“It troubles me that I could not see the treachery in Officer Cricket’s mind,” Warden Owleye said to Yam, who was now free from his bonds and safe. “This is a growing problem and we Wardens grow increasingly blind.”
“And now, you can see his mind clearly because part of it is a puddle on the floor,” Yam replied and he could not withhold his sarcasm. “Well, maybe, I guess it depends on how much is left of him after the fire.”
“Yammy!”
Hearing his name being shouted by the sweetest voice he knew, Yam turned to look at Azure, who approached in a frantic hurry. “Hey, babe, am I glad to see you. How’d you get here, anyhow?”
“I found this place when I spoke to my fellow burros—”
“If your fellow burros knew about this place, why wasn’t it reported to the police?” Warden Owleye demanded as she stepped in on the joyful reunion between Yam and Azure.
“It was!” Azure’s eyes narrowed and she advanced until she was nose to nose with Warden Owleye. “We burros went to the police, and nopony cared. We burros went to the papers to try and let the press know… and guess what… nopony cared. A number of workers knew about this place. Some of them even took work hauling supplies and goods here.”
Still as a statue, Warden Owleye said nothing.
“This is something that will have to be dealt with,” Warden Dread Drop said as he approached. “They’re about to open the vault. Come on, all of you. There is something that you should see. Yam, we’ve found your missing pony.”
Yam could not help but notice that the agents of S.M.I.L.E. seemed quite put out that they had been unable to capture the supernatural menace, the mystical luchador known as Guacamelee. As suddenly as she had appeared, once justice had been served, once vengeance had been taken, once those who had brought harm and suffering upon poor innocent burros had been punished, the candy-dispensing, bone-shattering, face-rearranging, preternatural force had just vanished into thin air.
It was not the first time that Guacamelee had appeared, nor would it be the last. Some spirits of revenge or vengeance were far more punishing then others and Yam knew that stories would be told from those who had survived the encounter this night. He could hear the various agents all talking about how the dangerous vigilante needed to be taken down, and it infuriated him they were focused on Guacamelee when the evidence of a far greater crime was all around them.
“The vault is quite interesting and it has been reinforced,” one of the agents reported, a lithe looking unicorn mare wearing a black suit and heavy black shades. “There is a lot of magic on it too, we’re going to spend days figuring out everything that was done, but it wasn’t hard to open once we had the key. I think you will be quite surprised to see what is in there.”
“Oh, and watch out, the grow lights are pretty hard on the eyes,” another agent warned.
“Grow lights?” Confused, Yam shook his head. “Some kind of indoor grow operation? How is Miss Honey Dew involved in this?”
“You’ll see…”
It was, indeed, a vault. This section had been reinforced with concrete, bricks, and steel. There was a window off to one side, a viewing portal, and the heavy steel door was open. Inside was a brilliant bright light that did indeed dazzle the eyes, filling the area in an eye-piercing blue haze. From where Yam was, the floor of the vault looked an awful lot like dirt, and most curious of all, what appeared to be sprinklers hung down from the ceiling.
It was then that he saw something that utterly stupefied him. At first, his brain had trouble processing what he was seeing, but his finding talent told him that he had just found Honey Dew. It was a pony that wasn’t quite a pony, but more of a… plant. She had a fuzzy, almost mossy hide, all manner of foliage grew from her neck and head in an odd parody of a mane, and her tail was a mass of leafy green tendrils. Everything about her was green, so very green, except for her horn, which appeared to be some sort of brown twig.
Almost breathless, Yam managed to ask, “Miss Dew?”
“Doctor Dew,” the plant pony replied.
For the first time, Yam noticed the foals also present, and each of them also appeared to be plant ponies. Flummoxed, he stood there with his mouth open, and he felt his wife lean up against his side. Some things, even when seen, could not be believed. Several times, he tried to speak, and each time, each attempt, he failed.
“I see that I shall have to explain things once again.” Doctor Dew let out an impatient huff, rolled her strange eyes, and began to move closer to Yam. “There was an accident and I ended up suffering significant alteration. It changed me. It changed my body, it changed my mind, my entire physiology endured a total transmogrification and I became as you see me now. I no longer require food, just sunlight and water. The foals you see… my captors cruelly experimented upon them. Some survived, some died. The ones that survived are now like me… whatever it is that I am.”
“Your mother hired us to look for you… she was worried…” Azure’s voice quavered and it was obvious that she was shaken by everything she had seen. “She was worried about you and your condition—”
“Since my transformation, my mind feels significantly altered.” While Doctor Dew spoke, a foal came over and clung to her leg. She looked down for a moment—a kind expression upon her face—and then she began to meet the eyes of the ponies around her one by one. “You must be gentle with them. They have suffered much. They have special needs… mostly sunlight and water, lots of water. I beg of you, don’t go poking and prodding them. If you must experiment, do so on me.”
Reaching up, Yam began to rub his neck and he stood there, staring, forgetting everything his mother had said about not being rude. “What is to be done about all of this?”
“No doubt, a cover up,” Warden Hammerhelm replied and her words made the agents of S.M.I.L.E. that were present scowl. “I understand the necessity of it. Doctor Honey Dew in her current condition will be quite a tempting target for so many. Others may try to take her. The foals too. Returning them to their parents will be quite difficult, to say the very least. Every action we take now will have to be done with their protection in mind.”
“It is regrettable, but understandable,” Doctor Dew said, nodding with agreement.
“How did this happen?” Yam asked. “I mean, what triggered this? Keep it simple, I’m not the smartest pony.”
“Troll research.” Doctor Dew smiled a strange smile and looked Yam right in the eye. “I was trying to isolate the rapid growth factor and see if it could be introduced into other plants.” Behind thin, almost lettuce-like lips, she had round, square wooden teeth of somewhat different shapes and sizes.
“Your mother… she’s worried about you and she loves you.” Azure’s voice wavered and she took a few steps closer to Doctor Dew, whose head tilted off to one side. “I don’t know what’s about to happen, but I don’t think this will be as simple as taking you home to your mother.” There was a warm sincerity in the burro’s voice and when a foal approached her with hesitant caution, she tore her gaze away from Doctor Dew to look down at the little plant filly.
“I was a burro,” the mossy filly said to Azure. “I don’t know what I am now.”
“You’re still a burro.” Azure’s voice was strained and she lowered her head down to be at eye-level with the filly. After a moment, she looked back at Yam, and he saw the pain in her eyes.
“I don’t know which one of you agents are in charge, but I want these foals and this mare kept together.” Warden Hammerhelm glowered at the assembled agents from beneath the open visor of her helm. “I speak for the Night Lady on this issue. Am I clear?”
There were grunts and nods aplenty and it seemed that nopony was in the mood to challenge Warden Hammerhelm’s authority. For some reason, this made Yam feel a little bit better, but the sheer complexity and the many unknowns of the situation still crushed him like a cigarette butt beneath a grinding hoof.
Doctor Honey Dew made a gesture to summon the foals in her care to come closer to her. “Tomorrow, we shall stand in the sun, little ones… the real sun. It’s over… it’s over…”
Frowning, his ears drooping, Yam knew this wasn’t true… it was far from over.
The diner was a generic, nondescript sort of place, but the air conditioner worked. Red and white checkered tiles covered the floor and the walls. The tables had shiny chrome accents with red or white formica tops. Yam and his companions didn’t sit at a booth though, no, they sat at the counter bar atop somewhat worn chrome stools with slick vinyl cushions.
The two Wardens—sans armor—sat beside one another, looking weary and a bit distraught. Yam was hunched over his coffee cup and his enormous plate of breakfast hash was cooling in front of him. Beside him, Azure was nibbling at her food, but her heart just wasn’t in it and she lacked the gusto that she usually possessed. Yam knew exactly how she felt and also knew that she wouldn’t feel better until she had pinned him to a mattress a few times.
“Azure…” Warden Owleye’s head turned and there was an audible creak from her tense neck tendons. “You may have fooled the agents of S.M.I.L.E., but I know.”
“What are you going to do about it?” Yam asked as he turned to give Warden Owleye a sidelong glance. When he saw his wife, she didn’t seem to care and her ears were almost sagging into her food.
“I don’t know yet. Regulations state that I should capture you, take you into custody, and bring you in.” Warden Owleye’s whole face sagged with weariness and she let out a smoky sigh. “Warden Hammerhelm is probably going to be shitcanned. She broke regulations and Yam got hurt. I am almost certain that she is going to be drummed out. Probably lose her title.”
“I might as well,” Warden Dread Drop said in a soft, hissing whisper. “This really sucks. Not enough Wardens. There just aren't enough of us and our numbers keep shrinking. Ponies like Cricket… we can’t see them… we should have saw his treachery, but we didn’t. We’re losing, and I don’t like it.”
Azure lifted her head and stray bits of hash browns were stuck to her lips. “I didn’t choose the mask, the mask chose me. I don’t even know why… it just happened one day. There was a mugging that turned into a murder, and I was just so angry about it, and nopony seemed to care, and the police didn’t want to do anything… and my anger… it just… it just ate me up inside. I knew the story of the mask, of course. Most burros do. We grow up hearing stories about why we need to be good little burros and not desperados. We all hear stories, I guess, but so few actually believe. I know I didn’t. I thought it was a lie, like everything else that I had been told about justice, and fairness, and everything else. I thought it was a big steaming pile of burro shit.”
“So are you Guacamelee or not?” Warden Dread Drop asked.
“The mask is Guacamelee… I am Azure Serape. Occasionally, it just shows up and borrows my body.” With her ears still drooping in a submissive position, she gave both of the Wardens a pleading look. “Don’t take me from Yammy… he’s all I have. He’s the justice I hope to see in the world.”
“I don’t think there is a regulation for a possessive mystical vigilante force.” Warden Owleye turned to look at Warden Dread Drop, and both Wardens stared at one another for a time. “She’s a victim of Guacamelee as well. No crime is being committed here… What do we do, Warden Dread Drop?”
Warden Dread Drop shrugged, said nothing, and began to eat his steaming plate of breakfast hash.
“I guess you have nothing to say because you’re probably going to get drummed out.” Sighing, Warden Owleye lifted up her cup of coffee and then stared down at her food with a ferocious, fangs-bared scowl. “I hate everything so much right now! I hate that we’re losing! I hate that a good burro like you might be punished for doing what is arguably right! I hate that these stupid equalist splinter groups are gaining ground and new members! I hate that Honey Dew and those foals are going to end up in protective custody! I just hate everything!”
“Everything kinda sucks right now, don’t it?” Hunched over his coffee, Yam stared down into its black, murky depths. Stomach grumbling and rumbling, Yam thought about eating his food while it was still hot, but eating was optimism, the hope of living to see another day, and he just wasn’t in the mood for optimism right now.
“You know, if there was justice for us burros, the mask would probably just go away…”