//------------------------------// // Chapter 22: Undeterred // Story: To Serve In Hell // by CoffeeMinion //------------------------------// Sassy sighed as she paced the length of the mansion’s entryway for what felt like the thousandth time. Fashion Plate stood near the great central staircase, tip-hoofing anxiously and casting occasional glances upward. Silver Shill had vanished at some point during their wait, though Sassy hadn’t noticed his departure. “This is ridiculous,” Sassy barked at last. “Plate, you told me he’d be down as soon as he finished some kind of meeting? That was at least an hour ago!” Plate held up his forehooves defensively. “I… I know, Sassy! And every time I go back and check, he keeps saying he’ll be down in a minute!” “Well, go check again!” For a moment Plate said nothing, but Sassy spotted tension in his jaw, as if he was suppressing a frown. “What is it, Plate?” “N… nothing. I’m sure he’s just got a lot of responsibilities, like you and me both do.” Sassy scoffed and stalked up close to him. “You expect me to believe that Blueblood of all ponies is busying himself with responsibilities? Plate, I hate to say this… truly I do… but it seems like all I’m hearing from you are excuses, and they just keep getting thinner.” “No, but—” “There’s not much point in waiting around to hear more of the same. Either the Governor has chosen to deliberately snub me, or he’s forgotten whose representative he’s dealing with… or maybe you have.” She then took off heading for the staircase. “Either way, it’s time to work myself into his precious schedule!” Fashion Plate brimmed with sweat as he pumped his legs to keep up with her. “Sassy, look… we’re friends, right?” Sassy stopped and stared at him. “I hope so, Plate; but you said you could help me out, and then you didn’t. What happened?” “He’s just… he usually—” “Plate…” She shook her head. “Forgive me; I’m close to saying something I might regret. I understand if you can’t exert your own influence on him without risking your position. I, however, have no such concern.” “Sassy, look, it’s not my place to question you—” “It’s really not,” Sassy said, stopping and glaring at him. “At least not when it comes to this investigation.” Fashion Plate tightened his lips, but bowed his head and turned away. Sassy watched him go, before turning and setting off for the long upstairs hall that housed the Governor’s private apartments. The guards beside the outer doors eyed her warily as she approached, though they made no moves to stop her after she bared her teeth at them. She raised her hoof to knock, but paused, noticing that she could hear a bit of Blueblood’s voice through the door. Curiosity piqued, she leaned closer and perked up her ears, heedless of the guards standing right next to her. “...oh, no no no, that’s fine by me… I’m as tired of waiting as you are...” A frown worked its way across Sassy’s lips. She wondered who he might be talking to. “Do you need something, ma’am?” asked one of the guards. “Yes… for you to hold your tongue.” “…Ugh, don’t get me started. The poor dear doesn’t seem to know anything! …Yes, I suppose we’ll have to brace for impact when she hears about the fire.” Sassy’s eyes widened. The implication was plain enough that Blueblood was talking not only about herself, but also Bon Bon. “Ma’am—” This time she hissed at the impertinent guard, causing him to blanch and step backwards. “…You don’t suppose we could have… ah… fine. I guess my guy can keep up the act for a while longer. I think he wants more compensation for putting up with her, though… No, don’t worry, he’s got some fun bits of drama that should keep her busy for a while—” Sassy had heard enough. With a grimace, she planted her hooves on the door, lit her horn, and unleashed a burst of magic that blew it open on its hinges. The guards next to her ducked back in surprise, hastily brandishing their spears. Inside the opulent anteroom full of ivory and furs, Governor Blueblood startled, turning away from a mirror on the side of a chest of drawers. His hornglow faded, and Sassy caught a fleeting glimpse of a wide-eyed, lilac-colored face in the mirror before the image faded as well. Blueblood looked her up and down with a smile. “You know, my dear, I’ve had fantasies that start this way.” “You will tell me who you were talking to. Immediately.” He smacked his lips. “Yeah… no.” Both guards laid hooves on her withers. Sassy snarled, lit her horn, and discharged a powerful telekinetic blast that sent them flying into walls opposite each other. The blast pushed her magic to its limits, though, and it left her panting from the pain of a raging hornache. “I am… the Overseer… of Mistress Nightmare Moon, and you will—” “Be paying for that, yes?” Blueblood interrupted. “That trim is Saddle Arabian, and Fashion Plate is going to plotz when he sees what you just did to it.” Sassy scowled at him. “Governor, I think the Mistress would be very interested in what you know about this evening’s fire in the Lower City, as well as the truth about what Lord Rich was doing here earlier!” “Would she? Or do you think she’d tell you that you were wasting her time? I mean, if you were eavesdropping just now—which, by the way,” he said, addressing the moaning guards on the floor, “thank you for a job well done—then most of what you heard was nothing more than a mare and a stallion planning an unforgettable weekend.” “With your ‘lady-in-waiting?’” Sassy focused on the mirror, but nothing about its metal frame or glass surface looked out of the ordinary. “What is that, anyway?” Blueblood waved a hoof dismissively. “Oh, you know, just your garden-variety enchanted two-way communication mirror. All the cool kids have one.” Sassy continued to regard it from a distance, shaking her head. “I’ve not heard of such things outside of fairy stories.” “Well, we really only use it when we’re in ‘the mood’ and just can’t wait, if you take my meaning. Uses a metric buckload of power to keep both sides running in sync. I guess that’s what we get for being early adopters! Anyway, Ms. Saddles, if you’d be so good as to scoot yourself out of here, I’d like to finish what we were starting before you so rudely interrupted.” “Governor, the way you’re avoiding my questions is not the behavior of an innocent pony.” Blueblood guffawed. “Innocent? Sassy, who can say they’re truly innocent? You? No. I was happy to give you protection, a place to stay, and a set of strong hooves and other parts to help you through the night if you want them. But I’ll be honest… it's starting to seem like all you want to do is mope around my home and chase dead-ends. How boring!” Sassy planted her hooves and tilted her chin up imperiously. “Do you know who you’re—” “Yep, sure do.” Blueblood turned and beckoned with a hoof. “Guys?” A set of six fresh guards filed into the room through side doors and formed a wall between Sassy and Blueblood. Their speartips were raised as they advanced on her, and the intense look in their eyes made her step backwards and out of the room. All six followed her, then took up positions by the door. Beyond them, she saw Blueblood’s horn light up again, and the door slammed shut. “I’m afraid you’ll have to leave the Governor’s quarters now, ma’am,” one said. “Do you know who I am?!” The guards exchanged nervous looks between each other and their fallen comrades, but didn’t budge. “Sorry, ma’am. We mean no disrespect. Just acting under orders, you understand.” Sassy felt a powerful and growing wish to vent her anger at them. Six was more than she could handle on her own, though, so she spun on her hooves and stomped away down the corridor. “Perhaps I should see how the Governor responds to some real guards,” Sassy muttered, trying to recall the nearest station where she might find a coterie of armored thestrals. Still, there was a chance that Blueblood had ejected her out of mere obstinacy, rather than genuine treason. Bringing the Mistress’ army down on him without adequate cause would certainly draw her anger. Yet Sassy felt something needed to be done. With Bon Bon lost in a fire, and the revelation of a rift between herself and Fashion Plate, she feared that all the power, position, and friendships she’d worked hard to establish might be sliding into chaos. It would’ve helped to at least have Silver Shill there to bounce ideas off, had he not also vanished. “But I am a survivor,” she said under her breath. And it occurred to her that there was still one lead that she could follow.