Steven yawned, slithering down the shoreline.
Lordie, I hope this wasn’t a waste, he thought. Be a shame to drag Cranky all the way out here for nothing.
Steven peered out into the town, looking down every street and opening he could see. The same sight greeted him each time: empty streets and even emptier buildings. The sun’s disappearance behind the western edifices made it even harder to discern what might be a pony and what might be a bundle of clothes.
Yeesh, how long are these fifteen blocks? he thought. I swear, I’m going to get pinkbelly if I keep crawling on-
“Arise, my servants!” a loud voice boomed.
“What the hootenanny?!” Steven cried out, practically throwing himself back into the water. A cascade of large waves flew up and down the Maresouri once his body hit the water. His eyes peeked out from the river’s jagged surface.
Just then, he saw the buildings along the shoreline open. From the water, he could tell it was ponies filing out into the street and heading deeper into the town. Their walk was stilted, like they could barely keep moving.
Something’s up, Steven thought. No halfway decent spa town has strange voices calling out and drowsy ponies wandering the streets.
With that, he slithered his way onto shore. He made sure to keep the shuffling ponies in front of him and in sight, but kept back at least a block. Once the group wandered far enough, he wiggled his way after them.
The streets themselves weren’t too narrow for Steven, though he did have to watch for the occasional rain barrel or abandoned cart sticking out of his path. His tactic became zipping between buildings to make progress, ducking in cover anytime he found the opportunity. Street by street, the strange ponies and himself made their way deeper into town.
Whatever’s going on better be-
Crack!
Steven looked down. A broken flower pot stood shattered under his belly. He looked up at the group of ponies, breath held. Their heads began to turn around, slowly and carefully. Steven zipped behind the closest building and held his breath.
Oh snap, he thought. Please be drowsy and blind!
For several moments, the wind died down and the signs stopped waving. Tumbleweeds came to a rough stop against the buildings in their way. Even the bumblebees seemed like they wouldn’t dare buzz.
After a few moments, Steven peeked from his hiding spot. The ponies had already resumed their walk, shuffling to their destination around a building far down the street.
Steven wiped his brow, then slithered towards the corner. The sign on the side read WINDVANE HOTEL and the ramshackle building itself seemed like it was on its last legs. Taking a deep breath, Steven peeked around the corner.
Before him stretched a large courtyard filled with all kinds of ponies, from little fillies to rugged stallions. Closer now, he could see their eyes had a certain deadness to them, as if they’d all stared into the sun a little too long. And in the center of it all, he could see an old pony with mahogany skin and greyish hair standing on a stage. His black cloak flapped with each movement of his legs towards the crowd.
Ugh, Steven thought. What a terrible combo. So doesn’t match his skin tone.
“Servants!” The voice shocked Steven once more. It was even louder up close, and resonated deeply within Steven’s scaled breast.
“The time is near!” the figure shouted. “You must get back to work!”
“Yes, master,” the crowd repeated in tandem.
What’s going on here? Steven thought. Some sort of weird teamwork seminar?
“And stay to your tasks!” the figure barked. “Anypony caught lazing will not receive the Gift!”
“Yes, master,” they repeated.
Unless the Gift is a coupon for a free massage, I don’t like where this is going.
“Now go! The work is almost complete!”
The ponies nodded and shuffled off down the main road. The unicorn himself hopped on a throne and was carried down to the road’s end, where Steven could see a large white structure sitting.
Better follow them, Steven thought. They might’ve done something to Cranky.
He slithered down the side street, parallel to Main Street. He made sure for the last few ponies to pass before he crossed over each new street. After a few minutes of zipping down empty avenues, Steven crossed the final street and came to the structure. The white wall was low, clearly more of a decoration than for repulsing invaders. After a quick breath, Steven eased himself up and peered over the wall.
The spa! he thought. Steven could see tile floors covering the dirt that filled the rest of the town, and cushioned spa chairs surrounding a small pool (or at least small by Steven’s standards). Ponies wandered about, doing various tasks like carrying wood or digging dirt.
Steven held back his squeals of joy. Yes, it’s real!
Then he looked a little closer, and his face fell.
Around the pool was not just the chairs, but massage tables. Only instead of relaxing ponies, their occupants were strapped across them with chains. Cloth gags filled their mouths, but small murmurs of pain still reached Steven’s ears.
And near the wall’s far side stood a mighty dirt pile. Next to it, a large hole opened in the ground, pulsating with a strange green energy. The ponies continued to dig within it, supported just above the emerald liquid with wooden walkways. The cloaked figure stared down at this from the lifeguard’s chair. A group of mares in white dresses massaged his lower hooves, while fanning his head from what little rays of sunlight still lifted out over the horizon. Even from here, Steven could see a fire in the old stallion’s face, the bubbling goop’s deep green reflecting in his eyes.
Geez, oh geez, Steven thought, backing into an alley. This is heavy. He glanced back at the white walls, now turning a slight green with the sun’s gradual disappearance and the hole’s strengthening glow.
Gotta do something. Can’t leave all those ponies with whoever the tryhard in the cloak is. But I didn’t see Cranky. Maybe he was captured, or maybe he saw the same thing. I should go back to the dock, just in case he-
“Intruder!” a feminine voice shrieked through the night. Steven looked up toward an adjacent building and saw a mint green pony leaping toward him from the fire escape. Her eyes contained the fury of a thousand suns, and she bared her teeth in animalistic rage.
Steven flinched.
She hit his back scales and immediately flew off his body, crashing into a pile of crates.
“Huh,” Steven said with a bemused smile. “It sometimes helps to be fifty feet long.”
His smile began to fall once he heard the other hooves coming toward him. He turned and saw a crowd of ponies flooding out of the spa.
“Intruder!” they shouted in tandem, their hungover eyes now wide open in glaring hate.
“Whoopsie,” Steven said, zipping down the street.