//------------------------------// // (E1) Chapter 4: Delirium // Story: Strange Alchemy // by Starscribe //------------------------------// I took little pride in being right. The guards searched us right there on the street, though they didn’t find much. I had a knife kept somewhere obvious, and a few tools I’d hidden away a little better. Calico hadn’t brought anything they cared about, though they stole her little pouch of bits and seemed to enjoy just how hurt it made her look. I hope that isn’t everything you had left. We went straight into the sewer entrance I’d found, then down a series of tunnels until it connected with the caverns. Instead of dark and secret, the whole place was a flurry of activity. Dozens of ponies rushed about in a single vaulted cavern—pulling empty carts in, or taking away full carts with clinking bottles. There were numerous little tents, like a compact city hidden in the caves. I would’ve been impressed with the place, if it didn’t seem so oppressive. There were guards down here, but not wearing city armor. A constant stink of unwashed bodies and desperation seemed to fill the whole cavern, rising up through the caves above us to infect all of Canterlot. It didn’t take much looking around to see that most of the ponies here weren’t sticking around by choice. There had to be a dozen prisoners at least, wearing crude wooden hobbles around their hooves and wandering inside the little prison. Maybe it was the harsh torchlight, but the color was washed from their bodies, and their steps seemed halfhearted. Like they kept living on pure spite. “How can this be down here?” Calico whispered to me, when the sound of whatever these ponies were doing got loud enough that our conversation would be hard to hear. “Princess Celestia wouldn’t let this happen, would she?” Typical upper district. Even a unicorn down on her luck like Calico trusted to the royal family with everything she had. Even when the evidence against it stared her in the face. “No, she wouldn’t,” I agreed. “But what she doesn’t know can’t be fixed, can it?” “Quiet!” barked the stout escort, silencing us. We could share no more than a meaningful look as we continued on past the camp. I half feared we might get tossed in with the other ponies right then—though I was confident in my ability to get away. Except that all these ponies are letting us see them. I’ve memorized their cutie marks. If they didn’t care about witnesses, then… “In there,” the guard said, pointing to an ordinary door set into the wall. Compared to the chaos behind us, it seemed completely out of place, with fine wood and carpet visible within. There was the steady glow of electric lights coming from within as well, shining in even contrast to the torches outside. I stopped at the door, eyeing it suspiciously. Our escort didn’t appreciate the delay, and I felt a painful shove on my flank, tripping me through the doorway. I expected Calico would be tumbling in behind me any second, but she squealed in protest, jerking suddenly away from me. “MIDNIGHT!” I tried to get around to look at her, but I was too slow. The door snapped closed behind me, and I could hear the sound of locks securing into place. I surged forward, pounding on it with my hooves, but to no avail. The wood didn’t even budge. “They better not hurt you, Calico,” I muttered, turning slowly around. There was no use trying to break the door down more forcefully, not yet. If there were still all the guards on the other side, they would only rush in and put an end to my escape. Then I’d be out my only weapon and still trapped. They put me in here for a reason. What is it? I turned slowly around, trying to take in every detail of my surroundings as quickly as I could. The room hardly seemed like a torture chamber. It looked like a modest but comfortable Canterlot apartment, rather like the one I lived in. All one room—kitchen, sitting area, bedroom in one corner. There was a single door on the far wall that would’ve led to the bathroom if this was really what it appeared. The decorations were all simple, but charming. Though how they’d got electricity all the way down here I couldn’t even guess. “I heard you were asking after me,” said a voice from the other side of the room. Had somepony been standing there before? There was a mare there now—an earth pony almost as tall as I was, lean with age and maybe a little griffon blood. At least, I assumed that was one explanation for how she could look like she wanted to tear my throat out. She wore simple white clothing, not all that different from the outfits Quicklime wore on a daily basis. The clothes somepony wore who didn’t want to get splashed. “You’re Delirium,” I said, turning to face her. I stood alert, without making any sudden movements. If this was the boss, then I was in serious danger here. I wouldn’t have been locked in here alone unless she didn’t feel like she was in any danger. “And you’re still alive,” she answered, seating herself comfortably on one of the sofas. She didn’t seem to be wearing weapons—certainly nothing as bulky as a crossbow. Then again, earth ponies were like living weapons themselves if I got too close. I didn’t get any closer. “That’s impressive. Few ponies recover fast enough to land in the dark. I suppose those ears are an unfair advantage.” “Are you trying to recruit me?” I sat down on my haunches across the room, giving her the harshest of my dirty looks. “It won’t work. I don’t want what you’re selling.” She shrugged one shoulder, golden fur shifting under the coat. “You might want to think twice about that. I looked you up, Midnight Oil.” Her grin widened—she’d seen my discomfort. “You’re lucky—no one for me to manipulate. No family in town I could arrange something unfortunate to happen to. Far as I can tell, you live alone in some flat, working your life away on something dull and thankless and just pretending your work matters. Well, how about a change? Anypony who can find me is obviously wasting their powers as another cog in the machine. Break free of all those sprockets and let somepony else move you.” I couldn’t let my relief show. She hadn’t figured out about Quicklime, or my dad’s flat down in Ponyville. I certainly wasn’t going to explain her mistakes. “And what would you offer instead? I know what you’re dealing in, Delirium. I know this is where the Bliss comes from.” She stiffened in her seat—apparently she hadn’t thought I’d connected those dots. “If you know about the Bliss, then you should know you’re wrong. I don’t deal in suffering—I make ponies happy. I bring them joy. Bliss. But you wouldn’t have to get your hooves dirty with any of that. No, you have access to the Archives. You could get into the Vault, and all the artifacts it contains. You know the Opal is one of six objects like it. If a pony had them all…” She let that hang in the air. “Why don’t we skip to the part where I tell you to shove your offer to Tartarus,” I growled, baring my fangs. “What happens next?” She sighed, rising from the couch and looking away. “Then I send Slipwing in here to suck every drop of love and happiness in your body. It’s not her natural method of feeding. I think you’ll find it’s quite miserable for both of you. But I’ll enjoy it very much.” I shrugged, as though I didn’t care. “I don’t know what you’re talking about… but I think you’ll find it’s not that easy. Your stupid trapdoor didn’t kill me. That won’t either.” She shrugged, turning to go. “Oh, it won’t kill you. Not for a few months. But I’ll make sure you never leave this facility. I’ll make sure that by the time we bury you, there’s less left than those husks outside. And when she’s done with you, I’ll send your friend in next, and we can see if she’s more cooperative.” She left, snapping the door shut behind her. I didn’t try to follow. That left me alone in the silence—alone with my two hidden vials the guards hadn’t found. I didn’t have much time alone. I darted into a corner of the room, away from any glass, facing into the walls. I wasn’t sure what she was using to watch, but hopefully it wouldn’t work. I drained half the antidote vial, then tucked it away into an easier-to-reach pocket. I’d never drank this particular potion before—but it was so sour going down that I almost started retching. I resisted the urge, straightened and returned to the chair. I picked the large mirror and stared straight into it, defiant. Let Delirium see just how little I was frightened over her. The door opened again, and immediately I felt something tugging at my mind. Magic, oppressive and overpowering, wrapping around my senses like a vice. Somehow I knew it was supposed to be sensual, but for some reason I could only feel nausea bubbling in my stomach. I was right. Thanks for the antidote, Quicklime. Then I looked up, and saw Calico standing there. Except… something was wrong. She no longer seemed afraid, or even smugly confident. If anything, she looked like there was a sway to her step, eyes just a tiny bit glazed. She was trying for seductive, but what she actually looked was drunk. “Calico?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “What are you… doing in here?” I watched her approach, conscious of how the world kept shifting. The closer she got, the more sick to my stomach I felt, and the more wrong she looked. I backed away, eyes getting a little wider. It looked almost as though the edges of her body were fraying, and there was something black and hard underneath. What kind of magic is this? Luna, Celestia, someone! Get me out of here! Of course they didn’t answer. “I’ve been following you around for too long,” said the thing that looked a little like Calico. “I’ve seen how you looked at me. I know what you want. I’m yours now, Midnight. I’m ready for you.” Maybe I would’ve fallen for it—if I hadn’t just taken an antidote and heard Delirium ranting about how I would be an empty husk. But why did she look like that? I had an idea. “Sure, Calico.” I stepped forward, fighting my revulsion. Her curves looked stretched to me, her seductive scent tinged with something rotting. Sure as Tartarus you never wore that perfume, kid. “It’s true. I’ve wanted you for all this time. I didn’t make it a secret.” “And now you never have to,” she said, stopping just in front of me. Her eyes traveled down my body, magic gently tugging at my coat. “Come on, Midnight. We’re alone. We should… enjoy our time together.” My head swam. Even with the antidote, I was starting to lose sight of just how strange Calico was acting. She was so close, and it’d been so long since I’d been with someone like her. It wouldn’t be hard to give in. I leaned forward to kiss her, slow and nervous. She leaned forward to meet me, letting me take my time. Her eyes were closed, just like the hint of shyness I would’ve expected from the real Calico. Instead of meeting her lips, I tilted the glass vial down her throat with the rest of the antidote, yanking her head back with my other hoof. I held her mouth closed, fangs inches from her throat. “You’ll wanna swallow that, sweetheart. Or this will go badly.” I held on, glaring my fiercest slitted-eye glare for this Calico imposter until I saw her throat move. Then I let go, and let her struggle away from me like a mouse caught in a cage with a cat. She opened her mouth to say something—then she melted. The fur puffed away in a flash of green magic, and suddenly I could see the hard, black thing underneath clearly. Her eyes became multifaceted and insectoid, her body smaller and legs pierced with… holes? And around her neck, set into a thick iron collar with a huge lock at the back, was a black opal that swirled and shattered the light into a dozen rainbows. I knew what this was. She was a changeling, one of the same creatures that had briefly taken over the city a few years back. Suddenly what Delirium had said about harvesting and sucking dry made perfect sense. Have you been here this whole time, hiding underground? No, not hiding. Captured. As she watched me, the changeling didn’t look like an invading conqueror. “What… happened? I can… why was I doing that?” Her voice shook me to my gut, reverberating and stretched. It was hard not to be revolted. And maybe another pony would’ve been. But I’ve been around Canterlot a long time. Ponies have looked at me that way, whispered how I was scary and dangerous too. How many bats lived in the upper city? None I knew. “You’ve been captured,” I muttered, though I didn’t close the distance between us. That would only look threatening to her. “Enslaved. Probably Delirium had you drunk on the same poison you were giving me. I just gave you an antidote.” “Delirium,” she repeated, slumping into a corner. “She won’t be happy. When she figures out I’m not feeding on you… she’ll hurt me. Hurt you too.” “No,” I said, voice firm. “What’s your name, kid?” She looked almost indignant. Whatever she was expecting from my reaction, this wasn’t it. “Slipwing,” she said, voice very small. “Aren’t you afraid?” “Yes,” I answered. “Afraid of getting trapped down here.” I slipped my coat off, tossing it to her. It would be a little big on her, probably drag like nopony’s business. “Put this on, and come with me. I know someone who can get that collar off.” Her wings buzzed angrily, and she surged over to me. I was almost afraid, except that she was unarmed and a full head shorter than I was. What was she going to do, bug me to death? “Why are you helping me? We attacked you!” she exclaimed, hovering above the ground and glaring at me. I shrugged. “We can get philosophical about it later. For now, put that on and stand away from that door.” I drew out my other vial, filled as it was with angry green. It was safe so long as it stayed sealed. I made my way over to the door, and shouted through it. “Calico, get away from the door!” There was an angry grunt on the other side—one of the guards. “What do you think you’re doing?” Good enough for me. I shoved Slipwing to the side with me, and threw the vial against the door with all my might. The resulting explosion shook the cavern above us, and sent bits of crystal tumbling down somewhere far away. I heard them strike with a sound like shattering glass. But I couldn’t wait. “Come on, Slipwing! We’re getting out of here!” I looked back at where she’d been standing, and saw myself wearing the coat. Well, what I might’ve looked like if I’d been on the edge of terror. She kept looking back at the other door, and sure enough I could hear the locks from within shifting and moving. Somepony was coming. Just outside, a group of guards had scattered from all around the door, looking like they’d all been too banged up to chase me anytime soon. Calico had apparently obeyed my instructions, because she only looked stunned. I bent down, tearing through the bindings around her hooves with my teeth, then gestured up towards the ceiling. There was light coming from up above. “Slipwing, can you help me carry her?” The copy of me nodded, then answered with my voice. “I am not a very good flyer.” “Neither am I. Just help me. Loop Calico’s leg there, and… we’re out.” Then I looked up, and saw that someone else had the same idea. It was Delerium’s retreating back, carrying heavy saddlebags of equipment and with only a single guard to protect her. She’s making a run for it. She knows we’re about to tell the authorities about this place. But the ocean of guards didn’t seem to know that, and they surged towards us again, ready to latch on. I could hear screaming from all around us—terrified yells from the prisoners, shouting guards. Another day, Delirium. I would’ve rather gone after her, but not with one drugged pony and one terrified prisoner to get to safety. I’ll find you. Slipwing wasn’t a very good flyer, but we didn’t have far to go. Sixty or so feet up, and the ceiling opened into another sewer access. We landed in a heap, the sound of pursuit all around us. Calico was still swaying on her hooves, looking drowsy from whatever they’d given her. She’d need some antidote when we got to Quicklime’s place. If we could make it to Quicklime’s place. We ran. Calico was alert again by the time we found our first locked door, and she teleported the lock to the backside of not here. I kicked it out of our way, along with several “No Trespassing” signs. We trespassed right over them and stumbled out onto a lower-district street. I tossed the leather case holding the Soma Opal onto the table at Fancypants’s hooves, trying to look as cool and professional as I could while I did it. Slipwing had torn my jacket several new rips along the way, but that didn’t matter. That would only make me look cooler. “I believe this is what you were looking for.” Fancypants eyed me skeptically. “Friend on the constabulary told me you were involved in something last night. You found where they were making the Golden Bliss, didn’t you?” I nodded, leaning over the seat across from him. I didn’t actually sit in it, though I didn’t anticipate having to make any kind of narrow escape. Not tonight. “Did you hear if they caught Delirium?” Calico had been the one to give the tip, and we hadn’t stuck around to watch the investigation. But the tabloids were buzzing about the ponies rescued from in there, hospitals at capacity, all that. Fancypants’s eyebrows went up, and that was all the answer I needed. “She got away.” His horn glowed, and the little pouch opened in front of him. There was the Opal, none the worse for wear for sitting in Quicklime’s shop most of the night. He’d dissolved the iron collar well enough, but not that. Fancypants seemed prepared for this test—he opened a drawer, drew out a glass of something green and thick, and dropped the Opal into it. It sizzled and smoked, and I watched the contents boil away to a thin layer of something almost clear, gathered near the bottom. “You actually did it.” I nodded. “I went to Tartarus and back for that thing.” Maybe it hadn’t been wise to bring it right back to him. Maybe I should’ve done something to guarantee I’d be paid. But no—Fancypants was already reaching into another drawer. He lifted out a small case, then opened it to expose the strips of platinum inside. Each one counted for a thousand bits. There was twice what I was expecting. “All this if you can tell me how the Opal was stolen in the first place. I did know, now. Calico had been right all along about the guards acting weird. Because that guard had been Slipwing, and the real one had been in no condition to guard anything. There would be something sweet about seeing that jerk get a little of what was coming to him. But that would mean bringing Slipwing out into the light. She’d been the one producing the Golden Bliss—even if she hadn’t meant to, even if she’d been enslaved. I knew how this worked. If she went into the Equestrian justice system, it would grind her to dust. “You didn’t hire me for that,” I said instead. “I’m no good with security—I just find things.” Fancypants sighed, then removed a little pouch and dumped half the strips of platinum into it. He passed me the half-empty case. “Very well. You’ve clearly done your side of the bargain. Is there any particular reason somepony else is taking credit for it?” He tossed something else onto the desk between us. The Canterlot Questioner. With Calico’s face grinning out on the cover. “Calico Mazuma Smashes Bliss Cartel” it said. I only smiled, tucking the case of payment away. It was more money than I’d held in my life, but I would keep acting cool. “I don’t want ponies knowing who I am,” I said. “But my partner enjoys the spotlight.” “I didn’t know you had a partner.” I shrugged, rising to my hooves. “Guess I do now.” “I hope you don’t mind, but the sort of pony who needs services like yours don’t go to the tabloids. I may call on you again in the future. You’ve prevented a dangerous embarrassment for my family.” “Sure,” I answered. “Sounds great. But I might have a new office next time. I’m sick of that closet.” “You sure you wouldn’t rather get out of the city?” I asked, for the third or fourth time. We stood in a tiny flat—the one I now owned thanks to one of Fancypants’s platinum bits. Slipwing didn’t seem to even see the dingy walls, the worn-out furniture. The changeling grinned up at me like I’d just set a feast before her fit for a princess. “You don’t know what this means to me,” she said, wrapping her forelegs around me in a hug. It felt a little strange, fur on hard shell like that. But not a bad strange. “I always wanted to live here. I think I’ve learned how to be a pony after all… after everything Delirium made me do. She won’t find me.” “Don’t let the constabulary find you either,” Calico said, emerging from the kitchen with a nervous look on her face. “Just because none of your neighbors will ask questions doesn’t mean they’re blind.” Was that a sour look on Calico’s face? Was she actually jealous? I felt myself grinning wider at that. “I know,” Slipwing said again. “I’ll be careful. Thank you both for everything. And tell the… smelly one I’m grateful for him too.” “I’ll tell him you called him that.” We left down the back stairs, slipping out into a Canterlot night of blowing fog. Slipwing’s new flat wasn’t far from where I lived—though I didn’t want Calico to know that. She watched me with an expression I couldn’t read. Maybe desire, maybe just indigestion. “You think you did the right thing, letting her go like that? After what her kind did to Canterlot?” I shrugged. “It’s in the past. Bats like me weren’t exactly kind to Equestria way back when either. But things change. Rebellions end, invasions fail, and the ponies left behind just want a friend.” She rolled her eyes. “If you say so, Midnight Oil.” “I do,” I said, holding out a little pouch towards her. “Take it. Don’t open it here—too many eyes watching us.” She shook the bag in her magic, listening to the sound of metal clinking around inside. Then she tucked it away. “I never asked for any bits.” “Maybe not,” I agreed. “But you’ll need some. Don’t lose your house. I’ve got more than enough to go part time at the Archives while I focus a little more on investigating. I kind of told Fancypants you’re my partner now, so I hope it’s true.” “Let me think about it,” she said. Then she kissed me.