//------------------------------// // Episode 05: The Boss // Story: Bulletproof Heart // by PaulAsaran //------------------------------// 24th of Falling Heat, 1005 BA The Dragon’s Teeth rose high above Rarity and Little Strongheart, like a wall of blades attempting to spear the stars. A confusing mix of emotions ran through Rarity at the sight of them. For one, she had to appreciate just how hard the griffons had pushed the ponies two days ago. Even with the benefit of Fleetfeather carrying her so far from the ambush, it had taken her and Little Strongheart a day-and-a-half to get back into the rocky hills. There was also frustration. After spending so much time trying to get down here, a bunch of bone-headed bulls were going to make her go back north. And that led to fear, for she knew the Apples were looking for her. It could be that the buffalo had signed her death warrant by kicking her out like this. Yet the fear was not only for herself. What of Troublemaker, his parents, or any of the others who had been captured? Any of them could be dead now, dead because of her rushed plan. Maybe some other griffons got away with more prisoners, who were doomed to be slaves until they’d been worked to their deaths. Rarity was almost desperate to go looking for them, to see the damage with her own eyes, but it had become abundantly clear she’d never be able to do that. Her only hope was to wait for them to show up at the mountains. A foolish notion, as the survivors would almost certainly arrive in some other location. She’d be waiting for nothing. This all lead to a bitter annoyance with her current companion. Little Strongheart maintained such a scorching disposition that Rarity wondered if the Scorched Plains were so entirely because of her. The young buffalo barely said anything, and when she did it was always aggressive and rude. It seemed the only thing that kept her from abandoning Rarity was a fear of being found out by her uncle and grandfather. Rarity almost wished she would, if only to be rid of the infuriating cow. Oh, she’d tried being friendly, but after so much time she’d given up the task as hopeless. By now she reacted with as much snark and bite as she was given, and felt no guilt in the matter. Slap on top of all of this her physical condition: baking hot, dirty, and radiating the stench of sweat. Granted, these things were commonplace nowadays. For all intents and purposes, Rarity knew she should be used to it. Yet all it did now was add to her bitter disposition. Indeed, Rarity imagined ‘bitter’ defined everything about her at the moment. Loathsome thoughts filled her mind, aimed at everything from Little Strongheart to the Scorched Plains to Braeburn Apple. She even went so far as to curse Celestia and her stupid sun. Maybe if she’d been half as great as her sister she’d have come back already and put the accursed orb of fiery, death-dealing heat in its proper place. At least she wasn’t sore anymore from the forced march. Small relief, but still a relief. “Hey, bonehead.” Her thoughts faded away as she cast a glare at Little Strongheart. As much as she wanted to retort with some equally foolish misnomer, Rarity elected to take the higher path. At least this way she could feel as if she were the better pony… er, individual. She couldn’t keep the disdain out of her “Yes?”, though. Little Strongheart waved a hand at the surroundings hills. “This is it.” Following her motion, Rarity realized they were standing beside a small cave entrance. She cocked her head and examined her surroundings, but found no apparent paths leading away from the cave. “So the tunnel goes across to the other side?” “Assuming you don’t get lost in there,” Strongheart muttered. “Here’s hoping.” Rarity snorted and examined the cave a little more closely. The ground before it was covered in tall, dry weeds, suggesting the thing saw little use. Seeing as it was already night, she could not see beyond the first foot or so into its depths. “This hardly seems safe. How will I know which tunnels to take once I’m inside?” “Not my problem.” Strongheart crossed her arms and took a look at the mountains stretching high above them. “The pass you ponies used is another two days west of here. You don’t have the food to make it for that long.” Annoyance or no annoyance, Rarity had to acknowledge the truth in her words. “So what’s to stop me from going over the mountains?” Strongheart rolled her eyes and heaved a sigh that almost impressed with its length and ability to convey passive aggressiveness. “No pass. No path. It’ll take you days to get over the mountains here.” She tilted back to look up at the sky with squinting eyes. “Plus the griffons like to fly over this part of the mountains. So hey, if you want to be a slave, be my guest. I’m sure a pansy pony like you would love to have guaranteed free meals and maybe a roof over her head for the insignificant price of spreading her legs once or twice a year and popping out workhorses.” Rarity ground her teeth and kept her hands clenched into fists. It may have been the only thing keeping her from going for Silver Lining. She approached the cave, pausing just before the narrow, black mouth. Once sure she could keep from descending to the child’s level, she growled out, “Thank you for the escort.” “Don’t mention it. Seriously. Oh, and watch your step.” Blinking, Rarity leaned forward and looked down. She saw nothing in the shadows. “What for—hey!” She tipped forward from Strongheart’s rough shove on the small of her back and careened into the darkness. Her hands shot forward… and touched nothing. She began to roll, her jumbled mind picked up on the fact that she was going down a slope. Grunting and yelping the whole way, Rarity finally landed in a heap at the bottom. Groaning, aching from head to hoof, she rolled onto her back and looked up, but she couldn’t even see the cave entrance. Seconds passed, but Strongheart didn’t call down. In all likelihood, she’d already walked away. “That could have killed me, you little witch.” Rarity said the words, but could put no emotion into them. Her hands roamed over her body, checking for any serious damage, but it seemed she’d come away with nothing more than some bruises. Small relief, that. Now she was stuck at the bottom of a hole with no idea what direction she’d even come in from, trapped in total darkness and just a faint hope that she’d be able to find her way out, much less across the mountains. So Rarity did the only thing her weary, bitter thoughts could conjure up. Using her pack as a pillow, she prepared to get some much needed sleep. It might not have been a good idea, but she was just too tired, sore, and depressed to care. Maybe she’d have a clearer path when she woke up. Waking up was not a pleasant experience. It involved soreness, stiffness, a back that ached from sleeping on solid stone, and the awareness that her conversation with Coco and her mother at a familiar café in Mooisville was, in fact, nothing but a dream. Being hungry, thirsty, and hot didn’t help. But Rarity wasn’t defeated yet. So, as much as the very idea of movement brought grumbling curses of malicious intent upon the holy heads of the Sisters, she forced herself to her knees. Her knees, which hadn’t yet recovered from the torture she’d put them through in the last few days and so burned with a mild fire. She stretched, wincing at the sound of her popping joints. “When I finally get back to something resembling civilization, I swear to smother myself in comforts for at least a week. Probably two.” That assumed she would ever get to some place resembling civilization. She cast her gaze around and quickly discovered a shaft of light above her head. It clearly came from the cave opening she’d been pushed through. It wasn’t as high up as she’d suspected, but it was certainly too high and the slope too steep to make for a viable escape. “I suppose I should count my lucky stars,” she grumbled while grabbing her pack. “A fall like that really could have killed me.” At least she’d finally gotten some sleep. The thought of being ambushed in the night by griffons had kept her up the previous night in spite of her exhaustion, but it seemed fatigue had finally caught up with her this time. How long had she been out? Too long, if her still-protesting back was anything to go by. Pulling out the remaining loaf of bread, she dutifully broke only a fourth of it off for eating. She could have had half – she was sure Pounding Sands had intended it that way – but she couldn’t be sure how long she’d be trapped in the dark. How fortunate that her waterskins hadn’t come open from the fall, though it seemed at least a little bit had been lost. She took a small drink from one of them, tied it to the waistband of her dirty, ripped jeans and carefully hung the pack over her shoulder. She cast one last look to the light above, half hoping she’d see some way to get up there. But there wasn’t, so she heaved a deep sigh and marched into the darkness, nibbling on her small piece of bread. It didn’t take long for the shaft of light to be lost in the dark. Rarity cast that most basic of unicorn spells – a dab of Orange to change darkness to light and a touch of Blue to brighten it, creating a pale blue aura to see by – and found herself in a tunnel. It was wide enough for maybe two ponies to walk side by side, but only just tall enough for her to stand without having to duck her head. The ground was rough and uneven, forcing her to climb over small hills, slide down short but steep slopes, and keep her eyes downward half the time to avoid tripping on exposed rocks. It proved a tiring experience that aggravated her aching muscles, and thus her. Nor was the tunnel a straight path. It twisted, turned, rose and fell without any clear pattern. It didn’t maintain any consistency at all, at times being large enough to easily walk through and at others forcing her to crouch in order to proceed. She wondered if there wouldn’t be times when she’d have to crawl to pass through, although such a problem had yet to occur. The thought alone was enough to unnerve her though. After what seemed like hours, but may have been mere minutes, she came upon a fork in the tunnel. One path led up in a steep but not unnavigable climb. The other led downwards in a smooth slope. “Wonderful,” she muttered, ears folding flat at the resultant echo. “Couldn’t you have given me some guidance, Strongheart?” She pondered the situation for a while, but knew she couldn’t linger for long. Although she acknowledged that going up was probably the safer route for keeping her close to the surface, Rarity just couldn’t bring herself to make such an arduous climb. She took the smooth slope deeper into the earth. Time passed. More rocks and tunnel went by. A few more forks appeared, sometimes two paths, sometimes three. She tried to always pick the route taking her further up, but sometimes that just wasn’t possible. The air gradually cooled, eventually becoming quite pleasant – about the only positive she could find in this dark place. There was so much she didn’t know. What direction was she even facing? If she wanted to, could she make her way back to the entrance? How confident could she really be that there was even another exit, much less one on the north side of the mountains? The more Rarity pondered, the more she feared that Little Strongheart might have intentionally led her to her death. For this reason, she tried not to think much. That proved difficult considering there wasn’t anything else to do. Rarity was surrounded by nothing but darkness and stone. At times it felt as if the little bubble of light around her horn was the entire universe. She could never know what was ahead or behind. The cramped spaces gave her a nauseous feeling, a sense of having nowhere to go, no freedom to choose. If something happened to be down here with her, she’d have no options for escape. And what, exactly, could be hiding down here? The flickering light of her horn created dancing shadows that taunted her imagination with wicked images. It seemed even bare, plain stone could appear threatening under the right circumstances. Rarity kept a tight grip on her pack and walked in a hunched pose so that she might break into a sprint at any moment. Her ears twisted and flicked in search of sounds beyond her absurdly loud hoofsteps. She wouldn’t stop. She didn’t dare, not even for a bite to eat when her stomach began to growl. If she stopped, she might never escape. The darkness would close in and consume her, and she’d wither away in a forgotten tomb beneath the earth. Her parents would never know. In a hundred years, would some explorer discover her pale bones and wonder why she’d come down here all alone? She wasn’t supposed to die here. She was supposed to die in a soft bed in an elegant mansion, surrounded by fans, family and friends! The last thought struck her hard, and Rarity exercised the willpower necessary to still her aching legs. She took a few deep breaths and took a long drink of water. “You’re being silly, Rarity,” she whispered to herself, eyes on her hooves. “You’re not going to die here. Little Strongheart said these tunnels would lead you to the northern side of the mountains.” If you didn’t get lost. She grimaced and, dropping to one knee, set her pack down. “Shut up, brain. You’re not helping.” She broke off another fourth of her bread, closed the pack and took a seat, back pressed against the hard stone wall. “I’ll just rest my legs for a few minutes, then go on. If I’ve got to eat, then maybe half a day has gone by. I’m making progress.” She ate slowly, ears swiveling in the silence. That was all they found. Even her chewing seemed inordinately loud in this place. She glanced one way, then another. Nothing but bare stone and dancing shadows. It was so terribly quiet… “This place could use an aesthetic touch,” she muttered, if only for something to listen to. “What kind of artwork befits a black, empty cave?” A bite. The bread was stiff, requiring a lot of chewing before it could go down her throat comfortably. That was good. It distracted her. “Maybe some floral accents.” She studied the piece of bread in her hands for a time, mind devoid of any fresh ideas. Then, out of nowhere… “Gems.” She raised her head, eyeing the flickering shadows on the opposite wall. “Of course. How obvious, Rarity. Underground locals require underground décor. Gems would be perfect.” A bite of bread. A long period of quiet chewing. Swallow. “I wonder if there are any down here?” Without hesitation, she began casting the familiar gem-finding spell she’d learned as a foal. Picturing the magic in her head, she started with Orange to detect minute changes in the rock. It had to be just the right pattern, with the tiniest hint of Red mixed in to make the detection more precise. She’d always been proud of this little spell, as it was more complicated than what the average unicorn might produce. With the basic setup complete, she gave it the scarcest touch of Indigo she could, a means of propelling the magic outwards from her horn. The only thing left was to apply some Blue and Orange to give the detected gemstones a proper glow in her mind’s eye. Once all the interlocking pieces appeared to be properly set the spell was ready, and she released it, the blue aura of her horn magnifying a fraction. To her disappointment, nothing appeared in the surrounding walls. How… boring. It seemed the Dragon’s Teeth lacked the one thing dragons were most known for. What a disappoint—“What’s this?” The exact ‘what’ eluded her, but Rarity’s magically enhanced sight indicated something colorful beyond the darkness to her right and a little above her. The distance from her had to be significant, considering how the colors all blurred together in a fuzzy mess. Given that the thing was the size of her fist, she could only conclude that, whatever it was, it was big. Perhaps she was looking at some sort of gem vein? A small smile tweaked Rarity’s lips. She had no expectation of being able to take advantage of this find now, but if she could get out of these caves and fund an expedition, perhaps she’d find she’d just hit the jackpot. This entire fiasco of a journey might have proved worth it after all. She promptly scowled and slapped the side of her head. “No, Rarity! You murdered ponies, and may be responsible for the deaths of others. No amount of personal gain is worth that.” She thought about the Bad Apple Gang and their undoubtedly ongoing pursuit of her life. Gems and bits would do nothing to assuage her guilt, but perhaps she could use this discovery to pay off her ‘debt’ and keep from being hunted for the rest of her life. If she could find it again. Rarity rubbed her necklace as she pondered the situation. Perhaps, if she got close enough, she’d be able to plant a marker spell on the vein. Finding it afterwards would be a simple feat. She just had to hope the tunnels took her sufficiently close to it… while at the same time leading her out of the mountains. She was lost as it was; at least this gave her a direction. “After all,” she huffed while forcing herself to her hooves, “it’s not as if walking away from the vein will have any more of a guarantee of escape.” In a way, Rarity knew her little plan was ridiculous. Possibly even suicidal. Gem veins were found inside mountains, after all, so following a tunnel closer to them would almost certainly not lead her outside. But this one was above her, and she needed to go up to get out anyway, right? She whispered an apology to the Sisters for her earlier rudeness before asking them to help her get out of this situation alive. Time had little meaning in a world of darkness. Rarity could only guess as to how long she'd been trekking, by the pangs of hunger and thirst, and by the way gem vein shifted as she moved. Sometimes she was forced to move away from it by the twisting and turning cave system, and twice so far she’d ended up at a dead end and forced to retrace her hoofsteps. Hunger gnawed at her insides, but she steadfastly refused to eat. If she went until she was ready to sleep, she might be able to stretch her remaining bread out to another two days. Assuming that a need for sleep indicated a day’s passing, that is. Despite the natural randomness of the tunnels, the gem vein steadily grew closer and closer. Rarity focused all her attention on it. The gems were, by now, more of a tool than a destination. So long as she kept her mind on them and forced herself to think of how they might be utilized, the less she thought about her grumbling stomach, her ever-present thirst, and the miniature Rarity in the back of her head. That mini-Rarity was on the edge of panic, doing its level best to point out all things wrong with her current situation. It kept trying to remind her that she was at death’s door, that she might never find her way out of these tunnels, that Little Strongheart had betrayed her to her doom. If Rarity didn’t exert all her will into trying to get to that gem vein and further upwards, she might find herself actually listening to that voice. Under no circumstances could she let that happen. Exhaustion ate at Rarity’s strength, accompanied by hunger too great to ignore. Rarity knew it was probably time to have another fourth of her bread and get some sleep. Only one thing stopped her from doing this. She stood transfixed, gazing open-mouthed upon a small diamond in the wall. Except that the diamond didn’t belong there. It wasn’t ‘in’ the wall, not really. Rather, it sat on a small, curved edge that the round gem loosely rested in. The setup was too perfect to be natural. Oh, and it glowed. Not like the now-nearby gem vein glowed due to her gem-finding spell, but as in real light making this portion of the tunnel clearly visible to the naked eye. Was it an illusion? A vision brought forth by her hunger pangs, weariness and the little pony running frantic circles in the back of her head, or had somepony come down into these lifeless caves and put up this primitive magilight? She desperately hoped for the latter, but couldn’t trust her own judgement right now. She looked down the tunnel, which was now smoothly rounded to form an egg-like shape, and saw more of the magical ‘torches’ lining the walls. She had a clear view all the way to the next bend in the tunnel. Slowly, legs stiff and mind hazy, she continued. What might she find? Perhaps nothing. Perhaps it really was all in her head. Or maybe she’d discover an abandoned mineshaft from somepony trying to reach the gem vein. And yet her strained brain grasped hold of the concept that there might actually be ponies down here who could help her. The phantom hope was enough to drive down the fatigue and keep her moving forward. The mini-Rarity in the back of her mind was hopping up and down and waving her arms. What if the place is run by griffon slavers? Rarity didn’t have the energy to scowl. Nonsense, they came from the Eerie Cliffs north of here. But this place could be a staging area for incursions into the Scorched Plains! They’re bird-brains. They prefer high altitudes, not dank caves. They’ve been hiding in caves ever since the fall of the Grypha Empire! All the more reason to not want to live in one. We’re going to get captured again! I’m armed. You’re dead on your hooves! Would you rather I just sit in the darkness and do nothing? Dog. What? What nerve! Just because we disagree, that’s no reason to— No, dog! Huh? She blinked, taking in her surroundings once more. Her hand snapped over her mouth to muffle the gasp. A pair of diamond dogs in iron armor and wielding spears were conversing at the end of the path near a four-way split. She grinned, started to raise her hand… then froze. A chill ran down her spine in defiance of the warmth of the caves, and she swiftly ducked back behind the bend in the tunnel. What did she know about diamond dogs? They ran Howler’s Bank. The ones she’d met had all seemed friendly. But those dogs lived in towns and cities, running fine institutions that guaranteed the steady flow of finances that kept communities from descending into chaos – or at least that was how Mr. Gold once described it to her. But these dogs were living in caves beneath the most inhospitable mountain range in Equestria. Could she be certain that they were half as civilized as the bankers were? And why had they been dressed in armor and armed? If they proved unfriendly… She waved her hand in her face, idly wondering when the tunnels had gotten so warm, and peeked beyond the corner. The two dogs had moved on, leaving the path clear. What would she do now? Approach them and hope they didn’t decide to put a spear in her gut? She’d been shot at by ponies, nearly enslaved by griffons, and almost trampled by buffalo, to say nothing of Little Strongheart’s questionable decision. What were the odds she’d have better luck dealing with diamond dogs? Her eyes drifted upwards, falling upon the gem vein. She’d not given it much attention for some time, largely just using it as a directional guide. Now that she really looked, however, she realized that her expectations were off. She was close enough that individual gemstones could be distinguished, and her eyes went wide at the find. It was a veritable mountain of colors, large enough to bury all of Spurhoof! There was enough wealth in that pile to shame the entire agricultural elite of Manehattan and Mooisville combined. Why would a community of diamond dogs possessing of such unimaginable wealth be using primitive magi-torches, crude iron armor and the most basic of melee weaponry? Rarity’s brain was in no condition to do battle with this logical disparity, and instead jumped to the conclusion that they had to be greedy beyond rationality. And if that was the case, they likely wouldn’t take kindly to the sight of a pony wandering into their territory. Her heart fluttered in her chest as she faced the terrible reality of her situation. She ran her fingers along Silver Lining’s grip, licking her lips and praying she’d get out of this place without having to take any shots. You could just go back. No. No, that was not an option. She’d starve in those tunnels for certain. Her best bet was to sneak through this Diamond Dog community and hope she could find a way to the surface. They wouldn’t make a home in a place like this if there wasn’t an exit close by. Surely. It was just a matter of not being seen. Her eyes crossed, taking in the gentle glow of her horn. Her gaze drifted to the massive pile of gems that filled her vision. Oh, but what she wouldn’t give to spend two minutes alone with that glorious collection… With a pained sigh, she canceled her gem-finding spell, and the massive pile disappeared from her vision. The loss was almost enough to bring a tear to her eye. Yet she simply couldn’t take the risk. No doubt a treasury like that would be meticulously guarded, and Rarity was no thief regardless of how fabulous the prize. She didn’t proceed immediately. Instead, she gave herself a moment to eat, drink, and rest her tired legs. She was still exhausted, but she didn’t dare try to sleep now. She could go back to the dark tunnels and try it, but it would be just her luck if she’d finally fall unconscious only for one of the dogs to go exploring and stumble upon her defenseless self. No, she’d get out of here and well away from them, then she’d succumb to her body’s needs. She gave herself only a few minutes. If she lingered for too long, sleep might sneak up on her. She made the strap of her pack into a loop, set her arm through said loop, then flung the strap across her other shoulder. The result was uncomfortable, but it allowed both of her hands to be free and kept the pouch from slinging about as she moved. She rubbed Silver Lining’s grip once more, feeling that now-familiar imperfection in the wood on her thumb. The voice in the back of her mind suggested she keep the gun in her hand, but she rejected the idea. With any luck, she’d not have to use it at all. Keeping to the shadows as much as possible, Rarity began her incursion. The way proved easy enough at first thanks to a lack of sentries in her path. Every now and then, however, she’d stumble upon a group of Diamond Dogs wandering the tunnels. She’d managed to keep hidden with unexpected ease. It seemed that they weren’t expecting intruders to come in via the tunnels, so they always had their eyes turned away from her when she slipped by. Even so, she couldn’t get through every time. Gradually, the tunnels started to appear less natural and more like carved hallways, albeit still with that curved design. The designer in her found the curved corners rather pleasant, though the sheer lack of décor did little to engage her enthusiasm. Every time she began to enter these settings she’d find the ‘hallway’ guarded by two dogs. Unlike the others who had been wandering, these always seemed present specifically for the purpose of guarding that particular passage. With no way past them, Rarity was forced to turn around and brave the more natural tunnels. The more roadblocks she encountered, the more frustrated she became. Did these creatures never have shift changes? All she wanted was to lie down and sleep, but after wandering through the dimly lit halls for so long she’d lost track of how to get back to the dark caves. Her eyelids felt as though they were made of stone and she didn’t walk so much as stumbled. She had to find a safe place to rest, and soon. Frustration shifted to desperation, and Rarity began investigating places she might hide. Many of the tunnels in this area had side paths – doorways? – leading into what may have been considered rooms. Most were empty, but several seemed to be used as storage space. One was filled with iron ingots, another with rolled up rugs, and yet another had tools that appeared to be for mining. That last one befuddled her, for even she knew that Diamond Dogs were built for digging. Unless perhaps the stone here was too tough even for their sharp claws? Yet as much as hiding behind all the junk she found might have been a good idea for her rest, the rooms were always packed too tightly for her to make any headway, forcing her to go in search of some other place. She had to wonder just what the dogs needed so much of the stuff for. Was there some practical use to it she was too tired to fathom? Rarity bumbled her way into another doorway, rubbing her eyes and willing herself to continue. Then, she looked up and felt her heart sink. “Oh, that’s just not fair.” Mattresses. A room filled to the brim with nothing but mattresses. Chamberlain size. Prince size. Princess size. Even a few Royals. She sucked down a sharp breath and reached out to touch the nearest stack of three, pushing down on the tantalizingly soft material. It was almost enough to bring tears to her eyes. If she could just climb over to some back corner… She almost did it. She should have done it. None of the dogs would have noticed, for sure. But, just as she was preparing to make the soft, delightful, fabulous climb, her ears perked to the strange sound of the Diamond Dog’s native tongue, a confusing mashup of barks, whines, yelps and grunts. The tiny voice in the back of her head screamed at her to jump, but her body was too sluggish for such a rapid reaction. The talking stopped. Rarity cringed, slowly stood to her full height, and turned to her left. A pair of Diamond Dogs, unarmored and hauling a large mattress between them, gaped at her like a pair of fish. She returned this look in a thoughtless stupor, gradually coming to terms with the fact that they were not the hallucinations of a weary mind. Unfortunately, they reacted first, dropping the mattress and emitting lengthy howls that she could only assume was some sort of alert. Cursing, Rarity turned tail and fled down the hall, not even checking to see if she was being followed. She struggled through the fatigue to try and think of a plan, but the only answers that came to mind were “run”, “run quickly”, and the occasional “hide”. She mostly focused on the second one. It wasn’t all a mindless sprint, however. She made sure to make a turn every time one was presented to her, hoping that not going in a straight line would make her harder to locate. If she could get back into the darkness, that would be okay, but she really hoped she could luck out and run straight to an exit. “Stop, pony thief!” Rarity’s legs wobbled and nearly sent her careening to the floor, but she managed to adjust and turn around as a trio of armed dogs bounded from the end of a hallway. Part of her wanted to deny the accusation, but she was too busy praying to Celestia and Luna for such things. Barks and yelps filled the tunnels, making it abundantly clear that she’d soon be in a lot of trouble. Her legs burned from the renewed exertion and her breath came in stinging gasps. The sight of sharp spears and swords, and even a pistol or two, reminded her that it was probably far too late for the diplomatic route. At least they weren’t shooting yet, but that was little comfort as a sword-wielding dog appeared from around a corner. They almost collided, but Rarity managed to bumble her way to the side. She bounced against the wall painfully as she did. Only his surprise at her sudden appearance kept her from being caught in his clutches. “Stop, pony!” She ignored him and kept running. “Why are so many creatures trying to kill me lately?” She charged from passage to passage, tripping over her own hooves but somehow managing to evade Diamond Dogs that appeared to block her at half her turns. Her options were rapidly dwindling, and the tiny Rarity in the back of her head began to despair. No, I’ll find a way. I’ll get out of this. I just need to find an open path! She stumbled to a stop next to a large, bronze door. Her chest heaved, her body ached from the exacerbation of pains she’d only just started recovering from, and sweat dripped down her body. But, as she stared ahead, she realized that she’d reached the end of the line. A team of five dogs stood in her path. A corridor to her left was blocked by a half-dozen more, and when she turned around she discovered another group. They were armed to the teeth and looked more than a little frustrated. One of the dogs stepped forward, a sword raised high over his head. “Calm down, pony. No need to run. Pony stay.” Her eyes ran the length of his sharp weapon. She swallowed, fingers running along Silver Lining’s grip. It would not save her against so many, even with her strangely good aim. If she didn’t come up with something… Her eyes darted to the bronze door. It was large enough for three diamond dogs to pass through. It was also the only actual door she’d seen in the entire cave system. Perhaps it was protecting something? The dog’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t even think it, pony.” Good enough for her! She jerked into motion, slamming her shoulder against the door even as she twisted the ornate silver handle. Curses and shouts filled the chamber as, thankfully, the door proved unlocked. Almost falling through, Rarity managed to use the handle to keep from sprawling forward, then turned and slammed the door closed. There was a latch on the side and, hoping it was some sort of locking mechanism, she jerked it down. A large metal beam dropped over the door with a bang just as the dogs tried to push their way in. Fighting to catch her breath, Rarity backpedaled from the door and pulled out Silver Lining. Her hands shook as she checked the cylinder; four bullets loaded. She still had her pouch. Maybe if she could reload fast enough she could keep them pinned, and then… A hot breeze blew her hair forward around her face. It had the distinct smell of mint. Rarity froze, her breath coming to a stop as another blast of wind struck her from behind. Slowly, she turned around. She was in a massive cavern, large enough to fit five Spurhoofs within it. Magilights illuminated every corner, which made the veritable mountain of gems glitter and sparkle from every angle. But what really had her attention was the massive, violet-scaled dragon laying atop a nearby hill of precious stones. A dragon whose teeth were mere feet away from her. A pair of green eyes, each as large as she was, peered at her beneath similarly green spikes. Sputtering, frail sounds left Rarity’s trembling lips. Her body moved on its own, shaking hands raising Silver Lining so that it pointed haphazardly at the beast’s snout. But she couldn’t pull the trigger. She couldn’t fathom trying. All she saw was teeth and scales and eyes and… and… Silver Lining hit the ground, followed shortly by Rarity falling into a sitting position. She sagged forward, tears blurring her vision. “J-just get it over with.” Closing her eyes, she braced herself for death. Time passed. No pain came. Had it been so quick she’d merely not felt it? Then, that minty breath rushed over her once more, punctuated by a deep, rumbling hum. “I wasn’t expecting such a lovely visitor today.” She raised her head. Through fuzzy vision, she saw that the beast was… smiling. Exhaustion, hunger, pain, fear, frustration, all of it had been capped off by the sheer absurdity that this beast was capable of speech. Rarity’s brain, it seemed, had had enough; the world went dark, and she fell to the floor on her side. The last thing she heard before slipping into unconsciousness was that same deep voice muttering a disappointed, “That could have gone better.” Even without knowing what time it was, Rarity concluded it was far too early to be getting out of bed. She snuggled into her pillow and pulled the silken sheets so that they cooled her cheeks. What a decadent feeling! She’d be delighted to have a chance to indulge in this every morning. But it couldn’t last, could it? She’d have to check inventory, get the shop ready to open, perhaps work on an order or two. Did she have any orders? Nothing came to mind, but surely there was something… Oh! Cleric Walker’s new robes. Such a smashing design idea she’d had. She hoped she had enough sapphires. If not, she could send Coco to the store to put in an order with the next caravan. Why was it so hot in her room? She pushed the sheets away, delighting in how the silk felt between her fingers. Wait… silk? She didn’t own silk bedsheets. Her eyes drifted open only to settle upon a veritable wall of shining gems. Her sleepy brain tried to wrap her head around this. If it was some kind of prank, it would be an outrageously expensive— Her last waking moments came back to her in a rush, and Rarity jerked into a sitting position with a gasp. Massive cavern, mountain of gemstones, gargantuan wall of scales. She was still in the caves! How long had she been out? Mere seconds? She reached for Silver Lining… and touched only softness. Her moment of rising panic derailed when she looked down and found herself dressed snugly in a white, fluffy bathrobe and sitting on a Royal-sized mattress covered in silk sheets. “W-what?” There came a deep thrumming from the wall of purple scales, which brought gems down in a glittery landslide as it shifted in her direction. Rarity swallowed her breath when a long, slender neck curved towards her. Once again, she gazed upon a pair of brilliant green eyes. The voice that rose from between the dragon’s sharp fangs wasn’t as deep as her memory had suggested, and had an eager tonality. “You are awake! Good.” Rarity stared up at the beast, taking in its green spikes and purple scales. The creature was at least five times the size of her shop! Sucking down slow breaths, she glanced around, but the diamond dogs she’d expected to see guarding her where nowhere to be found. And why not? She didn’t want to be here either. “Are you alright?” The dragon sat up, the simple motion sending gems cascading off the vast piles. “No lasting pains? I hope the fall didn’t cause anything bad.” His massive claw rose and he held up two talons. “How many fingers do you see?” Her tongue flopped in her mouth for a few seconds, but she at last managed, “T-t-two. Please don’t eat me.” He – at least, she assumed it was a he – managed to smile without showing those deadly fangs. “If I were going to eat you, why would I wait for you to wake up?” Her pounding heart began to slow enough for her to gather her thoughts, which started with acknowledging his point. She glanced down at herself, taking in her robe and the mattress. Blushing at the amount of cleavage being shown, she wrapped the robe a little more tightly around her body. “Um… th-thank you for not eating me.” She looked up at him, ears folding back. “What’s going on?” The dragon reached a claw up to scratch at his cheek, averting his gaze. Against all the logic in her skull, he actually appeared bashful. “I apologize. I think my attempt at a casual greeting before was too… direct. You fainted, so I had Jewelbone clean you up and make you comfortable.” Clean her up? Rarity took a moment to examine herself once more and realized that, indeed, all the grit and grime of the last few months had been washed away. A swift examination revealed her mane had returned to its old luster and bounce. The feeling of it in her fingers brought tears to her eyes. “Oh, Sisters, it’s been so long…” She caught the dragon’s smile and flinched back once more. “W-why would you do this for me?” Straightening up, the dragon crossed his arms and tucked his chin between a thumb and finger. He studied her with a gaze more curious than anything. “The Diamond Dogs believe you were trying to rob from my hoard. Were you?” Rarity felt her old fire come back at that query. “I am not a thief! I was just trying to get out of those damnable tunnels under the mountains and stumbled upon this… whatever this place is!” “And why, exactly, were you in the tunnels?” Heat rushed to her cheeks and she averted her gaze. “Because I got tricked into going in by some cruel buffalo child who was supposed to be guiding me out of the Scorched Plains.” If she ever saw Little Strongheart again… But, as his shifting body reminded her, Rarity had much bigger things to deal with right now. She brushed her mane back from her face and clutched her robes close, feeling unpleasantly exposed. Keeping her gaze on her knees, she asked, “What do you intend to do with me?” “Feed you.” Had she heard that correctly? She looked up at him, and he gestured with a palm to her right. She turned and gasped at the sight of a trio of silver plates. Pasta, bread and butter, and soup. Beside the meal was a bottle filled with something red and a half-full wine glass. Her body reacted before her mind could, grabbing the plate of noodles in her magic. She’d already taken three bites before she realized what she was doing, but by then it was too late to consider the potential consequences. The dragon spoke hesitantly. “I, uh, thought you might be hungry when you woke up. It’s probably not hot anymore.” “You have no idea and I don’t care.” Rarity ripped a bite out of the loaf of bread, foregoing butter in favor of filling her empty belly. That down, she grabbed the wine glass and started to take a drink, only to sputter and pull it back once the first sip had gone down her throat. “O-oh my, this really is wine! And… a good wine. Fruity. Strawberry?” “From the Gemdew Fields of Seaddle.” Another gasp. Rarity took the bottle in both hands at gaped at the label, confirming the dragon’s statement. She looked up at him in a mild stupor. “But that winemaker closed up shop more than fifty years ago.” He nodded. “When the owner retired, yes.” “I can’t drink this!” She carefully set the bottle back down. “It’s far too precious.” The dragon shrugged. “It was just sitting in storage all this time. Wine is created for drinking, not collecting dust.” He waved his claw in an encouraging manner. “Please, have as much as you want, Miss…?” “Oh! Do forgive me.” Rarity turned to face him properly and bowed her head low. “Miss Rarity Belle, and I am oh-so very grateful for your warm welcome. B-but…” She glanced at the food, then at her robes again. “I’m a little confused as to what’s going on.” Despite herself, she grabbed the plate of pasta once more. She ate a lot more slowly this time, which allowed her to savor the basil, garlic and cherry tomatoes. She couldn’t imagine the cost of such an extravagant meal, but her taste buds convinced her not to question the matter. “Ah, Rarity Belle. As pleasant a name as I’ve ever known.” The dragon swept a claw over his heart and gave a bow that brought his chin down to her level, making her flinch. “I am Spike. Just Spike. But you may have overheard the Diamond Dogs referring to me as ‘Boss’.” Boss? She’d heard that before. Where? She almost dropped her plate as comprehension dawned. “The owner of Howler’s Bank is a dragon?” He straightened up and set a lone finger to his lips with a wink and a smirk. “Don’t tell anyone.” “O-oh, I won’t.” She shook her head frantically. “I’m just shocked, is all. How did this happen?” Spike’s head drifted away such that he was staring at the wall, his expression one of melancholy. “Eh, it’s a long and tiring story.” An instant later, he was grinning and tilting his head her way. “Would you like to hear it?” Rarity pondered the question for a moment, taking in her position and the offerings before her. He’d yet to tell her what he really intended to do with her. Perhaps if she kept him talking she’d uncover the truth, or at least buy herself time to figure out an escape plan. Besides, the food and drink were really good. There was also his behavior so far which, contrary to everything she’d ever heard in her life about dragons, had been cordial and polite. Ignoring all that, she doubted she had anything better to do with her time. “By all means. I’d love to hear your story.” He hummed and rubbed his chin. “Y’know, maybe not the ‘whole’ story. I’ll give you the cliffnotes version.” As he continued, he dug around his collection of gems with his claws. “Basically, I’ve been living in these caves for about nine hundred years. I came here because, regrettably, I am rather small for a dragon, and not known for my fighting prowess. I found I just couldn’t maintain and defend a hoard on my own, especially not in the Burning Lands. So I came here, where I could at least be sure none of my bigger brethren might come after me.” Rarity choked on her bread at the thought that this behemoth of a creature was considered small by dragon standards. “I… see.” He was focused almost entirely on his gems now, talons digging through them in slow, gentle strokes as he peered in apparent search of something. “The Diamond Dogs were driven into the mountains two centuries later, in the midst of the Seventy-Three Wars. They simply had nowhere else to go. I welcomed their arrival. Unlike most of my kin, I tend to get rather lonely and was happy to make some new friends.” He rolled his eyes and muttered, “I’m something of a freak in the eyes of other dragons. Ah-ha!” He pulled out a relatively small object between two long talons, moving with great care as he deposited it before Rarity. It was a wood-bound book, so large it would have taken her both hands to lift. Before she could get a good look at it, he continued. “The Diamond Dogs are a little greedy, and love gems. Dragons are extremely greedy, and we eat gems. I saw the opportunity for a match made in Elysium.” He sat back once more, head raised in a proud pose. “So we came to a mutually beneficial arrangement. I taught the Diamond Dogs all about financing, something I had picked up on my own as a dragon whelp with a taste for exploration. They went out and established banks based upon my knowledge and teachings. I acted as the chief executive of the bank, keeping Howler’s Bank successful. “In return, I take in 30% of the bank’s profits.” He winked at her. “Not bad for an egghead, wouldn’t you say?” Sipping down some soup – potato with chives and melted cheese – Rarity considered the dates he’d mentioned. She choked on the lukewarm liquid as things clicked. “You mean you’ve been collecting 30% of the profits from Howler’s Bank for seven hundred years? With an income like that, you’d… you’d be…” She gaped at the massive collection of gems, the reality of it all sinking in and rendering her mind numb. “W-wow.” Spike nodded with a smarmy grin. He caught up a claw full of gems and popped a few into his mouth. “And to think, the dragons in the Burning Lands are still fighting one another and going on treasure raids.” Slowly, Rarity’s brain kicked back into gear. She took another sip of soup, if only to buy herself some time to think. “So… does that mean you’re responsible for the entirety of Equestria’s current economic system?” “Indeed.” He rubbed his chest self-appreciatively. “In fact, I invented the Gem-to-Bit Conversion System. It’s worked out pretty well so far. Might I ask which bank you worked with on the outside?” “Umm… the Spurhoof Branch?” “Spurhoof?” Spike tilted his head back, eyes narrowing. He retained this pose for almost a minute, his eyes shifting slowly across nothing Rarity could see. “Ah. That would be the bank of Mr. Golden Fang, or ‘Mr. Gold,’ as he prefers to be called. He took out some sort of ‘aid donation’ last season against his bank’s net worth.” Rarity began to wonder if the muscles in her jaws were failing. “You remembered that just from the name?” “I’ve always been more organized than your average creature, dragon or no.” He shrugged before lowering himself, resting on the gem piles and crossing his muscular arms. “So tell me, Lady Rarity. What brings a young, pretty unicorn such as you all the way to the Dragon’s Teeth – and from the Scorched Plains, no less. Are you a trader?” Her stomach twisted at the query. Would she have to explain everything to him? Focusing on her soup, she sighed and shook her head. “I was a clothier. Now I… I suppose I am a drifter. I might still be, assuming I’ll be allowed to leave here.” “That depends upon why such a well-spoken, attractive young drifter is sneaking around my home as if she does not wish to be discovered.” Rarity groaned and set her soup down, her appetite having vanished. “I’m going to have to explain everything, aren’t I?” Spike’s smile was the epitome of patience. “Take your time. Neither of us are going anywhere for a while.” It had taken some time to tell her tale. By the end of it Rarity felt a resurgence of her prior bitterness, her thoughts focused primarily on Little Strongheart. She’d conjured up so many curses for that wretched buffalo, and suspected she could conjure up a few hundred more with some time and a few scrolls. Spike lay on his belly, chin resting on his steepled claws as he stared over Rarity at nothing in particular. “That is quite the story, Lady Rarity.” “I suppose it is,” she groused. “I can only imagine what will happen next.” She glanced up at him, bracing for the bad news. “What does happen next?” He gave a long hum, the wind from it blowing her mane back. She might have complained if his breath didn’t have that curiously pleasant minty aroma to it. “I’ve taken your story in, and I think I believe you. So really, what happens next is up to you.” Her ears perked. “It is?” Focusing on her once more, he gave a soft smile. It was astonishing to think that something so scaly and undoubtedly hard could manage to look soft, but Spike had defied a lot of Rarity’s predispositions towards dragons so far. “I think you should stay here for a few days to recover from your ordeal. After that? You may leave. Or… stay. If you’d like.” “Stay?” Rarity took a look at her surroundings, her hands rubbing the soft robe she still wore. “Here?” “Stay. Here.” He leaned forward, which in her view was like having a mountain threatening to roll over her. Yet in his eyes she saw something entirely unexpected: hope. “I haven’t had such a pleasant conversation partner in decades. You’d be well attended. Food, clothing, whatever you need or desire. And I? I’d have someone to talk to.” She raised an eyebrow. “What about the Diamond Dogs?” He sighed and waved a dismissive claw. “They are fine, I guess. But let’s face it, all Diamond Dogs care about is gems and how to get more of them. If I want to talk about anything else – and I mean anything else – they’re not really up to par. There is more to life than economics, but I can’t exactly stroll into the nearest town and make friends. The general reaction usually involves a lot of shrieking and gunfire.” Pursing her lips, Rarity sat back with hands to the mattress. “And what, exactly, would you like to talk about other than gems?” His eyes lit up, an eager smile on his lips. “I don’t suppose you listen to music?” The two of them talked for hours on end. Rarity soon found herself thoroughly enjoying Spike’s company. For lack of any alternative terminology, she came to look upon him as a ‘gentledrake.’ Cultured, soft-spoken, highly knowledgeable and intelligent, Rarity realized she’d not been so engaged with another creature in years. His laid back attitude gave her the room she needed to be comfortable in his presence. She dined on her second meal since arriving – kindly delivered by a very polite female Diamond Dog with the unfortunate name of Jewelbone, who also brought Silver Lining and Rarity’s freshly laundered clothes. Her gaze was focused on a series of statues Spike had arranged before her. Although each one was nearly twice Rarity’s size, to Spike they were trinkets he could carry between two talons. He did precisely that, moving a massive minotaur statue across a blocky pattern of rugs he’d set on the floor. “Knight to G3.” “Clever.” Rarity studied the massive chessboard from over her wine glass, going over potential moves. She already had a plan in place, but it never hurt to think of alternatives just in case. After a while she set her glass down and declared a prim “Councilor takes pawn at E7.” Spike’s sigh filled the air with that familiar minty breath. “I should have suggested checkers. I’m better at that game.” He dutifully moved her statue of a night priestess into place, removing his small pony soldier as he did. Rarity eyed his sulking expression. “I don’t understand how the father of the modern Equestrian financial system could have trouble with a game of chess.” With a shrug, he moved his Celestia statue, switching its positions with an obelisk. “It’s a different kind of thinking, I suppose. Castling Celestia to C8.” She smirked. “Prince to A6. Check.” “Bah. Celestia to B8. Uncheck.” Satisfied with the way things were going in the game, Rarity paid less attention to it and more to the things she’d been thinking about ever since she’d awoken in this place. She had the book, which apparently detailed the history of the Bank, but had far more important things on the mind at the moment. Glancing up at Spike’s scowling expression – his ‘game face,’ apparently – she tentatively asked, “Do you really want me to stay?” The corner of his lip twitched up, proving the lie behind his scowl. “Not if you’re gonna tear me apart at chess. Your move.” “I’m aware.” She sighed and rested on her side, eating a couple of grapes from a bowl of assorted fruits. “I have to admit, you know how to tempt a girl. Pawn to H8. Prince me.” He obediently switched her thestral soldier for a warlock. How long had it taken him to gather all the perfect statues for a game like this? As he turned the warlock to face the proper direction, he said, “I admit, I’m pretty eager. It’s been nice, having someone to talk to. It helps that she’s a looker.” “You’re just trying to flatter me, you silver-tongued beast, you.” She smirked up at him, then gave a long yawn. She was hardly paying any attention at all to the game now. She knew he’d move his knight to take her new prince, and it would be checkmate in the next move. “But I don’t know. I’m not a dragon, and I doubt I’d enjoy spending the rest of my life in a cave, even with all the riches of Howler’s Bank to make me comfortable.” He lifted his head to frown at her. “And the Bad Apple Gang?” She hesitated at that. Truly, what place in all of Equestria was safer than a dragon’s hoard? “I… I’m not sure. It’s a truly generous offer, but I need time to think about it.” Another of his thoughtful hums. “I do not intend to press you, but I must insist you stay for a few days more, if only to recover physically and mentally from your recent ordeal. No guest of mine will leave unhealthy and unprepared.” Suspicion returned to Rarity at his words. He might be a perfectly polite drake, but she was still unsure if she could trust him. What would happen if ‘a few days more’ turned into ‘a few weeks more’ and beyond? It was entirely possible he looked upon her as nothing more than an addition to his hoard. The very idea raised her hackles; Rarity Belle belonged to nobody, not even a dragon. Still, she couldn’t very well attempt to escape right now, could she? “I suppose a few days wouldn’t hurt.” His smile lit up the room more brightly than all the magilights combined. “Wonderful! Rook to D1. Checkmate.” “What?” The Diamond Dogs had their own community in the caves, but Rarity wasn’t roomed there. Given her rough arrival, it was decided that she should steer clear of that area for now lest she bump into somepup (as they liked to say) offended by her prior antics. And so she found herself in one of the unused storage rooms, which could hardly be called glamorous, but it was close to Spike’s lair. Yes, ‘lair’. He insisted. Was the room small or large by Diamond Dog standards? She couldn’t say. Spike’s assistant Jewelbone had already left, so she couldn’t ask. She would assume it to be average. It was some ten by ten feet in size, the edges curved and rough. But they’d moved a royal-sized bed with three mattresses, silk sheets, and a cotton quilt into the space. At her request, a workstation had been delivered so that she could make some adjustments to her current attire. Aside from a magilight lamp set in the corner, the place was bare. Rarity could already see ways she’d like to improve the space. Better lighting, a wardrobe in that corner, perhaps some decorative displays. And mannequins, lots of mannequins, with a rack for holding the threads and fabrics and a cabinet for all her sewing supplies and… Closing her eyes, she took a long, deep breath. When they opened again, the room was just a room, all her little ideas cleansed from her mind. What was the point of thinking about improvements? She wasn’t going to be staying here that long. At least, she didn’t intend to. Her mind played over the possibilities as she settled on the edge of the bed, her rump sinking deep into the feather-soft mattress. She imagined herself spending her days at that workstation, making new dresses for herself and parading around before Spike. The image left an empty pit in her stomach. Especially when she imagined Spike’s appreciative gaze. Was that what he wanted? Perhaps it was arrogant of her to think that way. What reason would he have to see her as a prize? Yet she couldn’t stop thinking of the old breezie tales about dragons capturing fair maidens. Who knew, there might be something to those stories. Rarity was confident enough in her looks to think she might qualify as a maiden, though she cringed at the thought of being the stereotypical ‘maiden in distress’. She could handle herself. Spike had been nothing but a gentledrake. He was also fabulously wealthy, far beyond her wildest dreams. If he really wanted some mare to pose for him, surely he could just pay one to live here. There were certainly ponies who would agree, and eagerly. But then, Rarity wasn’t one of those ponies. Did that make her a more enticing catch? “You’re being ridiculous, Rarity,” she muttered to herself, arms crossed about her stomach. She felt as though she might become ill. “You have no reason to think Spike looks at you that way.” Except for the stallion who attempted to rape her, the griffons who tried to enslave her, the buffalo who might have been trying to kill her, and the Diamond Dogs who thought she was a thief on sight. Okay, that last one was unfair, she admitted to herself. I did waltz through their private sanctum through a back door unannounced. Still, how was she to believe that this was any different? Her eyes turned to the thick tome at her side. Spike had let her keep the book for now, in case she wanted to learn more about the Bank. Maybe not about the that, but what about him? Using her magic to pull the lamp closer to the bed, she settled against the headboard and set the book in her lap. If she was going to find proof for her fears, this was her best bet.