//------------------------------// // Chapter 4: A Glug of Laudanum // Story: Flash Sentry and the King's Ghost // by Carabas //------------------------------// Alas, I regained consciousness. “More laudanum please,” I wheezed. Wheezing hurt. Most things did. Little tweety birds tweeted somewhere outside my room’s window, and I would have wished they’d tweet off and die if wishing hadn’t hurt as well. “You’ve had enough to kill a regiment,” said Carrot Top firmly. She’d seated herself at the foot of my bed, keeping an eye on me. The whole room itself was somewhere high up in the Crystal Palace, all pale colours and soft furnishings and cabinets full of supplies to help mewling convalescents like myself. “Surely you’re numb by now.” “Not totally.” I slumped and groggily wished ill on the world and all things within it. Even my brain hurt, which I’d thought medical science had told us was impossible. “There’s such a thing as being too good at your job, you know.” “I’m sorry.” Her voice was curiously soft. “I just … I didn’t know any other way to get him out of you. And if I’d run away to get help, I didn’t know how much of you would have been left to save by the time I returned. I made a choice. And I’ll see you kept supplied with laudanum. In moderation, of course. It’s the least I can do. And if it’s any consolation, my hooves are a bit bruised as well.” “Well, when you put it like that.” The pillows under me seemed to have been made from down and woven-together dreams, but I couldn’t help but wish they were softer. “I … ach, thank you for getting me out of that. For finding me and freeing me and … er, dislodging unwelcome guests afterwards.” “Just doing my job.” She regarded me, and then gave me a critical frown. “How much of you is there? List some things you’d like at this moment.” “A pretty mare to coo over me, a stiff drink filling a bucket, and to sleep for a thousand years.” “One of three isn’t bad. Count your blessings.” She reached over to tuck me in a little, would you believe. “You’ve had visitors besides me. Do you remember them?” I didn’t. “I don’t.” “When ponies discovered the scene, there was rather a lot of excitement,” she said dryly. “A bonafide hero of Equestria, bruised and unconscious amidst a heap of foes down in the darkest cellars, next to some grim altar from Sombra’s day, and a terrified maid who’d beheld the whole thing and was the only witness. If you’re going to insist on seeing me being kidnapped, losing no time in springing to my rescue, and valiantly spending all your strength to save me from whatever dark ritual they had planned, of course you’re going to attract some attention.” I opened and closed my mouth a few times. “Ah,” I said. I brightened. That was another story to pin on my already shining reputation, and no mistake. The crystal ponies would likely approve. Any dignitaries who’d attended the summit, which I trusted I’d been unconscious for the entirety of, would hear the story and spread it. The name Flash Sentry would be good for a good few drinks and dalliances yet. “You’re … just letting me take the credit for setting about them all?” “I’m a special agent, Flash,” Carrot Top replied, arching one brow. “What would I do with a limelight if one shone on me? No, you were on hoof, and you made for a good alibi. Ponies who need to know the truth know the truth, and are acting accordingly. The cultists are being questioned, or will be once they recover, and my fellow agents are rooting out anything else that may so much as vaguely look like a Sombric artefact. With any luck we’ll get them all. With any luck.“ She paused briefly. “Besides ... I felt I owed you a thank-you gift as well.” “A thank-you gift?” “Did my eyes deceive me, or did you gallantly jump in front of a spell meant for me?” I paused. That didn’t sound like me, but the dim memory floated back, and I boggled at it momentarily. “I … I had selfish reasons. I must have done.” “Must you?” “Yes!” She looked unconvinced. Confound the mare, not taking me at my word. It’d make you suspect she knew me. Surely she was mistaken in this case, though. Surely. “I should leave,” she said, rising. “I’ll let the doctor know how much laudanum you’ve had, so don’t go begging for more than you ought to. And I’ll let ponies know that you’re something approaching compos-mentis. You’ll get more visitors. Some repeat visitors as well, I shouldn’t wonder.” There was something in the way she said it, something that begged clarification. “What do you mean.” Her expression looked playful, though there was an appraising element to it as well. “The Princesses have checked in on you. The newest one, Twilight Sparkle, she seemed especially concerned for your well-being. Any stories to share there?” I was flummoxed, up until the wheels of memory started painfully turning. She’d concussed herself off me, I’d smiled disarmingly. Well, maybe that all made it make sense. I’d be susceptible to my smile too if I’d had a recent knock to the head, and I told Carrot Top as such. She just smiled a faint and subtle smile, and showed exactly none of the cards close to her chest. Confound the mare. But I couldn’t let that be the parting thought as she made to leave. “Carrot Top?” I said, and she stopped. “Again, thank you for getting me out of that.” I paused. “And giving me the credit.” “Any time.” “Please, no more times.” I sighed and settled back in my pillows as she smirked knowingly and left. “I just want a debauched and peaceful life. Is that so much to ask?” And as said life happened, let me tell you, one out of two isn’t bad.