entry to a catacomb or secret passage, but the smooth surface was completely blank. It had no arches, no pillars and no decorations that might signify its importance. It simply looked like a massive set piece chiselled wholesale and set into the mountain like a foal’s toy block just for the heck of it. The smooth, black rock contrasted sharply with the mountain’s pale, coarse limestone. No wonder archaeologists had dismissed it as undeserving of further investigation. Her invasive memories insisted that the entrance to the city was right there, but her eyes couldn’t even discern the outline of a secret door. Just a blank wall, like a mural that the artist never got started on. Max frowned. That can’t be right. I remember… “Something you need?” a gruff voice asked. Max resisted the urge to burst into action from the sudden rush of adrenaline. Two earth pony guards stood on either side of the wall, holding spears upright with their right hoof. One mare and one stallion. Sweeping her gaze around, she saw a massive table on the right side of the pavilion, piled high with books, scrolls and fancy scientific instruments she didn’t recognise. On the left side, she saw a stack of crates with pickaxes, hammers, and chisels leaning against them, including a battering ram capped with a steel head. “They told me I was needed here,” she said as she trotted forward. “Said the boss had a new task for me.” The pair of guards glanced at each other, radiating mild confusion. No suspicion, meaning that it was either normal for her disguise’s original counterpart to be there, or the cultists didn’t all recognise one another by sight. “Brother Turntable didn’t mention anything,” said the mare, frowning as she turned back to Max. “I thought we were done hacking at the door already. Aren’t you supposed to come with Sister Firestar?” So there is a door. Max rolled her eyes. “Typical. Guess I’ll go and look for her. Nopony ever gives me specifics around here.” “Right. Whatever.” Just before retreating through the entrance, she gave the wall a parting glance and noticed that it wasn’t quite so smooth, after all. A few sharp but shallow grooves marred the black rock, probably due to somepony’s efforts with a pickaxe. Then, her heart rate kicked up a notch when she spotted a little circular depression at eye level, roughly of the same dimensions as the rune stone that she had gotten oh-so-familiar with already. Jackpot. “Out of the way!” Max grunted as a bright orange unicorn mare unceremoniously shoved her rump aside and barged past her with a couple of stallions in tow. They all trotted straight to the table and began emptying their saddlebags on it. She saw a few magical amulets and horn rings tumbling out, along with three or four rune stones. “Charge up the spell quickly,” the mare, presumably Firestar, snapped. “This one’s our best shot. Brother Galleon won’t be too happy with us if it doesn’t work.” “I’m not sure if he’ll be in a position to complain if it doesn’t open,” muttered one of her peers as he slipped on an amulet. “Shush! Don’t let him hear you say that!” she growled back. “Firestar, I signed up to become an alicorn, not an errand colt.” The other stallion sighed and shook his head. “How’s this any different from our old jobs?” “The new world shall bring good things to those who earn it. Speaking of which…” Firestar scowled at Max and tossed an amulet to her. “Make yourself useful. I could use another assistant, preferably one who doesn’t talk.” Oh, hayseed. Max reflexively caught the amulet with her magic and froze for a fraction of a second. Luckily, if any of them had noticed the green aura on her horn, none of them batted an eye. She just needed to play it cool and find some excuse to slip away before— Yikes! She yelped and dodged the rune stone that Firestar threw her way. The absolute last thing she needed right then was going into a trance from physical contact with another one of those blasted rocks. Picking it up with magic might work, but then they’d see her green aura for sure… All eyes turned to Max as the rune stone clattered against the floor. “Sorry, there was a freaking huge spider right there!” she cried, pointing a hoof frantically at the floor near one of the crates. “I swear, it was the size of my—” “Don’t care. Suck it up and get to work!” Firestar snapped. “Stars above, there are more of them skittering in here, aren’t there?” Max flattened her ears and flicked her gaze back and forth from one cluttered corner to another, taking rapid, shallow breaths as she backpedalled towards the entrance. “I—I can’t even with this place. I n-need to get some air!” “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Derision and exasperation poured from Firestar and her fellow unicorns in waves, followed by the sour tang of suspicion from the earth pony guards as their eyes narrowed. “Hey, wait a second. Aren’t you supposed to be—” Max pushed past the entrance flaps, spun around and bolted. “Hey!” Ponies gave her odd looks as she dashed towards the nearest row of tents, but none of them gave chase. At least, not until the guards came shouting out of the pavilion. By then, she’d already woven her way between several of the tents and ducked into one. Inside, she found a grey-coated, red-maned earth stallion snoring away on a dirty straw mattress, surrounded by his meagre belongings, which included a particularly nasty crossbow. He hadn’t even stirred when she’d accidentally stepped on his muscled flank – probably due to exhaustion from labour, if the scent of stale sweat was any indication. Max finished assuming his form just as a couple of pursuers galloped past the tent, and she poked her head out just in time to prevent one of the cultists from yanking the entrance flap open. “What the heck is this?” she muttered whilst rubbing a bleary eye. “I was having a pretty good—” The mare slapped her. “Get your head screwed on right, Axle. We’ve got a spy impersonating a unicorn in the camp – dyed herself to look like Midnight Lens, they said. Get your gear. Daring Do’s probably snooping around as well.” Max grunted an affirmative and retreated into the tent. “Right. Lemme get my bow.” “Hurry up!” After a quick glance around, she picked up one of the crossbow bolts with her teeth and used the sharp tip to puncture and tear a hole in the back of the tent. Just then, the sleeping stallion unleashed an enormous snore. “Axle, you okay in there?” the mare called out. Max spat out the bolt and used her forelegs to widen the tear until she could leap through, coming face to face with the outer wall. Nopony was wandering around behind the tents, so she climbed straight up. Halfway to the top, she heard the mare gasp as she entered the tent, followed by some swearing. Max cleared the top of the wall and climbed down the other side without hearing any shouting in her direction, and after slipping past the spiked barricades, she simply darted from shadow to shadow towards the safety of the jungle, taking care to avoid the patrollers outside scrambling to surround the gate. Unless they’d already found and replaced the stallion she’d incapacitated earlier, they’d have a pretty big blind spot in their perimeter. Hee hee. Amateurs. She only needed to cross another ten or so metres of the cleared land to reach the tree line when she heard the distinct whizz of stiff feathers, on wings tightly pulled in for a dive. Oh grub! Putting on a burst of speed, she lunged to her left and felt something slam into her side, sending her tumbling head over hooves in the dirt. She twisted and rolled in an attempt to break free of the warm body that suddenly had her in a headlock, but the pegasus held her tight and refused to let go. A surge of panic welled up in her chest when the pegasus shifted its foreleg to put pressure on her throat. With a choked gasp, Max shifted her fangs back in place and chomped down on the foreleg around her neck, eliciting a stallion’s pained cry from her assailant. She then reared up and fell backwards to slam him into the ground, hard enough to loosen his grip. Fresh air flooded her lungs once more, and she broke into a gallop for the trees without looking back. Just at the edge of the jungle, she heard the whoosh of a feathery projectile coming her way again and threw herself flat onto the ground. The pegasus clipped one of her ears with his hooves as he surged over her head, and then she heard his yelp accompanied by thrashing leaves and snapping twigs, followed by a dull thump. Max rose to all fours. A couple of seconds later, the stallion – a rather solidly-built guy by pegasus standards – did the same on a leafy patch of ground a few yards ahead, shoving aside a couple of overhanging vines as he did so. His pale blue coat was streaked with dirt, and he had dozens of shredded leaves stuck in his teal mane and feathers. He then spat a twig out of his mouth as he levelled a scowl at her. A broken branch hung limp from a sapling just above head height in the space between them, still swaying gently from his impact. They took a moment to size each other up, chests heaving with steady breaths as they shifted their hooves in search of firm ground. Upon finding it, she bent her legs, gritted her teeth and exploded into action. The stallion mirrored her charge, but he’d barely taken a couple of steps forward before a dark shape whizzed past him from the side. His sharp cry turned into a gurgle as something yanked him to the left, and he fumbled with his footing for a split second before he crashed shoulder-first into the ground, sending up a spray of dirt and dead leaves. Max skidded to a halt as she peered into the long shadows cast by the trees overhead, searching for the predator that had knocked him down. He recovered quickly enough by using his leftover momentum to roll back onto all fours, and Max realised that somepony had lassoed him around the neck with an impressive length of braided vines. A flash of light gold in the moonlight. Oh. With a snarl, he bucked at the shadow that flitted past him in the opposite direction, missed, and staggered when the vine ran out of slack and yanked him the other way. This time, he dug his hooves in and didn’t fall over. Instead, he coiled the vine around a foreleg for leverage, braced himself against a thick root and tugged back fiercely. Daring Do came bursting out of the undergrowth, fluttering her wings to retain her balance. She had the other end of the vine lasso wrapped around a foreleg, too. Max shouted a warning when the stallion charged with his head low, but Daring deftly sidestepped his skull bash, ducked under his follow-up swipe with his wing, and then hit him with a low, sweeping kick. With a quick flap of his wings, he arrested his momentum to avoid planting his face in the ground and bucked out with his hind legs, grazing Daring Do’s shoulder. As she reeled from the blow, she chomped down on the vine and tugged on it to steady herself, right before she delivered a sucker punch to his muzzle with a front hoof. Daring then threw her end of the vine onto the ground and reared up onto her hind legs, flaring both wings for balance. After placing one hind hoof firmly on the end of the vine, she assaulted him with a flurry of front-hoofed jabs to his muzzle, neck and chest. He fended off most of her attacks with a raised foreleg, but his retaliatory strikes were few and far in between, and Daring either deflected them with ease or twisted out of their way like a slippery snake. Daring stayed on the offensive, slowly advancing by sliding her hind hooves forward along the vine, eating away at the slack until he could no longer retreat. The moment the vine went taut, Daring leapt and delivered a spinning kick with a hind leg right into his belly, sending him flying. He tumbled a couple of times before slamming back-first against a tree trunk, hard enough to make a few loose fruits rain from above, and a pained wheeze escaped him as he collapsed onto the ground and curled up into a quivering heap. Daring only needed about twenty seconds to get him gagged and neatly hog-tied in that state, after which she stood still for a moment, panting. Once she’d caught her breath, she sauntered over to Max with a smirk and said, “Nice night for a walk.” Max flicked her eyes between Daring and the groaning stallion. Only when Daring tensed up and raised an eyebrow did she remember the answer to their pre-arranged passphrase. “Not without a good friend, it isn’t,” she said with her disguise’s male voice. Daring’s smirk returned, and she used a couple of feathers to push Max’s hanging jaw back into the closed position. “How’s that for a takedown, eh?” So the eighth book’s climax wasn’t exaggerated nonsense; Daring Do really knows Zebra-style martial arts… And it looks even better in real life! “That. Was. Awesome!” Max bit her lower lip and almost squealed like a little filly as she pronked on the spot. She didn’t even care that the stallion was staring at her with wide, bewildered eyes. “Thank you, I try.” Daring turned her eyes to Galleon’s outpost, where the cultists were scrambling out of the gate with torches and all manner of pointy weapons. She then turned back to Max with a bemused smile and added, “Looks like you stirred the hornet’s nest. Hide or run?” “Run. I’ll explain later.” Max set off at a canter, but slowed when she glanced back and saw Daring standing over the stallion with a knife between her teeth. “What are you doing?” “You’re not going to give us any more trouble, are you?” Daring asked the stallion with a stern frown. He winced and shook his head. Daring nodded. “Okay. I’m gonna let you go, and—” “Why?” Max blurted. Daring threw her a sideways glance. “Well, ’cause I don’t want him to get eaten if a python or chimaera finds him before his friends. We’re supposed to be the good guys, remember?” Max blinked a couple of times. “Uh… right. Carry on.” “As I was saying…” Daring turned back to the stallion. “You just head back to camp and stay safe, maybe think about your life choices, eh?” He nodded glumly. “Good.” Daring slashed the vines binding his legs, but left the ones around his wings and the gag intact. She then and hauled him onto his hooves and gave him a pat on the cheek. “Off you go!” Nodding, he mumbled something through the gag and fled back to camp with a wobbly gait. “Hopefully that’ll be one less fanatic to deal with later on,” said Daring after she’d retrieved her saddlebags. “Little bit of mercy goes a long way, sometimes.” “Yeah, I guess.” “Where are we headed?” “A safe place to talk.” Max took the lead as they galloped back into the jungle, away from the torches and magical flares. When they passed a patch of particularly thick undergrowth, Max took the opportunity to shift herself a pair of wings. From there, they took to the air and wound their way between the tree trunks, back to the river they’d crossed. Somehow, it just felt right. A couple of minutes later, they found a suitable tree to perch on whilst she reported her findings. “Good news is that there’s a door to the city right there, and Galleon hasn’t gotten past it yet. They were still trying to get it open when I snuck in.” Max then scraped absentmindedly at the moss on their branch and sighed. “Bad news is that I had a… confrontation, and now they’re sure to post extra guards around it. We can forget about getting in that way. Also, I may’ve blown my cover. They didn’t suspect anything at first, but I’ve probably given them enough clues to figure it out by now. We’ve lost the element of surprise.” Daring rubbed her chin thought fully. “I’m sensing a ‘but’, there.” “But… we might have another way in. Whoever made this city had a few entrances around the mountains.” Max tilted her head towards the river. “You know that map in the village, the one that crammed stuff into my head? I remember something about an entrance that’s accessible by boat, and this river is the only major water body around for miles. I should be able to find it.” “You’re sure?” Max squinted at the swarm of ponies bustling around the outpost and shrugged. “Unless you have an army on hoof, we’re kinda short on options right now.” “That wasn’t the question.” Max rolled her eyes. “I’ll make sure. Let’s go.” Daring grinned and saluted her with a wing. “Aye, aye, captain.” They flew silently upriver, less than a couple of metres above the churning waters to keep a low profile. At least, until the second time some aquatic carnivore exploded out of the water and nearly plucked Max out of the air. From then on, they flew at least two storeys above the surface. The river meandered for several hundred yards or so, until they entered a valley where it widened and flowed between sandbars and towering limestone spires topped with thick vegetation. Every now and then, Max saw flashes of green lines in the distance and in the water directly below her, like ghostly veins of the world, all leading under the mountains. She almost felt like someone coming home after a lifetime of wandering. Everything looked different, yet the lay of the land felt as familiar as the pores in her legs. She knew where to go, if somewhat vaguely. It just sucked that chasing those memories came with frequent stabs of agony in her brain, right behind her eyes. She spent most of the flight grimacing as she scanned the terrain, searching for landmarks that might trigger a pang of recognition. There! She’d almost missed the cave, half submerged in a cove and sheltered from the moonlight by dense shrubs on overhanging rock. Max shifted a horn into place and maintained a steady light on it as she glided into the wide cave, evading a few sharp stalactites along the way. Daring followed closely. The water in the cave looked too deep to wade through, so that left them flying uncomfortably sandwiched between the surface and the low ceiling. They probably would’ve had a much easier time on a raft or rowboat, if they’d had the inclination to build one. It stretched on for several hundred metres, until she was certain that they’d gone well under the mountain. The ceiling got higher, too – just about high enough for a minotaur to comfortably stand upright on a raft with a few inches to spare. The air was thick and humid, and aside from some splashing and the occasional sputter whenever Daring got a faceful of spider web, nothing made a sound in there. Every now and then, Max saw the shimmer of fish darting around beneath the water’s surface, vanishing almost as soon as she laid her eyes on them. At least, she hoped they were just fish. Eventually, the water got shallow enough to stand in, and they reached a miniature, sandy beach of sorts with an eroded limestone jetty protruding from it. Max landed on the sandy beach and poured more magic into her horn’s light, and the retreating darkness revealed a wall of solid, black rock that fit just nicely into the surrounding limestone of the cave. Another gateway to the city, just like the one in Galleon’s outpost. It even had the same little round depression at head height. Daring landed beside her and gave her a pat on the shoulder. “Nice work, Max.” “Mm hmm,” she said as they trotted up to the wall side by side. Time to find out why everypony was making such a big deal about the Master. “You wanna do the honours?” Max flinched when she turned and saw Daring holding the rune stone out to her. As its whispers rose to the forefront of her mind, she shrank back and shook her head slightly. “No thanks. You go ahead.” “Okay then. Here goes.” The stone fit perfectly when Daring pressed it into the depression. Nothing happened. Daring pulled it back and pressed it in again with a clack. Still nothing. “Well, this is a little anticlimactic,” said Daring as she frowned at the stone and shook it like a malfunctioning pocket watch. A couple of seconds later, her face lit up with a grin of realisation. “Aha, it’s not glowing anymore! Probably just needs a little more juice.” Figures. Just what I needed: another brain hoofshake with the Master. Ugh. Max grimaced whined like a petulant colt, “Do I have to?” Daring chuckled. “You got any brighter ideas?” She glanced at the depression. It did look roughly the size of her hoof, so she pressed on it with one. Nothing happened. Was worth a shot… Turning to Daring, she sighed and stretched her foreleg out. “Fine, give it to me. Just pull it off me once it’s glowing again. I can already feel it trying to get inside my head.” The stone hovered just an inch above her hoof in Daring’s grip. “Ready?” “Do it.” Once again, the voices in her head rose to a crescendo. Max had the brief sensation of falling when the stone touched her hoof, sending her careening into a vast, dark space surrounded by countless eyes. The kinglike changeling stood in the middle of it all, waiting for her. Max couldn’t move. She felt drawn to him like a moth to a lamp, unable to even look away as the pressure on her mind grew. The Master reached out to touch her… Oh grub. No, no— Max blinked when she landed back in reality with a heavy thump. She swayed on her hooves as she turned to look at Daring, who steadied her with a wing to the shoulder whilst she held the glowing rune stone away. “Your horn went out.” Max re-cast the light spell and shook her head to clear out any residual whispering voices. “Don’t you have a lamp in the bag?” “Yes, but it’s kind of low on oil. Are you tired?” Max grunted. “I’m good. Thanks for pulling me out, by the way.” “You’re welcome.” Daring then rapped a hoof on the wall. “Shall we?” “Yeah. You do the honours.” Daring pressed the glowing stone into the depression. Almost immediately, they leapt backwards as a loud hiss came from somewhere near their hooves. Glancing down, Max noticed a thin, horizontal line appearing at the base of the wall just about broad enough to accommodate a cart as the door rose with barely a creak or rumble. The stonework was so fine that if it weren’t for the opening, she wouldn’t have been able to tell where the wall ended and the door began. The volume and pitch of the hissing air gradually dipped as the door rose higher and higher, until it turned into more of a whooshing sound as air rushed into the tunnel that yawned before them. For a moment, neither of them moved. They simply stared into the abyss, waiting. Max glanced at Daring. “After you?” Daring twisted to look up at the solid slab of rock that comprised the door as she inched forward and crouched underneath its bulk, as if expecting it to come crashing down at any moment. She then reached out with a hoof and gently caressed the floor of the tunnel, sweeping it back and forth in a wide arc. Max almost asked what her problem was before remembering the prevalence of pressure plates and wire traps in most of her books. There were few ways of dying more ignoble than getting flattened into a pancake. Eventually, Daring rose with a sigh and beckoned Max over. “Looks clear. We’ll move nice and slow, and if you start feeling woozy, sound off.” Max raised an eyebrow. “Woozy?” Daring’s feathers fluttered in the wind when she raised a wing. “This place was airtight before we opened it. We’ve got a nice breeze flowing in from the surface right now, but we might hit some bad air further down. If that happens, we’re dropping everything and getting out of here. This is one thing we don’t mess around with. We clear on that?” Huh. Of all the things Daring could be scared of… Max nodded. “Crystal.” The clip clop of their hooves echoed softly as they cautiously trotted down the tunnel at a gentle decline. It was constructed from the same smooth, black stone as the door, and was wide enough for seven or eight ponies to walk abreast. The arched ceiling could easily accommodate a minotaur’s height, too. It reminded Max of those secret passages that fortresses had for spies or officials to use in secret. The floor felt a little grainy and bone-dry, and showed no signs of wear and tear associated with regular use. Daring led the way, regularly swinging her head this way and that in search of traps. Max simply followed and kept the light steady for her. After about ten minutes of progress, the tunnel’s architecture changed. They started passing rounded stone arches that merged with the walls and ceiling at regular intervals, reminiscent of the insides of a ribcage rather than a straight, featureless tube. Each arch had a walnut-sized crystal shard affixed to its underside, probably to serve as lighting, but they had no obvious switches anywhere, and they didn’t respond when Max probed them with her magic. She thought she saw them flickering every now and then, but that might’ve been due to her imagination or reflection from her light spell. The acoustics of the tunnel made the wind at their back sound more like a ghostly moan, too. They accelerated to a brisk trot as the minutes ticked away with nothing of interest happening. “Well, this is a little disappointing,” said Daring as they trotted under what felt like the thousandth arch. “I would’ve expected to bump into a trap or guardian by now.” “I thought no traps is supposed to be a good thing.” Daring snorted. “Yeah, but they could’ve at least tried, you know? It’s not a good sign when I find myself thinking of ways to make this part more interesting in the book. This is just plain laziness, not to mention lousy security.” “Eh, speak for yourself.” Max breathed deeply, savouring the cool, dry air. It felt a bit like home, if a little silent. Then, she stiffened and ground to a halt. Daring slowed and shot her a concerned look. “What?” “The wind’s stopped.” “Hmm…” With her ears perked, Daring lifted a wing and nodded when her feathers remained undisturbed. “You’re right. Either the pressure’s finally equalised, or—” “The door’s shut,” Max finished. Daring squared her shoulders and trotted on. “Well, nothing we can do about it. It’s too far back to check out, so we might as well keep going. We still got the key, anyway.” So they kept trotting. The passage seldom deviated from its straight path or gentle slope, but when it did, they sometimes encountered cracks in the walls with dampness seeping through. Sometimes, even partially collapsed sections of wall or ceiling. Probably through natural causes and neglect though, as they could find no signs of tampering by intelligent beings. Eventually, the whispers in her head and the never-ending rhythm of their hoof steps lulled Max into a stupor, and she simply followed Daring’s lead to save on mental effort. When she blinked, she sometimes saw a ghostly path superimposed onto her vision, like a map permanently etched into her eyes. Kind of pointless, given that they could only go straight. Still, she plodded on without complaint. At some point, a loud scrape interrupted the steady rhythm of their trotting. “Kill the light!” Daring whispered, raising her head high with her ears perked. Max obeyed. Her spell winked out and plunged them into darkness so absolute that even her eyes couldn’t make anything out. She stood as still as a statue and listened; the steady interference of whispers from the rune stone made it hard for her to identify anything other than their steady breathing, but after a few tense seconds, she heard it. A dull thump, like a heartbeat. Silence… A distant, grinding echo, like rock and sand. Another thump… A gentle puff of wind blew past them, coming from the passage ahead. It smelled stale and musty. In spite of herself, Max felt the hairs on the back of her neck rising as she fought to keep her breaths steady. She knew the dangers that lurked beneath the ground in the Badlands – feral diamond dogs, cragadiles, even the occasional quarray eel, but she’d always had the company of her siblings to fend them off, and they’d always done so with the aid of bioluminescent fungi or magical light. It didn’t quite compare to being alone in true darkness, surrounded by the voices of a dead civilisation and some unknown threat with a heartbeat that sounded like a dragon’s footfall. She jerked when something warm and feathery touched her, and then she realised that Daring had just placed a wing on her back. No, not alone. Max hoped Daring hadn’t felt her racing pulse or heard her sigh. They waited. When the silence stretched and remained unbroken for a couple of minutes, Daring patted her shoulder and said, “Well, that’s a sign of company if I ever saw one. Can we get some light?” Max obliged, and Daring promptly lit her own lamp and strapped it to her saddlebag. Its yellow, flickering light mixed with the steady green in the passage. “Just in case we run into trouble,” she added before Max could ask. “Don’t want to be a sitting duck if something happens to you.” She nodded. “Yeah, good plan.” They decided to glide down the passage this time. The slope made it practically effortless, and they could avoid attracting attention with all the clip-clopping whilst resting their legs. It stretched on for another couple of hundred metres before they reached another gateway. This one had no door, so they simply glided through without a second thought. Max heard a gravelly rumble just inches away on her right side and banked sharply to the left with a powerful stroke of her wings, but something pinched her tail and yanked her backwards. With an undignified squawk, she flopped to the ground and managed to break free of its grip after a bit of frantic flapping and clawing at the ground. She darted forward a couple of yards and nearly rammed into Daring, who’d doubled back to help her up. She then spun around to face her assailant. The passage on either side of the gateway had alcoves that each housed a statue roughly the shape and height of a minotaur, except that they had much thicker limbs and featureless lumps for heads. Composed of smooth, black clay or stone, they stood tall and straight like royal guards at an entrance, except that the one on the left had one arm outstretched, and Max could see a ratty tuft of her tail hair sticking out of its closed fist. “Did… did that statue just try to grab you?” Daring asked. Before Max could answer, the statue turned its head to face them. Or rather, its lumpy head contorted and rotated in a way that suggested it was paying attention to them – it didn’t have obvious eyes or a mouth. Then, it made a grinding noise like a millstone at work as it lowered its arm, and then stomped over to them. Each step it took sounded like a pile driver. Each three-fingered hand looked powerful enough to pop her head like a grape. Squinting, Max saw patterns of faint, glowing runes etched onto its body, similar to the one on their key stone. Its twin in the other alcove remained dark and inert. “Oh damnation, that’s a golem. You don’t see one of those every day,” Daring murmured as they shuffled backwards. The golem ground to a halt several paces away from them and stood bolt upright with its hands flat to its sides, like an attentive butler or soldier. Then, it warbled out a series of clicks, chirps and low buzzes like a badly-tuned speaker broadcasting input from a microphone that somepony had dropped into a box of crickets and bees. They paused and shared a look. “Must be broken,” said Max. “I’m not so sure…” Daring murmured with a frown. The golem continued sputtering gibberish. Its tone almost sounded inquisitive. Like a tourist asking for directions in another language. Daring suddenly elbowed Max and looked at her with wide eyes. “Listen. It sounds an awful lot like Vespid.” Max blinked. Oh grub, she’s right… Now that she’d drawn her attention to it, the golem’s vocalisations sounded like very badly-pronounced Vespid – utterly alien compared to modern Equestrian. She simply hadn’t registered the similarities to her native tongue because of how thoroughly it had butchered most of the tones, pitches, inflections and speed of delivery. But now that she was listening with that taken into account, she could comprehend some words from the garbled mess. “Ar—chial jeen-ome djeetekted. Foorthere in-oot rhekwired—oo—onverm ekz—s—s.” Max’s heart hammered against her ribs, but she forced herself to take a step forward as she reshaped her throat and vocal chords. “Can you understand me?” she chirped in Vespid. The golem ‘looked’ at her, but the rest of its body remained perfectly still. Silence reigned for a moment, and Max wondered whether she might’ve accidentally offended it. Then… “In-ooot naw re-ogn—iced,” it rumbled back, a little too rapidly for her liking. “Pr—lees in-ooot veil-id orrther-is-shen. Jou-av two-ten echonds –o com-ly.” Max frowned as she tried to parse through that. “Uh, can you repeat that?” “Jou-av ten-halv-ten echonds.” “What’s it saying?” Daring whispered. Max silenced her with an outstretched wing and continued, “Wait, wait – slow down. I can’t understand you!” “Ten echonds.” This time, she heard it clearly. It was— Max felt her blood drain away. “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” she chittered, waving a hoof vigorously. “Stop that. What do you need from me? What do I need to do?” “—ife.” She felt a sharp tug on her tail. “Max…” “—ooor.” Daring’s hooves clip-clopped as she retreated a couple of steps. “I could use an update here!” “Kree.” Oh grub. Max glanced at Daring, then turned back to the golem and mirrored her retreat. “I—I think it’s counting down…” “Two.” “To what? Should we run?” “—ohn.” Her brain felt like it was drowning in honey as she stared at the impassive golem. Daring shouted something, but she didn’t quite catch it. The golem shifted its balance to a lower centre of gravity and balled its hands into fists. “Zher-oe. Kor-bhet –ode enjaged.” Wide-eyed, Max spun around and flared her wings. “Run-run-run!” They fled down the passage at a gallop and leaped into the air as the golem thundered in pursuit. In such a confined space, each footfall sent a reverberating shockwave through the air and slammed into her ears like exploding fireworks at point blank range. With a cry that she hoped sounded more war-like than squirrelly, Max dug into her magical reserves, twisted around in mid-air and sent a green blast of heat and concussive force from her horn, right into the golem’s chest. The bolt struck true, but had about as much effect as a wad of wet tissue paper; the energy simply deflected and flowed around its torso like a jet of water on a solid boulder. She couldn’t even tell if it had slowed down the golem at all. She tried again with a mind-blanking spell. No effect, either. Worse still, it was gaining on them. Their horn and lamp light didn’t reach very far into the darkness, and the urge to flee warred with the instinct to slow down and wait for a clearly visible flight path as they hurtled through the passage. They probably could outfly the thing at full speed, but the last thing they needed was to fly headlong into a wall if the passage took a sharp turn or into the ceiling if it dipped more sharply. “Ideas?” she shouted. “I’m thinking!” Daring yelled back. Something whooshed past Max and exploded against the sloped ceiling, sending a shower of stone flakes and dust raining down. She coughed and wheezed after inhaling some of it, blinking furiously to clear the stinging dirt from her eyes. Daring yelped and banked sharply when another something whizzed past them and exploded against the ceiling again, and Max barely managed to dive and avoid crashing into her rump. She then wiped her eyes and risked a glance backwards just in time to see the golem pull an arm back, swing it forward, and sling a blob of stone the size of a grapefruit right out of its forearm. It sailed past her head, whipping up her mane as it did so, and shattered against the ceiling, bringing down a good deal of structural stone as well. Max did a barrel roll to avoid the falling debris and shrieked, “Oh grub it’s throwing pieces of itself at us!” “Cover your eyes!” “What?” Max squinted ahead and saw her rummaging through her saddlebag in mid-air. Daring then spun around with a flare launcher in her hooves and yelled, “Fire in the hole!” Yikes! Max averted her eyes and scrunched them tight just before blinding, red light pierced her eyelids. The flare hissed and roared past her, then exploded against the golem’s face, coating it in searing, incandescent powder and scarlet flames. “Whoo! Headshot!” Daring crowed, pumping a hoof in the air. The golem didn’t stop. Instead, it reached up and wiped some of the blazing stuff off its face, then pulled its arm back for another throw. Daring’s ears flattened. “Oh, crab baskets.” Max hissed when the blazing chunk of rock grazed her shoulder and set a few strands of her mane on fire. She then threw a dirty look at Daring as she vigorously patted down her mane. “Oh, nice one. You just upgraded its attacks!” “Hey! Feel free to pitch in anytime!” Daring snapped back. “I just thought it might be one of those that navigate by sight. And—is that a fork?” Max squinted and saw the passage branching into two up ahead. Almost instantly, the foreign memories welled up, jabbing the inside of her head with glassy shards. The left tunnel flashed more brightly than the other as she blinked, its trail of light stretched farther into the mountain and connected to a spidery network of tunnels and— That’ll do. She shook her head to clear the wispy afterimages. “Left. Left!” she shouted through clenched teeth. The left passage curved gently, and the golem ground its shoulder against the right wall when it failed to turn sharply enough. Chunks of the ceiling collapsed in its wake, but its sheer momentum kept it going, and it didn’t take long to recover and match their pace once more, just with a little more distance between them. The roar of the wind in their ears changed pitch for a moment as they hurtled through an uneven section of the passage with cracks on the ceiling and debris strewn on the floor. Those the golem simply pulverised as it thundered through the passage after them, but it did stumble a little after its blocky stump of a foot struck a boulder-sized piece of rubble. It had stopped firing at them, though. Max thought it looked a little smaller than before. Guess it can’t keep throwing bits of itself forever. Max’s lungs and wings burned with accumulated fatigue. Her horn light flickered and her breaths came in rapid gasps despite her attempts to regulate it; either the journey had taken its toll, or the air quality had worsened as they went deeper. Daring’s coat was almost glossy with sweat, and her wing beats were getting a little erratic, too. They needed a break, and they needed it soon. “New plan!” Daring called out. “We try to bury it!” “How?” Daring gave her a manic, off-kilter grin in reply. “One-eighty! Back to the rubbly section!” Before she could say anything else, Daring flared her wings and braked hard. Max did the same and grimaced when the sudden air resistance wrenched her wing shoulders and threatened to snap her feathers. The golem didn’t have the same manoeuvrability. They tucked their limbs in and rolled to evade the golem as it barrelled past between them. They hit the floor running, and with some frantic flapping and a few botched take-offs, they went airborne once more and flew back up the passage. Going uphill felt way more tiring than it should’ve. They reached the damaged part of the tunnel in short order, and Daring positioned herself right next to a section of wall that had cracks running from the floor all the way to the ceiling, with a few chunks at the top that looked like they were just a good shake away from collapsing. Max hung a little farther back to catch her breath and gather her wits whilst they waited. By then, the remains of the flare had fizzled out, so they had to rely on the tremors and thunderous footfalls to estimate its arrival. A few seconds later, the golem came barrelling out of the darkness at full speed and swung a vicious right hook. Daring darted to the left before it could pulp her, and its massive fist crunched into the wall instead. It swung again with its other arm, and again she dodged. Cracks spidered up and down the wall, dust and gravel rained from fissures in the ceiling, and the passage rumbled ominously as the golem unleashed a flurry of blows to pancake Daring Do. Max watched, slack-jawed as Daring tumbled, ducked, slid and darted around like a hyperactive hare. Come on, do something! Drawing a deep breath, Max channelled as much magic as she could into her horn for an attack. The light on its tip flared with green fire as she built up the charge, and when it reached critical mass, she unleashed it straight into the golem’s back. The blast staggered it slightly, just enough to interrupt its swing and give Daring a brief window to duck under its reach and flit to the other side of the passage. The golem turned to Max, but instead of chasing her as expected, it simply threw a chunk of rock at her. Pain erupted in her shoulder, and she crumpled to the floor in a heap. Apparently satisfied, the golem then returned its attention to Daring and attempted to pummel her again, with pretty much the same destructive effect on the passage’s wall and ceiling. But this time, Daring moved less quickly, and some of her feathers got smashed along with part of the wall when she failed to duck in time. Max readied another blast, but Daring pointed a hoof upwards and shouted, “Bring it down, bring it down!” What? Then, it hit her like an avalanche. She’s crazy. Gritting her teeth, Max rose to all fours and tried to keep her weight off her left foreleg as she stumbled and slid down the passage. Once she had gotten on the correct side, she dug deep into her reserves and poured all her magical strength into her horn. She’d never been particularly amazing at levitation or object manipulation, but even she could drive a wedge of force into the fissures there and apply pressure at various points until something gave way. The limestone refused to budge. Come on… She could feel her horn burning and warping from channelling so much power at once. It felt like somepony pushing a railroad spike into her head. Her vision narrowed until she could only see the ceiling with green light pouring out of its fissures. Then, the pressure relented for a split-second, and a jagged shard of rock emerged from a crack. It stopped before completely surrendering to gravity, wedged between two larger parts of the ceiling. The passage rumbled as rocks shifted above, but the arched ceiling held. Max focused on ripping apart the two slabs jamming the rockslide, dimly aware of some stallion screaming as the solid pieces shifted, millimetre by millimetre. Her entire head vibrated, her lungs ached and her belly clenched, and then she realised that the screams came from her own mouth. With a thunderous groan of tortured rock, the fissures in the ceiling exploded under the weight of the mountain and Max’s magic. A winged shape collided with her as huge boulders rained from the ceiling and smashed into the golem just as it reached out with a grasping hand to crush her. The world spun. Her skull rang with one colossal impact after another. Something hairy smacked against her cheek; something jabbed her wings; something hard thumped against her back; and finally, something scraped against her whole right side as she slid to a halt. Wincing, she flattened her ears as the passage crackled and clattered with loose pebbles and debris. Her throat felt dry and caked with rock dust. She could hear her horn sizzling. Max groaned and curled up into a ball. She didn’t know how long she stayed that way, but the next thing she felt was somepony gently prying her wing away to get a look at her face. The orange-yellow light stung her eyes, so she scrunched them shut and batted at the cracked lamp feebly with a hoof. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Daring murmured. “It’s over. We buried the damned thing.” Max blinked rapidly and squinted against the light. Daring had a wet, dark red streak running from her left temple down to her chin. “You’re bleeding,” she croaked. “Among other things. But hey, we’re still alive and kicking, aren’t we?” Daring had the corners of her mouth curled up into a smile. She chuckled, then hissed when her ribs and shoulder ached. “Challenging enough for you?” “For now, yeah.” Daring then raised the lamp and turned her eyes up to where they’d tumbled from. Following her gaze, Max saw that the collapse had completely sealed up the passage with pale limestone boulders, rubble and dirt. A single, massive stone hand jutted out from the pile, dark and lifeless. “Thanks for saving me. Again.” Max licked a hoof and caressed her aching horn. Her saliva hissed softly before turning into a puff of steam. “I’m burned out. I won’t be using any more magic unless we absolutely need it.” “Is… is there a quick way to recharge?” Daring shuffled on the spot and raised an eyebrow. “Eating love and all that – I’m not going to have to kiss you, am I?” Max slowly sat up on her haunches and looked at her companion. Without all that reserved love to smother her hunger, she could feel it gnawing at her soul, urging her to pounce on Daring and drain her for all she was worth… No. She buried those thoughts and focused on thinking with her brain rather than the insatiable void in her heart. Forced herself to look Daring in the eye. And then, she noticed Daring’s infectious grin and tasted sweet affection and pride radiating from her. Not the lover’s kind, but the sort that a teacher might have for a prodigious and obedient student. Freely given. Max closed her eyes and breathed deeply. She basked in it, drank it all in. “Umm, you okay?” Daring asked. “Am now.” Max sighed and gave her a weak smile as she patted her belly. “Love isn’t the only thing I can eat; appreciation and other positive feelings will keep me going for now. Just don’t count on me splurging magic all over the place for a long while.” Daring frowned. “That’s it? I didn’t feel anything.” “Good. It only hurts if I steal it.” “Huh. Cool.” Daring then frowned as she inspected the frayed and snapped feathers on her right wing. “Great… I’d just regrown these, and they’re wrecked again. You got anything serious?” Max rubbed her shoulder and winced. “A few bruises. I’ll be okay.” They lapsed into silence and simply sat there for several minutes to recuperate. At least, it felt like several minutes to Max. She might’ve spaced out for longer than that. “The golem spoke your language,” Daring eventually piped up. “Very badly. I didn’t even notice until you pointed it out.” Daring hummed noncommittally. “Assuming it’s as old as the civilisation that built this place, it’s at least a thousand years old. That’s plenty of time for lingual shift. Could changelings have built this place? It would explain why you’re able to use the keys…” Max glanced at the smooth arches of the passage and shrugged. “I have no idea. I mean, I like their style and all, but it’s really… wasteful. We don’t need this much space, and it’s not cosy anymore. Also, it attacked me only after I opened my mouth.” “Where do changelings come from, anyway? Like, right from the beginning.” That’s actually a good question… She frowned as she tried to recall her lessons in the hive. “History class didn’t go that far back. All I was taught is that ponies and changelings don’t get along, and it’s been that way for centuries. Little invasion here, small skirmish there, blah blah blah. There might be other hives out there, but I’ve never seen them. If the queen knows anything more than that, she’s hasn’t told us.” "That's... a little sad, actually. Not knowing where you come from, I mean." "Eh, we're used to it. Got bigger things to worry about." Daring murmured something indistinct as she rose to all fours and dusted off her shirt and coat. She then squared her shoulders and peered into the darkness ahead. “You up for some more exploring?” Max snorted. “Sure, why not? Not like we can go back, anyway.” They continued on hoof. Daring had trouble flying again, and Max felt too battered to manage anything more than a leisurely walk. She took the lead and called on her invasive memories whenever they the passage branched, always choosing the one that would lead to the greatest concentration of more complex structures. They encountered a few more gateways with alcoves, but those thankfully had either empty space where the golems were supposed to stand or inert ones that didn’t react to their presence. The forks and gateways occurred with increasing frequency, until after maybe forty minutes of walking, the passage opened up into what looked like a vestibule of sorts, with massive pillars reaching up into the darkness above, too high for their puny lamp’s light to reach. The floor no longer sloped and consisted of huge, flat and smooth tiles, all black with veins of greyish minerals. Much of the walls and flooring had rough grooves, fissures, powdery smudges and dark, glossy stains. They found metal scraps and shards, too, all rusted and brittle with age. Farther in, more broken weapons and rubble littered the floor, mixed with clusters of some whitish-grey splinters that looked suspiciously like bone. “Looks like they had a battle here,” Daring whispered. “Yeah, but against whom?” “Could be anyone. Or anything.” Daring knelt low and brushed a hoof against a dark splotch on the floor, and the shadows danced with the movement of the lamp. “You’d expect a lot more bodies, though. Where are they?” Max suppressed a shiver and trotted a little closer to Daring’s side. When a metallic glint up ahead caught Max’s eye, she nudged Daring and strode forward to inspect it, but her hoof struck something, and she froze as the rounded object – a helmet? – clattered and rolled away into the darkness. Its dry scraping echoed throughout the massive hall, and she thought she heard something wail in the distance. It skittered too, somewhere off to the side of the hall, opposite from where their passage connected. Oh grub. They stood like petrified statues for a moment. She heard some faint fluttering. Clacking pebbles. Furtive scratching. Daring didn’t put the light out. Max knew she wouldn’t be able to relight it in time if something came after them. She almost jumped when she felt a hoof on her back. “We should move,” Daring breathed into her ear. Max nodded. She’d barely lifted her foreleg when she heard the shrill whistle of something flying over her back with blinding speed, ruffling her feathers in its wake. Another whistle followed just as Daring uttered a curse, and this time she felt something graze her foreleg. The third whistle ended with a meaty thump, and she lurched when her right hind leg folded under her weight. She blinked a couple of times, unable to comprehend the shouting that reached her ears. Daring rushed to her side, wrapped a foreleg around her barrel and tried to drag her away, but her legs simply didn’t cooperate. Then, she glimpsed the rod sticking out of her flank, just below her imitation of Axle’s cutie mark. What? A second later, she heard a repetitive series of low-pitched whooshes, and then something slammed into her side and sent them sprawling on the floor. Daring grunted when Max landed on her, and she heard their lamp shattering somewhere, plunging them into darkness. When she tried to get up, a mass of coarse tendrils held her down, and squirming only tightened their grip on her until she could barely move. When Daring’s saddlebag bumped against Max’s right hind leg, it felt like a vice slowly crushing her bone with the weight of an anvil. Whilst she lay on the floor squeezing her breath out with a silent scream, she heard the flutter of wings and clip clop of hooves. Three or four flickering lights blossomed into existence just a few paces away, and Max realised that she was thoroughly entangled in thick netting, weighed down with steel balls. She had a deep gash on her fetlock, and warm, dark fluid oozed from her flank around the bolt’s shaft, and more dripped from the sharp, diamond-shaped tip poking out of her skin on the other side of her thigh. “You really are making a habit of turning up in unexpected places,” said a stallion’s smooth voice. The air tasted of glee and triumph. Blinking away tears, Max looked up and saw a pair of green fetlocks step into her field of vision. Other figures emerged from the darkness, illuminated by the shuttered lamps. Red coat, big shadow. Blue eyes, grey coat. Fluffy ears, bat wings. Blue mane, yellow coat. Brown feathers. All familiar faces, all with grim smiles or toothy grins. Some of them held crossbows. Her mind reeled. No. They found a way in. This isn’t happening… She tried to call up her magic, but the throbbing agony in her leg smothered her efforts and simply left her gasping and whimpering. Daring groaned. “Well… shit.” Galleon’s horn glowed purple, and Max felt the cold touch of his magic as he grabbed their chins and forced them to meet his gaze through the netting. He then smiled thinly. “Indeed. We’ve got so much catching up to do, my little ponies.”