Chapter Seven: Reichenbach Falls
By Thanqol
Rarity levitated over a cloth and began to soak up the spilled coffee as I stared in shock.
"But Rarity, we solved the case! Twilight Sparkle was the poisoner; we caught her in the act!"
"Dash, I know Twilight," Rarity said, staring through her orange glasses at the tear she was looking at, "She is certainly smart enough to come up with a plot to poison the four greatest fashion ponies in Equestria, but even at her angriest she would never, ever try to frame Pinkie Pie for it. And if she did, which is impossible, certainly not in such a clumsy way."
"What are you saying?" I said, mouth agape.
"I am saying that Twilight Sparkle has no way of accessing the rare and exotic Zebrican plant, "Poison Joke". I am saying that Twilight Sparkle has no motive for framing Pinkie Pie. I am saying that Twilight Sparkle would not employ the Apple family to attack you in the street." Rarity said, turning to face me.
"You knew about that?" I said, having previously hoped to keep the details of that particular failure from Rarity's ears.
"Rope burns on the legs, and yet you still had your money afterwards? It was apparent. There was something else at work there."
"A third voice did speak to me, when I was down," I admitted, "warned me away from the Detective business."
"And that voice is, no doubt, the one behind all of this. That figure is the one who set this whole chain of events in motion. And I have no doubt that we shall confront this mastermind at Sweet Apple Acres," Rarity said, putting away her sewing tools, "And I must again thank you, Rainbow Dash. Were it not for your run in with Applejack this entire layer would have passed me by as naught more than an inexplicable mystery. Thanks to you, I am now certain of where this criminal resides."
"Rarity! You compliment my failures far too much!" I protested
"Imagine what it must be like to please me then," Rarity said with that easy smile as though there was naught in the world the matter. "Now, I shall fetch you another cup of coffee and we shall head across presently."
I had to pause to marvel at Rarity's courage; she was prepared to walk into Sweet Apple Acres and the heart of this mysterious schemer's power, and her only concern was picking which hat she wished to wear. Rarity decided we should walk, even though I was having reservations about the stormy clouds overhead. While I personally had no fear of wet weather, I was concerned for the state of Rarity's hat, and I only just now realize the sissiness of that sentiment.
We opened the farmyard gate and made our way towards the bright red barn unmolested. Rarity was quiet, something I found slightly unsettling after having become accustomed to her constant light banter. I felt the mood chill as we reached the barn and heard only silence from inside.
"Ah, it seems we are expected," Rarity said, indicating a note stuck to the farmhouse's front door. I took it and, as was becoming my habit with Rarity's mail, read it aloud.
-
RARITY
You crossed my path on the fourth of January, on the twenty-third you incommoded me; by the middle of February I was seriously inconvenienced by you; at the end of March I was absolutely hampered in my plans; and now, at the close of April, I find myself placed in such a position through your continual persecution that I am in positive danger of losing my liberty. The situation is becoming an impossible one.
I am quite sure that a pony of your intelligence will see that there can be but one outcome to this affair. It is necessary that you should withdraw. You have worked things in such a fashion that we have only one resource left. It has been an intellectual treat to me to see the way in which you have grappled with this affair, and I say, unaffectedly, that it would be a grief to me to be forced to take any extreme measure.
This is not danger. It is inevitable destruction.
-
"This is he!" Exclaimed Rarity, "Long have I seen his hoof at work as I plied my trade. He whispers lies into the ears of ponies, he manipulates siblings and orchestrates betrayals. Had he his way he would turn everypony against every other, and end friendship between any except himself. A dangerous colt, and cunning."
"Ah, see there is a post script," I said, turning the letter over," "If you wish to pursue this matter to its most inevitable conclusion, meet me at Reichenbach Falls." Why, that is in the Everfree Forest!"
"My good friend Rainbow Dash, I must go after him. To allow this miscreant the pride of scaring me away I can not endure, even if it means walking into his trap."
"I feel the same. There is little I would prefer than to settle my argument with Applejack," I agreed.
Together we walked through the vast and empty apple orchards and into the looming darkness of the Everfree. It towered above us, primal and raw, as though it would consume all fashion, all civilisation, all life. And yet, Rarity went in, like a seraph carrying a lantern into the darkness. I followed. How could I not?
The walk was long, the woods misty and cold. The weather was untended, somehow managing itself with neither the blessing of Celestia nor the labours of the Pegasus Ponies. A miniature Zebrica within the heart of Equestria. Creatures dwelled in the undergrowth that set our manes on edge, but we stayed on the trail and were fortunate in the peace we encountered.
Finally, we emerged onto the hill above Reichenbach Falls. The rocks were cold, wet and muddy. A river of thick, black tar flowed from some terrible crevasse deep in the mountains. It flowed right to the edge where it poured off in a long, sticky flow, dripping like treacle, filling an enormous lake of the vile black stuff. Here and there along the riverside were twisted, dead trees. And there, standing right by the side, looking into the distance was a figure in a dark cloak and hat.
Cautiously, we approached. The wind this high was cutting, and though I was used to it, Rarity had to lower her head to make progress. The walk towards that isolated, cloaked figure seemed eternal, but neither of us were willing to dignify him by calling out to him.
"Are you familiar with the liquid in this river?" said he, gazing off into the distance, as we made our way cautiously closer.
"It is a type of tar that is singular in its stickiness. It never, ever washes out. It never, ever comes off," the cloaked figure went on. "The last pony who fell into the stream had to be shaved bald."
He turned around dramatically, and we got our first true look at this mastermind, this manipulator, this evildoer, this blackguard!
He was a purple baby dragon, in a top hat and cape, with a luxurious black moustache that looked like it was held together with the very oily black tar that flowed in the river. He let out a cackling laugh and a gout of green fire from his mouth.
It ignited prepared lines of black tar we had not seen, and encircled us each with a ring of fire. I spread my wings and began to fly but, too late again, realised that was the motion the concealed Applejack had been waiting for. A lasso caught me around the midsection and dragged me to the ground.
"Got her, Spike" Applejack was telling the dragon as I shook stars from my eyes. "Should I dump her in the river?"
"No!" said the dragon, Spike, said, "That is not nearly complicated enough! Dangle her from that tree and slowly lower her in!"
"Dangle her - what?" Applejack said, "That seems mighty complex for no good reason."
"Just do it! There's a way to do these things!" The dragon said, and the orange earth pony shrugged. In short order I was dragged into place, hooked over a tree branch, and Applejack began slowly lowering me head-first towards the bubbling black tar.
Meanwhile, Spike had turned his attention towards the trapped Rarity.
"It has been such an elegant dance, my sweet," he was saying, twirling his moustache, "I, the most dangerous criminal, and you, the foremost champion of law. It has been almost intimate, how well we have come to know each other's minds. Every crime, every scheme was set up with the intent of testing your abilities, and I was not disappointed. Each trial you overcame, and proved yourself all the more worthy to be my girlfriend."
Rarity scoffed, "Your girlfriend! The nerve!"
Spike growled, stepping closer to the ring of fire. "I am the Napolecorn of Crime! I am Spike the Terrible! I am the mastermind behind every crime worth noting of the past two years, and I have made your career! Without me, where would you be? Sitting at home in Baker Street, unravelling petty mysteries about glowing dogs? No, Rarity, you NEED me. I am the Luna to your Celestia; the Trixie to your Twilight; the Spiky Masher Plate to your Aristotle. Without me... you are nothing."
Rarity did the worst possible thing she could have done to him.
She laughed.
"You! You are a blunderer and a fraud! You pour lies and poison into ponies' ears and they do all the thinking for how to commit the crime, and then you come in afterwards with some petty, small minded and transparent attempt at misdirection. Only you would be pathetic enough to try to frame Pinkie Pie. Only you would be pathetic enough to try it three times. And only you would be pathetic enough to attack my friend on the street out of jealousy and reveal your entire scheme in the process. And you should be jealous, because Rainbow Dash is more a man than you, with your fake, oiled moustache could ever hope to be!"
"Well, we shall see how amazing your beloved Rainbow Dash is after she's dipped in oil and shaved bald!" Roared Spike in fury, "Applejack! Drop her!"
I braced myself for the end.
The tension went out of the rope.
I fell.
I remember reflecting that it wouldn't be that bad. I'd have to stay inside for a few months. Maybe I could learn to sew.
My face hit cold, hard stone.
I had never in all my life been so glad to have my face hit cold, hard stone. And my face has hit stone more often than I care to admit.
"Uh, no," said Applejack, "I signed up for this 'cause you said these two were spies for the Lemon family, not to help you with your creepy crush." She pushed her hat back, looked down at me, and offered me one hoof. "No hard feelings?"
I grinned and took it, and Applejack pulled me to my feet.
"You can't do this!" Spike was saying as Applejack and I started towards him.
"Aw, if it were up to me, I'd let you go," Applejack said, raising her forehooves, "But Bess and Punchy here, they get awful mad when they get lied to, and they been drinkin' all morning!"
I swooped up and cleared away the flames surrounding Rarity with a few solid beats of my wings.
She started advancing on Spike, who was backing up to the very edge of the Falls.
"Stay back! Stay back!" He shouted. He produced a scroll from his cape and held it over the edge. "Stop! This is the cure to the Poison Joke - any closer, and I'll drop it!"
Rarity lowered her head and jumped.
She hit Spike, teeth fastening around the scroll, and they both tumbled over the side.
"NO!" I shouted and lunged over the edge, spreading my wings and catching Rarity in my hooves half way down.
Spike caught Rarity's tail in his teeth, but his hat blew off and fell into the black, bubbling soup below.
Rarity was looking up at me with infinite courage in her huge, blue eyes. "Rainbow Dash, take the cure and drop me."
"No!" I said, struggling to keep aloft. In the old days, I could have carried four ponies and broken the sound barrier all in the same movement, but here, now, with my aching wing that had never healed properly it was all I could do to stay aloft. We were losing altitude fast.
"Dash, listen." Rarity was saying both quietly and firmly, using her magic to slip the scroll into the brim of her hat, and then place it on my head. "Magnet and Shores, they won't survive the Joke. My coat will grow back."
"No!" I shouted again, and yelped as Rarity bit my hoof in an attempt to dislodge my grip.
"Dash! You have to let go, or we'll both go down!" Rarity was saying, her voice more panicked now.
"NEVER!" I shouted, but it was futile. We were inches above the muck now. Below, Spike's feet were almost touching the black filth. Rarity bit my hoof again in another fruitless attempt to get me to drop her.
But then a thought came to me.
"Rarity."
She looked up at me, her teeth still biting at my leg.
"You think short tails are in this season?" I said.
It was with a wicked smile that Rarity conjured a pair of scissors with her magic and snipped her long, beautiful, purple tail, dropping the heavy baby dragon into the thick black muck.
With that weight gone, I soared.
It was no Sonic Rainboom. It was no Loom of Doom, no Buccaneer Blaze, no Comet's Keelhaul. It was, in fact, an awkward, ungainly flutter. My old instructors would have hung their heads in shame, my old unit who was used to seeing me do the impossible would have been disappointed to their cores.
But it was not that the moves were graceful, or fast, or precise. It was the fact that I could do them at all. That I could make myself fly with only half a wing. The best kind of impossible.
We made it to the bank of the tar lake. I clipped a tree as I passed and my wings gave out, and we both fell into a huge mud puddle in a tangle of limbs, feathers and hat.
"Mud!" Shrieked Rarity, pulling herself free almost immediately. She stopped in mid movement, and then turned her head to look at the huge tar lake, where a faint black silhouette was struggling to swim to the shore.
"You know," she said, "Now that I think about it, mud isn't so bad."
I laughed as I got to my feet. My wing was cramped and aching, but I was too elated to think straight.
"You know," Rarity said with a little smile, "When I first met you, I made the guess that you were the Best Young Flier in Equestria?"
"Yes," I said, catching my breath, "You told me as much."
"I was right," said Rarity.
*
We made our way back home, not bothering to wipe the mud off. We laughed the entire way. Each time we tried to return to normal conversation, one look at the mud-coated other would dissolve us into laughter. Laughter so relieved and joyful that tears ran down our faces. The looks passing ponies gave us, mud-soaked yet well-dressed maniacs, made us laugh even harder.
We entered our room at Baker Street together, still laughing, but stopped to see a worried looking Detective Fluttershy sitting at our table.
"Fluttershy!" Said Rarity, "Whatever is the matter?"
"It's... it's Photo Finish. She's been attacked with the Poison Joke." Fluttershy said.
"What!?" Rarity exclaimed, "Impossible! We have Twilight under lock and key! How did she -"
"It wasn't Twilight," I said quietly.
Both turned to look at me.
"It kind of fits her modus operandi..." Fluttershy started, but I cut her off.
"But not her motive," I said, walking towards Fluttershy.
"I-I don't know what the problem is, surely there's not that much of a difference between two poisonings and three," Fluttershy was saying worriedly.
"It matters," I said, coming eye to eye with the little yellow and pink Detective.
"I-I-I-I-" she stammered.
And burst into tears.
"I JUST WANTED TO TRAIN DOGS!" She wailed.
I wrapped my hooves around her and patted her on the back as she bawled.
"There there. It's all right," I said comfortingly. "We found a cure. We can make this right. You’re not a bad pony, you just made a bad decision."
"Y-you did?" She said, looking up at me with huge, watery eyes. "I'm... just not sure I want to be right! I don't want things to go back to normal! Please!" She was outright begging at this point.
"Fluttershy," Rarity said from behind me, "What exact effect did the Poison Joke have on Photo Finish?"
"Oh," she sniffed, "Every picture she takes has a pancake photoshopped onto everypony's head."
Despite myself I let out a chuckle.
So did Rarity.
So did Fluttershy.
And in an instant, we were all laughing again.
"Don't worry, Fluttershy. We'll help you," said Rarity, and I nodded in agreement.
"If only to make sure it's pancake time whenever you want a break from policing." I said.
*
And so ends my narrative.
Rarity, of course, refused all of my suggestions to have it published. She claimed, as was her way, that it was "A poor show of her talents", against "Unworthy or misguided criminals", and "Better consigned to the dustbin of history". I was unable to sway her, and yet, here I am, submitting my poor account to the public of Equestria Daily.
This is not a decision I made lightly. My friend was quite clear about her wishes to remain incognito, and that she was quite sure that a superior case would eventually come along that would finally meet her expectations. But I believe she is wrong. I believe that no case, anywhere, will ever truly challenge the incredible intellect of Rarity the Unicorn. I believe that the casual, low level detritus cast about by her wit is still so above that of the average pony that it deserves fame and admiration. And I believe that sometimes a friend cannot see how amazingly talented they are, and that there is a point where modesty becomes insecurity.
I know my lamentably slow and tedious style does not do justice to the instant wit and flashes of insight that are my companion's norm, and I know that my heavy hoofed prose will often drag the reader out of the story to marvel at my poor turns of phrase or mangling of language. All I can hope is that I have somehow managed to communicate some of the sublime finesse with which my best friend, Rarity, handles every part of her life.
If anypony ever needs a mystery solved, you can always find us at 221B Baker Street.
Yours sincerely,
- RAINBOW MIRIAM DASH