//------------------------------//
// 16.1 They Serve Steamed Hay in Jail 
// Story: Prey and a Lamb 
// by Lambs Prey 
//------------------------------//

"Wait, we get paid?"





After Gloom confirmed to Prey that yes, they did indeed get paid, and Taffy had stopped giving him a suitably horrified look, they finally managed to complete all the required paperwork. Or rather Gloom did. Crimson and Prey just waited for him to finish.

Once that was done, they were off out the door with a cheery goodbye from Taffy Hopes, (as well as a promise to get Prey a piece of toffee because apparently he was living a deprived childhood) and on towards the next appointment of the day. 

Quarter Master Carrot's store house.


---


"It fits you well. You were born to a life in the Night Guard." Gloom congratulated Crimson.

"Thank you sir."

"It fits because I know my job and got the correct size." Carrot told them flatly.

Crimson was wearing a full suit of repurposed Royal Guard armour. They'd come to pick up Crimson's armour set, despite Gloom's earlier assumption that they wouldn't have enough time today. It did indeed seem to suit Crimson. The way he wore the armour looked natural, like he was wearing a coat rather than solid sheets of lightly enchanted metal.

"It's a bit strange seeing you in grey. But now you're a proper Night Guard." Gloom commented, ignoring the Quarter Master's brusque manner. Gloom was referring to the armour enchantments changing Crimson's coat colour to match the uniform grey of the rest of the Night Guard.

The only real difference between Crimson's current appearance and the average Night Guard, (not counting the wings) was that his lanky mane still hung loose. All the other thestrals Prey had seen wore theirs tied or braided back. But none had a close cropped version like the Royal Guards.

Prey himself was once again skulking around at the back of the room, avoiding Carrot's notice. Whenever the Quarter Master turned one way Prey would go the other, keeping out of his line of sight. Prey was willing to bet the Quarter Master still hated him from last time. It would have been an easy bet too. '-still got that bucking wool sack trailing around-'

It was understandable. Prey would've hated Prey if he was in Carrot's place. What he'd said last time was still hanging around in the back of everyone's mind now that they were all present in the same room again.

"One set of Medium Pegasus size 7 Marks & Spades make. Sign this," Carrot ordered gruffly, shoving a sheaf of forms at Crimson, "If you want the armour that is. Or don't sign. It's no skin off my nose what you little pansies do."

Crimson took the papers without comment and began to methodically sign through them.

"You join the Guard, you get a set of armour. You leave the Guard or it gets recalled, you give back a set of armour. If it's dirty or rusted, you pay to fix it. You lose a piece, you pay to replace it. You damage or break it outside of the line of duty, you pay for it. If I don't like the set you return to me, you guessed it, you pay for it. Understand?" Carrot growled.

"Yes sir." Crimson answered flatly.

"Good. Don't let the door hit your flank on the way out." Carrot said, already walking back to behind the counter flap. 

Gloom thought some rather uncharitable things at the Quarter Master's back, before remembering and berating himself for being so uncharitable towards an '-old war veteran-'

---

From there, they went back up through the palace and along the winding corridors. Prey much preferred the slower pace Gloom set indoors as opposed to out on Canterlot's streets. Even if he hated the Palace, at least he could keep up in here. Crimson took the opportunity while they trotted to fiddle with a last few adjustments to his armour, testing his range of motion. Gloom offered him a few helpful pointers of his own;

"That back strap is the one that always ends up chafing. You'll want to put some padding around the buckle tonight."

"Thank you for the advice, sir."

"Welcome. It might also be a good idea to tie your forelock and mane back so it doesn't obscure your vision or get caught in the joints." Gloom added, nodding towards what Prey had noticed earlier.

"The helmet isn't all it could be." Prey observed, mostly to himself.

Apparently though for once, their less superior ears caught his words, "What makes you say that?" Gloom asked, not out of any real interest but just as something to say as they walked.

"Oh, I just meant that it's not great. It doesn't even have a chin strap to keep it on in a fight." Prey replied with a shrug.

"It fits snugly. It should not come off." Crimson said.

"Maybe. But it does leave you very open to someone slitting your throat deep enough to hit the artery." When they both looked askance at him, Prey brought a hoof to his neck, "No armour guarding your throat, see?" He pointed out.

"They would need to get close enough and overpower me first." Crimson stated.

"Maybe the new Night Guard armour will account for that. When we finally get it." Gloom said, adding his two bits.

Prey shrugged again, "It was just an observation." He said.

"Alright, morbid observations about cutting throats over. Let's get this all pinned up and sorted before the end of the day shift. I want to make some real headway on the train line case." Gloom said, pushing open the ISND's office door as they arrived back.

"Someone's been in here." Prey said the moment they entered.

"Somepony." Gloom corrected automatically before his ears caught up with the rest of Prey's words, "What was that?"

"Someone's been in here while we were gone." Prey repeated.

Crimson took a deep sniff, turning his head this way and that like he was scenting the air. "Can't tell. Too much else in here. Sorry." He said, shrugging his wings.

"How do you know that Prey?" Gloom asked, "It's a Guard divisions office, but there's plenty of ponies authorised to enter in here."

"I don't know who they were, I just said someone's been in here." Prey stated, "Look, some of the pages have been disturbed over there on the floor." He added.

"Okay, but that doesn't necessarily mean anything-"
"And someone's put a new file on your desk." Prey finished.

"Oh. Well would you look at that." Gloom said, trotting over and picking up the brown paper folder. Personally, Prey wouldn't have picked it up before checking the folder for contact based poisons or magical traps. Gloom flicked the folder open and began reading what it contained. He groaned.

"Sir?" Crimson asked.

"Of course it is, why wouldn't it be?" Gloom muttered to himself, discarding the folder and rubbing at his eyes, "There's been another minor riot, this time in the town of Hay Steam. Here, take a look." He said, tiredly flipping the folder around and pushing it towards them.

Prey hopped up and managed to catch the edge of the desk, getting enough leverage to pull himself up, "Let me take a look-Don't touch me!" That last was almost snarled at Crimson, who'd moved forwards as if to give Prey a boost up. 

Crimson raised a hoof placatingly and simply stepped to the side so he could see what was in the folder too.

Prey kept one eye on the newly greyed out Pegasus as he pulled out the pages, using only the tips of his cloven hooves to touch the paper. It still hadn't been checked for poison yet. Healthy paranoia kept you alive.

The first page was a section from a newspaper article, with a large headline shouting 'Third Brawl in as Many Months! Mayor Misguided?' Under it, there was a black and white photo shot of a crowded dirt street, with about twenty ponies swinging away at one another atop a number of overturned carts. What immediately caught Prey's eye was the newspapers date.

"It's dated today. That was some fast work getting it to us by, ah, private Stained Glass in the records department." Prey said, reading the name off the cover of the submitted report, "It appears this brawl happened yesterday, and we're seeing it in today's local paper from Hay Steam." He finished.

'-unusual for the records department to so much as give us the time of day-', Gloom thought, before shaking his head and putting that aside for now. "This is a problem, and I don't mean the riot, although Luna knows that's serious enough. It's that this doesn't fit with your model Prey. It isn't next on the rail road track from the last riot, it's further back on the loop." Gloom observed gloomily.

"What does the paper say, sir?" Crimson asked.

"Oh, a list of damages, like smashed glass and knocked down telegraph poles, along with the usual rubbish mixed in with a light sprinkling of truth. Have a read yourself." Gloom sighed, pushing the newspaper article over to Crimson.

"So newspapers are highly inaccurate?" Prey asked. He'd never seen a newspaper before today, so didn't know how factual they actually were. His home village had been too far away from anywhere to receive them. Actually, he didn't know if newspapers had even been around back then. Shame, it looked like they made good fire kindling.

"Never trust a newspaper Prey. At best, they only ever give you one side of the story, and quite often overestimate the facts. Some papers are better than others, the Canterlot Express for example. However some tabloids are just entirely made up of sensational lies." Gloom grumbled.

"Yet it's actively read by a large majority of the population?" Prey asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, sort of. Someponies take it more seriously than others." Gloom answered.

"Still sounds like it's useful in gauging public opinion, and can be used to see what the most restless individuals in society have to say. Many ponies will just follow the herd by the sound of it." Prey said.

Gloom paused to think about that for a moment, "Well when you put it that way Prey, you make me wonder why I get out of bed in the evening." He sighed.

"The brawl was started over crashed carts it says here, sir. That can't be all it was." Crimson said, reading over the article.

"Most likely it isn't. It must have been simmering under the surface for a while, some hidden factor or feud." Prey told him.

"Prey's probably right. But this doesn't answer the question of why it didn't fit with the prediction. I thought you were on to something there Prey." Gloom said, disappointed.

Prey sat back on the desk, idly rubbing his good ear while he thought, "Perhaps. Or perhaps this riot was just an exception to the pattern, leftover tensions from the previous fight. Or maybe our instigator decided to shake up their circuit a bit, realising they were becoming too predictable." He said thoughtfully.

"It would be good if we knew what the real reason for the fight was." Crimson said, putting the paper down and blowing a long strand of mane out of his eyes, which had been taped down awkwardly by the new addition of his helmet.

"No, it most likely won't tell us anything, aside from why they fought. It wouldn't answer the question of who is getting them to fight." Prey told him.

Crimson blinked slowly, then looked back to their Sargent who was supposed to be in charge here, "How should we proceed then sir?" He asked. 

'-horseapples-' Gloom thought.

"Ah, well, perhaps the best way to proceed is to go to Hay Steam ourselves and find out what really happened." Gloom said, sounding a lot more sure of himself than his thoughts let on, '-what if we don't find anything though?-'

"You would let us out of Canterlot?" Prey asked slowly.

"We would be going together as a unit." Gloom said, his thoughts already running into logistics for the trip, '-need tickets. No chariot. Prey can't fly. An amulet too-'

"You would trust us?" Prey clarified.

Gloom quickly sat up straighter and looked Prey in the eye, "We would be going as a unit." He repeated seriously, "And, this isn't to insult either of you, but it doesn't matter if I trust you or not, because you have those on." He said, tapping his shin to show where the golden set of bands sat on Prey and Crimson's own fore legs.

"You must have figured out that those act as tracking spells." Gloom said, sounding apologetic but uncompromising, "We're the Night Guard. I expect everypony on their best behaviour out there." He told them.

Prey just shrugged and nodded, because everything Gloom said he'd already known. The only reason he'd brought it up was to try and use reverse psychology to make Gloom trust him more. If he'd agreed too eagerly to getting out of Canterlot, it would be suspicious. But by carefully pointing out the fact that he was a probationary prisoner, Prey was showing Gloom that he was trying to work with, rather than against, the Sargent.

Crimson on the other hoof, although his face didn't change, looked like he wasn't pleased by Prey's insinuation that they might not be trusted. It was in the way he shifted his wings.

"Are you sure this isn't something the Royal Guard would be better tasked with? No one out there likes the Night Guard." Prey pointed out. He already knew what Gloom was going to answer.

"It's 'nopony'. They're all busy trying to find Rocky Bed. Rescuing him takes priority. We will go instead. Night Guards don't only work at night, we are Guards at every other hour of the day also, and our duty remains the same." Gloom said, pushing himself to his hooves.

That was almost exactly what Prey predicted the Sargent would say. Gloom and Crimson were too honour bound to even consider putting this off. That suited Prey just fine for once. He would be happy to get out of Canterlot.

"We're going to the Lieutenant's office to inform him where we're going and there's something I need to grab, but then we're out of here. Come on." Gloom said, heading for the door.

Prey swung himself off the desk and followed Crimson after Gloom. He spared a glance for the office as they left. The cork boards were still bare and files still scattered everywhere. They'd barely made a start. 'From one thing straight to the next.' He thought, and then hurried to catch up.


------


The train was already pulling out of the station before they even found their seats. Prey collapsed onto the seat in exhaustion, breathing hard. It had been a hard run. For him. Gloom and Crimson had found it no more stressful than a brisk trot through the scenic streets of Canterlot. Outside, the 'clack-clack' on the train tracks steadily increased in rhythm as the train gained speed.

"The offer to carry you is still open." Gloom said.

"Huff... Don't touch me." Prey gasped, still catching his breath.

"Feel free to take a nap if you're tired. It's at least a forty five minute ride to Hay Steam." Gloom suggested, settling back into his own seat.

Despite it only being about half past three in the afternoon, there was almost no one else on their carriage. Just another five ponies, sitting far away from the ISND's position. Prey caught a couple of uneasy looks in Gloom's direction.

Interestingly enough, the tickets had been half price. Something about the train company having a deal with the Guard for guards travelling when on duty. Prey was confident that if Gloom pushed, the nervous mare behind the counter would've given him the tickets for free just to get the intimidating thestral out of the ticket office. 

Not that the tickets were coming out of Gloom's pocket. Night Guard expenses and all that.

"You fine over there?" Gloom asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Fine." Prey responded, resting his legs.  He was glad to finally have the chance to sit and down rest his sore hooves after running everywhere. The hard cobbles of Canterlot's streets had been merciless.

"Perhaps we should get you some horse shoes. Could probably get a farrier to resize a foal's set for you." Gloom suggested.

'Idiot.' Prey thought. He wordlessly lifted one cloven hoof with a flat expression, bottom facing out so Gloom could clearly see the cleft in it.

"Oops. Didn't think about that. Cloven hooves and all." Gloom muttered, rubbing at his chest.

Crimson cleared his throat, "What are the regulations on horse shoes in the Night Guard?" He asked.

Gloom held up his own hoof, showing them the fairly thin and nondescript horseshoe nailed to the bottom of it. It didn't have a lip or indent, it was just a flat semi circle of metal. It hadn't shown obviously when he walked, but had been easy enough to hear when he trotted across any hard surface.

"Almost any permanent kind is fine, apart from studded horseshoes like you sometimes see rural ponies wearing. Hammer hooves and war shoes are a bit different, as we can take those on and off, but those are only permitted when somepony is heading to an active conflict zone, like monster detainment." Gloom said.

'And yet another fine example of pony biology being superior to sheep's.' Prey observed, rotating his hoof this way and that as he examined it. 

Having cloven hooves, sheep could not have horse shoes, which was quite inconvenient if you spent a lot of time traveling across rough terrain or alternatively, cobblestone streets. There was a slight upside. Cloven hooves did provide some slight advantage in being able to grip small objects between the cleft, like a quill for example.

"I have not needed shoes before. Is it necessary in the Night Guard?" Crimson questioned, tufted ears flicking for a moment as the trains wheels made a particularly loud 'cla-Clack.'

"They're not a requirement. But personally, I would highly recommend that when you get your first pay check, we get you some. A good set of horseshoes goes a long way, and it certainly lends some extra weight if you ever get in a fight." Gloom said.

"I am afraid... Hoof to hoof is not my strong suit. I am passable. I was trained with wing blades and in the use of my wings." Crimson said.

"Don't sell yourself short, I know you're more than passable. However, you need to remember, even after you get your fathers wing blades back, I don't want you using them if we can help it. We are part of the Guard. We maintain the peace, not maim or kill ponies. And wing blades weren't made for subduing." Gloom said. In Prey's opinion, that was the best option to neutralise a threat, but ponies didn't see things that way. 

Which was probably why he was still alive. 

They'd captured him in a trap he'd been dumb or rather desperate enough to fall for. He still wasn't sure why, but rather than execute him, they'd thrown him in Dreverton to rot. Perhaps it was spitefulness, perhaps it was because he hadn't been able to fight back, their reasons didn't really matter in the end. If not for an error in Prey's record, Captain Valour would never have fetched him from that dark hole. For some reason, they hadn't known he was a murderer, just a dark mind magic user. Sunshine had admitted as much.

Prey still hadn't a clue how that had happened. But after fifty seven years, someone messing up filing a single sheet of paperwork was pretty understandable. 

After all, the Resistance's war had been fifty seven years ago. There was no way a lamb was alive fifty seven years ago.

'Except this little runt lamb.'

"What about weight sir?" Crimson asked, and Prey recalled himself to the conversation. "Horseshoes are heavy, and I am not used to wearing any. It would throw off my flight." Crimson didn't sound like he was protesting, merely setting out his concerns.

"Cloud steel." Gloom answered, holding up his shod hoof again with a grin, "Made in Cloudsdale on a thunder forge. They barely weigh a thing, but are tougher than normal steel, last longer, and are even resistant to some types of magic. Not cheap, but well worth the investment."

Crimson considered for a moment, before giving a sharp nod, "Yes sir. You are quite correct. I will obtain a pair at the earliest opportunity."

"Hey, it wasn't an order. I was just making a recommendation as a friend, not as an officer. It's still your own choice to make." Gloom said quickly. '-I didn't make that sound like an order did I?-'

"I have. I will follow your advice and obtain a set of cloud steel shoes." Crimson said resolutely.

"What other properties does cloud steel have?" Prey asked, joining in on the only interesting bit of the conversation, "Thunder forging implies that it involves a process only available to pegasi, or possibly unicorns. Cloud steel would therefore be a commodity metal, much in demand to certain buyers." He reasoned.

"Err, I don't know much about what cloud steel actually does or how it's made. Sorry. The thestral clans only knew of it, we didn't know how to make it, and since we were trying to avoid detection..." Gloom trailed off with a shrug, "You're right about it being quite expensive though. Why're you interested? Planning on starting a monopoly and bankrolling Cloudsdale?" He joked.

Prey didn't even bother formulating a reply to his ridiculous suggestion. The economy would never be decided on the forging process of some rare but ultimately substitutable metal. That said, he was still interested in its potential uses. It was frustrating that Gloom didn't know anything further. Oh well, he'd have to find out later for himself.

"What're you thinking about in that big brain of yours, Prey?" Gloom asked the lamb, stretching out languidly on his seat.

"Nothing. Just considering if our Sargent actually has a plan. So far, all I've been told is 'go to Hay Steam'. Sir." He finished with a click of teeth and his patronising smile.

Gloom actually grinned back, which made Prey scowl and made Gloom's grin increase in width, "Yes, your Sargent does indeed have a plan. We are-"

"-You're going to walk into the sheriff's office, pull rank and question the rioters. Then we're going to snoop around and hope to find something of note before we get back on the train and return to Canterlot. How close am I sir?" Prey asked sweetly.

Gloom closed his mouth, '-can he read my thoughts?-'. He gave Prey a critical look. Prey just kept on smiling.

"Something like that." Gloom muttered with a sigh.

"Is there a plan to make them actually listen to you? Sir."

"They don't like the Night Guard. Or thestrals sir." Crimson put in rather needlessly.

"Ah, not true. They don't like me, the thestral. They shouldn't have anything against the Night Guard, so I'm just going to be a 'normal' Night Guard..." Gloom's mouth quirked up, "-With this." He finished before they could ask, pulling out the small brown pouch, which was what he'd picked up from the Lieutenant before they left.

Gloom pulled the drawstring open and shook out what was inside onto his hoof. A pendant fell out, made up of a silver star engraved with a stylised eye. Prey's droopy ears twitched in sudden interest, he could tell that the amulet was enchanted. He stared intently at it as he tried to analyse just what it did.

"Either of you know what this is?" Gloom asked, holding it up by the loop of string.

"No sir." Crimson answered.

"Really? Well, it's called a Dusk Pony amulet. They used to be a closely guarded treasure, but thankfully after the clans reunited with Equestria, we've had unicorns to make them again. What a Dusk Pony amulet does is that it-"

"-Has an illusionary based enchantment on it that conceals your thestral traits somehow." Prey interrupted once again, eyes still locked on the dangling amulet as he tilted his head so as to be able to examine it better. "They must've been used by a few thestrals from within each clan, tasked with infiltrating regular pony society now and then to try and keep abreast of developments.

Prey blinked, he hadn't really meant to say all of that out loud, as it had only been a theory. But from Gloom's thoughts he saw that his deduction had been accurate.

"Are you sure you haven't seen one of these before Prey?" Gloom asked.

"Quite sure."

"Then did you figure out all that just by looking at it?" Gloom asked, sounding slightly impressed.

"Only partly. It simply made the most sense and explained how the thestrals don't seem as disjointed from society as I would otherwise have expected after one thousand years of separation. It wasn't hard to figure out." Prey answered, deflecting most of the accomplishment.

He glanced towards Crimson, "It would also explain why he didn't recognise it, mainly being an outcast within his own clan." Prey stated. Then he added, "Sorry." to Crimson.

He wasn't sure why he bothered apologising, it wasn't his problem how Crimson's clan had treated him, and if he took offence at Prey's observation, then that was his problem.

"That explanation makes sense to me." Crimson said calmly. Seems he hadn't taken offence.

"Well done Prey, that's quite something to be able to figure out a clan's ancestral secrets within only a few seconds." Gloom said with a light chuckle.

"We're you taught how to analyse magical items Prey?" Crimson asked, yellow eyes regarding Prey speculatively.

"No, I just have a knack for figuring things out. It's nothing special." Prey answered, looking out the window and deflecting their curiosity.

"Hey, it was a compliment. That's going to be quite a useful knack to have. Might even be your cutie mark. If, you know, you were a pony." Gloom added.

"But I was born a runt sheep freak instead. Fate is cruel, no?" Prey responded with a lopsided grin. He didn't let the bubbling hate he felt for pony kind bleed into his tone.

Gloom chuckled at what he thought was a joke, and with a quick glance to his Sargent, Crimson attempted to follow his lead, trying to pull off what was supposed to be an amused smile. It just looked creepy.

'-were gonna have to work on that-', Gloom thought with a small grimace, '-oh well at least it was an honest effort-'

Crimson seemed to become aware that he'd fumbled the initiative, and hastily let the 'smile' fade, his wings shuffling slightly on his back.

"Well try it on then." Prey said to Gloom, drawing their attention back to the amulet he still held.

"There's no hurry, but if you wanna' see what it looks like," Gloom pulled off his helmet and slipped the amulet over his neck, letting it come to a rest with a slight clink against his chest plate, "Not bad, eh?" He asked.

The amulet glowed a deep blue for a second, and then a ripple of magic raced over Gloom's frame, completing the circuit of his body within a second. The magic left Gloom mostly the same aside from a few key points. He was still a grey, armour wearing Night Guard, but his feral looking slit eyes had been replaced with normal looking pony ones, (although still yellow) and his bat wings now appeared to just be pegasus's wings.

"You look like one of them, pardon, I mean a pegasus, sir." Crimson said, then after a further moment of examination, "Your eyes are like mine now." He added, sounding vaguely surprised.

"Quite a useful little trick, isn't it?" Gloom said, giving the amulet a small flick.

Prey was observing the illusionary disguise closely, and, not to his surprise, found it didn't hold up under close scrutiny. That was the case with most illusions, especially those bound to a living or moving form.

Gloom's new eyes didn't react quite the same way as natural ones did to light stimuli or when he blinked, but otherwise, unless you were either very observant or looking for it, you wouldn't notice. The wings had their own slight visual problem, which was that the feathers were too similar, almost perfect copies of each other rather than having the small imperfections or slight variations a normal wing would possess.

Again, not something anyone would notice at a passing glance, but Prey imagined that if Gloom tried to fly, the illusion would become clearly apparent to all. Overall though, it was a decently constructed illusionary glamour.

"How does it hold up under contact? Does it dissipate, give the perception of touch, or simply allow someone's hoof to pass through?" Prey questioned.

"Well, the shell is almost skin tight, so nopony should notice. But if you mean what happens when you touch it, why don't you see for yourself?" Gloom offered, extending one wing towards Prey for him to test.

Prey shrunk away with a look of disgust, "No thank you, I'm perfectly fine to just observe the effect." He answered. He didn't want to risk dispelling the illusion by accident and them finding out about the runes on his hooves.

True to his previous predictions, the wing didn't behave like a normal one should. The feathers didn't flex or shift in the air as the wing was extended. "You'll have to keep your wings closed if you don't want anyone to notice it's fake, sir." He told Gloom.

"It's a fault I'm already aware of. You're not the first to notice a Dusk Pony amulet's weakness, but you were rather quite quick on the uptake." Gloom said.

Prey wondered for a moment if he should point out the other problem, which was that Gloom had just put the amulet on in full view of the other ponies in the carriage, which kind of defeated the purpose of a glamour. Not that he thought the five ponies down the other end of the carriage would be saying anything. Prey decided he would save his breath and instead went back to looking out the window at the passing scenery of scattered farms and grassy plains.

---

Thankfully, the other two were also content to let the rest of the journey pass in peace. Crimson spent it familiarising himself with every inch of his new armour, checking and rechecking all its joints and buckles.

Gloom appeared to be catching up with his disturbed sleep schedule and had his head down, lightly dozing when the train pulled up to the platform with a shrill whistle and loud hiss of steam. Through the window, Prey got a quick look at a small train station and beyond that the start of the town.

"Hay Steam! This stop Hay Steam!" The conductor yelled from somewhere outside.

"Come on Prey." Crimson and Gloom were already on their hooves, and stepping out into the isle. Prey took another quick look out the window and then followed them. 

Jumping across the gap and down onto the platform brought a small wince to his face, as his hooves reminded him that they were still upset about their last jaunt through Canterlot.

"Which way to the town sheriff's office sir?" Crimson asked as they stepped away from the train.

They'd exited near the far end of the platform, and were relatively separated from the rest of the ponies climbing on and off the train. Gloom shaded his eyes looked around the platform and up the one street they had clear vision of, but didn't spot anything helpful in locating the local lockup. 

"Hmm. Crimson, fly up and have a look for the sheriff's office would you? I would myself but..." He flicked the amulet again, "Would give myself away. I'll stay with Prey." Gloom said.

"Yes sir. This should only take a minute." Crimson answered, starting to back up so he could get a quick running start.

"The jail should should have a sign or something, look for that." Gloom told him, looking back over his shoulder as the train let out another shrill whistle and started to slowly chug away.

Crimson flexed out his wings, spreading his impressively large pinions wide. Then with a spring and a few powerful flaps Crimson was airborne and rapidly gaining altitude.

Prey had snapped his eyes shut as Crimson took off to avoid any dust kicked up by the downdraft. He'd been unlucky enough to be blinded a few times before when standing too close to a griffon taking off in the Resistance. It was an annoying hazard of fliers. 

He cautiously reopened his eyes enough to squint around, and seeing no floating dust opened them fully, looking up to track Crimson's flight as the now grey Pegasus tilted in the air and began a sweeping glide over the town.

It didn't bother Prey to admit that, even from this short demonstration, he thought Crimson was quite an impressive flyer. He wasn't an expert, but the Pegasus's form looked good and he was managing a fair pace despite being weighed down with his new armour.

"You ever been flying before?" Gloom asked, seeing his observation of the distant figure of Crimson, and squinting his own yellow eyes against the sun to join in watching.

Prey looked at Gloom flatly, then turned his head so he could look over at his wingless back, "What do you think, sir?"

"No, I mean has anyone taken you up before? You're certainly small enough to be a passenger." Gloom said, then winced slightly, "Ah, I didn't mean it like that." He hurriedly added.

"That's of no consequence. I'm a runt. While I do not appreciate being treated like a child, it would be pointless to deny my small stature. As long as people don't keep equating one with the other, I don't have a problem." Prey informed Gloom matter of factly. It looked like the figure of Crimson had reached the far side of Hay Steam and was starting the return sweep.

"So, has anyone ever taken you up?" Gloom asked again after a few long seconds of digesting that.

Prey thought about the trip he'd taken in the sky chariot when the Solar Guard had retrieved him from Dreverton, "Yes. Once."

"Did you like it?" Gloom asked cocking his head.

"No."

"Don't like heights?" Gloom asked.

"No." Prey repeated, choosing the answer that would be most likely to ensure Gloom never make the offer himself, and also hopefully drop the question.

"Who took you? A Pegasus from the local weather team?" Gloom asked Prey, obviously not catching the hint and just trying to make conversation.

"There were no weather teams where I was from." Prey answered.

"What? No weather teams? Where did you live?" Gloom asked, now in interest. '-everywhere in Equestria at least have access to a weather team or even just local pegasi-' he thought.

Prey gave the disguised thestral a sideways look, before refocusing on Crimson as he came in to land, "I doubt you would have heard of it. It's just a tiny little village out in the middle of nowhere. Nobody goes there anymore. It's a nowhere-nothing place." He told Gloom. He wasn't even lying.

Crimson swooped in and came to a stop in mid air, flaring his wings and giving a couple of downward beats as he killed all momentum, before letting himself drop the last bit onto the platform with a 'clop'.

Prey reopened his eyes when his ears picked that up, and so was in time to see Crimson point off down the main street, "The building I assume to be the sheriff's office is down that way and on the fourth left sir. It's not a big town." Crimson reported, taking a moment to carefully refolded his wings.

"Excellent. Well, we're not solving anything by standing here, let's go." Gloom said, and started off at a brisk trot. Prey sighed and tried to keep up.


---


Now that they were actually heading through the streets of Hay Steam, the pony residents had no choice but to notice them. The ponies they passed all moved out of their way, some with hesitant curiosity, some with mild confusion as to who these nonstandard looking Royal Guards where, and some just tried to avoid eye contact altogether. 

Prey listened in to the reactions of those who passed within his mental perception range, but didn't pick up anything too important.

'-the Guard finally come to put a stop to all these fights-'
'-Oh I hope Blossom doesn't get in trouble with them because of the riot yesterday-'
'-Grey? Grandpa always told me they were white or brown coated, not grey-'
'-only two? What use is that? Misty won't be fazed by only two Royal Guards-'
'-baby sheep? Where are they taking a little filly like her?-'

Prey took note of a slightly familiar looking area coming up on the street where some ponies were clearing up a mess strewn across the street. It reminded him of the photo from the newspaper. The damaged shop fronts, smashed bins, and broken planking they passed, along the deep gouges in the hard packed dirt of the street outside those same shops quite clearly indicated where the overturned wagons and riot had happened yesterday.

"Many of these ponies are acting guilty sir." Crimson said quietly.

"And why wouldn't they be? There's been a riot, and it's not even the first one. I'm willing to bet everypony knows somepony who was involved. They feel guilty by association, if nothing else." Gloom explained, ears flicking as he scanned the faces they passed. He was alert, but not tense.

Soon, they reached the correct street and turned off the Main Street, passing two wooden planking houses with brightly painted doors, that seemed to be the standard design for almost all of the houses and shops in Hay Steam they'd seen so far. The town still had the feeling of being new, a bit hurried and unsure of itself. Prey recalled from the report that it'd only been built seven years ago.

There were signs that someone, most likely the mayor, had made efforts to try and establish the town proper. Like the smattering of new looking gem lit street lamps, street signs that still had all their paint, and a couple of oak saplings planted at street corners, still tied up to their guidance posts.

Prey decided he despised Hay Steam.

"Here it is sir." Crimson said. They'd come to a building with a hanging sign of a pained golden star, and the words 'County Law' underneath. 

The building was starkly different from the rest of the town, in so far as it was made out of red brick instead of wood. 'The sheriff probably didn't want the locals burning down the place in a drunken rage.' Prey thought.

Gloom marched up to the door, and found it locked. Not perturbed, he knocked loudly, horse shoe striking wood, "It's the Guard here on official business. Open up." He called.

There was a minute of silence as they stood on the street waiting. 

Gloom glanced back at them and knocked again, repeating his call slightly louder, "It's the Guard, open up."

Nothing happened. 

Gloom was about to knock a third and final time before, '-go find the mayor and demand access-', When Prey's unbandaged right ear picked up the faint sound of movement from on the other side of the brick wall. Then, as they came into range, he picked up their thoughts:

'-Celestia give me strength, if you don't stop kicking my door-'

"There's someone coming." He said.

"Somepony. You sure? I don't hear any-" There was a rattle of keys, followed by what might have been a muffled curse, and then the lock clicked and the door was pushed open.

"Yeah?! Who's got the apples- Oh." The large green earth pony stallion on the other side of the door stopped mid way through his demand as he caught sight of the Royal Guard armour. He squinted from under his battered looking stetson through bleary eyes, "Wait. Are you the guard?" He asked gruffly.

"Yes, the Night Guard. I'm Sargent Gloom. Are you the sheriff of Hay Steam?" Gloom asked.

"Yeah, I'm him. Turf Apple." The green stallion answered, a touch uncertainly. He wore a crumpled and dusty jacket, a polished gold star badge on the collar. '-dang it, why didn't anypony give me a heads up?-'

"Excellent. Our business would be better discussed inside." Gloom said.

Turf Apple wavered on the door step for a second as he processed that, "Oh. Right. Come into my office then." He said awkwardly, steeping back.

Gloom strode confidently into the sparse office, with Crimson close behind. The pegasus jammed the door open with his hoof as Turf Apple automatically went to shut it. "What?" Turf Apple demanded.

Crimson just gave him a level look and pushed the door back open enough to also admit Prey. The lamb didn't pass comment as he slipped inside. Just gave the office a quick once over for threats, before stepping smartly out of reach of the sheriff. Turf Apple was blinking and trying to come up with an explanation for what his eyes were seeing, '-what in tarnation is a lamb doing in here? Why're the Guard carting around a sheep?-'

"You've got a lamb following you, Sargent." He stated somewhat stupidly.

"Yes, he's also part of the Night Guard. Where are the cells?" Gloom answered without looking back.

"He? I don't think you've seen enough sheep mister Sargent, but I've been a farmer and this here's a baby ewe." Turf Apple said, apparently still bemusedly caught up on the fact that a lamb of all people had been escorted by the Night Guard into his office. Prey was starting to suspect that the sheriff might be slightly drunk.

"No. He's a he. He's part of the Night Guard, no I'm not making this up, his name is Prey, and now where are the cells, sheriff Turf Apple?" Gloom repeated.

"Cells? What're you wanting with the cells?" Turf Apple asked, finally looking away from Prey, who was making a point of looking normal and harmless like he always did around strangers.

"We are here to interrogate some of the ponies from the riot yesterday morning. It's my understanding that you have a number of them locked up here." Gloom said, starting to get impatient.

"Oh. Oh right of course. Yes, they're down there." He said, jerking his head towards a door behind the desk.

"Good. After you sheriff, if you would be so kind. You do have a secluded room for interviews and interrogations, yes?" Gloom asked, gesturing the sheriff to lead the way.

Turf Apple dithered for a moment, then set his jaw and faced them squarely, "What do you want with them? These here suspects are my responsibility and I'm the sheriff of this here town. In here you do things my way." Turf Apple announced firmly.

Neither Gloom or Crimson appeared fazed, "Sheriff, we are the Night Guard, we have jurisdiction in any investigation assigned to us by duly appointed officers, in whatever part of Equestria we're required to enter. Rest assured, we're just here to uphold the law. Same as you. Now if you would kindly lead the way?" Gloom said politely, gesturing once again for Turf Apple to take the lead.

"You're not here to take any of them away then?" Turf Apple asked suspiciously, "This here's their town of residence, and so I've got power to arrest them and hold them here for'n breaking the law." He insisted. Why the sheriff was even arguing about this raised a few questions in Prey's head, but he decided to save them util later.

"Sheriff, the cells please." Gloom repeated pleasantly. '-what's his problem? Why is there even a problem?-' He thought. "We can discuss what action we take, if any, after we've spoken to a few of the suspects." He added out loud.

Turf Apple finally did as he was asked, ducking his head so he could more firmly push his hat on and hide a muttered comment. Stomping over to the desk, he started shuffling through one of the draws. "Now where did Charcoal put the spare-? Aha." Turf Apple pulled out a large key on a string and pulled open the door.

"This way if'n you please." He muttered, not waiting to see if they followed him.

Gloom's eyes flicked over to Crimson, and then Prey. "Any thoughts?" He mouthed.

Crimson shook his head, and Prey shrugged and made a motion with his head that seemed to indicate 'ask me later.' 

Gloom shrugged himself, and went after Turf Apple.

When Prey stepped around the desk to follow, he saw a mostly empty glass bottle propped underneath, a couple of inches of amber liquid still in the bottom. 'So he is slightly drunk then. I wasn't sure, didn't smell anything on his breath.' Prey thought.

The door they went through lead down a short, dingy corridor to another two doors set at the end on the left and right. Turf Apple unlocked the right one with the key, and they were able to step through into a room with four barred cells, the area lit by sunlight from a line of small, high set dusty windows. The cells had brick walls between them, so that a prisoner couldn't see over into the next cell, but could see out the front just fine.

All of the cells were occupied, two ponies in each cell, in various attitudes of boredom or despondency. A couple looked up as Turf Apple came in, and then jerked upright as Gloom stepped inside in his Night Guard armour, followed by Crimson. As usual, few noticed Prey slipping in quietly behind them.

Quickly Prey scanned the cells inhabitants, looking for anything out of place and trying to shift through the jumble of thoughts that came from being in the same room as eleven other individuals; '-oh horse-' '-feathers the-' 'Guard-' 'now I'm-' '-why didn't-' 'I listen to Marj-' '-stay calm-' '-I'm innocent-'

Prey's breath caught in his throat as he spotted a blue unicorn in the last cell. The unicorn wasn't chained or bound in any way, the horn on his head free and uninhibited. Prey could not process the stupidity of imprisoning a unicorn without taking such basic safety precautions. 'Why hasn't he escaped?! Is fear of the sheriff really the only thing keeping him in here?' Prey thought in horror, backing towards the door.

"I am Sargent Gloom of the Night Guard, here on behalf of the Canterlot crown." Gloom announced loudly, standing proudly as he surveyed the inmates watching him with wide eyes. "I have a few questions that I'm going to be asking some of you. Answering them truthfully will only help your case."

Some of the ponies eyes darted to Turf Apple, who made an imperceptible motion with his head. Prey however, heard their thoughts loud and clear, '-what's going to happen to me?-', 'Turf won't let them take me away-', and then Turf Apple, '-don't worry I'm not letting any two bit Guard get between my family-'

"Sheriff Turf Apple, I would like to make use of that interrogation room you spoke of. We'll be taking them in one at a time-"

"Now hold on," Turf Apple interrupted, "I'm the sheriff, and I demand to be in on any interrogations you fellas carry out. It's my duty to protect the rights of everypony."

The angry annoyance coming off Gloom at the towns sheriff for showing them up was almost palpable. Once again, Prey was flabbergasted by Turf Apple's blatant stupidity. 'You don't contradict the Guard, especially not in front of any prisoners. You at least pretend. Present a unified front, never show weakness! This stallion is a complete fool.' Prey thought from where he hid.

Currently, Prey was observing the proceedings from outside the room, only his head poking around the door frame, keeping well away from the blue unicorn. Who looked like he was trying not to cry.

"Of course sheriff Turf Apple, your input would be welcome," Gloom ground out, "Now however might not be the time-"
"I ain't going nowhere." Turf Apple insisted stubbornly, glaring at Gloom and Crimson.

"Wait, what about-" A large slightly banged up looking earth pony mare in one of the cells started, before she was cut off by Turf Apple snapping at her, "Quiet Honey Bush, I'm dealing with this."

The mare called Honey Bush snapped her mouth shut and shrank back onto the cells bunk, eyes glued to the floor. Prey caught a flash of guilt in Turf Apple's thoughts, before it turned to anger. The sheriff snorted and glowered back at Gloom, who returned it glare for glare.

"Sheriff, a suspect, in the interrogation room. Now if you would be so kind?" Gloom asked in an overly polite tone, which didn't match at all with his expression.

Turf Apple didn't budge, "I ain't letting anypony out of my sight while they're under my jurisdiction. Either come back with a custody transfer order, or I get to sit in."

Crimson moved ever so slightly closer to Gloom, shifting his centre of gravity and loosing his folded wings. It wasn't much, just a small shift in stance, but Prey recognised it for what it was. Crimson had gone from passive observer to ready warrior. He wasn't the only one to notice.

"Crimson, that's not what we're here for." Gloom said in a low voice, not breaking eye contact with the stubborn sheriff. Turf Apple seemed oblivious to the fact that he was only one wrong move away from a fight, "I'm the one you're talking to here. So what's it going to be? My terms or no terms." Turf Apple pressed.

Prey shot a look at the prisoners. Their attitude of worry had shifted towards nervous hope, although they still seemed very concerned about what the Night Guard were here to do. A couple more so than others. Honey Bush was one of them, along with a yellow pegasus and a brown and white dappled earth pony in the adjacent cell. 

'Those three definitely have something to hide.'

Gloom gritted his teeth, struggling to fix a smile to his face, "Yes sheriff, of course. How could I refuse such a gracious request. You're doing your duty and upholding the princess's law after all. Same as us." He gritted out. Prey thought it was a good job the Dusk Pony amulet's glamour hid the thestral's pointy canines, or else that smile would have crossed the line from 'forced' to outright threatening.

Turf Apple glared at them suspiciously for a last few long seconds, "Good."

---

The interrogation room turned out to be only the other room in the hall way, the one on the left. It looked more like it had been used for an impromptu kitchen or break room, what with the messy sink in one corner, half full of used plates and mugs.

Gloom hastily cleared the table, pushing most of the junk on it onto the floor, getting a filthy look from Turf Apple, which he ignored. Crimson dragged up two chairs, one on each side of the table, and took up position behind the far one where Gloom would be sitting. 

"Sheriff, if you would be so good as to fetch the first suspect? The sooner we start, the sooner we all can get out of here." Gloom said, taking the chair.

"Best not waste any time then." Turf Apple snorted sarcastically.

"Couldn't have said it better myself, sheriff Turf Apple." Gloom returned.

Once the green earth stallion had left the room to fetch the first prisoner, it seemed to dawn on Gloom that he'd lost track of the third member of their party. "Where's Prey?" He asked sharply, standing back up. '-how'd I forget?-'

"He's here.", "I'm right here." Both Crimson and Prey answered at the same time.

Gloom swivelled to pinpoint where his ears had heard the lambs voice, "How'd you get there? I didn't even see you."

"I was right behind you. Not my fault if you didn't see me."

"He was already waiting in the corridor when we came out sir." Crimson said.

"He was?" Gloom blinked, then to Prey, "You were?"

"Obviously. Now, before Turf Apple returns, listen. The sheriff is trying to cover for one of the prisoners. Not sure why, but my guess is that they're blood related, cousins maybe. Possibly that Honey Bush?" Prey suggested.

Gloom didn't question how Prey had come to that conclusion and just nodded seriously, obviously figuring that; '-he must have noticed something I missed-'. Gloom was correct, Prey had noticed something the Sargent had missed. Namely, their inner thoughts.

"Anything else? Quickly." Gloom asked in a low voice, eyes on the door.

Prey shrugged, "Turf Apple might also be slightly drunk. Not sure if that's important."

"Drunk? Drinking while on duty is a serious dereliction of-" The door reopened and Gloom snapped back to sitting up straight in the chair, a look of bored professionalism on his face as Turf Apple entered, leading in the same brown dappled earth pony from before, with a pair of fairly loose hoof cuffs attached to his front legs. He was also sporting a large, hoof shaped bruise on his chest that looked a day old, and a dust matted mane from yesterday's riot. 

'Good. This was one of the guilty ones I picked out earlier.' Prey thought. He didn't care about stopping these riots, just like he didn't care about helping Tulip or Rocky Bed. However he was here to prove he was useful to Luna and wasn't replaceable. 

Nervously, the earth pony took the other seat when Turf Apple told him to, eyes flicking back and forth between Gloom and Crimson, who were watching him dispassionately. Or Gloom was. That was just Crimson's default expression. 

'-oh horse apples, oh horse apples. Okay, keep calm, don't panic, they can't prove anything-', Their prisoner thought, taking a deep breath.

"Name?" Gloom asked abruptly.

The earth pony started, "I'm Pot." He answered, trying not to look Gloom in the eye. Even with the Dusk Amulet masking his normal slit pupils, the glaring yellow of the disguised thestral's eyes still gave them an unnatural intensity.

"Full name please." Gloom stated.

"I-I mean, Willow Pot." The cuffed pony hurriedly corrected himself.

"Age?"

"I'm thirty, thirty one next month." Willow Pot answered.

"Job or occupation?" Gloom asked next.

"Err, I don't have one at the moment. But I used to work in the lumber yard."

"Where? There's no forestry grounds here." Gloom asked without missing a beat.

"D-down in Top Town, I'd catch the train down there four days a week for work." Willow Pot explained, shifting his cuffed hooves about uncomfortably on the table. There were mug ring stains on the wood.

"Household status?" Gloom asked.

"Um, I don't know what you mean by that..."

"Who you you live with? Where do you live? Marriage status or children?"

"No I'm not married. I, I'm still living with my parents on 2nd street." Willow Pot said, looking down.

"Thank you for confirming your details. Now if you don't mind, we'd like to talk to you about the incident yesterday morning. I assume you know what incident I'm talking about?" Gloom asked him.

"Yes." Willow Pot mumbled, sinking lower in his chair.

"Then I also assume you know why you're here." Gloom stated.

"He's here because he's a suspect, not because he's been convicted of anything." Turf Apple interjected, standing behind Willow Pot to back him up in much the same way Crimson was standing behind Gloom. 

'-when did this become a stand off?-' Gloom thought.

Willow Pot glanced up at Turf Apple, perhaps looking for some confirmation or reassurance, however despite what he'd just said to Gloom, the sheriff didn't make any motion to do as Willow Pot obviously hoped.

"Willow Pot," Gloom said, recapturing his attention, "I would like you to explain, in your own words, both what happened yesterday and why you've been arrested."

"Held for questioning, not arrested." Turf Apple butted in.

Gloom took a moment to breathe, "Willow Pot. Please answer the question." He said.

Willow Pot looked up once more to Turf Apple, but again failed to spot the reassurance he was looking for. He seemed to deflate even further, and spoke to the table.

"I'm here because I got involved in the fight. When Yellow Turn upended Fence's cart because of what Grapejuice said last week to Yellow Turn and his sister, then from last months riot and Cheese an' Onion's son having to pay the hospital bill when it wasn't their fault, an' I had to stand up for my cousin wiv' my friends, an' next thing I know Fence is kicking Yellow Turn's own cart and then Coca kicked his back on account of him supporting Mistletoe-"


Gloom brought Willow Pot's breathless rambling to an end by bringing his hoof down loudly on the table, making Willow flinch and Turf Apple scowl. The spiel Willow Pot had been mindlessly spouting held almost nothing of value and had been difficult to follow. 

'Focus on the key points.' Prey thought, listening closely, 'Yellow Turn. Last month's riot's resentment still simmering. Hospital bills and who was hospitalised.'

"Willow Pot, none of that really answers the question; why were you arrested and who started it?" Gloom asked slowly, punctuating each word clearly.

"No pony started the riot, no one anymore'n anypony else. Everypony is equally guilty on this one." Turf Apple said, putting a hoof on Willow Pot's shoulder before the hoof-cuffed pony could answer.

"Sheriff Turf Apple..." Gloom began angrily, and Crimson's wings twitched.

"A name. One name of who started the riot." The childish voice brought all of them to a stop, as the ponies looked down in surprise at Prey who had spoken, "Give us one name." Prey repeated.

"Um, er, Sheriff? Why's she here? This lamb I mean?" Willow Pot asked in bewilderment.

"Don't have a clue. Gloom here seems to think she's part of some Night Guard division or something special." Turf Apple answered, his tone barely above scornful. He'd also made special attention to stressing Gloom's name without attaching the title.

"A name," Prey repeated once more, "Just tell us a name."

Willow Pot just blinked at him, then looked at Turf Apple, as if searching for the answer of what was going on. "You aren't obligated ta' answer that, she's just a lamb, not a Guard." Turf Apple said.

Prey let out a heavy, put upon sigh, rolling his big blue eyes and making an exaggerated shrug, "Oh well, I tried to be polite. Guess we're doing this the hard way then." He said, eyes creasing shut as he smiled sweetly. He looked as intimidating as a feather pillow right then, and everyone's thoughts present told him as much.

'-lamb trying to impress, how funny-'
'-do her parents know where she is?-'
'-kid...just what are you doing?-'

And then an actual surprise for Prey. Crimson's mental walls shifted, and for a few scant seconds the pegasus's thoughts were uncovered. Prey picked up just three words, '-big bunny rabbit-' and then the walls closed again. Huh. Unexpected, but that could be considered later, right now Prey had some ponies to manipulate.

"Sheriff Turf Apple, I'd like you to consider my words, just for a moment please," Prey said, the sweet smile still in place, "What do you think happens if we think you're lying to us? Hmmm?"

Turf Apple shook off the effects of cloying innocence and managed to scowl at Prey, "Well I ain't lying about whatever thing you think it is lamb, so it don't matter."

"Oh please sheriff Turf Apple," Prey said, throwing in a childish giggle, "But of course you're lying. Didn't you know that Sargent Gloom's special talent is to be able to spot when someone is lying?" Prey asked, then slapped a hoof over his mouth and glanced anxiously at Gloom, "Oops, I wasn't supposed to let that slip yet." He said, feigning chagrin.

'-what're you doing kid?! I don't have that talent-' Gloom thoughts raced, but he managed to keep up his cool facade, merely giving Prey a chastising look like Prey really had let something slip. Crimson was just watching everything with a slightly nonplussed expression, although you had to look really close to see it.

"Oh well, the manticore is out of the bag now," Prey shrugged carelessly, "I guess you know lying is pointless now. I mean, before you came back in, Sargent Gloom already knew you would try and lie to cover for some of the prisoners because they're family, like Honey Bush. He told us to keep it quiet about how you were trying to use your authority to keep custody of them so no one else could prosecute them, because he wanted to give you enough rope to hang yourself with, and also about the mayor, and the cider bottle, and your brother's farm, and, and..." 

Prey deflated, "And I did it again." Cringing, he looked up at Gloom, "Um, sorry sir, I let slip again." He apologised, ears drooping.

Turf Apple was speechless, '-how did he know that stuff?!-'

"Thank you Prey, but that's quite enough now." Gloom said. 

Inside, the Sargent was panicking, just slightly. '-what're you talking about, I haven't a clue what game you're playing-' 

Obviously, Gloom'd worked out Prey was trying to unsettle these two enough to make them slip up, but he didn't know where to go from here without revealing that it was all a bluff, '-threw me in the deep end here kid-'

At least Prey's little act had worked, making it worth the humiliation. Turf Apple tried, and actually did a fairly good job in hiding his shock, but it was too late and they'd seen him flinch. While Willow Pot didn't quite know the importance of everything Prey had just said, he too was starting to panic because it sounded like he was getting into even more trouble.

"What do ya' think you're trying ta'-?"

"I'm sorry I shouldn't have been in the fight, I swear it won't happen again sir. What've I got to do to prove I'm innocent?" Willow Pot blurted out.

'Excellent, now let's see if Gloom knows how to capitalise on an advantage.' Prey thought sitting back in the corner, his work done.

"Since you're feeling a little more cooperative now, how about you answer my original question; who started the riot?" Gloom demanded sternly, "And please don't bother lying. I'll be asking the other suspects the same question, and if I get different answers there's going to be trouble."

"W-!" The sheriff started.

"But, but they might not know, and they'll tell you it was somepony else!" Willow Pot protested fearfully.

"Then you best be the one telling the truth. So go on, give us a name." Gloom said.

"Hold on-!" Turf Apple tried.

"But I don't know either, it might have been Yellow Turn or Fence or Scrappy Date or maybe Timmy Tommy. I just don't know, I'm sorry." Willow Pot said.

"That's good enough for now. Sheriff Turf Apple," Gloom said, turning his hard eyes on the green earth pony, "Are any of those named individuals among those being held in the cells?"

"N-" Turf Apple started, then  remembered Prey's assertion about Gloom's lie detection capabilities, and they could just go and ask for themselves anyway, "...Yes." He answered grudgingly.

"Good. Take Willow Pot," Gloom almost waved a wing towards the nervous prisoner, but at the last second remembered to do it with his hoof instead, "Back to his cell and bring one of those ponies in. Please." He added with a polite grin that held no warmth.

Prey could hear Turf Apple's thoughts racing, but there wasn't anything the sheriff could do. Wordlessly, he helped Willow Pot to his hooves and half led, half dragged him from the room.

Gloom waited for the door to close behind them before swivelling in his chair to face Prey. He raised one hoof to forestall any comment. He closed and rubbed his eyes with the other hoof. "Okay, I'm not going to ask why," He sighed, "It's pretty obvious why you did that. If a bit creepy seeing you act like a, well, a foal. But a little warning next time please?"

"I was not planning on doing that. I was merely improvising." Prey explained nonchalantly.

"I guess it worked this time, but what if they'd called the bluff? I can't actually catch lies." Gloom pointed out.

"Is that not how your talent works? You said you can tell when something was right or wrong. That sounds like the same thing." Prey said innocently.

"No, I already explained this. My cutie mark let's me know when I'm following the right track, or path, or whatever'll get me to the correct thing or decision. Sometimes. Or sometimes it doesn't say anything. It's not like it says 'yes this way' or 'no not this way'." Gloom said, rotating a hoof in the air as he tried to correctly verbalise what he was in his head. 

"It's more like... getting warmer or colder. But I don't always know to what, and sometimes it's for stuff that I don't even know I'm looking for, and it doesn't even tell me when I've found whatever it is either." 

This was the second time Prey had heard the explanation, and it was just as vague as last time. But it confirmed what he wanted to know, 'Gloom can't tell when I'm lying, only when something in his subconscious raises a flag, nor does it speak to him in absolutes. He has to interpret it.' This was good. That was one more pressing worry off Prey's shoulders. 

That still left discovery by Luna and the possible sheep doll message to worry about.

"Sir, Turf Apple isn't coming straight back. I think he's gone back into the office to do something dishonest." Crimson said, grabbing their attention.

"You sure Crimson?" Gloom asked, all business again.

"Yes sir, he went past the door. I heard the floor boards squeak." Crimson replied. Prey had been distracted and hadn't heard anything. Or maybe it was because he only had one fully working ear at the moment. 'That's no excuse, what if it had been a raiding party at the door?' Prey berated himself.

"Crimson-" Gloom began, half rising and looking towards the door. He didn't need to finish his order. Crimson was already moving, pulling the door open and almost flowing out in one motion.

Prey heard a muffled exclamation of surprise down the corridor in the sheriff's gruff voice. 

"What were you doing?" Prey heard Crimson ask flatly.

"Ain't none of your business." Turf Apple snapped. Prey stepped aside as Gloom over took him on the way to the door, stepping out ahead of him into the corridor.

"Sheriff Turf Apple, we are in the middle of an investigation. What was so important that it could not wait?" Gloom demanded. Prey stuck his head out the door. Down the corridor in the office, Crimson was blocking Turf Apple's route to the front door, while the sheriff looked a mix between worried and angry.

"Ain't none of your business. It's a personal matter." Turf Apple repeated, not budging in his denial.

"Sheriff, I'm sure we're all on the same page when I say that explanation just isn't going to fly right now." Gloom said mockingly, "Either tell me the truth or I'll have you detained for obstructing our investigation."

Turf Apple glowered from under his hat brim, "It's a personal matter. But if you must know, I t'was sending a message to my brother, not that it's any of your business." He defended.

"A message to your brother." Gloom repeated flatly.

"That's what I said." Turf Apple snorted.

"In the middle of an investigation. After the suspect gave us names. After we instructed you to go fetch them from the cells, just across the hall. And you needed to send a message to family right then?" Gloom stated in obvious scepticism.

Turf Apple didn't answer. Prey didn't know what was currently running through the sheriff's head, as where he stood at the end of the corridor was out of Prey's perception range, but it wasn't hard to guess. 'Caught red hoofed and still trying to bluster his way out of it. The only question now is, who did he send the message to?'

"Who did you send?" Gloom asked.

"I don't like your tone there."

"Then answer the question, who did you send the message with?" Gloom repeated.

Turf Apple snorted, "My personal business is my own, and has no bearing on your investigation so it ain't my duty to answer none, so you can just keep on wondering." He said, making to shove past Crimson and walk back down the corridor.

Crimson easily side stepped and smacked Turf Apple back with a wing. It wasn't a hard or fast smack. More a firm push against the sheriff's side right as he was lifting his leg to step. Turf Apple was forced to stumble backwards or overbalance.

Considering just how strong a pegasus's wings were, and despite the sheriff being a large Earth pony, Crimson could have probably knocked Turf Apple flat on his tail if he'd wanted to, especially with his strange form of martial arts training. Instead, all Crimson had done was stop the stallion from moving past him.

Turf Apple blinked, then frowned and tried again.

Exactly the same thing happened, Crimson moved aside and with a firm buffet of his wing forced Turf Apple to step back into his original position. It looked almost like Crimson was scolding him, like a pegasus mother might buffet her disobedient child.

Now Turf Apple was getting angry, and he glared at Crimson's neutral expression, "I'm warning ya', don't try that again. This here's my station and I'll go wherever I darn well please." He said.

Crimson didn't respond to him at all, just swivelled an ear back towards where Gloom stood in the corridor, "Sir?" He asked.

"Sheriff," Gloom began seriously, "I hope I don't need to explain to you just how suspicious this looks from our perspective. I think you'd best explain your actions or we'll be forced to jump to our own conclusions." He told him.

Prey could hear that Gloom already knew that; '-Turf Apple's going to just lie again, and then I'll be forced to do something I'd rather not, and I've already dealt with enough horseapples for one day. Why do things have to be so complicated?-' He thought in exasperation.

Turf Apple fixed his hat more firmly on his head, looking like he was getting ready to charge, "For the last time, it ain't any of your Royal Guard business what I say's to my family, and you ain't got any power to make me."

Prey was seriously tempted to sit back and let it come to blows. He was very interested in what Gloom would do when pushed and just how effective Crimson's moves were. In the span of a single breath Prey weighed up the pros and cons, and regretfully decided that it wasn't a worthy enough use of his time.

Right as Gloom opened his muzzle to give Crimson the order to do... what, the Sargent hadn't decided, but something, Prey said loudly, "Ohhh, wait I know! You were just about to tell us how it isn't any of our business about the warning you sent to your brother's farm just now."

"What-? Ah' did not-"

"Who did you send it with? Someone who must have been near by, in fact they must have been waiting near this jail. What did you tell them to say? To hide or destroy any evidence?" Prey said, posing one question after another, not giving anyone else a chance to speak as he pressed ahead, eyes intently watching every tell tale twitch Turf Apple made.

"What evidence would there even be to hide? Hmm, stolen goods? Money? A bribe if that's case? No, how about one of the wagons?" Prey pressed.

"The Tartarus you-?"

"Ah, I see, not something, but someone. One of the instigators of the riot, no? Yes? Ahh, yes it is, I see. And you want them protected. Why? Do you owe them? No, it's because they're family? Ahh, that's it. Like Honey Bush. Why though? What are you protecting them from?" Prey asked, then rapped his hoof against the floor board as the answer came to him.

"I see, it's who you're protecting them from. Honey Bush and some of your cousins are locked in here, away from the ponies out there, I'm right aren't I? NoDon'tDenyIt! I see now, these riots have your family split down the middle, you're trying to keep them apart. You'll do anything to protect your family, yes? What kind of stallion wouldn't? I know how it goes, loyalty to family above all else," Prey grinned hungrily at Turf Apple as he picked him apart, the sheriff only able to gape soundlessly.

"But you're being pulled both ways aren't you Turf Apple? You don't know which side of your family to take. Oh but they each want you to pick them, you're the law in this town, aren't you? Very proud of the sheriff in the family. So you're not picking, just trying to keep everyone happy. So who are you trying to keep happy on your brother's farm?" Prey took an aggressive step forwards almost without realising it.

"Who's there? Who's so important? Who would be in trouble if we found out? Who would those other suspects in the cells have named if we asked? Who would we have found at your brother's farm if you hadn't sent the message? Who? Who?" Prey almost squeaked excitedly, mind fully engaged in the job of digging out everything that Turf Apple was trying to hide.

The sound of his own high pitched voice that so annoyed him broke Prey's focus, reminding him of who was present and that perhaps he was saying too much. He'd never really had to worry about who might hear more than they were supposed to before. He'd always been alone.

"Please excuse me, I'll just be quiet now." Prey said stepping back and ducking his head, but not before he sent a nasty grin Turf Apple's way, "I think I've said enough already." He added smugly. The speechless Turf Apple flinched.

Although Crimson and Gloom were giving Prey weird looks, they knew Prey, so they weren't nearly as surprised at the trick he'd just pulled.

"I don't think there's any point in trying to hide the truth now Turf Apple, so why don't you just come clean and tell us?" Gloom asked, tone collected and in command once again.

"That's- but the, you, you told the lamb to, to,-" Turf Apple spluttered.

"Prey is a member of Princess Luna's Night Guard. You'd do well not to forget it. Now tell me, last chance, who did you send the warning to?"

Turf Apple looked at Prey who was grinning nastily at him, then at Gloom who was waiting, then at Crimson who stood ready to stop him, and then back to Gloom again. His shoulders slumped and his broad chest seemed to deflate, his jacket going slack with the gold star dangling off it. The hat covered his eyes as he looked at the ground. 

"It ain't any of your business," Turf Apple muttered, "I know you're going to find out any ways, but I can't tell you. I can't turn my back on family." He said in defeat.

"Is that you're final say sheriff?" Gloom asked calmly.

"Yeah."

Gloom didn't say anything further as he looked at the green earth pony, who seemed to have resigned himself to waiting for his fate. The silence stretched. It would've made a very dramatic scene for anyone watching, but since Prey could hear what Gloom was really thinking, he could've debunked any such foolish notions. Because internally, the Sargent was panicking.

Gloom didn't know how to proceed. His instincts and also his duty were to detain Turf Apple, but that just raised a whole host of problems.

First, he had nowhere to hold Turf Apple. He was the sheriff, there wasn't someone else who he could hoof off custody to. And what about the other suspects in the cells? Who would watch and look after them if they arrested and took Turf Apple back to Canterlot with them on the train? He couldn't very well just release them all.

'-hang on I remember. This town recently got a telegram tower installed, didn't it? I'll order them to send one back to Canterlot and get, wait...Moon blight, that's right. The telegram tower was knocked out of commission by the riot-' Gloom thought, teeth clenching together in frustration. 

And that still didn't solve the problem of who this pony was that Turf Apple had sent the warning to either. They couldn't just ignore that, and if they detained Turf Apple, they wouldn't be able to go after whom ever it was. And for that matter, who was going to oversee law in Hay Steam until they returned to Canterlot and reported the situation?

The fact if the matter was that arresting Turf Apple created far more problems than it solved, but neither could they just let him go. He was a law breaker, impeding an important investigation into serious civil unrest, and who knew what else he'd been turning a blind eye to when it involved his family?

'-what do I choose? Crimson and Prey are looking to me here, I've got to choose correctly-'

And then it came to him, Prey could hear the relief in Gloom's thoughts as a possible course of action presented itself, and a sudden feeling of 'rightness' from the Sargent's cutie mark seemed to confirm it.

"Sheriff Turf Apple," Gloom announced, "As a Sargent in the Night Guard and by special powers of my Division, I revoke your authority as sheriff and order you to surrender yourself into our custody until such time as a fair trial can be held." He told the silent stallion.

Prey knew that Gloom was skipping the proper forms of arrest, he hadn't given him his rights or said why he was arresting Turf Apple.

Turf Apple pulled the gold star off his jacket and tossed it at Gloom's hooves, "There. Never brought nothing but trouble to me." He muttered.

"Good. Now where is the registry for the ponies in the cells?" Gloom asked. Turf Apple didn't respond.

Gloom sighed, "Crimson, start looking through the office for it. It's got to be here somewhere." He ordered.

Crimson moved to obey but Turf Apple spoke up, "There ain't one. I didn't want nothing recorded on my family." The ex-sheriff said. Gloom 'Tsk'ed in disdain.

"By the way sir, the longer we wait the further away the messenger gets." Prey said quietly.

"That's a moot point by now, it's too late to catch them in time." Gloom muttered back. When next he spoke, it was at normal volume so everyone could hear, "Crimson, stay here with Turf Apple, I will be five minutes. I've got to speak to the other suspects."

Quickly Gloom trotted up the corridor to the desk, grabbed a sheet of paper and a pencil, then back to Prey and the door to the cells. The key was still in the lock, and Gloom snagged it as he entered. Prey followed him to see what he was going to do.

All the inmates in the cells froze as Gloom entered. Willow Pot, who was also back in his cell came to a spluttering halt mid way through telling the rest of the listening prisoners about the, "Scary Night Guard captain's foalnapped a lamb, and-" The horrified look on his cell mates face made Willow Pot turn around and freeze.

Gloom gave the quivering stallion an unimpressed look, before addressing the rest of the rooms similarly frozen occupants. 

"One at a time, I want you to give your name, age, and address. This is not a request. Understood?" Gloom ordered. His tone brooked no protest.

When he got no answer he repeated himself louder, "I said am I understood?"

The inmates snapped out of their silent stupor enough to give a smattering of "Yes,", "Yes sir," and even an "Aye aye."

"Good," Turning, Gloom pushed the paper and pencil across to Prey, "Here. Write their answers down." He ordered.

Prey thought it was pointless, as anything he heard he could repeat back exactly, but he was following his own advice from earlier and so did as he was told, rather than weaken their image in front of all these prisoners. Nervously, his eyes darted to the unicorn in the end cell as he picked up the pencil.

"Name, age, address." Gloom said, pointing to a dark purple earth pony mare in the first cell, who cowered when Gloom turned to her. 'Really?' Prey thought with scorn, 'He's not even that visually intimidating, especially with that Dusk Pony amulet on.'

"Speak!" Gloom barked when the mare just started to stutter uselessly, all patience gone.

"B-Bread Pudding, a-n' I'm twenty eight. I, I live at 17 Happy street." She managed to force out.

"Good. Next." Gloom said, looking to the next pony in the cell.

Quickly the round of names, ages and addresses being taken from the assembled ponies was completed. Prey hadn't managed to get much of it down on the paper, because Gloom had been asking too fast, but it didn't matter, he'd remember.

Gloom finished up with the last pony and strode back to the centre of the room where all the occupants of the cells could see him. "Listen up everypony, because here's what's going to happen, and you'd best pay close attention as this is going to affect your immediate future." He announced.

"As of right now, I'm releasing you all on bail."

All of the ponies stared at the Night Guard Sargent. 

"What?" Someone faintly asked.

"You are to be released on bail," Gloom repeated. "However," He growled before anyone could start celebrating, "Make no mistake, you are still very much in trouble, but that can wait until the proper trial. Any actions you take between now and then will have an enormous impact on your hearing. And there will be a hearing, you can bet your tail on it. We have your names, faces, age, cutie marks and addresses."

Gloom paused to give them a hard, yellow stare, "So to anypony thinking of skipping out, you might want to carefully reconsider your ill advised plan. Right now, the charges against you aren't too serious. However if you want to upgrade that to outlaw status, and to be hounded across Equestria by the Guard, feel free. The punishment for outlaws is a two year sentence. Minimum."

That seemed to properly cow the inmates to Gloom's satisfaction, because he nodded firmly once to let them all know he'd made his point, then he walked up and unlocked the closest cell door. 

"Let everypony else out," He ordered, tossing the key to one of the two apprehensive earth ponies inside. He raised his voice:

"And remember what I said. For your own good and the good of your loved ones, don't do anything stupid." 

Spinning on his back hooves, Gloom marched for the door, "Come on Prey, we've a pony to find."


---


Down the end of the corridor in the office, Crimson was standing watch over the former sheriff right where they'd left them.

"Sir?"

"No time. We've got a trouble maker to find. Talk as we go." Gloom glanced at Turf Apple, "Get out of here. The Royal Guard will be here in the morning. Don't make this any harder than it needs to be." He said as he headed for the door.

'That was not how I would have gone about securing the prisoners. I would have left them in those cells, especially with an unbound unicorn in there. Far to dangerous to get close. And I would either have killed or mind wiped Turf Apple.' Prey thought, then groaned as he realised Gloom and Crimson were going to leave him behind. Again.

Breaking into a ungainly run on his tired hooves, Prey dashed past the slumped Turf Apple. He caught a quick read of the depressed ex-sheriff's thoughts as he went, '-well, nothing for it old Colt. I hope the bar is open right now-'. 

'Serves you right for getting caught.' Prey thought. Ahead, Gloom and Crimson were still accelerating. Damn.

'I hate being a runt.'


---I---