//------------------------------// // Chapter Twenty Three - Law and Disorder // Story: Fairlight - To the Edge of Midnight // by Bluespectre //------------------------------// CHAPTER TWENTY THREE LAW AND DISORDER A bat-pony’s eyes are truly something remarkable to behold. Large, and with that disconcerting vertical pupil during daylight, like a cat’s they were wide and reflective at night, no doubt drawing in every available drop of light. Noctem’s eyes shimmered with hidden flames of red and yellow, drawing my own fascinated gaze more than once. She was concentrating on the foliage tracking our prey, but I’d caught her stealing the odd glance at me, probably wondering what the hell I was staring at. That said she’d barely uttered a word since we’d left the village, which wasn’t all that surprising considering the circumstances of course, but it still felt a little uncomfortable in the dark and muggy depths of the Everfree. At first I wondered if I’d offended Noctem in some way, but if I had she hadn’t let on. Initially concerned that she was being pressurised into doing something she didn’t want to do, I’d been left with the impression she’d in fact felt flattered by Heavy’s request that she attend his brother’s send off. The slight blush of embarrassment on her cheeks had been adorable. With my vision enhanced by the spirit - one of the good things that came with having ‘creepy eyes’ as some had so kindly put it - was that my night vision was pretty effective, enabling me to keep up with Noctem without much difficulty. And as for tracking? Well, that was another story. I had little training in such things and as much as I could turn my hoof to a wide variety of tasks, looking for broken twigs, fallen leaves, hoofprints and goodness knows what else, and in the pitch black too, was not something I was particularly confident in. At all! Despite my protestations to my bat-pony friend that I had a damned good idea where our target was heading however, she still insisted on tracking him the old fashioned way. Unfortunately we were hours behind him now, and that was something I would have to accept as my own fault. At least my family were safe, my village was as safe as it was going to be, and the tracks were heading in exactly the direction I knew they would be: straight for... “Chase Falls.” “What?” Noctem whispered. I kept my voice low as we continued moving forward, “That’s where he’s heading. Chase Falls is a small village before you get to Thimbleton.” “What’s there?” she asked. “Not much,” I replied quietly. “Some miners, iron workers and loggers we trade with sometimes, and a couple of small holdings, coopers, wheelwrights and so on.” “Wheelwrights,” Noctem murmured. “That means pegasi.” “You thinking what I’m thinking?” I caught her eyes as she peered back at me over her shoulder. Noctem nodded, “How far are we from there do you think?” “About two hours walk,” I said looking up at the sky. “Fancy stretching your wings?” The bat-pony cocked an eyebrow at me, “After you. I’d like to see this.” Great, I just loved being the local attraction! I also didn’t particularly enjoy being asked to ‘change’ in front of others for their own… what, enjoyment? Not sure I’d use that word myself, but I suppose it sounded better than saying I was being leered at. And Noctem was doing just that. Those golden orbs of hers shone brightly in the darkness as she watched my every move, taking in every single detail no matter how small. Damn, now I knew how mares felt when boys ‘undressed them with their eyes’ as Tingles called it. I’d never knowingly done it myself despite having a healthy interest in the opposite sex, but I can attest to the fact that it makes you feel horribly uncomfortable, and… naked. Odd for a pony to say I suppose, but there it is. I closed my eyes and let the magic begin to flow. Every shiver, every tiny twinge of my body as it metamorphosed into my wendigo form felt amplified a thousand fold under Noctem’s intense gaze - and it bloody hurt too! Normally I just blanked it out or put it out of my mind, but now that I was subconsciously focussing on it, I could feel every single sodding detail of it. I was damned glad when it was over, I can tell you. “Interesting,” Noctem noted casually. I flicked my wings out and gave them an experimental stroke. “I’m so glad you approve,” I huffed. “I guess you haven’t seen many wendigo then?” I tried to keep the sarcasm from my voice, but as predicted it went right over her head. “No,” Noctem shrugged. “For everything there is a first time.” She paused, eyeing me up and down. “A child of the goddess mating with a wendigo...” She scratched her chin thoughtfully, “A fascinating pairing that could produce a foal with tremendous potential.” I nearly tripped over my own hooves in surprise. Dear gods, didn’t she think before she spoke? I suppose I appreciated the openness, but Noctem’s frankness was bordering on the chronically naive if not downright offensive. And now I was beginning to wonder whether I was going on a mission with a bloody pervert too! Or one who saw me as useful breeding stock at any rate. “You can forget that too, Madam,” I snorted. “Myself and my family are not on anyponies breeding program, and never will be, thank you very much.” She smiled wryly, “A shame. The goddess would doubtless have approved of such a pairing and blessed the union.” She held up a hoof stopping my reply, “But no matter. Some day there will be more wendigo in the world, and then we shall see, shall we not?” “I guess we shall.” I took a breath, checked my surroundings once more, and stretched out my wings, “Coming?” “Maybe later,” Noctem smirked, and with a sudden beat of her wings shot straight up into the air. “Bloody mares...” A powerful downbeat, a leap, and I was up above the canopy angling up after the cheeky creature from… wherever bat ponies were from. Speaking of which… “Why do they call you ‘children of the goddess’?” The night air blew past us, cool and deliciously refreshing as we flew on. Noctem looked at me askance as she answered, “Because we are children of the night, Lord Fairlight. We are descended from the first of the people: Ülf’s children. We worship not his wife, but the goddess of the moon. The goddess who took us into exile with her until our return.” Nightmare Moon no doubt. “I know your people are part thestral,” I noted pleasantly, “like my daughter, Horizon.” “She is as the first of us was,” Noctem replied a little cryptically. “She is a blend of two peoples, and two worlds. She is of the night and the day, but her heart will forever belong to the moon and the night sky. As it is with all our people.” “She does seem a little… um...” I blinked, trying to find the right words, “A little ‘leaner’ than other bat-ponies I’ve seen?” I gave her an embarrassed smile, “Ponies tend to look a touch ‘tubby around the tum’, if you follow me. Come to think of it she looks a bit like Tempest Moon in some ways.” “Of course she does,” Noctem smirked. “He was our forefather, and the first of our kind. You have met him, yes?” “In Tartarus,” I replied. “Even in death he serves,” she said dreamily. “A stallion of stallions.” “Mmm, yes, well...” I felt my cheeks warming. The last thing I expected to be doing tonight was flying over the Everfree with a Tempest fan-girl gushing all over the place. Gods, it was like being on holiday with a hormonal bloody teenager. I decided to change the subject quickly. “I have to say it’s a little weird to find bat ponies working there,” I pointed out. “Why aren’t they in the herd like other deceased ponies?” “They are,” Noctem replied casually. “They have their own villages where they are free from interference from the queen’s children.” “Nothing quite like self imposed segregation,” I muttered. Ignoring my comment, Noctem continued, “The ones you met in Tartarus volunteer to look after the most dangerous, and the most evil, because we are more… ‘resilient’ than ponies.” I suppose I couldn’t disagree on that point. Still, the last thing I wanted was my daughter ending up working in that shit hole. “Horizon will choose her own path,” I announced, probably more to the world than Noctem. “I’ll be damned if I let some shitty fate befall my daughter because of some antiquated notion of subservience to some blasted alicorn tar-” I pulled myself up short, reining in my temper as two golden eyes bored into me. “I mean, she will be free to be whomever she wants to be.” “As a good father would wish for his child.” Noctem’s eyes never left mine, “We are all born free, Lord Fairlight. We choose to be with our people because many ponies find our appearance troubling, as I am certain you will know only too well yourself.” Ha! She got that right on the money. Shrieks of ‘Demon!’ and ‘Monster!’ were never far away when I was around. Thank the gods I’d remembered to pack my sunglasses. The last thing I needed was ponies screaming and running around when I was trying to deal with something important. Delicate equestrian sensibilities be damned; there was work to do, and what we didn’t need was some idiot giving the game away because they were afraid of their own stupid shadow. Speaking of which, we’d have to land outside the village in case one of the locals had good night vision too. Pegasi had surprised me like that on more than one occasion. In fact sneaking anything past Tingles had proven a fruitless endeavour more times than I care to remember. But one thing I could remember well was the smell and sound of the waterfall as it cascaded over the rocks that gave Chase Falls its name. Supposedly a mare had broken up with her lover at some undefined point in the village’s past, and in her distress had thrown herself from the top of the falls onto the rocks below. Her stallion, blinded by grief, followed her. Whether it was true or not was debatable; many such stories abound in remote areas such as this, it gives a little ‘pep’ to the image of the place when visitors come calling. Not to mention the chance for old farts to regale you with ‘folksy wisdom from yesteryear’ at every blasted opportunity. Huh, I wonder how they’d feel if I told them I’d already been dead and come back to the land of the living? That would give them something to talk about. We landed on the edge of a small copse at the foot of the falls. It was fairly small as far as waterfalls go, but still quite a height all the same, and in the full moonlight a beautiful place to visit with a loved one. Or in my case, two. Meadow would have loved it, but… yeah. Damn it all. I gave myself a shake and pulled my hood over my head, hiding my eyes. Sunglasses might look just a tad peculiar in the middle of the night, but this would do the job just as well. As nosy as ponies could be in these parts, they still tended to give you your space if you made it clear you weren’t interested in divulging your entire lineage like some blasted pedigree bull. And boy, did they like doing that round here! ‘Lord Fartington Pants, son of Crappington Pants, son of Stained Pants, son of…’. You get the idea. “Any sign of him?” I asked after a few minutes. Noctem frowned, looking around, “There’s too many fresh prints here. Too much mud. I can’t be certain.” “Maybe we outpaced him,” I suggested. The bat-pony shook her head, staring at the ground with a look of disappointment on her face, “No. The prints come in here from the other side of the stream, but disappear amongst the rest.” Noctem looked up, peering off into the darkness. “We’ll need to look further afield.” Letting out a huff she glanced down at her hooves in distaste, “Maybe away from all the mud too.” “Or maybe not.” I lifted a hoof, pointing to the dilapidated structure that passed as the local tavern, and the best source of information in Chase Falls. “Fancy a pint?” I have to say that for a place that could only be loosely called a ‘village’, Chase Falls had a pretty good set up by and large, if you could ignore the ever present smell of dampness and the sea of mud. Mostly workers lived here, ponies who made their living producing some surprisingly high quality wares. The village was probably best known for its iron. Although it was fairly small affair compared to other metal producing towns across the country, the iron from Chase Falls was highly sought after due to its lack of impurities. It was all self contained too, with the ore being mined and smelted on site before being turned into ingots and sold to other sites both in Equestria and abroad. Some enterprising individuals had set up their own businesses in the village converting the iron into steel, some of which was exceptionally high quality carbon steel used for everything from manufacturing to weapons production. I say that because I knew some of it had found its way into our own village, as indeed a lot of our our produce: bread, beer, spirits and so forth, had worked their way here too. Technically Smiling Borders was something of a no-go area for the surrounding villages and carried a reputation of wanting to stay that way. And yet there was always that little trickle of trade wasn’t there? Perhaps the tribe weren’t quite as inward thinking as I’d first thought, and Tingles had certainly worked her magic on the place during my absence. With our ideas and drive combined, all of us would have an input into how we took the tribe forward into the future. I could feel a thrill of excitement at the prospect zinging through me just thinking about it! Music and a burst of laughter from inside rolled out as I opened the door into the crowded tavern. Inside was a damned site better than the outside, that was for sure. The seating, tables, bar, even the fixtures and fittings, were all very nicely made, and an extraordinary contrast with the grubby and unkempt look of the outside. Sets of boots all sat in neat rows where the workers had taken them off to keep the floor clean. There was even a sign, ‘Please remove your boots’ in case you’d forgotten, but it didn’t seem necessary here at all. Fortunately there was a hoof scrubber and a cleaning set comprising of picks, brushes and water for those poor sods like us who hadn’t thought to wear boots when visiting. There was another thing that surprised me too: nopony paid us any heed whatsoever. I’d half expected the music to stop and all eyes to turn to us when we’d walked in, but far from it. Everypony seemed far more interested in enjoying the music, each others company, and beer. Speaking of which… “Evenin’” “Hello, Landlord,” I smiled. “What would you recommend?” The red and cream patched stallion jerked his head towards the barrels and bottle racks behind him. “Points o’ wheat beer be good ‘ere, an’ there be ginger spoiced rum too if’n yer fancy.” “I’ll have the rum please,” I asked. “Noctem?” “Wheat beer,” the mare replied simply. The landlord nodded and began arranging our drinks. “What are we doing here?” Noctem hissed under her cowl, “We’re supposed to be tracking our target!” “We’re in the best place for information,” I said pulling myself up onto the bar stool. “I’ve never met a landlord yet who hasn’t had a good handle on what’s going on in the area.” The drinks arrived moments later. “Six bits, squoire.” I dropped the coins into his hoof and smiled, “We’re supposed to be meeting a friend of ours here. I was wondering if you’ve seen him tonight?” “Woz ‘e bookin’ a room?” the landlord asked. I shrugged, “Well, he had come a long way so it’s entirely possible. His name’s Hemlock, but he may have been using a different name.” I chuckled as I had a sip of my drink, “Problems with the wife, and… well, you know. The ‘other’ one?” “Oh!” The land beamed, “Aye, oi do that. Can’t say oi’ve seen’ yer pal tho. Mebbe ‘es late, eh?” “Yeah...” I sighed. “Maybe.” “Shit!” Noctem grumbled, “I knew this was a waste of-” “Ey, you.” A large calico coloured earth stallion reeking of ale leaned over towards us, treating us to a face full of beery fumes. “’Oo you lookin’ for, eh? Your weird mate?” A pegasus mare suddenly appeared behind him, putting a hoof on his shoulder, “Crack, not here, eh? Come on...” The big fellow brushed her off easily, “What’s wiv all you bloody strangers lately then, eh? You’re inside an’ yer wearin bloody ‘oods on yer bonce like yer flamin’ mysterious wizzy-wotsits or somefin’.” He waved his hooves for emphasis. “Well, come on! Tell us!” Beside me Noctem had already moved, her hooves sliding almost imperceptibly into a fighting stance. In fact I probably wouldn’t have noticed as my attention was fully on the stallion in front of me, but his partner had seen it. I’d seen the reflection in her eyes and the subtle change in her tone. She reached up and pulled at the immovable stallion, “Crack, for bucks sake! Don’t mess with these ponies!” “Your a big guy, Crack,” I smiled. “Let me guess, you work in mining, right?” “What’s it to you, eh, wizzy?” he snarled. I nodded to myself thoughtfully, keeping my voice polite and as unthreatening as I could make it. “I’m looking to do some trade with Chase Falls,” I said picking up my drink and sipping it slowly. “I need contacts here, Crack. Ponies who I can trust, who can deliver on time and be reliable. I need,” I said pointedly, “Ponies who aren’t afraid of a challenge.” “A challenge?” Crack’s eyes focussed and unfocussed as his alcohol infused brain tried to comprehend what I was saying. I could almost hear the little demons of greed battling the armies of testosterone in his head. Thank the gods his marefriend came to the rescue. “Who are you?” she asked leaning forward. “A merchant?” “Of sorts.” I bobbed my head to her, but made sure I kept including Crack in what I said. “You could say I’m on the town committee. We’re looking into expanding our trade. Chase Falls is our first choice, and I think it would profit well from what we have in mind.” I smacked my lips, “Very well indeed.” “And what do you have in mind exactly?” the mare asked curiously. “Iron,” I replied. “Steel, wood, barrels, furniture, general building materials.” I smiled broadly, “Lots of building materials.” She looked at me askance, “How are you going to pay for all of this then?” “Gold,” I said simply. I looked at Crack, making sure I had his full attention. “More gold than you could imagine.” Crack licked his lips, his eyes alighting on the single golden coin I held in my hoof. It was only a simple coin, one I had found sitting atop one of the barrels in the fortress warehouse and pocketed for good luck. It drew the drunken stallion to it like some hoarding dragonling. “Gold...” he murmured. “So,” I said, flipping the coin pack into my pocket, “what do you say? Can you help us or is there somepony else we could talk to who-” “No. I can help you.” The pegasus mare held out her hoof, “Chisel. I’m the board of trade here. Crack is…” She sighed, “My husband.” “Handy guy in to have around, I’ll wager.” I bobbed my head respectfully to him, “Ready to make some money, Crack?” He grinned broadly, “Aye!” And clopped me on the shoulder so hard he nearly dislocated the bloody thing. “Excellent,” I winced. “Now then, I’ll be sending over some representatives in the next few days when we get back from our business trip. In the meantime, I don’t suppose either of you have seen one of our associates have you?” Noctem pulled out a scroll from her pack and held it up for them to see. “Unicorn. Brown coat, white mane and tail, light green eyes.” “Nah,” Crack shrugged, staring at the drawing. “I’d know of any strange unicorns in town.” Chisel stared at the picture in silence, her eyes narrowing, “There was... somepony...” She turned and shouted into the throng, “Pillow! Hoy! Get your arse over here, girl!” A white mare with a black stripe down her nose and bright red eyes wobbled out from the mass of merry makers and, somewhat unsteadily, joined our small party. One loud burp later she was half leaning on Chisel. “Wotcha want, boss?” “You seen this guy?” Chisel asked. “Brown coat, white hair, green eyes.” Pillow sniffed, “Yeah, I seen ‘im. Funny little fella ‘e was too.” She burped again and wiped the spittle from her muzzle, “’E went over to the wheelwrights when I last seen ‘im. Didn’t say much.” She stared at the picture and frowned, “Yer pictures wrong tho’. E’s no unicorn, e’s an earth pone that lad.” “An earth pony?” I looked at the picture and back to Noctem, “You sure, Pillow?” “Sure as I’ve got an ‘ole in me bum, yeah.” She chuckled and took a swig of her beer, “Had a funny little hat on ‘is ‘ead, but no ‘orn.” My heartbeat began to race. This had to be our boy, but… no horn? Noctem’s picture had to be wrong. Either that or Pillow was so soused she couldn’t remember. “Where’s the wheelwright’s?” I asked. Chisel jerked a hoof towards the door, “Last building before the logging camp on the eastern edge of the village. Be closed now though.” Noctem tapped me on the shoulder, “May be worth looking in case he’s waiting there for us.” “Bloody hell, he’s always like this!” I jested. “Better go and rescue him then before he gets hypothermia.” I turned back to the bar, “Landlord, get these ponies a drink on me.” I dumped a pile of bits on the counter to a roar of cheers. “Be seeing you, Chisel, Crack, Pillow.” We turned for the door, but Chisel held out a hoof. “Who are you? You never said.” “Ah, my apologies.” I bowed and smiled politely, “My name is Fairlight Loam, and I’m sure we’ll be speaking again soon. For now, I bid a good evening to you all.” Forgotten in the rush to the bar and the promise of a free round, Noctem and I managed to slip out of the tavern and into the night. Behind us Chisel mouthed my name, her voice lost in the din. How the town would feel about trading openly with Smiling Borders remained to be seen, but the lure of gold was a powerful force, and one that could crush any superstition or reticence they may have about trading with the tribe. I had a good feeling about this, and as much as dullards like Crack may inhabit this place, cooler and more business savvy heads were most certainly in charge. Soon enough money would indeed start to flow, and all would be going according to plan. My plan. “Come on, let’s move.” Noctem picked up her pace, hurrying across the muddy ground. I followed her through the mud, trying to ignore how it clung and sucked at my hooves. Unfortunately flying wasn’t an option as changing into a wendigo here would most definitely be unwise. Cloak or no cloak there were some things you just couldn’t disguise, and the last thing I fancied was running from a drunken lynch mob. Thankfully there were few of the residents about tonight, and I couldn’t blame them considering how muddy and wet everything was. Besides, The tavern was quite clearly the focal point of the village and the best place to be on a chilly evening. Or any evening for that matter! Thankfully it wasn’t that far to the wheelwrights. It was was one of the larger structures in Chase Falls, comprising of an open workshop and sawmill which took advantage of the surrounding group of pine trees to provide shelter from the wind. There was a small house built onto the back of it with a solitary light on in the window. So at least somepony was at home. As we approached, Noctem suddenly froze, her eyes locking onto something in the gloom ahead. “He’s been here,” she said quietly. I hurried up beside her. “What can you see?” The dark coated bat-pony shook her head, “Death.” She pointed to the ground, “A pony not wearing boots came this way. See the prints?” Noctem sniffed the night air, “The scent of blood is on the breeze. Fear too.” I began to draw my sword but she stopped me. “Pointless. He’s already gone.” Noctem drew my attention to a pair of long straight tracks in the mud: cart wheel marks that ended abruptly. “Sky chariot,” I said quietly. “We were right.” I conjured up a flame and lit one of the lamps on the wall, adjusting the wick until we had at least a passable light. The rich yellow glow illuminated the workshop and all the partially completed carts, wheels, and tools of the wheelwright’s trade. By the looks of things, rather than just wheels they’d diversified into building the carts to go with them too. And looking at the beautiful chariot that was still under construction beside the work bench, they would be a pleasure to drive, ride in, and to own too. I could see myself pulling one of these with the family in the back, soaring over the mountains, mist flowing out behind me beneath the chill northern sun. But sadly, such dreams would have to wait. We’d have to get a move on and- “-Fairlight.” Noctem’s voice carried a hint of urgency. “Quickly!” I must have walked right past him. The pegasus slumped against the wall was lost amidst a pile of fallen wooden spokes and ropes. Urgently I helped Noctem pull the detritus from him. Was he…? No. No, he was alive, but only barely. A faint breath misted up from his blood encrusted mouth that showed white in the cold air of the workshop. Hell fire, he was covered in so much mud, sawdust and wood I could barely see where he was hurt. “Give me some damned room!” I snapped, throwing the wood across floor. I flicked out my dagger and cut away the straps from his apron which was wet and heavy with blood. “Bring the lamp closer, girl.” Noctem hurried over, lifting the light up so I could see. “Goddess, what the hell did that bastard do to him...” I felt around his body, checking for injuries, but there was just so much blood, so many gashes and slices, that it was a miracle he’d lasted this long. “What’s going on in here?” A lamp suddenly shone from the corner of the workshop, accompanied by a sudden intake of breath, “Oh, Celestia... GRANDAD! What the hell are you doing to him?!” “Saving his life,” I hissed. “And if you want to do something other than buck around, then bring that bucking light over here and keep your damned mouth shut.” The unicorn mare, hesitant and wary of me at first, hurried over with the lamp where she placed it next to where I was working. Her eyes went wide as she covered her mouth with her hooves. If I didn’t keep her focussed she could end up causing a scene – something we didn’t need right then if I was going to have a chance of saving her grandfather’s life. “If you’re going to puke, do it over there,” I said ignoring her plight. “Or if you can, find some clean water and bring it here.” Obediently the mare dashed off, slipping on the sawdust in her haste, but at least keeping quiet to let me work. I took a deep breath, clearing my mind, and began to assess the level of injuries I was looking at here. It wasn’t easy either, the poor bastard looked like he’d been involved in an explosion of splinters, reminding me of the state I’d been in when Zander had turned the Wyvern’s Tail into matchsticks. I gentle prised away his clothing, trying my best to avoid causing further injury. There was wood sticking in him here and there, but much of it was wedged so deep I couldn’t move it without killing him. Not yet anyway. He was weak too, and near death. If I tried to move him he’d be on a one way ticket to the herd in no time. I sat up as the girl reappeared and dumped the water bucket next to me. “What… what are you doing?” Her eyes were like saucers, reflecting her fear and confusion, “You can’t just leave him like that!” I started pulling off my packs and gear, freeing myself up for what I had to do. I turned to face her, “Listen to me. Carefully.” Hesitantly the mare nodded and I continued, “You’re going to see something strange, and probably frightening, okay? But you have to stay calm, and keep quiet. I’m going to help him, okay?” “Mmhmm...” “Good girl.” I took a breath and concentrated, “What’s your name?” The girl swallowed, “C… Colour Craze.” “Well Colour Craze, you’re going to see something crazy here.” I nodded to Noctem, and without wasting another second, unleashed the magic within me. Noctem turned her golden eyed gaze on the young mare making the poor creature turn pale as milk. “Don’t worry,” the bat-pony mare smirked, “he does this all the time. You know the way mares go through ‘the change’ when they get to a certain age? Yeah, this is his way of doing it.” Whether Colour Craze’s fear was helped or made worse by Noctem’s not-so-witty remark at my expense meant nothing to me. What I needed more than anything was quiet to enable me to focus on the job at hoof. This was going to be tricky enough as it was without needless outside ‘distractions’. I closed my eyes and concentrated. A shudder ran through my body as my eyesight took on their now familiar blue haze, my teeth lengthening and wings wriggling from my back with the also familiar sharp twinge of pain that always accompanied the change. Power surged up from deep inside my soul, bringing with it all the enhanced senses of the wendigo. The scent of the injured stallion’s blood hit me with all the subtlety of a runaway train. That, coupled with the scent of Colour Craze’s fear, immediately pulled at the instinctive need of the wendigo to feed. I gave myself a shake, settling my wings by my side, and turned to the young mare. “Craze?” The mare blinked at me in a fog of terror. “Listen to me!” I snapped. “Y… Yes!” She nearly choked on her own tongue, but at least I had her attention. “Right,” I swallowed, feeling the magic tingling my hooves and teeth. “I’m going to give your grandfather some of my magic. When I do his body will start healing itself right away, but we can’t leave all of this crap in him or he’ll die from blood poisoning. So when he starts to convulse I want you to use your magic to take the pieces out, okay?” She nodded in reply, but I wasn’t convinced. “Noctem, help her, and make sure to twist as well as pull, okay?” I took another breath, “Hang onto your hats, boys and girls. Here goes nothing.” I leaned forward, and slowly, carefully, placed my mouth over the injured stallion’s. Immediately the taste of blood and stale tobacco hit me making me want to gag, but I held on. I could sense now just how weak he really was, and just how much damage had been done to this poor soul’s body. As I had done so many times with others for whom the reaper had come knocking, I shared myself with another on the cusp of death. My magic began to drizzle into his mouth, slowly at first, and then a little faster as his body gradually started to react. His tongue twitched, a groan emanating from somewhere inside his throat. Thank the goddess there was enough of him still there to fight, to grab hold of life and not let go. I lifted my hoof, motioning to Noctem who guided Colour Craze where to begin. It wasn’t a pretty picture. Colour grabbed a piece of wood in her own magic, a spoke of a wheel that had been driven hard into her grandfather’s left side, and began to twist. Each movement, every tiny fraction of an inch, was torture for the stallion beneath me. His body twitched, his life energy, boosted by my own, fluctuated and raged as his consciousness began to realise what was happening. He was beginning to come round, but by the gods I wished he hadn’t. Blue eyes flicked open and stared at me in absolute terror, but I clung to him like a tenacious limpet. Despite his fear he was still taking in the magic, repairing the catastrophic damage to his body. Suddenly he began to thrash, straining, trying to cry out. And beside me I could hear his granddaughter’s sobs as she went to work taking another piece out, and another, and another. Good girl, I thought to myself, Keep going. As scared as she was, she remained concentrated on doing what needed to be done to save a member of her family. Some ponies would have panicked and run for the hills in a situation like this, the experience overwhelming their senses as the instinctual need to put as much distance between yourself and the object of your fear as you could took over. But not Colour Craze. I could only hope that my own daughter would grow up to be as strong. Somehow though, I don’t think I had much to worry about. Eventually I held my hoof up and Colour Craze stopped, flopping down onto her haunches with a loud huff. I felt sick. Between the reek of bad breath, the massive drain on my magic and being half kicked to death by Colour Craze’s grandfather, I was starting to black out myself. I released him as well as my magic and grabbed my pack, but Noctem was already there with a flask held in her hooves. Oh, thank the goddess! Greedily I took it, downing the full flask of spirit berry juice before taking a draught of the water. Beneath me the pegasus stallion gasped, still staring at me with his frightened eyes. Good, at least he hadn’t passed out. Perhaps now that I was back to my more ‘pony self’ he would feel a little more at ease. “Granddad?” Colour Craze leaned towards him and reached out to stroke his mane, “It’s alright, he’s helping you. He’s making you better.” “What’s his name?” I asked, wiping my muzzle. “Arcus,” Colour Craze replied breathily. She reached over with a damp cloth and wiped his forehead, “Arcus Noonfeather.” “Good name,” I noted. “Damned good name.” I turned back to my patient and smiled wearily, “Nearly lost you there, Arcus. We’re going to have to get you up on the table there so I can get the rest of that crap out of you though. Sorry, but it’s going to hurt like hell I’m afraid.” The stallion licked his lips, still staring up at me, “You… You’re not going to… to kiss me again… are you?” “Nah, you’re not my type,” I grinned. I turned to Noctem who had already cleared the workbench and found some seat padding that would help cushion him to some extent. I looked back over my shoulder, “You lot fancy giving me a hoof instead of standing there like a bunch of dimwits, or would you prefer to lynch me now and let your friend die?” The crowd of ponies pressing into the large open doorway of the workshop stood murmuring until, suddenly, there was movement at its core. “For Celestia’s sake, get out of the bucking way you imbeciles!” Like a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day, the lady of the hour appeared pushing her way through the mass of hulking workers. “Hello, Chisel,” I said rising up to my hooves. “Didn’t expect to see you again so soon.” “Likewise.” The mare from the bar raised an eyebrow, “Fairlight Loam the travelling business stallion, wasn’t it? Or should I call you, ‘My Lord’?” “You got me,” I grinned cheekily. “Guilty as charged. But please, just ‘Fairlight’ will do. I get enough of that ‘Lord’ business back at home.” She looked at me, then down to Arcus. “Who did this to him?” “The one we’re hunting,” I said honestly. “He’s called Hemlock. Nasty little bastard too.” “Hardly a ‘friend’ then, is he?” Chisel snorted, reminding me of our earlier conversation. “No,” I said pleasantly. “More of a mass murderer really. Prefers to torture and murder foals as a rule. He escaped from Tartarus, and Noctem and I are tracking him down.” “Well you’re a bit bloody slow then, aren’t you!” she snapped. “Look at him! Celestia’s arse, he’s half dead!” Colour Craze held up a hoof forestalling her, “Mum, it’s alright. Fairlight’s helping him. If he hadn’t, granddad would be… he’d...” Chisel closed her eyes and sighed, “I know. I know, damn it all!” She took her daughter in her hooves and turned to me. “What do we have to do?” “Help me get him on the table,” I said standing back. “If you’ve got any unicorns with you get them over here and use their magic to lower him gently, and I mean gently, onto the table.” “Done.” While Chisel went to chivvy along the help, whilst I leaned back against one of the roof supports and took another swig of spirit berry juice. It was, frankly, bloody awful. In small quantities it was quiet nice: sweet, with a hint mint which I found most palatable, particularly in Grimble’s brandy. Taken in great mouthfuls however it was akin to being beaten to death with a lump of sugar cane. In short, it was disgusting. Still, it did kind of hit the spot, but nowhere near the real thing. “Did you mean all the stuff you said back there?” Noctem asked casually. “I wondered if you were playing some sort of game with them to avoid a punch up.” “I meant every word,” I replied. “When I saw our friend Crack, I had an idea there’d be somepony there who had more than two braincells to rub together.” “You’re quite the gambler,” Noctem smirked. “That could have turned very ugly, very quickly. And I don’t think the locals would have had your back when they got a load of your eyes.” “So what would you have done, smartypants?” I chuckled. “Bat-ponies don’t exactly grow on trees round here you know.” “Me?” She shrugged, “I can handle myself.” “With that many?” Noctem lifted her cloak, revealing a couple of tubes I recognised very well indeed. “Know what these are?” “Flashbugs?” I shook my head, “Full of surprises, eh?” “It’s what makes me so alluring,” Noctem breathed. “A girl needs a touch of mystery to bring in the boys.” “I thought you said your people had arranged matings?” I asked in confusion. Noctem shrugged, “Only for when we’re ready to have foals.” She waggled her eyebrows at me comically, “Nopony said we couldn’t have a little fun in the meantime. Mister Wendigo.” Bloody hell she was unbelievable! One minute she was this hard-boiled huntress, and the next she’s flirting with me like some hormonal teenager! Thankfully my thoughts, and hers too mercifully, were distracted by the grunt from Arcus as he was lowered onto the table. At least the morons had listened to Chisel and lowered him down face first. All the pieces still stuck in his sides and back were mostly small ones now, but they made the poor sod look like a hedgehog. It also looked like it was going to be a long night. I let out a sigh and unleashed the magic once more, trying my best to ignore the stares of the locals. Working by lamplight, now no longer a problem with all the unexpected ‘helpers’ that had arrived, I went through the laborious task of pulling the pieces of wood, and occasionally metal, out of Arcus’s body one at a time. Pull, wash, drip some magic in. Pull, wash, drip… Over and over again. A bit of muck in the wounds was nothing that the magic wouldn’t be able to deal with, but it helped to get as much out as possible first. The poor old bugger would be like a patchwork quilt by the time he was all done, but he at least he would live. I’d even fixed his dodgy knee while I was at it too, so no more arthritis for this pony. I’d keep that one under my hat though; I didn’t want to have a queue at my door for ‘miraculous cures’ or some such silliness. But hours later, and now hours behind our quarry, Arcus was sleeping peacefully and I was pulling myself up off the floor. My arse was covered in sawdust, and when I let the magic go, much to the ‘oos’ and ‘ahs’ of my ad-hoc audience, my own knees nearly gave way and I ended up being grabbed by Noctem. “Is he going to be okay?” Colour Craze asked, “Is… Is granddad...” “He’s going to be fine,” I smiled, “better than fine in fact. He’ll wake up hungry though. The magic I gave him makes his body work overtime to fix itself, and it will be desperate for fuel.” I nodded to the landlord who was peering at me like the rest, “How much for some grub for Arcus then, my friend?” Chisel held up her hoof, “Don’t worry about that. I’ll make sure he has plenty to eat and drink.” “’E looks loik e’s got mange,” one witty character observed. “Yeah, the fresh skin will take time for his fur to grow back,” I replied picking up my things. “’Ere, look at ‘is lugs. Didn’t ‘e ‘ave a piece chomped off on account o’ that wild boar t’other week?” “Aye! An look at is ‘ooves. That nasty split ‘e ‘ads gone an’ all!” I clopped my hooves together, getting their attention, “Well boys and girls, the show’s over I’m afraid. It has been an absolute pleasure to meet you all tonight and help young Arcus here. Now though, Noctem and I really must be going.” I began to make my way to the door when one of the bright sparks had an epiphany. “Did somepony say ‘is name’s Fairlight?” “Fink so. E’s one o’ them ally-pops or somefin.” “Alicorn?” “Yeah, that’s it. Oi saw ‘im change from this sparkly white thing into this.” “Look at ‘is eyes! Ain’t natural that!” “An’ that one’s one o’ them bat-thingies. I ‘eard o’ them. Live wiv the princesses they do.” “So what’s ‘e then? The princess o’ ‘ealin?” “Princess o’ buyin’ rounds, I ‘eard!” A roll of laughter filled the workshop as, at the worst possible time, Crack, the hulking monster of a stallion, barged in. He took one look at me and pointed a plate sized hoof right at me. “It’s you!” he roared. “You’re the tradin’ fella!” “Nothing wrong with your memory, big guy,” I smiled. “Don’t worry, Arcus is going to be-” Crack’s hoof slammed into the floor, nearly splintering the floorboard, “I’ve ‘eard of you, mate. You’re that pony from the village o’ monsters! You’re one of them… them windy things!” “I think the word you’re looking for is wendigo,” I said pleasantly, trying to side step him. “Now, I’m afraid we really must be going...” “You’re going nowhere.” Crack’s eyes narrowed. I noticed the change in him immediately. The flash of anger, the look of a deeper intelligence working in that dim witted exterior. Carefully, slowly, I backed away. “Listen to me, Crack,” I said quietly, “You don’t want to do this. I’ve just helped one of your people and I all I want is to leave so I can find the one who hurt him before he does it again, okay?” “How do we know you weren’t the one ‘oo did this in the first place?” Crack snarled. “We know about your lot. Yer all monsters o’er there. Demons, spirits o’ the night an’ traitors to the crown, each an’ every one a-yer.” “Don’t be a bucking cock, Crack.” Chisel’s voice cut through the muttering like a knife through butter, plunging the assembled mob into silence. “Do you know who this is? This is Lord Fairlight from Smiling Borders. He’s just saved the life of my father, and you’re threatening him? Is this how our village treats neighbours who come to help us?” She turned to the others, “Well is it? IS IT?” There was a lot of shuffling of hooves and embarrassed murmuring. She span back to Crack, “He has offered us trade with his village that would bring in more money than any of us could damned well imagine, and you speak to him like he’s shit! What sort of bloody idiot are you?!” Crack muttered something and got a slap across his muzzle for his trouble. “Go home and drink it off, you great fool!” Chisel turned to the others, “And you dummies can go home too. Each and every one of you has got a wonderful future ahead of you, and you should get down on your bloody knees to thank Lord Fairlight that he’s chosen our village, our village, as the first pick for new trade deals.” That got their attention. Eyes suddenly widened and there was a lot of elbowing and excited muttering going on. “Go on, off with you!” Chisel shouted, “Go and work out how you’re going to spend all that money you bloody rogues, before I tell your wives and they spend it for you!” Now laughter replaced the wariness and smiles broke out all round. Chisel was like a breath of fresh air on a hot day. Gods bless her. “Thank you,” I said genuinely. I bobbed my head and waved to Noctem who surreptitiously slipped her dagger back into its sheath. “Look, I’m sorry if we got off on the wrong hoof.” “Hardly your fault,” Chisel replied. “This lot are all misfits, braggarts, rogues, and those who hated town life, so they’re hardly in a position to criticise you or the people in your village.” She wrinkled her forehead as she carefully watched me adjust my panniers. “Are you really a wendigo though? I mean, I saw you all white and with the wings and horn and...” She gave herself a nervous shake, “I didn’t know what to think.” “Well at least you didn’t scream, faint, or go running for the nearest pitchfork,” I grinned, “so that’s definitely a plus point in my book. And yes, I am a wendigo.” I lifted a hoof, “A nice one though, I assure you.” Chisel let out a loud pent up breath and dropped to her haunches in exhaustion, “Goddesses, what a life.” Unexpectedly she let out a bark of laughter, “Well, Lord Fairlight, I hope we haven’t put you off working with Chase Falls too much. You know what these country bumpkin types can be like. And I should know, I married one.” A thought suddenly occurred to me, “The sky chariot.” I nodded towards the tracks in the mud outside, “The one we’re tracking must have stolen it. He’s not a pegasus, so...” Chisel’s eyes went as wide as dinner plates, “Colour Craze, where’s Pine Nut?” “I… I don’t know!” The young mare stared at her mother and then to me, as if somehow I had the answer, “She was here working with granddad this afternoon, but-” “Oh, no.” Chisel looked sick, “My niece. That… that bastard!” My blood ran cold as the realisation hit me. I put my hoof on Chisel’s shoulder, “Do you have any pegasi who can take us to Doric. It’s where he’s heading. If we want to have any chance of getting your niece back alive, Chisel, we have to move. Now.” The mare nodded, “I’ll take you. Those wings of yours and your friends aren’t built for speed.” She flexed her own, motioning towards the doors, “We’ll take the chariot. Colour, get Loganberry and bring him here. He’s the only one not so pissed he can’t stand. Hurry girl!” Noctem and I followed Chisel outside to a darkened shed where finished carts and chariots sat neatly lined up, no doubt awaiting their new owners. From the far end, one of the most beautiful conveyances I’d ever seen sat still and silent. We hurried over and helped Chisel pull it out into the moonlight. “Dad’s pride and joy,” she said pulling on her harness. “In the circumstances I don’t think he’d mind us using it. Get yourself strapped in the two of you.” A few moments later a male pegasus tottered over, deposited by Colour Craze. No doubt this fellow was the aforementioned Loganberry. Without another word he pulled himself into his harness and the two were hooked up to the chariot with practised ease. Presumably he was the strong silent type. “You all set back there?” Chisel called over her shoulder. I nodded at Noctem who bobbed her head in reply. “All set here.” “Then let’s get moving!” Chisel’s wings snapped out and she gave herself a shake, “Let’s get that bastard.” “I like her,” I whispered to Noctem. “She has a way with words.” I didn’t hear her reply due to the rumbling of the cart and the blast of air as we left the ground like the proverbial firework rocket. And although I could fly, speeds like this were something I didn’t like at all! I gripped the railing for dear life, squeezed my eyes shut and hoped we’d get to our destination before my innards liquefied. A hoof was laid over mine, a smile joining it from the unlikely source of Noctem. “You don’t like flying fast like this?” she asked. I shook my head, a head that was so stiff you’d think I was afraid of it falling off. My muscles were taught as bowstrings, bringing back all the worst memories of heights, falling, the crash into the river… drowning. “Fairlight?” “Huh?” I turned to face her, my eyes streaming. “I don’t...” I swallowed, “I don’t like not being in control.” “That’s why I don’t drink much,” Noctem replied. “The alcohol makes me lose control and I don’t like that. Here, hang on a moment...” She reached into her pack, and after a brief rummage pulled out two pairs of goggles. “Put these on, they’ll protect your eyes. And pull your cloak tight down over your ears, it’ll make things a lot more pleasant. Trust me.” Pulling the things on the relief from the stinging wind was instantaneous. Bloody hell I thought I was going to pass out! Now I found myself able to settle back in the chariot in relative comfort. I tied my cloak as Noctem suggested, and surprisingly as well as much to my relief, it worked remarkably well too. Snug against the wind, albeit with it being a little hard to hear over the roaring, I felt a million times better than I had. Gods, to think I’d actually enjoyed flying! Well, I still did, but this? Honestly I was amazed the chariot was holding together. Sickeningly, Noctem didn’t seem bothered in the slightest. “How come you had two pairs of goggles on you?” I asked curiously. She smirked. “Well, they weren’t doing much with them were they?” Noctem casually rolled her shoulders, “Besides, we did need them, right?” “What? You mean you nicked them?!” I gasped. “Oh, pooh!” She huffed and leaned her chin on her hooves, “Don’t act like you don’t pick things up that are just lying around now and again.” “I don’t!” I replied, surprised at what I was hearing. “Where I come from that’s called stealing, Noctem.” “Like that coin you have in your pocket?” she asked curiously. “I suppose you got that in a card game or as change from the market, right?” “Well, no,” I admitted a little confused by her comment. “It was in the fortress lying on a barrel and- Hey!” “And so my point is proven,” Noctem said leaning back. “That doesn’t prove anything!” I snorted. “And… Hang on, how did you know I’d not got it, you know, normally? It could be a family antique for all you know.” “A gold coin from the Legion mint?” Noctem waved a hoof dismissively, “Nopony has one of those in the house. They would have melted it down and cashed in the gold years ago.” “Why?” I asked. “Gold is gold.” “It is,” Noctem said with a smarmy inflection in her voice. “Have you actually looked at the picture on it?” I frowned in thought. Had I? “Um… Not really,” I told her truthfully. “I never seemed to find the time.” “Well perhaps you should,” Noctem sighed. “Nightmare Moon isn’t exactly that popular these days?” “Oh… buck me.” Why did I have the feeling that I’d be likely to find more too? “Wait, what about antique hunters? They’d go nuts for something like this!” “Who knows?” Apparently bored with the conversation, the bat-pony peered over the side of the chariot. “Do you know where to go when we get there?” I sighed, “Unfortunately, yes.” I adjusted the seat strap and steeled myself for a glance over the side. It was… really quite beautiful. Rivers snaked through the land, glinting in the moonlight with settlements picked out here and there by lamplight showing in the windows of the distant buildings. Chimney smoke could be see drifting up from homes where the occupants were still up, even at this late hour. Most of the world would be asleep at this time of night, warm and snug in their beds, blissfully unaware of the horror that I had seen this very evening. At least my family were safe and secure in the fortress. A fortress that would hear the laughter of childrens voices for the first time in a thousand years, and know the joy of life within its cold heart once more. Or so I hoped. Time would tell. I sat back and looked up at the moon, the symbol of the princess. To many she had been, and always would be, the goddess of the night, the ruler of the dream world. She didn’t appear in mine that often I can tell you. Besides, I doubt the girls would exactly be overjoyed if she had. A gentle pressure on my hind leg brought my thoughts back to the present. “My guess is he’ll be heading for the commissioner’s home in Doric,” I explained. “I used to patrol that area years ago, and I doubt it’s changed that much. Things in Doric have a tendency to stay the same.” “You said that as if you don’t approve of such things.” Noctem wiggled her shoulders into a more comfortable position, “Is it that bad to have things remain untouched by change?” “No,” I admitted. “I’m probably the last to want to see too much change. After all the crap I’ve been through it would be nice for things to just settle down and be good and boring for a time. All I’m saying is that places like Doric are steeped in a kind of archaic intolerance of anything that doesn’t fit into the world view of those who live there. And the ponies who live there hold a lot of sway in how the country is run. Some may say a little ‘too’ much.” “Perhaps,” Noctem shrugged, “but such things are outside of my remit. I prefer to just do as I’m told and get on with serving her highness as my people have for generations.” “I’d planned on serving Equestria myself,” I said solemnly. “I had a job that I’d thought would last me up until retirement. I could take care of my family and have a good old fashioned boring life raising my daughter and die a happy old stallion surrounded by my loved ones.” “What happened?” Noctem asked. I hung my head and smiled bitterly, “Life.” Noctem sat in silence as I closed my eyes remembering far more than I wanted to right then. “Things happen you have no control over, Noctem. And one day, when you’re just minding your own business and think everything’s just the same as it always has been, some bastard comes along and turns your world upside down for no other reason than because they can.” I looked up at her, looking into her strange golden eyes. “I learned a long time ago to never trust anypony. To never believe anypony. If you do, then the only road you will ever tread will be the one to your own ruin.” She eyed me curiously. “Does that work?” “Of course not,” I huffed bitterly. “There’s a part of you deep down that wants nothing more than to be able to trust others; a longing that cries out for it no matter how many times or how hard life bucks you over. It doesn’t matter how many times you try to convince yourself not to trust, because inevitably you always will. On some level you may hate yourself for doing it of course. You may scream and shout and rage at yourself for opening yourself up to other ponies because it will happen again. And again. And again. And why? Because without trust what sort of society will we have? Faithless, untrusting, suspicious, and devoid of hope.” Noctem shook her head, “’To trust is to be betrayed’. I’ve heard that before.” She fussed with her mane, pushing it out of her face. “I don’t know, Fairlight. Without trust the world would seem a little darker to me. And as a pony who lives for the night, that’s not something I would like to experience. No, I think I’ll give my trust the old fashioned way.” “And what way is that, Noctem?” I asked. She smiled, “By being earned of course.” The strange mare grinned at me, her teeth catching the light, “But if I’m betrayed, then I’d cut their bollocks off. I think that’s fair, don’t you?” “And if it’s a mare?” I asked, trying not to smirk at her comment. “Ah, well, that wouldn’t happen.” “Oh?” “Nope.” Noctem waggled her eyebrows at me, “Because I don’t trust any of the girls I know anyway. Boys I’ll give a chance, but girls? Nah, no chance.” She stuck her tongue out at me and I started to laugh. For such a serious creature when I’d first met her only a few hours earlier, she’d really mellowed out. Or was it just the way I’d reacted to her initially that had only made her appear to be uptight? She turns up and it’s all ‘I am the huntress of the goddess’ schtick, and now it’s pinching goggles and flirting. But perhaps this was what I needed. We had a job to do that was going to be far from pleasant, and considering what we’d already experienced, the urgency of it was something inescapable. And yet there was a playful side to Noctem that appealed to my inner colt, cutting through the harsh shell I’d learned to throw up around myself over the years when I was under pressure. The mares in my life had learned how to handle me at my worst, and I was beginning to think our young Noctem here was more than capable of seeing right through me. It was, I’ll admit, a little unnerving how she seemed able to work me out so easily in so short a time, but what did I know about bat ponies? Or mares for that matter. Bah! Who was I kidding? The blasted creatures were just as baffling now as they ever had been. It would forever remain a mystery to me why males threw themselves at them with complete abandon like lemmings leaping from a cliff. But I suppose that was just another part of life’s rich tapestry. Ha! It was no wonder Fate was female, she was a bloody expert at pulling my life in whatever direction she pleased. We sat quietly for a time, watching the occasional cloud scudding by and the beautiful night time scenery of the sleeping Equestria far, far below our speeding chariot. The pegasi’s wings beat almost lazily; a feature I’d noticed with Tingles when she had been flying at high speed. It was deceptively effortless the way they cut through the sky with apparent ease. Perhaps this was their true magic, the element where they shone as brightly as any star in the sky and with as much strength as an earth pony. It reminded me of how we were all linked as a species, as the children of Ülf and Galacia. Even if some of us were more one than the other, like Shadow, Horizon and Noctem. And speaking of Horizon, a thin sliver of light was beginning to appear in the distance. It was only faint, barely much more than a slight orange tinge to the nearly pitch black sky, but it was there. Dawn was coming. And it wasn’t the only thing either. Noctem had noticed it too. We stared out at the pure whiteness of the royal palace in the distance, glinting with the first light of day as it sparkled on the golden towers and roofs of the capital city. Waterfalls cascaded down into the valley below adding a beautiful natural balance to the small sea of white buildings that had grown up around Canterlot. I hadn’t been here many times in my life. In fact Doric, one of the outermost quarters, wasn’t even considered to be part of Canterlot proper in the first place. Apparently the top boys and girls saw themselves as that little bit extra special, and postal addresses tended to leave off any reference to Canterlot at all. No, Doric was Doric, and only the wealthiest lived there. No riff-raff, no cold callers, and certainly no government employees unless by specific invitation. I’d worked there for a time on patrol near the commissioner’s home to keep undesirables away during ‘incidents’. This translated as keeping the press away from the ‘queen of the watch’ as we used to call her behind her back. Bloody bureaucrats. It never failed to amaze me how there always seemed to be money to pay for her fancy carriages, private parking spots, expensive tax payer funded lunches and trips abroad. But when it came to a pay rise? Oh, no! Suddenly there’s no money and ‘no bloody way mate’. You get sod all, because her nibs ‘needs’ that new forty thousand bit pond for her pet swans, or some such bollocks. “Fairlight?” “Hmm?” “Something’s wrong.” Noctem held up a device that was dangling around her neck. It was a square brass object which had a black dome set in its centre. She stared at it and shook her head, “Are you sure we’re nearing our destination?” “We’re virtually there,” I said pointing over the side of the chariot. “Doric’s the area with all the fancy mansions and fountains surrounded by white marble walls. Why?” Noctem frowned, “When Hemlock left Smiling Borders I still had a rough fix on his location, but since Chase Falls...” She clucked her tongue in frustration, “It’s like he’s dropped off the edge of the world.” “What is that?” I asked, peering at the odd looking thing, “A location device of some kind?” “It’s an Arcanum Directorum.” Noctem rolled her eyes at my baffled expression. “Yes, it’s a ‘location device’.” “Thought so,” I grinned. The mare shook her head in dismay, but seemed to take everything in good humour judging by the half hidden chuckle behind her hoof. “Every prisoner in Tartarus is marked with a specific marker,” she explained, “so in the event of an escape we can find them quickly. The Arcanum Directorum picks up on the specific magical wavelength of the target and guides us in. It’s not exactly super accurate, but will still get you to within about twenty yards or so.” She gave it a shake and sighed, “Its not worked properly since I tracked him to your village. I put it down to the high background interference from the forest, but we’re nowhere near that now and I’m still not picking up any trace of him.” “He must have found some way to mask the signal,” I reasoned. “That’s what I’d do.” Noctem clucked her tongue and put the device away. “You shouldn’t be able to do that though,” she replied leaning back once more. “The magic is inside you. Unless you were wearing a suit of some kind or could weave a spell that could block it, I don’t know how he’d just manage to vanish like that.” “Maybe he’s already been apprehended?” I asked. “The message just might not have got back to you yet.” “The goddess would have told me,” she said calmly. “We speak to her through our thoughts and in our dreams.” “Your very own built in stalker,” I muttered. “Fantastic.” Noctem shot me a look that would have frozen molten lava, but I brushed it off with a smile. “Don’t worry, we’ll find him,” I assured her. “I have no doubt about that.” “How are you so sure?” she asked me directly. “You’re so confident he’s here, aren’t you. Is it magic?” “Magic?” I snorted loudly, “No. Just a gut feeling and simple reasoning. Where else has he to go? Mummy will look after her baby come hell or high water, and even being a murderous piece of filth wouldn’t change that.” I paused, thinking about what I’d just said. “Probably,” I amended. “‘Probably’...” Noctem groaned loudly, “Now he’s not sure!” “If you’ve got any better ideas or can get that fancy compass thing of yours working, smart arse, then I’m all ears,” I huffed. “Well, I can’t disagree with you there,” Noctem agreed, smiling pleasantly. “My arse is rather smart even if I say so myself. And you don’t need to run yourself down Lord Fairlight. Your ears aren’t too bad, really.” “Oh… belt up!” I snorted. “Gods, If my daughter grows up to be half as infuriating as you are I’ll be jumping off that bloody waterfall before you know it.” “It’s inevitable I’m afraid,” Noctem replied casually. “Built in with bat ponies, you see.” She leaned forward, her voice dropping to a sultry murmur, “We always get what we want.” “Huh!” I snorted, “I can bloody believe it too!” The chariot suddenly lurched and began to bank. Quickly I leaned forward on the hoof-rail, “What’s going on?” I called. “Are we there?” “There’s something down there,” Chisel shouted back over the wind noise. “Hang on, we’re going in for a landing.” “Ooo! Here comes the best bit!” Noctem teased loudly, “Dive, dive, dive!” “Oh… Oh, SHIIIITTTT!” My stomach heaved up into my throat as the world tilted madly. My straps strained, gravity pulling at me like a giant’s claw gripping my guts. There was bugger all to grab hold of too, and my hooves scrabbled at the railing, heaving on the damned thing for all I was worth. I could feel myself sliding towards Noctem, willing my backside to stay where it was, but it was no good. If I could have jumped ship then I would have. I didn’t like other ponies flying me around, and this lot… this lot were bloody maniacs! Wind roared past me, pulling the hood off my head and sending cold night air howling into my ears. I flattened them the best I could, but it did bugger all for my stomach. I was going to puke, I knew it! “Down there!” Noctem shouted. “By the stream. There’s two ponies by that chariot!” She leaned dangerously over the side, to my horror tilting the crazily plummeting thing even more. “It’s him!” she shouted. “Damn it, we’re too late!” Too late? Dear goddesses, not another one. Please, not another! All of a sudden my air sickness vanished in an instant. I pulled myself up and stared over the edge of the chariot to where Noctem was pointing. Sure enough there were two equine shapes far below us, my eyes able to make them out fairly well in the darkness. Frantically I pulled at my straps, working the buckles with my magic. The damned things were almost impossible to move due to the strain on them from the dive. Noctem turned to me in alarm, “Fairlight, what the hell are you doing?!” “No time...” I magicked out my dagger, and in a trice sliced through one, then the other, and with a horrible snap the last one gave as the g-force ripped me from the confines of the chariot. I saw Noctem vanishing down into the darkness whilst my pony body dropped like a lead weight. I closed my eyes, willing the magic forth. And thank the gods it was there. One of my panniers snagged on my wing, but with a grunt of effort I pulled it free. Next I had to do something about my descent. I was falling too fast to flare my wings out. If I did that then the wind resistance would tear them to rags and I’d plough into the ground with all the grace of a bucket of jam. Instead I angled myself forward, nosing into the oncoming wind and pulled in my wings tight as they opened just enough to alter the angle of descent. In that instant I focused my magic into one thin sliver of power, a single point of light that cut through the night like an arc-light. The beam slammed into the ground near the larger of the two ponies, sending water fountaining high into the air amidst a barrage of soil and rocks that threw the ponies apart. One of them, the larger of the two, turned and ran, vanishing into the broiling mass of falling debris. The other lay there, still and motionless. I was… I was too late. Too bloody late, again! Fury drove me, pushing me onward, down towards the earth, faster and faster until I threw myself into a bank that cut my speed so fast the air around me screamed amid the howl of magic. Seconds later I was before the lemon coated pegasus mare and staring down at her still body. She couldn’t be dead, I’d seen her standing only moments ago! She’d been stood near the blast and… oh, gods, was it me? Had I misjudged and- The mare groaned, rubbing her ears. “Dad… Daddy?” A mud spattered cutie mark of a pine cone left no doubt who she was. Or who her abductor was for that matter. “Shhh, it’s alright now,” I said gently, “you’re safe. Nopony’s going to hurt you. Stay still and don’t move until we can get you cleaned up, okay?” “Pine Nut!” Chisel flew over, the chariot abandoned along with her friend Loganberry. “Oh Celestia, is she…?” I checked the young mare over, and other than a shallow gash over her neck, some bruises, and of course a healthy covering of mud and gravel, she was mercifully intact. “She’ll be okay,” I assured her breathily. “Get her cleaned up and tend to that wound.” “I’ll do that,” Noctem announced, hurrying over with her pack already open. “Wait, I’ll be-” “No time,” I snarled. “Stay here and protect them, Noctem. This bastard’s mine.” I dug my hooves in and thundered after the rat who’d done this. Mud and grass flew as I followed the path Hemlock had taken. There was no stealth now. He knew what was coming for him, and the bastard had taken to his heels, his murderous plans for Pine Nut cut short. Only a few seconds later and she’d have been the latest victim on his list. He was on a different one now though, and there was no need for hunters or trackers to find where he’d gone either. His hoof prints went in a straight line, right up to the rock, the sheer rocks of… How the hell had he-? I pulled up short, looking around, my senses keen and alert. There must be… Yes! Just behind one of the largest rocks – a storm drain. A damned big one too. The round concrete pipe was big enough for a pony to pass through with ease, and then some. Water trickled out of it to join the stream further away, and sure enough, there was a nice clear set of muddy hoof prints vanishing into the interior. Steel hissed from leather, the fog of magic building up around me in the blue glow from my eyes. Diamond hooves clopped over the wet concrete floor following the now disappearing muddy prints, washed clean by the water. Enough had splashed up to show me where he had passed, but now the tunnel was opening up with branches disappearing off here and there. I closed my eyes and listened, filtering out the trickling gurgle of the water, the drip, drip, drip from the roof and the occasional squeak of the other denizens of the drains. I could sense something ahead, not too far, but it wasn’t moving now. No… No it was stationary, and waiting. That was good. I liked a challenge… “Come out, come out, wherever you are,” I hissed. “Daddy’s come to play...” My voice echoed eerily through the concrete halls, the first life this place had seen in a long, long time. There was no light here, no illumination of any kind, and it was a wonder how Hemlock could see at all. Magic perhaps? I wasn’t picking any up from him though. Strange. “I know you.” The voice carried well in the world of water and pony-made form. “And I know you...” I smiled grimly, “Little Hemlock.” “Ah, you are trying to intimidate me,” the voice laughed quietly. “Oh, you don’t know what I have in store for you, lord of the wendigo. You haven’t seen my dreams, and the purest canvas of flesh that I weave into the skeins of tendon and vein for the artists palette. You will make a superlative subject worthy of my most finest of works, my terrifying white stallion.” I began to chuckle, my mirth bouncing off the walls as I walked, “And yet you haven’t seen my works, Hemlock. I have worked with some of the greats of our time, and travelled the worlds of life and death to gather the colours for my masterpiece. You are nothing more than a petty murderer who enjoys torturing foals and those who cannot defend themselves. You are nothing to me, but I shall enjoy the taste of your fear as I draw it from your living soul nonetheless.” “A monster come to destroy another monster.” Hemlock’s amusement tinged his words, “I know what I am, Lord Fairlight, but what are you? A pony. A simple, dull witted pony who is nothing more than a plaything of the witches in their towers of ivory and gold. Tell me, pony who fell between the worlds, who is your master now? Is it the white one? Or… is it the wizard?” Hemlock paused. “It is, isn’t it? Tell me, Fairlight, what are you to him? What power does he hold over you that makes a wendigo his toy?” “I am noponies plaything,” I rumbled, “I am the master of my own world, Hemlock. I am the flame of vengeance that was kindled in the ashes of my world, that I may cleanse this one of evil such as you.” “Evil!” Hemlock barked, “Such a grandiose word that means absolutely nothing. NOTHING!” His laughter shuddered the walls, “Who defines what is evil? You? Me? How many have died at your hooves, wendigo? How many children cry for their mothers and fathers who are now beneath the soil, never to feel the sun upon their faces again? All because of the vanity of a pony who believes that he is something he is not.” “Do you think your words will save you?” I said, shifting my sword. “No.” Hemlocks laugh sent a chill through my spine. “But you are in my world now, wendigo. I am the master, and you… you do not even come close to knowing me. Not even close!” Damn! I barely had time to duck as a shape flew at me from the darkness, sliding across my back and into one of the branching pipes. I sent a bolt of magic down after it and hissed in pain as the gash across my back opened up. A little lower and he would have cut through my spine. I channelled my magic into healing, but… gods, that hurt! “Stings, doesn’t it?” The little swine’s smarmy voice was really starting to grate on me now. “A little something I made from all natural ingredients I found in the Everfree. Works wonders with blocking magic, wouldn’t you agree? I expect your spirit magic is having a little trouble right about now, yes?” He was right. Whatever Hemlock had concocted, it was working. My breathing became ragged and my legs were beginning to tingle from the poison he’d coated his blade in. I wasn’t floored, but not far off. My eyesight was already beginning to swim, causing shapes and shadows to come and go on the periphery of my vision. No matter how hard I tried I couldn’t seem to clear my head and keep focussed. To stop here was death, to give up to die… It wasn’t an option. Not again. Dear gods, I had to protect my family from evil like this, and- “Hello, pretty pony...” A pair of pale green eyes gazed down into mine. Damn… “Ohhh, what a shame. Feeling a little under the weather are we?” Hemlock flicked his white mane out of his eyes, “How’s that magic doing, hmm?” I blinked away the sweat stinging my eyes. My back was burning like it was on fire, and my wendigo magic was faltering, draining away by the second. I looked up at the foul creature before me, at his… “Your… horn...” I breathed. “Oh?” He reached up and touched the red and black stump, “A sacrifice that had to be made. They track you, you know. Put a little dab of underworld magic in your body so they can bring back any… ‘wanderers’. Of course the portal wouldn’t allow a chap from Tartarus to pass its hallowed arches, so off it came.” He leaned down, a rictus grin spreading across his face below emotionless eyes. “I can assure the pain is quite unique. In fact I think… I think we shall start with that, shall we?” I slipped, my legs giving way as I pitched forward. “No, no! Oh, my goodness.” Hooves lifted my chin, lifting my face to his. “That just won’t do! We can’t have you passing out already. Not when I have such sights to show you.” I coughed, trying to speak. “What’s that?” Hemlock asked quickly, “You’ll have to try a little hard to speak I’m afraid. Here, let me wet your lips.” He held a flask of water up to my mouth and tipped in a little, just a little, but it was enough. “There we go!” he smiled happily. “Hurry now, I’m eager to begin.” “G… Go… Go buck… Yourself.” “Oh, dear! What a potty mouth.” Hemlock sat back, letting my head fall with a hard thump onto the wet floor. “What a disappointment you are, Lord Fairlight. There I was, hoping you’d say something profound, some famous last words to immortalise you forever, and all you can say is ‘Go buck yourself’? How… How common!” He blinked in surprise and reached down, “What’s that? Did you have something else to say?” I tried a nod. “Good boy! Come on, out with it!” I licked my dry lips, forcing the words out. “I’d like… like to leave you… with a phr… phrase from an old… movie...” “Oh goodie, here it comes!” Hemlock leaned down, “Yes? What? What is it?” I pulled back my cloak and smiled weakly. “Frying tonight.” “Frying to-?” Hemlock never finished. He was already turning to run as the flashbug shrieked in protest in its little tubular prison that I’d taped to the brandy bottles A few bits of rag completed the ensemble, and the rest as they say, was as simple as A.B.C. “Time to trip the light fantastic.” I closed my eyes as the fire burst around me, over me, and consumed my flesh. The stink of burning hair and skin was dreadful, but I was so far gone already with the poison I didn’t much care. I could barely hear myself scream, nor the sizzle and pop of my body as I slowly began to roast. I can say with some authority that burning alive was something I wouldn’t be recommending any time soon. Together with falling from high places, being eaten alive and drowning, it was right up there with my most terrifying ways to die. Was this how Melon Patch had felt when I’d douse him in the lamp fuel? Mind you, he’d gone out when they’d chucked the water over him hadn’t he? Just before I’d severed his head from his body. I didn’t I’d be so lucky this time. Strangely though I was beginning to feel… cold. Ice cold. Oh damn, not that bloody ice thing again! I was back and forth from the afterlife like a sodding yo-yo as it was without… I opened my eyes. The fog of magic surrounded me, settling over my fur like a blanket. From inside I could feel the spirit burning brightly, sending out magic into every fibre, every nerve ending and muscle: repairing, mending… “Fairlight!” Noctem’s voice was like the music of the angels. I couldn’t help grinning like an idiot. “Oh, dear Luna!” she gasped. “Look at you! Oh no, oh no, no, no...” I heard a bottle stopper pop out and something trickling into my mouth. The familiar taste, so sharp and tantalising, sizzled through my veins. It was life energy. Lots of life energy! “Drink,” Noctem insisted. “Take what you need, just hang on!” I tried to speak, but my voice was so dry, so painful, “H… Hem...” “Shush, don’t speak.” Noctem shook her head, “He’s gone.” “Gone...” I closed my eyes and flinched as the familiar pain of my body rebuilding itself wracked me from stem to stern. “Dead?” “No, just gone.” Noctem cut away my cloak, throwing it behind her. “Goddess forgive us, you’re a mess, Fairlight.” “Th… Thanks for telling me,” I breathed. “I hadn’t noticed.” She clucked her tongue, “You’re the most stubborn stallion I’ve ever met!” Noctem leaned closer, staring at my chest. “My gods, your skin. It’s healing like… like Arcus’ did.” I gasped as the sickening flush of pain collided with the intake of concentrated magic. Magic I’d tasted before. “This is alicorn life energy,” I said incredulously. “Luna...” “The goddess said there may be a time you’d need this,” Noctem said, “at the very end of need.” Slowly, painfully, I sat up. The pain wasn’t too bad now, in fact it was vanishing faster than a wage packet on Friday night. “I think now is definitely that time,” I groaned. Gingerly I reached down into my pack, or what was left of it, and fished out the sandwiches and pies. They stank of burning alcohol and leather, but were still just about edible. I shovelled them in even so. Hunger and thirst were already starting to make themselves felt, but at least now I was able to get myself together. Next, would be the real test. I flooded my body with magic, unleashing the full power of the wendigo. No small amount this time, this was everything I had, and I let it take me completely and without constraint. Noctem stood back, her eyes wide in surprise. My wings spread out, shaking off the last of the ice and water whilst my body knitted the last of itself back into place. Mane, tail, fur… it was all there once more. “He hacked off his own horn,” I said quietly. “That was why you couldn’t track him.” “He did that to himself?” Noctem shook her head and instinctively reach up and rubbed her forehead. “That’s gotta hurt.” “And yet you could still track him to the village,” I pondered. “How?” “Maybe… proximity?” Quickly, the bat-pony mare flipped out her Arcanum device, “It’s possible, but… YES! There, there’s a trace. It’s very faint, but I’m picking up something.” “Then we’d better get moving,” I said looking around us, “I’d prefer to go above ground, but that may take us further away. He probably thinks he’s done for me, so we’ll use that to our advantage. Keep it quiet and let’s do what we came here to do.” Gods but I hurt. Everywhere. The poison had run its course by the looks of things, and it was damned lucky for me too or else all the magic in the world wouldn’t have brought me back. I’d made a mistake tonight; I’d underestimated my opponent and he’d got the jump on me. His mistake had been taking time to gloat, giving my body the chance to overcome the poison, and honestly, hadn’t he realised I was doing something under my cloak while he was talking? I’m sure there was a joke there, but I wasn’t in the mood for comedy right then. Not when I felt like I had the worst case of sunburn in Equestria. My sense of smell was screwed, but my eyesight was back to normal at least. I held my sword low, my magic simmering and ready. The slightest damned thing was going to get pasted across the walls before it had time to blink. Fortunately for me, somepony had my back this time. Noctem’s eyes gleamed in the darkness while her ears swivelled, zeroing in on every movement and sound in that concrete maze. “Listen,” she whispered. “Sounds like a drain cover being moved.” We moved on unhurriedly towards the source. Sure enough a ladder lead up to a cover that had been left open, and I could see why. Pieces of fur and burned skin stuck to the ladder like gory confetti. My stomach churned as my hoof slipped on the slick remains. I was damned glad my sense of smell hadn’t come back to me just yet, but it was bad enough. Behind me, Noctem wasn’t so lucky, and I could hear her retching. Even so she kept up with me, and, after checking we didn’t have a reception committee waiting for us, we emerged into the moonlight in the courtyard of a place I hadn’t seen for years. It was exactly where I thought the little rat would scurry from his sewers too. The watch commissioner’s villa. “Wha-?” I nearly jumped out of my skin when Noctem threw her cloak over me. She huffed, clipped the chain round the neck, and pulled the hood over my head. “You’re hardly discreet,” she whispered. “You’re like a walking advert for washing powder.” I suppose she had a point, I did tend to be a touch conspicuous when I was in my wendigo form. Even in a place where you were virtually falling over white marble constantly, a bright white stallion with glowing blue eyes would be- “Damn!” I threw myself up against the wall behind a bush and stared through the gaps in the foliage. Something was moving. A pony, near the gate at the end of the path beyond the fountain and ornamental hedgerows. One of Mitre’s boys watching the place maybe? No, too overt. A security guard? The lamp swinging lazily and the glow of a cigarette gave it away. He wasn’t a threat. That was yet to be dealt with. Noctem nodded to the ground where the gravel had been disturbed, dragged, like a pony with a damaged leg would make. So, I’d hurt him had I? What a damned shame. The grounds the villa was in were surrounded by a tall white wall with a single large arched stone gateway. Unless you had wings it was one way in, and one way out. I expect the ‘superior life forms’ that lived here never considered the possibility of somepony coming up from the sewer. Such things would be unthinkable! Yeah, and how many burglaries had I investigated over the years where wishful thinking or wilful ignorance hadn’t quite worked out the way the owner had expected? Here the sewer was a convenient rat-run for a murderer to slip in and out unseen, returning to the protection of the one who was supposedly in charge of protecting us all. Speaking of which, a carriage was turning into the driveway. I could hear the clopping of hooves carrying clearly in the still night air, the crunch of wheels on gravel as the lights on the front of the carriage appeared through the darkness. The guard bobbed his head while the carriage rolled past, pulling up outside the portico of the villa. From where we hid I could see the foot-stallion jump down, hurrying round to pull down the folding step before opening carriage the door. Even from here I caught the sweet, floral hint of perfume that escaped the interior of the plush red lined carriage. The mare stepping down was dressing a gown that had more material in it than I thought equinely possible. How the hell did she move in that thing? Ribbons, bows, lace - it was all there as well as a hat so large it hid most of her face. But it was that voice… Ah, yes, the voice I would never forget. That day I had stood before her, bowing and scraping, obedient and on the rein. Broken, emotionless, and a good little stallion who his mistress used to perform parlour tricks for her friends. “Where is my maid? Dimple? Where are you, stupid girl...” The mare’s voice rolled out into the night. I could recall everything about her. Even on the darkest nights the memories would find their way back into my mind. To that office. To the three of them standing in judgement before me. The commissioner, the gangster, and the changeling. All the while I was obeying the mistress, doing as I was told, being a ‘good boy’. ‘Captain’ she called me. Good boy, Captain. Sit up, now put on the bridle, there’s a good boy. Now go and murder the princess like a good little puppet. Good boy, Captain. They didn’t expect me back. They’d expected me to be cut down by the guards after I’d done their bidding, or simply snuffed out of existence by the princess if things had gone wrong. Of course the fact that I’d failed and escaped their murderous plans had marked my family out as targets, and they’d come back to tie up loose ends courtesy of our friend Mister Zander Pinfeather. I closed my eyes, trying to dispel the images from my mind, but all I could see was that mare, the ginger muzzle poking out from under the wide brim of her hat, and the dumpiness of her stature hidden by acres of excessive haute couture. That bitch, that monster, was still walking around and living in the lap of luxury after what she’d done? Because of her friends and her damned contacts in high places that meant even the bloody princesses couldn’t do anything? Oh, they couldn’t prove it though could they? No, not the commissioner. Who would believe that such a noble and well respected mare of equestrian high society would be involved in such an unthinkably evil crime? And that’s precisely what it was, wasn’t it? Unthinkable. So much so they didn’t ‘think’ about it at all. But I did. Night after night it haunted me, the images of that black room, the chains, the water hosing me down, the beatings, the pain… so much pain… “Fairlight? What’s wrong?” I turned back to Noctem, “Nothing.” I took a breath, feeling the magic’s simmering anger readying itself. “Nothing at all.” Ghosts, that was all they were, but by the gods they never quite went away did they. Even death hadn’t freed me from the horror of what they’d done to me. The body may recover, but your consciousness and subconsciousness, that which made you what you were, would never let you forget. I nodded to Noctem who turned to follow me. Keeping to the border to avoid crunching on the gravel, I made my way to the side of the house and to what I remembered was there: a small flight of steps leading down to the kitchen and servants areas. This was where I’d sneaked in for a cuppa on the long cold nights when I’d worked here. And believe me, a hot drink and a few minutes in front of a hot fire during those frigid winter evenings was one of the very few perks of that thankless job. In fact it was the only perk, if you could even call it that. I placed my hoof on the handle and pushed. A faint click, a slight ‘whuff’ of air as the door swung open allowing the warm air from the kitchen range to escape, and we were in. It hadn’t changed a bit. Noctem closed the door behind us and nodded to the damp patches on the floor. Looked like our friend hadn’t been too bothered about scrubbing his hooves on the mat. Wet and muddy hoof prints lead to the stairs from the kitchen, heading up to the dining area. I’ll bet mumsy wouldn’t be happy about that then. Quickly and silently, Noctem and I glided up the dimly lit stairs. At this time of night there were few lamps on in the house which suited our purposes nicely. We weren’t far from the lobby now, and if I remembered correctly the servants stairs carried up past them until- I froze. Voices in the lobby ahead... “M’lady.” “Where in the name of the goddesses is Dimple? I told that girl I’d be back late, and she’s nowhere to be seen!” “She was here a little while ago, m’lady. With your permission I shall see f I can find where she’s gone and send her to you.” “See that you do, Alton. I’ll be having words with that young slackard when I see her.” Hooves clopped on tile. One set headed off into the depths of the house whilst the other ascended the stairs. Noctem looked at me and I cracked the door an inch to peer out. Alton, apparently the household butler, had walked into another room across the lobby whilst her ladyship had gone upstairs. I waited until I heard the door upstairs open, and then close with an angry thump. Quick as a shadow across the moon’s face, we followed. The carpeted stairs was a thick red pile, muffling our passage up into the colonnaded landing which overlooked the beautifully tiled lobby below. Paintings of landscapes and various static objects lined the walls in gilt picture frames that probably cost more than my old annual salary alone. I liked art, but this place was more like a bloody gallery than a home. It even felt like one too: all cold and empty somehow, as though waiting for customers to- The scream took us both by surprise. Noctem and I froze, the mare looking up at me, her hoof on her sword hilt. Hooves clattered down in the lobby. “M’lady!” It was Alton. “Is everything alright? What’s wrong? Who-?!” “Damn it!” I looked at Noctem who nodded to me. Silently she leaped onto the bannister and with a flick of her black wings, dropped onto the shocked form of Alton. There was a thump, and then the sound of dragging. “Go!” Noctem mouthed up at me. I turned back and bolted up the last few remaining stairs. Without pause I sped along the long corridor, rounded the next corner, and slid to a halt beside a half open door. Inside the lights were on, spilling their warm light into the corridor and illuminating a scene of horror that grabbed my heart with an ice cold grip. What I saw inside that nightmarish room made my stomach heave, and I had to fling myself up against the wall, forcing myself not to gag. Blood. So much blood… The wendigo within me was alert now, eager to feed, but the life energy that had once been in there had already fled along with the owner’s soul to the place she could no longer feel pain. My teeth began to itch, my horn burning as my hooves dug into the floor and door frame. Inside, the occupants were talking, and I focussed my breathing, listening to their conversation. “How?” It was a mare’s voice. The commissioner. “Hemmy, I don’t understand, they told me you’d disappeared. We all thought you were dead!” “I was mother, in a way.” Hemlock’s voice was cold, deliberate, and utterly devoid of emotion. “Tartarus is no place for the living, or the dead.” “Oh, dear gods!” The commissioner gasped, thumping down into something that creaked. A chair? “Do they know you’re here? Hemmy, do they know you’re here?!” “I don’t know, mother. Probably.” “What do you mean ‘probably’?” The commissioner seemed to choke, her voice cracking with barely constrained hysteria. “They could be here any minute!” “Oh, I expect they will be,” Hemlock said coldly. “They may even be here already.” “You can’t stay here,” the commissioner said suddenly, “they’ll find you and take you away again. I’ll have to hide you somewhere, get you some medical attention.” She paused, “And we’ll have to clean up this mess too. Oh, Hemmy, I thought you’d stopped doing this sort of thing! Now I’m going to have to have the carpets cleaned, the walls… everything! The cragadiles can have the body, but we’ll have to come up with a story about what’s happened to her. She’s eloped, left for another job – something.” “As you wish, mother.” “Don’t come that tone with me, Hemmy. How many times have I had to deal with your… your incidents?” The commissioner snorted loudly, “Damn it all, these stains will never come out! Forget cleaning, we’ll have to burn everything now, and I mean everything: the bed, the drapes, the sheets...” She huffed loudly, “I’ll have to get Alton, he’s good with this sort of thing. He… understands.” “I’m sure he does, mother.” The mare snorted, “Oh, just…. Just stay there! Don’t move, I’ll be back in a minute, understand? One minute!” I’d ducked back into the shadows just in time as the overdressed mare, her skirts hiked up, hurried for the stairs. As she disappeared out of sight I reached for the door. “You can come in now.” I paused, my hoof halfway to the doorknob. And entered. “Sorry about the mess,” Hemlock said from his chair beside the fireplace. “Good help is just so hard to find these days, wouldn’t you say?” I tried to ignore the feeling of my hooves treading through the blood soaked carpet. The way it clung, sticky and warm. The ragged remains of the maid lay where she’d been thrown half across the bed. A spray of gore had splashed across the walls where her carotid artery had been severed by the knife sitting on the elegant table beside her killer. “Such a lot of blood,” he observed. “They’re like that sometimes. Rather like an overripe orange, bursting at the seams with juice.” He clopped his hooves together, “All it takes is one little nip and they ‘pop’ like a party balloon.” Hemlock’s face was a ravaged parody of the stallion I’d seen leering over me in the tunnel. His fur was patchy, his skin blackened beneath where the fire ball had caught him. One ear was a ragged mess of congealed blood and one eye was half lidded and swelling. “Dimple put up a fight, I see,” I observed. “As did you,” Hemlock smiled quietly. “Very ingenious of you, that contraption. I really should have paid closer attention to you than I did. And this...” He lifted a hoof, motioning to his scarred body, “Is the result.” “Why did you kill the girl?” I asked, “Why?” “Can you be a little more specific?” Hemlock asked, rolling his eyes. “I don’t keep score you know. There’s only so many hours in the day, and keeping a diary isn’t my style.” “The girl in the bakery.” I tried to keep my composure, listening for signs of anypony approaching. “Girl?” Hemlock looked confused, “What, you mean the minotaur? Oh, come on!” he laughed. “You can’t seriously consider one of those things to be a ‘girl’ can you? It’s a monster! I did it a favour by putting it down, and the other one too. Shame I couldn’t get to the colt though, I could have produced a wonderful little painting with him.” The corner of his mouth curled up wickedly, “Slip, slice. Best to gag them first of course. Their whimpers and cries do grate so on ones creativity.” “You sick bastard,” I said quietly. “What the buck is wrong with you?” “Paranoid schizophrenia?” Hemlock chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Soooo many doctors, soooo many hospitals. None of them could put their hooves on it. Some said I was sociopath, others that I was suffering from chronic schizoaffective disorder, manic depression, the vapours, a misalignment of the humours, the flux… The list goes on.” He casually pointed a hoof at me, “But I like ‘sick bastard’. Sums it up well I think.” “You’re a murderer, Hemlock, pure and simple.” I bobbed my head to the maid. “You knew I was coming after you, and you still killed her. Why the hell would you do that? Wanted to sate your lust for killing that one final time?” He clucked his tongue and groaned dramatically, “You philistines will never appreciate nor understand true art, will you? I’ve left you things that will last forever in the minds of the viewer, and left the subjects of my work immortalised in the annals of history. Don’t you see, you imbecile? I gave them eternal life! Immortality on a level that not even the herd ever could!” “You butchered foals in a school. You murdered my stepfather, my friends, and countless innocents. In the name of art?!” The mist began to build up around me, the magic fighting for release, desperate to sate its ever hungering need. “But of course!” Hemlock laughed. “You go to an art exhibit and see one of the great masters hanging on the wall and laud them from here unto the deserts of Llamalia. But in a few years time, what will you remember of it? Will you recall its beauty, its elegant brush strokes, the subtle lighting and exquisite detail blended on a canvas with the artists love and passion? Of course not!” He leaned forward suddenly, “But you will remember what you have seen here, Fairlight. The same way you remembered the children in the school, the minotaurs and the maid here before you this very day. You see, Fairlight, you are one of my most treasured admirers. You have seen so many of my works, and you have come so far, so very far, to see me here in my own home, to help me with my finale, my… magnum opus.” “You know why I’m here, Hemlock.” I could sense the magic dripping from between my teeth now, the hatred for this thing, this beast, drawing me on. It was insatiable, the hunger screaming at me for release. Hemlock smiled. It wasn’t the bitter smile of defeat, nor even of grim resignation now that the instrument of his death was standing before him. It was a smile of… joy. The murderous bastard actually looked happy. “Yes, Fairlight. I know why you have come,” he said slowly. “You have come to immortalise me, to add me to that final crimson masterpiece of life and death - the pinnacle of all my effort. It will be the shining diamond that will dazzle the gods themselves with the glory of my most prestigious work!” He began to roar with laughter, the sound bouncing off the walls with the intensity of pure insanity. “Come, Lord of the Wendigo!” he screamed. “Let us begin!” The stallion howled with the laughter of madness even as my teeth tore into his throat. There was no chance of this bastard going back to Tartarus in a mortal body now. That laugh, that sickly, deranged grin… I confess that in that moment, I’d lost myself. Blood flew like crimson butterflies in a harvest of flesh as a rain of life spattered the walls to join that of the innocent slain beside us. Again I bit and tore, biting, ripping, tasting the iron of his life’s blood as it blended with that of his escaping energy. But I would not take the evil of this creature into myself, not even if my own life depended upon it. Some sickness even the spirit of the wendigo balked at, but the taste of vengeance would suffice to sate my needs this night. And it had been a good night. “Fairlight! The cops are coming, we’ve got to…” A pair of bat pony eyes flicked from me to the gory scene at my hooves. “Oh, goddess. What… what have you done?!” I turned to Noctem as I wiped the blood from my muzzle, shoving the crimson soaked apron into my pack. “Taking care of business,” I said calmly. I rolled my shoulders, letting out a long heartfelt sigh. It had been a long time coming, but now, after all these years, at least some justice had been served for all those innocents this monster had butchered. “Come on, Noctem, let’s go and meet our new guests. It would be rude to keep them waiting.” “What?!” Noctem hurried after me, “Are you mad? That’s the bloody Agency down there! If they see you like that they’ll...” She closed her eyes, “Oh, shit...” The stallion in the doorway raised an eyebrow, “Hello, Fairlight.” “Hello, Brandy,” I replied to my old comrade. “Long time no see. Sorry about the mess by way.” The older stallion hung his head in resignation, “We’ll get it sorted out. Let’s see if we can find somewhere to talk that isn’t so… busy.” He motioned towards my muzzle, “I think you’ll need to clean up a bit first.” Happy reunions would have to wait until later however as a sudden crash from downstairs announced the reappearance of the errant commissioner herself, ploughing through everything in her path. The large mare was like an equine bulldozer at full throttle, and nothing was going to stop her from reaching her baby. She charged through the incoming surge of suited agency ponies, launched herself up the stairs… and saw me standing on the landing. Her eyes went wide, the silent scream as she saw the blood contorting her face. “Y… You!” “Good evening, Commissioner,” I smiled politely. “If you’re looking for Hemlock, he’s waiting for you in his room.” Hesitantly the mare moved a hoof, then another, until with a loud nicker she threw herself past Noctem and I, racing up the corridor we had just left. “Did you get everything you needed?” I asked, tapping the brass communication disc in my tunic pocket. “Every word,” Brandy smiled. “We’ve finally got what we need.” I nodded, feeling the wash of relief flood over me. I couldn’t believe it was real, but there was no doubt about it. I hope Pop knew the case that had cost him his life had at last been concluded, and a long opened case file, finally closed. Reaching the bottom of the stairs I shook Brandy’s his hoof, “Good to see you again my friend.” I raised an eyebrow in embarrassment, “Ah, sorry about that.” Brandy looked at his blood stained hoof and shook his head in resignation, “And I just got it dry cleaned too.” A blood curdling scream followed us down the stairs. “That’ll be the commissioner,” I said casually. “Best get one of your boys to see to her. She’s going to need a bit of TLC.” “HIS HEAD!” A ragged mess of ruined mascara and blood soaked clothing appeared at the top of the stairs, “YOU… YOU WENDIGO BASTARD! I’LL KILL YOU! I’LL KILL EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU ABOMINATIONS! DO YOU HEAR ME? I’LL… I’LL...” She collapsed slowly to the floor into the forelegs of one of the agency ponies. “We’ll wipe her memory of tonight,” Brandy said quietly. “I think its best. We have what we need now anyway.” “You know what her contacts are like, Brandy.” I flicked my mane out of my eyes, “Think she’ll walk?” The agency chief shook his head, “Not this time. Orders from the palace came through as soon as they heard of the escape. She’s to be taken away by the guardians of Tartarus. After a formal trial of course, but the decision’s already been made. She’ll be looked after there, but not in the manner she’s become accustomed to here, that’s for certain.” He looked up at her, a sad look in his eyes, “It’s a one way ticket.” “Feeling sorry for her?” I asked. “Not in so many words,” Brandy explained distantly. “She wasn’t always like this, Fairlight. She was a mare I believed in once; a real force for positive change in law enforcement back when I was a young recruit. Just shows how even the mighty can fall from grace.” “Especially when you have a homicidal maniac for a son,” I said turning away. “I’ll let you tell Mitre he can close those cold case files now. That should cheer him up to no end.” “Hey, Fairlight?” Brandy called after me. “How was the herd? Is it really all sunshine and rainbows?” “It’s like a detective agency,” I laughed waving a hoof, “It’s full of dicks.” ********************** Strawberry Cream. It was a pleasant sounding name for a place that wasn’t very pleasant at all. One of the largest night clubs in Manehattan, the plain red bricks walls, darkened windows pulsing with multi coloured light and brain throbbing music, was locally considered to be the place to spend your evening if you wanted to be in with the ‘in crowd’. If you were young and preferably deaf. Or if you weren’t you soon would be. We used to call it ‘Club Tinnitus’ in the watch house, after the number of times we’d come out of there with hissing and screaming in our ears following dealing with one of the numerous disturbances that it was notorious for. Many nights you could follow the drips of blood from the club to the taxi rank or bus stop, sometimes finding the poor sod it belonged to. On more than one occasion they’d never made it further than the short flight of steps that the bouncers used as a trampoline for the skulls of the ejected. Despite several deaths and multiple cases of injuries sustained from the aforesaid bouncers, Strawberry Cream was just as popular today as it always had been. There was little in the way of local competition either. Any attempt at opening another club in the area had a mysterious habit of burning to the ground just before the opening night. Sometimes with the new owner inside. The city had been divided into areas, each controlled by different mob bosses. We knew who they were of course, and what they were up to. The commissioner certainly did. She’d been on their payroll for a long, long time. Our higher ups could have done something about it, but then I suppose when you’re the cherry on the top of the cake, who can you go to to go over their heads? Celestia? She knew damned well what the commissioner was doing, as did we all, but short of bumping the old bitch off, ‘big and tall’s’ hooves were tied by the very same protocols that also kept the country running safely and smoothly from day to day. If they also prevented her from going on genocidal rampages, then I for one was all for it. But no, sometimes there were times when you had to think outside the box. And, on occasion, act on it too. ‘Extra-ordinary’, ‘black ops’, ‘cleansing operations’, call them what you will, the Agency, and by extension Equus, worked outside the normal operational boundaries of the Watch. It was they who tackled the darker world of crime and sin that lay festering like a sore beneath the thin veneer of peace and stability that the majority of the population saw during their day to day lives. Naturally it was all untraceable, all off the record. And of course, all plausibly deniable. That was where I came in. The music suddenly peaked as the door opened and was then cut off abruptly a moment later. Like somepony flicking off a light switch, it was a classic example of ‘magical area effect magic’ at its very best. I doubt Velvet Cream had done this on the cheap either, but then when you had the sort of money that guy was rolling in, showing a little ‘civic mindedness’ to the neighbours from time to time cost little. It also meant that he kept on the right side of his licensing conditions too. Mind you, setting your office up as your very own sound proof booth may not turn out to be the best idea in the world. I could remember the last time I was here very well indeed. It hadn’t been this office though, I’d been further down the corridor in one of the rooms where much of the drunken raping happened. And Velvet Cream’s boys did so like to have fun with the fillies, didn’t they? Melon Patch had. Until I burned him like a bucking candle. “I don’t give a shit what you think, you limp cock, just get the boys round here as soon as you can. I want this place tighter than a virgin’s arsehole on a frozen pond, got it?” “Yes, boss.” The cream coated stallion slammed his communications device down onto the large oak desk with a thump. “Celestia’s bucking arse, why do I employ these buck-wits?!” “Dunno. Ever thought about employing less rapey ponies?” The stallion span round to face me, “Wha-?! Who the hell are you?!” “That’s not a nice way to greet an old friend, Velvet.” I picked up one of the sweets from the bowl on the desk and popped it in my mouth, “Can I call you Velvet?” “Wait… Wait a minute...” The cream stallion began pacing, staring at me and waving his hoof in a display of considerable agitation. “You’re that… that guy, the one who killed Mel and Gates, right?” He clopped his forehooves together, “I knew it. I damned well knew it! I said to that stupid bitch this would happen!” He threw his hooves in the air, “Why did I listen? Why?!” “I don’t know,” I said leaning forward on the desk. “Why don’t you tell me?” “Eh?” Velvet Cream stopped suddenly and began scrubbing his mane furiously, “Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no.” He shook his head and huffed loudly, “I know your game. Oh, yes. You want me to confess don’t you. You want me to get on my knees and beg you to forgive me before you kill me. Yeah, I know your type.” He tossed his mane, fixing me with his large eyes. “What is it then, money? You want bits? Mares maybe? Or colts? Name your price, I can-” I banged my PDW down on the table, drawing his maroon eyes like a damned magnet. “I don’t want anything from you. All I want is for you tell me who you worked for. That’s it. Nothing more, nothing less.” “You already know that, you stupid cock!” the stallion snapped viciously. “Commissioner Palm Oil of course! That stupid ugly ginger pudding who threatened me into doing what she wanted! She played us all, stallion. You, me, the princesses, everypony!” “Aye...” I nodded sagely, “She did.” I tapped my hoof on the desk thoughtfully, “But you know who was really behind it all though, don’t you. The commissioner was just as much a stooge as you and I were, Velvet. You see, as much as I’d like to smear you across the wall there, I’m not really interested in you. You’re small fry, a big time gangster in an ever shrinking bowl. What I really want is the one who gave the commissioner her orders. Give me that, and I’ll walk away. You’ll never have to see me again.” Velvet Cream stared at me with his vivid eyes wide, “If I tell you they’ll kill me.” “And if you don’t I’ll kill you right now,” I winked at him cheekily. “Why don’t we ask Hemlock what he thinks, hmm?” I reached down and lifted the apron wrapped parcel from the floor and dumped it on the desk with a wet thud. Velvet’s eyes were glued to it; I had his full attention now. Carefully, I unwrapped my prize and turned it so that the dead eyes faced the gangster with the reality of the situation he was in. “What’s that?” I leaned towards the bloodied muzzle and nodded knowingly, “You think he should tell me? Why’s that?” I listened again, “Oh! Because if you want to get ahead in life you need to keep your own? Ha! Oh, Hemlock you are a card!” “You’re mad!” Velvet snorted, “That… That’s the commissioner’s son!” “Well, part of him,” I reasoned. “I mean, he was a bit heavy to drag all the way here, and there is a dress code in place.” “Oh, gods…” Velvet swallowed, wiping his forehead, “I’m going to have a heart attack.” “In that case you can tell me what I want to know before you shuffle off the mortal coil, can’t you?” I said pleasantly. “Of course, I could always help you on your way unless you just want to wait for the Agency to take you to Tartarus for the rest of eternity. And trust me, that’s where you’re heading if they get their sticky little paws on you.” I clucked my tongue and pulled out my rather singed pocket watch, “Look, I’m a bit pushed for time here, so if you could please get a move on?” “I can’t tell you!” he choked, “I-” “Tartarus, you say?” I patted Hemlock’s head and nodded, “Sounds good, but I’d still like to pay him back for having his goons rape and murder my wife. She was pregnant you know. Stabbed me to death too. And you know how a little payback does wonders for the soul.” I looked Velvet in the eyes, “I can draw your life energy from you, you know Velvet. Just a nip is all it takes, and I pull it away, breathing it right in like the floral bouquet of a fine brandy. Mind you, I believe the pain is simply exquisite. But you’re a big boy, you could take it.” I felt the magic shiver through me, my vision starting to turn blue, my teeth tingling. “It wouldn’t take long, and I haven’t eaten tonight.” I chuckled throatily, “They won’t even hear you scream...” Velvet began to back away, tripping over the carpet in his haste and landed on his rump with a thump. “It was the circle!” he squeaked, “I… I don’t know who’s in it, but they’re all posh nobs from Canterlot. They’re the ones who run the country. All of them!” “Names, Velvet,” I hissed, “Names...” “I… I don’t…” He suddenly looked up, a twinkle of hope in his eyes, “Veritas!” he shrieked, “And… and there was another name she mentioned.” He screwed his face up in desperation, “‘Nad’ something, Nad… Nadir! That was it - Nadir!” Velvet slumped, his face drained, “I never met with them, I just followed Palm and did what she said. She’d have left me destitute if I hadn’t done what she wanted! She would have had me locked away and thrown the key away! Is that justice? Is that what an officer of the law should be doing?” Slowly I got up and walked to the window, throwing it open to the cool air outside. I stared out at the glowing lights of a thousand homes sitting side by side with the neon lights of businesses advertising everything from socks to alcohol. Beyond the silent confines of the spell, the sounds of the city would be just same as they ever had been. They never changed. Even now, after everything that had happened, the world just trundled along exactly the same as it always had. And always would. “You’re going to let me go, right?” Velvet stammered. “I mean, I told you what you wanted to know, didn’t I?” I stepped up to the windowsill and flexed my wings, “You did. Goodbye, Velvet.” Without wasting another breath I leaped from the window, my wings snapping out into the wind, riding the rolling wave of magic up and away from the Strawberry Cream nightclub and the pony who had sent the killers to murder my family. I hadn’t lied to him either; I genuinely didn’t care about him one way or another. The pulse of magical energy preceding the shock wave and deafening blast of sound, buffeted my wings with its heat. No, Velvet Cream would never have to see me again. Down in the street a pair of golden eyes watched me intently from the shadows cast by the street lights. I came in for a neat landing beside her, careful to avoid the bricks and still smouldering debris. “I was going to ask how it went,” Noctem asked casually. She glanced back over her shoulder, “Not much point now I suppose.” “Everypony get clear?” I asked. “Yup.” The bat-pony flexed her wings and yawned, “Just like you asked, boss.” “Boss?” I huffed and rolled my eyes, ignoring her wicked chuckle. Mitre was waiting at the end of the alleyway with the fire crews, while a number of Watch and Agency vehicles blocked off the area from traffic. Everywhere I looked I saw uniformed personnel hard at work keeping the inquisitive crowds back behind hastily erected barriers. It wasn’t that long ago I would have right there with them: cold, tired, and wondering what time I was finally going to get home to my wife. “I wondered when you’d start blowing up my city again.” The old blue stallion’s heavy intonation was just the same as I remembered it. He had been my tutor and my friend for many years. He always would be. The big guy pulled me into a hug, “Good to have you home again, boy.” “Thanks for looking after my family, Chief.” I gave him a squeeze and stood back, adjusting my sunglasses as the last of my magic drained away. “Apologies about the mess.” “Don’t worry about it,” he replied. “Why do you think we had these boys on hoof before you went in? Besides, there’ll be more than a few glad to see this place gone. In fact, I expect the bulldozer will be here before you know it.” “In this city?” I laughed. “They’ll already be queuing up for the bloody contract!” Mitre smiled, “I guess you’re right at that.” He nodded towards Noctem, “And what about you now, Miss? Will you be staying with us for a while? We don’t get many bat ponies around here, and you’d be a welcome addition to the team.” Noctem shook her head. “I have to return home first,” she smiled. “The goddess’s task has been completed and I will have to make my report. Then… we’ll see.” I clopped her on the shoulder, “Well, I hope you still have time for a coffee and a salt lick. I know this fantastic place that does some amazing Saddle-Arabian Red.” I looked over my shoulder, “You want to join us, big guy?” “Next time,” Mitre rumbled, waving us off. “Some buggers blown up part of the city and some poor sod has to clean up the mess.” A smile curled the corner of his mouth as he watch my wings unfurl, “You owe me one.” “Yeah, I know.” I snapped out my wings and readied myself to leap into the air. “I’ll get the next round in. You all set, Noctem?” “Ready as I’ll ever be,” she smirked. “Fortune favours the bold.” With a loud neigh the cheeky creature shot up into the night sky, vanishing against the background until she was no more than a faint shadow. I reached back and flung myself up after her. I didn’t know what the future held for me, but what I did know was that whatever happened, I would have friends at my side and loved ones by my hearth waiting for me to come home. And really, a fellow couldn’t ask for more.