//------------------------------// // 2. The Rescue // Story: Expedition // by Race Horse //------------------------------// Chapter 2: The Rescue Their hoofsteps clopped loudly through the dense and dusty shadows. A brilliant orb of white light blossomed silently from Twilight’s horn, followed shortly thereafter by the spitting hiss of torches blazing to life. In the sudden glare, sharp shadows sprang high up the walls and dissected the sandy flagstone road. Dust rose at their hooves as they wandered, wide eyed, between the arms of the gateway. Gigantic Corinthian columns held up the lofty arch above them, elaborate ivy patterns trailing down from the spiked capitals like living things. From close up, they could distinguish ponies and rams, zebras and minotaurs, griffins and cattle, and a hundred races and nameless, hallucinogenic forms besides, carved in bass relief sculptures upon the friezes and resting in niches set into the walls. Between the bases of the soaring columns, a dozen doors led off from either side, simpler archways each at least the height of five large stallions. Beyond the archway was only darkness; amplifying her orb, Twilight saw to her dismay that a sizeable tunnel stretched before them, rising slightly and bending sharply beyond her light. Looking to her companions, she nodded towards to doors set into the gate. “We might as well start looking for artifacts here,” she said, “We only have half of our crew, with basecamp still being established.” “Finally! Last one to find something cool is a moldy feather! One-two-three-go!” crowed Rainbow, and before anyone could blink a prismatic trail hovered where she had just been standing. “Rainbow Dash! Wait!” shouted Twilight in vain frustration, “Don’t disturb anything! Trace evidence…!” Spike clung tightly to her mane as she galloped after the impatient pegasus’ contrail, still yelling useless admonishments and willing the rainbow not to disappear before she could see which doorway Dash had disappeared down. This too proved an exercise in futility. She had no sooner approached the archways than the contrail dissipated, giving her only the vaguest clue which of the dozens of tunnels was the correct one. The others arrived behind her, some huffing and puffing, others (mostly the senior guard staff) establishing a forward formation around them. Cursing under her breath and ignoring Spike’s scandalized gasp, Twilight put a hoof on the shoulder of a frenetic Fluttershy before she could truly begin to panic, and called Captain Frostwing over. “Okay girls, looks like we have to find Rainbow Dash now. We’ll each take one of the tunnels along this wall, and if we reach a dead end, we’ll come back. We need to leave a few unicorns here to relay messages between us and the camp, and I think we should each bring a couple of guards with us in the tunnels.” Nodding determinedly, Fluttershy and Frostwing walked towards the guards and began to organize them into teams. Twilight couldn’t help but sigh. She loved her friend dearly, but she couldn’t help but think that if Rainbow could only be as efficient and organized as Frostwing was, she could have the authority she wanted. She sighed wearily, and trotted off towards them. -~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~- The smooth stone of the passage floor sloped gently downwards. In the guttering light of the torches, shadows danced like wild spirits upon the rough walls. Every flicker of darkness or loud rattle of chainmail around her sent Fluttershy into a quiet spasm of terror. Though she had expected their presence to reassure her, without her friends, the stern faces of the career soldiers left the quiet filly jumpy and uncertain. Her imagination was her worst enemy as she made her trembling way through the ruins. After the grandeur of the gateway, this simple, unpolished tunnel felt like the entrance to some creature’s lair or to a deep tomb. She could just picture horrible, gangly beasts lunging from beyond the safety of their torchlight, all fangs and claws and scales. The regular rhythm of the chainmail’s rattling felt like a dinner bell ringing into the gloom. Her ears strained to drown out the clangor, to discern any slight, subtle hint of trouble… The squad leader suddenly barked a loud order to stop as they rounded a bend, prompting Fluttershy to squeak in fright and dive behind the nearest guard. “Take it easy, ma’am,” he whispered encouragingly, “Squad Cap just called a halt.” Ahead of them, the squad leader strode towards the large, bronze double door that had impeded their progress. His horn glowed mauve as he examined the ancient portal, searching for any traps or offensive enchantments. The door was surprisingly ornate next to the rough-hewn walls of the passageway it was set in. Across its slightly corroded surface, fantastic beasts of every shape and description were being eternally corralled into cages by fierce looking earth ponies in various forms of ancient barding. Each pony wielded a weapon, mainly whips and spears, but with a fair smattering of clubs and polearms. Behind the animals in the menagerie scene were rows of box shapes, each containing a single earth pony. At the top of the portal scrolled intricate strings of indecipherable glyphs. After a few minutes of concentrated spellwork by the squad captain, a deafening clunk was heard from the other side of the door. The massive bronze portal slowly swung inward under the captain’s arcane urging, ancient hinges screeching in protest. A soft yellow light painted the disturbed clouds of dust gold, and the smell of fresh desert air flooded into the passageway. The room within was an open ceilinged gash in the mountain, fashioned into an apparent livestock hold and cargo bay. The decaying remnants of rusted cages dotted the floor, some small enough to carry, others large enough to contain a manticore, and one with a few pitted beams shooting up from the crumbling base to the height of a full grown hydra. Piles of sand littered the cracked stone floor. The echoes of their hoofsteps followed after them as they set off into the room, Fluttershy blanching at the massive chains still adorning some of the cages and walls. Above them, a tangled web of corroded cables served as the chamber’s only roof. To their left and right the room extended for a few hundred feet, while a few dozen feet beyond the jagged skeletons of the cages the walls bore numerous small side chambers. With a whistle, the squad captain signaled his ponies to attention. “Alright, colts, I want each of you to set off to each end of the passage and work your way inward, searching each chamber. Myself and Ms. Fluttershy will search the nearby sector and establish a com station. When you meet the opposing team or find the ‘chief’, report back to this relay position. Now get to work.” They immediately obeyed, leaving Fluttershy and her hard-faced companion to cross the room towards the arched side doors. The shivering filly winced visibly when she noticed the tangled remains of chains and dusty metal clubs dotting the interiors of the cages. The scene on the door returned to her mind, and she felt ill. The squad captain split from her as they approached the rooms to establish the com point. She entered the portal before her with dreadful apprehension, sure she would find the bones of some poor animal and wicked whips and chains. Instead, she found what looked to be a small bed chamber, complete with stone cubby and collapsed metal bedframe. A simple corroded brass dresser made up the room’s sole piece of standing furniture. Quickly relaxing a bit upon failing to find awful hacked-up bodies, she examined the room next to that, and beheld a similar scene. In each of the next three rooms, only small piles of petrified, blackened cloth differentiated the chambers. None of the drawers or door in the oxidized furniture would budge. When she entered the next, she noticed one of the drawers was slightly ajar on the splotched red dresser. The empty drawer refused to move when she tried it, but the movement dislodged something that had been wedged between the dresser and the wall, which fell with a clack to the ground below. Falling to her belly, the petite yellow filly managed to squeeze a few flight feathers into the crack beneath it and flick the thing out. It seemed to be an animal call of some sort. She picked it up, nearly dropping it when she noticed it was made, not of wood, but of ivory. When she made out the pattern on it, however, she forgot the gruesome material and stared in astonishment. It was a beautifully carved replica of a phoenix in flight, beak opened wide to admit the sound. Elegant tears of flame peppered the base of it, each inlaid with a small, glittering ruby which sparkled in the midday sunlight streaming in through the doorless archway. The brass mouthpiece was miraculously preserved, no hint of damage or corrosion marring its feathered surface. The phoenix carving was of a species she had never seen before, subtly sharper and more pronounced in its features than the populations in Equestria today, or of anything she had seen in her books and trips to Canterlot’s Royal Conservatory. She guessed that it must be some extinct variety of phoenix from long ago. Suddenly curious, she raised the birdcall gently to her lips and blew. The soft trilling song that spilled from the carven beak was unlike anything she had heard before, at once familiar and entrancingly alien. The sound brought comfort to the reclusive pegasus, reminding her of her many bird friends in Ponyville and the safety of home. She blew it again, and felt her heart rate slow to a sedate, steady rhythm. She brought it up to her eyes, smiling happily at the wonderous instrument and watching the glitter of the rubies in the light. The sharp call of the squad captain broke her reverie, and she shook her head slightly, suddenly a bit lightheaded. Shrugging, she strode from the room, the phoenix call tucked safely into her saddlebag. -~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~- Twilight examined the glyphs upon the elaborately worked bronze door they had come to. The scenes glinting in the white glare of her still-burning light spell showed scholars at work on scrolls and measurements of crops, gems, and other salable goods, identifying the chamber beyond as an administrative office of some sort. It showed no signs of having been opened recently, magically or visually. The writing upon the door, however, had left Twilight puzzled, and it was this that had halted her party’s progress for the last several minutes. Though she found the strange lettering incomprehensible, she could not shake the feeling that she had seen it before. It looked much like Saddle Arabian, though rougher and more angular. One of her guards cleared his throat and called her name, eliciting no response. Glancing nervously towards Spike, he gently plucked out a quill that had been sticking from the side of her pack. Twilight gasped and stared all about her as though expecting an attack, stopping a few moments later to scowl at the laughing baby dragon gasping for air on the ground beside her. “Told you that would work,” he wheezed to the nonplussed guardpony, claws clutching his gut in mirth. Pointedly ignoring the rolling reptile’s continuing antics, Twilight focused her magic on the brass doors and pushed them open. The air that rushed out to greet them was stale and cool. The orb of brilliance Twilight had conjured earlier dashed ahead into the chamber, rising high and flaring to illuminate the entire room. They found themselves in a veritable labyrinth of low stone walls and partially enclosed chambers, each populated by a plain, lightly oxidized brass desk, an assortment of red-spotted cabinets, and moldering piles of carbonized scrolls. Twilight motioned for the guards to fan out and begin the search. With the complete lack of Rainbow Dash in this chamber, the scrolls inexorably drew her attention. Trotting to the nearest pile of petrified parchment, she carefully levitated the thinnest sheet she could separate between her and the orb of light she had conjured. For the briefest of moments, the familiar stuttering script from the inscriptions on the door could be very faintly seen, but almost the moment she resolved her vision on the lettering the black parchment fell away into dust. She tried again, cursing at her lack of foresight. Pausing before separating the sheets to cast a conservation spell on the parchment, she levitated it only as high as necessary and brought the orb of light to hover beneath it. Yet her caution was not rewarded. Almost as quickly as the last sheet, this one crumbled into nothingness and drifted to the dusty stone below. Spike shuffled on her back, saying nothing. She trotted between the low walls of the ancient offices, pausing where she encountered black mounds of rotting scroll to make a few attempts at preserving a fragment for study. “Maybe we should just go back to looking for Dash,” Spike suggested after her thirty-seventh consecutive failed attempt to procure a legible sample. “We have to wait until the rendezvous time,” she snapped, a little more harshly than she had intended. She sighed, then said in a more even tone, “If Rainbow was found by one of the others, and we were to go wandering off to try to find her, we might waste a lot of time searching for one another in here. We have time to do a bit of archaeology while we wait.” They soon came across a room whose walls actually reached the tiled ceiling, a simple arched doorway separating it from the surrounding cubicles. Entering what she assumed to be a managerial office, she found a large marble desk, perfectly preserved before a collection of tarnished but operable-looking metal filing cabinets. The floor still bore the tattered remnants of a wide carpet, threadbare and brittle from untold centuries. Several chipped busts adorned niches set between the columns lining the walls, each depicting a different unicorn mare or stallion. To her dismay, the filing cabinets had been a misleading promise, for the drawers revealed only further moldering mounds of ruined paperwork. She approached the desk, taking note of the scenes etched into its sides, tiny ponies praising the sun and moon before twin obelisks atop a vast mountain. The blatantly mythological nature of the reliefs adorning the desk fascinated her. The first drawer was filled with hollow-tipped metal quills and assorted coins. She levitated a few out, examining their angular and uneven shapes and the faces embossed on them before dropping each into a bag and sealing it. Spike finished the labels with a flourish of his quill, affixing each to the appropriate sample before packing them in Twilight’s saddlebags. The second contained nothing of note but a small brass hourglass, fashioned with a chain to be worn as a lanyard. She could see tiny etchings around the arms of the timepiece, which she assumed indicated the elapsed time. The third drawer contained rotten documents and a small, rusted iron blade, presumably a letter opener. As her magic came over the final drawer, she felt the buzz of an enchantment vibrate in her horn. Hopeful anticipation grew in her when she identified the spell as a preservation field. Sliding the drawer open effortlessly, she found to her delight several cracked brass scroll tubes, which she carefully raised and laid out on the desk. As she lifted the last one from its place, she noticed a slight lip at the bottom of the drawer. She prized the false bottom loose and gasped. Inside, nearly impervious to the millennia, faded burgundy velvet cradled an ornate, mechanical scroll case, its brass surface gleaming in the light of her spell. The two cylindrical scroll tubes that made up the body of the device were fastened together with a thin clasp. Their surfaces were coated in the same jittery, winding script she had glimpsed briefly in her ill-fated parchment samples, spiraling around the gleaming golden brass like coiling vines. If she had been impressed with the scroll tube’s artistry, it was nothing compared to her awe as her magic slid the parchment loose from the metal. A vivid, colorful painting dominated the section she had revealed, colors unfaded by the grace of the cleverly enchanted drawer. In it, eight white robed unicorn stallions approached a large, hollow cube bearing an offering of wheat and vegetables. Within the cube swirled a familiar pair of stylized alicorns, one blue, one white. The image was accompanied by a block of tiny, indecipherable Petroti script Stylistically, the painting was unlike anything she had ever seen before. The features on the faces of what presumably were priests were exquisitely detailed, no two alike in either facial structure or expression, and yet everything had an odd, elongated angularity to it. The smoke pouring from the braziers carried by some of the priest ponies seemed to swirl realistically in the flickering light of her spell. Yet it was the familiar glyph representing the Royal Pony Sisters that had grasped her attention. She had grown up singing the Equestrian national anthem as a filly, had raised her hoof to the flag like everypony else. But this document had been written centuries before the formation of the first Equestrian principalities under the leadership of the Royal Sisters. It was inconceivable that this symbol could be exactly the same as the one they currently used on their heraldry. Even the colors used for each princess were the same. And why were they encased in a shell? Could it function as a cartouche, to ennoble their symbol? Could it have represented a holy temple, or some other sacred space? If only she could have read the text below the image! She glared at the illegible ink, willing herself to remember where she had encountered it before. The longer she looked, the more she began to grow annoyed at her inability to remember. For three months leading up to this expedition, she had studied Saddle Arabic in the hopes that she could translate any documents or inscriptions they encountered. She felt she could almost read some of the words, yet these letters, so similar to that used by the horse tribes of the desert, were nearly self-contained and were in many cases quite foreign to her. “Twilight! Snap out of it!” Spike was bellowing at her and tugging on her mane. Beside him, a glowing message spell bobbed patiently in mid-air. She realized it must have been going on for several minutes, because he was breathing shakily, his scaled chest heaving. “Geez, what’s with you today, Twi?” he huffed, prompting her to grin sheepishly. She took the glowing communication spell in her magic, and the bubble of sound burst open. “Sergeant Morning Star to Twilight Sparkle. We have located Rainbow Dash, and are proceeding to rendezvous point. Have relayed message to other search parties.” Gently rewinding the magnificent scroll, she seized Spike in her magic and deposited him on her back. Then, levitating the last of the labeled specimens and the two lesser documents into her saddle bags, she set off to gather her security team. -~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~--~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~- The stale air of the ruin whistled in her ears as she shot like an arrow down the narrow hallways, setting the crumbing busts of long dead ponies in their niches to trembling. Right, left, center fork, left again; she soon lost herself in the winding maze of masonry. The darkness grew deeper and deeper as she flew, until she was forced to rifle in her bag for one of the emergency light gems Twilight had packed for them all. It felt so good to finally be getting somewhere, even if she didn’t know where that was. Dozens of side chambers flashed past, but she didn’t slow down to search them. She was sure that whatever awesome treasures this place held would be much further in. Only lame things like books and pottery were likely to be so close to the entrance, and after that endless trek through the Badlands, Rainbow Dash was absolutely fed up with lameness. As she raced around yet another hairpin bend in the hallway, its floor rising steeply below her, a pair of large bronze doors rose suddenly from the gloom. She backpedaled frantically, wings beating the air in an effort to halt her momentum, but was too late to stop. With a resounding BONG, she rammed face-first into the thick metal, her world exploding into pain and blackness. She lay there for what seemed like ages, stars exploding in her vision and her head spinning sickeningly. Eventually, her eyes began to focus once more. She groaned, her head pounding furiously. When her world finally stopped whirling, she rose shakily to her hooves, eyeing the double doors in cross-eyed annoyance. Her annoyance melted away when she noticed the artwork decorating the portal. Scenes of strangely armored ponies locked in mortal combat with enormous monsters, massive armies waging endless war, and towering dragons were etched into the green-tinged bronze, each combatant armed with a staggering array of different weapons. Whips, spears, bows; she even saw a few weapons she didn’t recognize, such as orbs with sunbursts etched in them and odd curved blades strapped to the wings of pegasi and the horns of unicorns. The awesomeness of the etchings impressed Rainbow. Her impact had pushed one of the doors ajar, as well as leaving a sizeable dent in it. Sure that this chamber held something truly radical and unable to remember how to get back anyway, Dash shoved the heavy metal open with her shoulder, the ancient hinges groaning in protest. The odor of dust and decay rushed out of the darkness beyond the doorway. The sterile white light of her enchanted gem revealed a low-ceilinged, narrow chamber. Numerous side rooms separated by crumbling iron bars dotted the wall furthest away from her, while a few arched doorways populated the wall to her right. Several brass desks coated in rough patches of reddish rust filled the center of the floor. From the ceiling hung crooked metal bars, a few still sporting threadbare rags that had perhaps been flags or tapestries long ago. To her consternation, there were no traps or puzzles to be seen as she trotted briskly through doorway. The room she found herself in was apparently the ancient equivalent of a police station. The barred chambers along the far wall proved to be cells in some dilapidated jail, and held nothing more impressive than a few stone benches. The desks were equally barren of anything of note, save for a few scrolls she was sure the eggheads would drool over. ‘This is weak!’ she thought to herself, ‘Such awesome pictures on the door and this is all that’s here?’ Abandoning the main hall, Dash made her way to the empty archways along the right-hoof wall. The first appeared to be an office of some sort; spotted brass filing cabinets coated in thick crusts of corrosion surrounded the jagged remnants of a desk, and their drawers would not budge. The walls in the second chamber were studded with the sharp stumps of ancient pipes; this was clearly the station’s shower room. She would never have believed something so ancient could still stink, but one whiff of the fetid, moldy reek in that place had her retching as she beat a hasty retreat. The third archway still sported a single bronze door, hanging crooked on its busted hinges, wide open. The etchings on this door were mostly faded with time, though a few weird, spiky glyphs were still visible on the coppery green surface. When she brushed past it and entered the final chamber along the wall, Rainbow’s jaw dropped. She was in an antiquated armory. A vast array of weaponry still hung from metal pegs on the walls, rotted on brass stands, and rested on crumbling stone tables. Most were in disrepair from countless centuries of neglect, but here and there the light from her gem glinted on the dull handle of a whip or the rusted points of spears and arrowheads. Several shelves had collapsed along one wall, dropping a couple dozen of the sunburst-adorned spheres she had seen in the mural etched into the double doors at the entrance; their thin ceramic shells had smashed upon impact, and black smears of carbon coated the floor and walls near them. She made her way along the aisle that threaded its way between the mounds of moldering armaments, wide eyes pouring over them, searching for anything salvageable. Here was her treasure trove! ‘I’m totally gonna win at getting artifacts now!’ she gloated internally. Surely Twilight would come back with some snore-fest of a book, and Fluttershy probably wouldn’t find anything, being too scared to go into the ruins to search. As she neared the end of the armory, a particularly large pile of aged weapons caught her attention. The mountain of metal reached most of the way towards the ceiling, and from the center of the pile the gleam of a blade shone, sheen untarnished by the millennia. With a flap of her wings, Dash was airborne, reaching; yet before she could grasp it between her hooves, she stopped, suddenly thoughtful. ‘This is exactly the sort of place there would be a booby trap if this was a Daring Doo book,’ she mused. Suddenly cautious, she hovered over the mound, eyes raking the nearby walls and ceiling for suspiciously loose stones or seemingly empty holes where spikes might be waiting to shoot out at her. After a few minutes of searching for tripwires and pressure plates, she shrugged, grasped the point of the blade between her hooves, she tugged experimentally. With a shriek of metal grinding against metal, the entire pile tottered towards her. Panic flared in her chest as she zipped away, and she felt a soft FWOOSH of air ruffling her feathers as though somepony had blown on her wings. When she turned about, the entire pile had collapsed towards the center of the room, some of the broken swords quivering ominously with their points buried in the fresh carpet of shattered metal. Heart thundering in her chest at the near-miss, she drifted over the debris. At the bottom of the mound, exposed in the slide, rested a long, thick stone chest, banded and hinged in bright brass. She fluttered down and tried the lid. It resisted at first, but with her prodigious wing power she was able to lift the heavy stone and open the container. Inside, resting atop faded but still plush-looking cushions of deep crimson velour, was a glittering spear. The head was shaped to resemble the fronds of the palm trees typical of the oases common to Saddle Arabia; flanking the sharp central blade was flanked by twin bladed leaves of bronze, curving gracefully inwards at the tips. A sharp spike adorned the end of the grooved bronze shaft, and both the spike and the head were engraved with coiling, arabesque vines. Rainbow’s hooves trembled as she lifted the weapon from the stone sarcophagus that had preserved it through the ages. It was heavier than she thought it would be; were it not for the thick fur wrapped below the head, the polearm would have slipped down her forelegs and caught her in the leaf-shaped blades. Tightening her grip, she raised it again. The light from her gem caught the sapphires glinting in the golden bands at the base of the head and the bottom of the shaft. Her racing mind seemed to sharpen and calm as a sudden urge rose within her. Tucking the shaft beneath one wing and supporting the weight of the weapon with her foreleg, she lowered her head and took aim at the nearby pile of shattered sunburst jars. As she began her awkward charge, a hot, electric feeling shot through her, as bracing as the adrenal rush of her most death-defying aerial stunts. Her speed was hindered by her loping gate, but her remaining wing aided her in building up momentum. When her spear impacted the ceramic, a jolt shot through her shoulders. The head of the spear disappeared into the potsherds, and the pile exploded into a rain of sharp shards. The crash of her collision sent her flying to her rump. The shaft of her polearm shot from her grasp, and stood quivering from the center of the pile. A noise from the antechamber brought her bounding back to her hooves. She quickly retrieved her weapon, sparing one thankful glance to ensure no damage had been done from the clumsy attack, and spun to face whatever storybook monster she was sure would be bearing down on her any moment. Her lips split into an eager grin. When Guard Sergeant Morning Star entered the room, she found her quarry glaring her down, ornate spear lowered for a killing strike. There was no time to call out a greeting or a warning before she charged. Moments before the brash young pegasus ran her through, the experienced career soldier twisted to one side, angling her croupier so that the blades glided harmlessly over her shoulder. Nevertheless, the curved leaf blades managed to slip just under her chamfron, leaving a shallow cut below her left ear. With her spear knocked aside, Rainbow’s guard was open. Morning Star slammed her hoof into Dash’s face, connecting just above her left eye and sending her sprawling. Shaking her head bemusedly, the sky-blue mare seemed to realize what was going on. Her eyes went wide with horror, and seconds later she was airborne again, babbling excuses and fussing over the blood trickling down Morning Star’s cheek. “I… But… I thought…” “What the buck was that about?!” shouted the Guard Sergeant, causing the usually contentious pegasus to tremble. “I… I thought that you… that you were a monster!” The absurdity of the statement stunned her. It was something she would have expected of Fluttershy, but even cocksure, naïve Rainbow Dash should have been more composed than that. “Oh for the love of Luna…” Then, when she saw Dash’s lip trembling slightly, she added more gently, “I know this place is unnerving, Ms. Dash, but please try not to skewer anyone else.” Her horn sparked to life. The golden glow of her magic blossomed from the tip, forming three glowing bubble that bobbed at her side. She cleared her throat. “Sergeant Morning Star to Twilight Sparkle, Corporal Redhoof, and Captain Frostwing. We have located Rainbow Dash, and are proceeding to rendezvous point. Have relayed message to other search parties.” With another surge of magic, she sent the message spells zooming back down the corridors to their marks. Glancing at the beautiful spear Rainbow had retrieved from the ground, Morning Star motioned for her to follow, and led the way back to where her squad was scouring the security office behind them. -~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~- Captain Frostwing’s party was the last to emerge from the tunnels into the gathering gloom of late afternoon. The fresh air was rapidly cooling, and beyond the mighty archway stars were beginning to show above the glowing red ember of the setting sun. She found the others at the designated rendezvous point at the mouth of the gateway, and made a beeline for the knot of ponies gathered around Twilight Sparkle and her friends. Rainbow watched apprehensively as Frostwing noticed Morning Star being bandaged by the medic and stopped for a word with her subordinate. Dash could swear she heard the guard captain’s teeth grinding all the way from where she sat, hunched over her spear a dozen yards away. When Frostwing approached them, her eyes were cold with fury. Nevertheless, she remained respectfully silent when Twilight cleared her throat. “Well everypony, now that that’s over with,” she began, sparing a quick annoyed scowl Rainbow’s way, “We should make our way back to the main camp. We have approximately twenty-three minutes before the sun officially sets, which should give us plenty of time. Tomorrow, I’d like to relocate the camp to the mouth of this gatehouse, and begin a more thorough investigation of the interior.” Frostwing opened her saddlebag then, digging out a small, stained journal and hoofing it over to Twilight. “Speaking of our investigations, Ms. Sparkle, I thought you might like to have a look at this. It seems we weren’t the first ponies to discover this place after all.” Twilight read the name sewn into the cover of the book, and began to hyperventilate. “Frostwing! Wh..Where did you get this?” “In an abandoned camp down one of the side tunnels my squad was assigned to search. I can lead you there tomorrow once we reestablish base camp.” Unable to remain contrite any longer in the face of her curiosity, Dash tilted her head to one side and asked, “Uh, Twi? What’s with the book?” “This journal… It belonged to Brook Heart, a famous explorer who went missing searching for Petrot about sixty years ago,” Twilight explained breathlessly, still eyeing the tome as rapturously as she had the ornate scroll that was still tucked into her saddlebags, “It seems he found it. But why he would leave his journal behind, I’m not really sure.” “Um… that’s really interesting, Twilight, but, um… could we maybe get going back to camp, please?” piped up Fluttershy, blue eyes darting about the deepening shadows nervously. “I don’t want to get lost. In the desert. At night.” Smiling reassuringly in her fearful friend’s direction, Twilight nodded, and motioned for them to make their way back. Even before they reached the camp, they could tell that something was amiss. Half the tents were still packed, or strewn about in a disheveled heap. Several cook fires were being lit, while a few ponies picked up scattered equipment from the nearby dunes. Hurrying up, Twilight and her group were met by a bone white pegasus guard. His face was an impassive, frowning mask as he made his report. Al-Fahoof, and all of the Saddle Arabians they had brought with them, had left, and had taken half the supplies with them.