//------------------------------// // Guard Flutter, Part I: Above and Beyond Duty // Story: Guard Flutter // by Impossible Numbers //------------------------------// Lord Zinc the minotaur pursed his bovine lips and, with a swill of his wine glass, peered beyond the tinted windowpane to the city lights outside. Everything was dark: the overcast night with its reddish hue like crimson silk; the shadows waiting in ambush around the firefly lanterns and hunched streetlamps; the void beyond. Mazes within mazes were laid out below him. He fancied that he could reach out and scoop up every last alley and avenue with a sweep of his arm. With a quaff of his Pinot Noir, he handed the glass over to an unseen servant and moved away from the view. Light and dark passed across his face while he strode parallel to the wall, window after window standing to attention on his left. Under their dim beams, the faux ermine collar glowed around his neck and the jingling gold nose-ring flashed. His ear twitched; a nervous giggle came from his right. Lord Zinc glanced sidelong at the chair where the changeling buzzed and twitched in barely concealed excitement. His own muscular snout wrinkled at the sight, but smoothed down when he passed the next chair. Here, the griffon Lady Carcarass sat up in the pose of a noble gargoyle, cutting the air with her discipline. Beside her was the standing Lord Buffet, the ox delegate with his horns sheathed in steel. Beside him, the phoenix slept on its perch, one eye blazing open as he passed before its lid slid over again to extinguish the glare. The empty chair was ebony and carved from backrest to clawed feet with ancient runes. He scraped it back and eased his bulk onto it, wincing slightly as his spine protested. To his left, the pegasus was leaning on the round table. Only her eyes moved, flicking up and down as though searching for a rip in his suit. The grin stretched from his slightly perspiring nose to his bulging cheeks. Both hands clasped each other over the table. With a kind of unstoppable momentum, his head shifted upwards so that his gaze beamed across the table, past the circle of heads, and up to the mass of hair opposite that was the centaur delegate. “Unusual circumstances,” rumbled Lord Zinc. “I don’t recall the last time we were all together like this.” Lord Tirek stirred. His four hooves pawed at the carpet, scuffing the blocky figures embroidered into it. Both hands clawed at the tabletop as though determined to tear through the polish. “The last time this happened,” came a wheezing voice from under the hood, “the Lords and Ladies were falling. We must be more careful this time. This time, there must be no fall at all. Disaster awaits those who do not heed my warning tonight.” Around the table, various delegates murmured and sniffed at him. Lord Buffet chortled and stamped a hoof. “Behold the Prophet Tirek!” His chortle, like his voice, boomed and rattled the windows in their frames. “He sees disaster written in the stars!” “Disaster?” The changeling’s hard skin crackled as he shivered and jittered on the chair. “What disaster? We’re doing well for a disaster. Where is it? Where is it?” “If you would let him finish,” said Lady Carcarass in clipped tones, “perhaps we would find out.” One at a time, the delegates settled into silence. The phoenix opened one eye again. As soon as all were still, Lord Tirek placed two spidery hands on the surface, poised as if to strike with venomous bites. “It gratifies me,” he said coolly, “that you regard my advice with such high emotion. Clearly, the Lords and Ladies are not as implacable as they seem. I know on what foundations your fortunes rest, and I know with what force those foundations can be cracked.” Lord Zinc waved a hand irritably. “Riddles are all very well, Tirek, but I don’t intend to spend the next hour listening to them. Can you cut to the chase?” With a stiff nod that was almost a bow, Lord Tirek flashed him a grim smile. “As you wish. Here are your foundations.” His hand leaped into the folds of his cloak, and a block was flicked out and bounced across the table, skittering past the stares of the delegates to halt before the minotaur’s folded arms. This time, the phoenix opened both eyes and raised its head. Humming faintly and blurred with a slight but sustained quiver, the gemstone’s glow turned the tabletop beneath it a faint blue. Even as they watched, it faded to a purple, and then flared with a fiery red before shifting to a brighter orange and then a blinding yellow. Lord Zinc unfolded his arms and clasped the prism in the palm of one hand, almost smothering it. As he did so, a warmth flowed through him. Every part of him began to feel like it was merging with the crystal; he was puzzled that his skin wasn’t aglow. Despite himself, he found his breath taken from him, and the world poured in, welling up inside him. He smiled up at the others. He wanted to reach over and embrace them all. Tears burned behind his gaze, and he was seeing the fullness of the room, every pigment on the table, every feather and strand of hair, every subtle shade from the darkest shadow to the now-blinding shaft of light… A wing shot out; it struck his hand. The crystal clattered away from him, hopping across the table. Instead, a spidery hand snatched it from the surface. Lord Tirek smirked. “The physician should not take his own medicine.” The pegasus lowered her wing. She hadn’t looked away from the centaur the entire time. Beside her, Lord Zinc slumped in his chair and wiped a hand across his snout. “Tonight,” continued Lord Tirek, “the great ones of the city will decide whether or not this stone” – he held it up for a second and then tucked it away – “shall become a priceless treasure to our citizens. And I see you already know about that.” He waited for the hisses and growls to subside. Under the shadow of the hood, the two yellow embers in the two black coals blinked and darted from face to face. “Good,” he said. “Very good.” Lord Zinc peered around at the delegates among the shadows. On the back of a second pegasus, a much smaller face glared out at the world. Further along, the ram gnashed his teeth. Nearest to the centaur, the changeling flashed green and switched from a black equine mockery to a perfect grey copy of a pegasus. All of them, he noticed, had the gold ring on them somewhere, be it as an earring or as a bracelet bound to a foreleg. He nodded and focused on Lord Tirek again. “We certainly don’t want that,” Lord Zinc rumbled, “but it’s hardly a disaster. After all, isn’t it already a priceless treasure? We made it so. We are the pioneers. There’ll be others.” “Not like this one.” Lord Tirek shook his head and a smile oozed over his face. “Believe me; this one is worth holding on to. Nothing quite reaches in, quite cleanses the soul, like this radiant stone. That’s because it holds the key to a great source of energy. Such power, my fellow Lords and Ladies! Such dreams, encased in crystal! No. You must protect it at all costs.” “Tsk, tsk, tsk,” said the ram in a bleating tone. “You think we can honestly staaaaand against the might of the grrrrrrrreat ones?” “Frankly,” said Lady Carcarass, “that is suicide. And we don’t have to coerce them. I find a little persuasion works wonders for those with a stubborn disposition.” “Especially,” said Lord Buffet, “if it comes in treasure chests, eh?” This earned a knowing chortle from around the table, which Lord Tirek joined briefly. Across the table, only Lord Zinc and the pegasus had stayed silent. They exchanged glares, and then focused once more on the centaur. “If the great ones seize control of these stones,” said Lord Tirek while the others quietened down, “then they also seize our necks. You cannot beat them, you cannot bribe them, you cannot sweet-talk them into doing your bidding. Your only choice is to abide by their wishes.” Lord Buffet bellowed with irritation. “What a leader! What an inspiration! No decree of theirs has stopped me before, and I have no interest in letting one stop me now.” “I did not say,” said Lord Tirek coldly, “that we should abide by their decree, my bovine friend. I say we should abide by their wishes. It is no secret that they have misgivings about these stones. They are lingering doubts that are holdovers from the previous times. So it has always been.” The phoenix cawed and ruffled its feathers. “What are you saying?” said the pegasus at last. Lord Tirek grinned. “We have always been here to serve the city. We heed the call of duty, do we not?” Around the table, there were mutterings and nods of agreement. A few members straightened up where they sat. “My Lords and Ladies” – he leaned forwards, and the yellow embers in his eyes flared for a moment under the lights of the city – “let us go above and beyond the call of duty.” Lord Zinc folded his arms and listened while his ear twitched and his lips pursed. The centaur droned on, and as they listened, their eyes gleamed with the vision laid out before them. Lord Zinc held back. He smelled the unmistakeable stench of rodent. For a moment, his gaze met that of the pegasus, and in that moment when her eyelid relaxed, he knew he had found an ally. He gazed beyond the glass to the labyrinth of streets. A second later, he could’ve sworn he saw one of the shadows move, but there was nothing there when he stared into it. A few seconds passed. He turned back to the centaur, and found the yellow embers burning brighter than ever before. The shadow burst out into the light of the lantern. Fluttershy cried out and zipped out of range as the claws sliced empty air. “Listen,” she whispered urgently. “I can help you out in any way” – she backed off from another swipe – “if you would just calm down. Please.” Her wings were a blur, and she was panting with the effort. Her forehead scrunched up trying to keep all the words in her brain. It didn’t help that the azure uniform was itching in all the wrong places to scratch. It didn’t help that they’d tied the lantern to a rod that bounced too much, and tied the rod to a harness that was too tight across her midriff. It didn’t help that, beyond her circle of yellowish light, the blackness was total. What really didn’t help was that her comfy bed kept popping up in her mind’s eye. She hadn’t seen it in days. “I represent” – she yelped as a close swipe almost snagged on her harness – “I mean, I’m a part of the Bellerophon” – she breathed in to avoid a second swipe and hovered overhead – “the Bellerophon Armada, and as a represent – as a part of the Bellerophon…” Here she closed her eyes, forcing the words to the fore. “I extend a hoof of friendship” – she raised her voice at the roaring that sprang up – “and assure you that… that I come in peace and goodwill! It is also my duty to offer aid and to protect my fellow…” She squealed as a pair of fangs slashed through the light inches from her face. In a panic, she spun round, trying to shine her lantern on any angle from which the darkness might leap up at her. “Excuse me!” she yelled. Her voice was much higher than usual; that swipe had nicked a cheek. “Can you stop doing that, please? I’m trying to help you! I’m serious!” The roaring died, and three voices chuckled from below. Fluttershy wiped her brow, smearing locks of her pink mane along the veneer of sweat. She peered across at her black sleeve, where a rip in the fabric had left the bronze pin hanging on a frayed scrap. “Th-Thank you,” she said. However much she squinted, though, there was still no sign of movement from the blackness. “I… I suppose I could skip the speech, if that’s what’s troubling you?” Gamely, she tried a chuckle back. Her heart wasn’t in it, though, and was currently thumping for an escape hatch through her spine. She lowered herself to a circle of gleaming mud, fringed by reeds that flared before her lantern. The cracks and gouges of a nearby trunk rose out of the shadows. “OK, pony,” growled one of the voices. Hastily, she swung round, trying to spot it among the faint suggestion of a ring of trees. “We may come out and say hello. But what will you do then, little pony? You want to take us away and hurt us.” “You’ve done some bad things,” said Fluttershy as smoothly as she could. Her eyes darted in their sockets, trying to pick out movement. “I understand, really I do. You don’t want to be punished, but it’s the right thing. It’s only fair.” Something caught her eye between two trunks, but when she turned to face it, it had vanished. Her heart tried frantically to smash its way through her back. Both wings had to fight to stop themselves locking up and freezing. “And whaaaat,” bleated a second voice, “if they huuuurrrrt uuuuus? Weeee don’t waaant to be huuurrrrt.” Fluttershy took a breath, and gasped as a flare shot up from three feet away. For a moment, the swamp was revealed, a stretch of mud and reeds and trees sagging and dripping around her. Then it faded away. “You’ve hurt innocent people,” she said with some bite in her voice, but now she was rising slightly and backing away, and she softened her tone. “Please! You understand why we have to do this, right? It’s what’s good for everyone… mostly, I guess.” “SSSSSSome would ssssssay,” hissed a third voice, “that it’ssssss in our naturesssssssssss to hurt otherssss.” A flicker on the edge of her vision; Fluttershy spun round as a few leaves drifted down. At once, she tilted upwards to raise the light, but the branches were beyond her field of view. “Don’t worry about that. If you give yourselves up, we won’t hurt you. I don’t want to hurt you” – a gulp escaped her – “but we can’t have people getting hurt anymore. So please give yourselves up? We can help you. We’ve helped lots of people. You don’t have to do this.” “Interesting,” said all three voices. Right in her ear. Fluttershy screamed and ducked as tiger paws rushed over her. She hit the mud and galloped, narrowly dodging a snap as a snake shot for her tail. Trunks flashed by, lunging at her from the darkness. With a cry, she bounced off one, leaped off another through sheer terrified momentum, and stumbled over half-submerged roots before a row of flames flared up before her, ripping through her night vision and blinding her for a moment. She held up a hoof, cocked her ears for the sounds of thundering feet… There was nothing for it. The heat rippled across her back. She reared up. Both wings unfurled, and she waved both forelegs in an attempt to look ready to lash out. Through the purple afterglow, and beyond the blinking lights, she saw the tiger’s sabre-toothed grin, the goat’s head leering over its shoulder, and the shifting of muscular striped forelimbs and squelching back hooves. From far behind it came a hiss. “I call the yellow rump!” roared the tiger’s head. “It’s the juiciest part, and so soft and chewy! I must have it!” “No faaaaiiiiir!” bleated the goat’s head. “Yooouuu said IIII could have the rump! Thaaat’s the beeeest biiiiit!” “You can have the crunchy, marrow-filled bonessssss,” hissed the snake’s head. “Lotssssss of lovely bonessssss for you. I’ll have whatever remainssssss. Agreed, sssisssterssss?” “Booones sounds gooooood. Agreeeeeeed!” “Agreed!” The tiger-like front crouched for the pounce. There was a thud from beyond the circle of light, as of distant thunder. Fluttershy glanced around desperately. More flares shot up around them, gleaming in the creature’s many eyes. Behind her, the heat crackled on, but even without it, she could feel herself starting to die from sheer tiredness. She rose up in the hope of it backing down, but her wings were struggling just to keep her off the mud. “Can’t we talk about the needs of a safe and happy society?” she managed to squeak. “There’s nothing wrong with coming quietly! We’ll feed you while you’re staying! Beans and cheeses and eggs and nuts! Lots of lovely things! You don’t have to –” The chimaera leapt. And the arimaspi tackled it in midair. Behind her, the flares died away, and the scene was plunged into pure darkness. Roars and hisses and bleats and shouts broke out like violent ghosts. Fluttershy felt a fleck of mud sting her in the eye. A set of talons grabbed her around the hoof and forced her forwards, right into the glare of a griffon in uniform. The griffon threw her into the canopy and pushed her through the branches and leaves, snapping several and snagging others in her hair. Fluttershy spat a wad of cobweb out of her mouth. “Wh-Wh-What j-j-just…” “Don’t jabber, you dork!” yelled the griffon behind her, and she noted that it didn’t sound bothered by the branches at all. “Come on, while they’re both distracted!” The lantern bounced into Fluttershy’s snout, and she bit her lip. Not her, she thought. Please tell me they didn’t send her. They burst out of the greenery and were now in the void. There was darkness below. There was darkness above, though as she wiped the leaves and tangled locks out of her face, Fluttershy noticed a reddish tinge. All around them was a ring of darkness, except for one patch where she saw, like stars in the night, the distant dots of the city. Her griffon had let her go and zoomed past her. “Command wants you,” yelled the voice. “Now! So get moving, dweeb. I won’t tell you again.” Far below her private circle of lantern light, the yelps and growls of the two combatants echoed over the canopy. Fluttershy moaned and waited a few seconds before heading straight up. She could only put so much distance between herself and Gilda before the latter had to come back to fetch her. Whimpering as she went, wincing at the popping in her ears, and waiting every few seconds to get her breath back, Fluttershy rose up to the layer of cloud and was soon surrounded by red wisps, which died away. There was the sky. Midnight blue washed over her. Alight with stars, the world around her twinkled and flickered. She found it easier to breathe, and didn’t stop rising. Sweet gales rushed over her, streaming her pink mane and tail behind her. Despite herself, despite her lowly aches and pains trying to drag her down, her spirit filled with light and spread out to merge with all the space. For a breathless moment, she was weightless. A gibbous moon peeked down at the fluffy mountains, the aura of silver aglow around it. She could see the dark crescent beside it. And then she twirled round, saw the airships closing in, and landed on reality with a thump. “Oh dear,” she whispered. In the gale, the rod quivered. The lantern patted her in the eye. One airship was leading, its swollen balloon draped with a purple tarpaulin and decorated with the eye and vast lips of a mournful whale. Under its white belly, the ropes looked impossibly thin holding up a ship fit for a mansion. Two jagged flippers hung down from either side of the hull, but otherwise the ship was a bow like a proud and jutting snowplough, or the guard of a gigantic steam train. It forced its way through the air. Far behind it, the black dots and silhouettes of other airships closed in. Smaller figures zipped from ship to ship. The armada contained dozens, possibly close to a hundred ships; Fluttershy had never found out the exact number. They were on their way home. Oh, no. What a way for me to finish, she thought. Sighing and slumping, she eased herself out of the way of the bow. Gold, silver, and bronze words shone down from its moon-eclipsing bulk as her lantern bobbed over them, and all of them were “Bellerophon”.