We didn’t have very far to walk to reach Carrion, so called City of the Dead. Only for these birds, the term wasn’t meant to be literal. When I closed my eyes, I could still see the eyes of Cyrus, who had taken us for days through the dark. He said something about the commander of that outpost, who went too far with the Old Magic even before the world ended. He was talking about himself.
But as we reached the real city, the birds who greeted us were all clearly alive, though that didn’t make them friendly. We dragged ourselves in wearing clothes that hadn’t been scoured white by the ash and goggles that were still clear, and there was no hiding just how out of place we were.
We wouldn’t have been able to hide even if we could’ve looked exactly like them, though. These birds were… different than any I’d met before. Not like Cyrus at all, though they dressed almost the same way. Except that they didn’t bother covering up their whole bodies, not down here where the ash didn’t reach. Carrion itself began at the entrance to an old mine, with a pair of armored vultures waiting outside. Both of them carried old-style bolt-action rifles, of the sort that Accipio’s soldiers had wielded before their world ended. They glowered at us as we walked inside, but at least they didn’t try to send us away. I couldn’t imagine what we would’ve done if they had.
I traded some of my clothes and a few Equestrian trinkets for enough metal for a few meals—even watery gruel obviously imported from friendlier lands was better than fish that I couldn’t have eaten if I wanted to.
Birds watched us wherever we went, birds with long pink necks and beady eyes. Even being near them had a feeling, like the pressure of the ancient mountain was watching me.
Once we ate, we set off for an arduous climb up the city. The whole thing was built into what I took was a single gigantic mine, with every cavern and tunnel furnished into a shop or homestead by some bird or another. The higher we climbed, the more refined the birds became. I saw more clothing, more carpet on the floors, more old-world artifacts in working condition. Eventually we passed out of the realm of faint lantern light and into electric glow. Then came a heavy gate, and suddenly we were standing in the sun.
I stopped there beside Dawn, letting the warmth wash over me. The sun was far too intense to look at, or even towards. But it was still here, still waiting for us.
Up here, Carrion seemed more like a dock in the middle of the sea, with thick wooden supports vanishing into a sea of ash. Structures large and small sprawled in all directions—some shacks, others like castles. All were clearly built of scavenged, second-hand wood, with old bolts rusting away and stretches of beam quietly withering. It looked unsteady, like it might crumble into the ash at any moment. But it was also in the open sky, and that was enough.
There were even a few airships parked far above, their polished skeletons reflecting the sun down towards us.
“I’m going to get us out of here,” she declared, leaving her mask in place. “The capital supplies Carrion. All we have to do is find a Virtue ship, and we’ll be out.”
It took two more hours to hike through the crowds to the sky dock. Up here in the sun was a bizarre and impressive selection, with artifacts of all kinds packed in with barely enough room to navigate between. It wasn’t like the city below—here there were plenty of ordinary-looking birds, and even some ponies like me. Carrion wasn’t an impassable wasteland, even if it was the “City of the Dead.” There were hotels up here that obviously catered to outsiders, restaurants that served normal food, and I was hungry enough for real food that even the oily odor of roasting meat made me slow and take notice.
Eventually we reached the top. We probably wouldn’t have gotten into the sky dock at all, except that Dawn removed her mask. It seemed like everypony in the Republic knew about “the half-breed.” The soldiers scattered before us, though more than a few began to tail us as soon as we started marching through the crowd.
“Is it really that uncommon, Dawn?” I asked, trusting the crowd to conceal my question.
“Is what?” she asked. Though I could tell she probably knew. Her ears were flat, and her whole body was deflated a little. I’d been with Dawn long enough to know how to read her body language. She was upset.
“Accipio had pony slaves for… a long time,” I said. “We’ve been living together for generations. You can’t be the only hippogriff.”
She whimpered, slowing a little more. I was right about what had been bothering her, then. “I’m not the first,” she said. “There have been plenty. They’re always…” She stopped, turning her back on me. “Not here. They’re staring enough as it is.”
She hurried away from me, fast enough that I nearly lost her in the crowd. She seemed even more upset than she’d been in that village full of corpses.
But she still knew what she was doing. Dawn found a Virtue airship without too much search, and introduced us to its captain.
“Girty” wasn’t much of a captain so far as dignity was concerned, not compared to any of the airships I’d ridden so far. His barge wasn’t very impressive either, an old model with a single coal-oil engine that smoked and hissed even while we sat in dock.
“Straight for the capital, aye,” he promised. “For you, Princess, anything. Only have the one cabin aboard, but yer welcome to that as well. And your friend, he can… I’ll find a bunk for him.” He looked me over, and for a moment I wondered if he’d suggest leaving me behind as well.
But Girty was nothing like Cyrus had been. The overweight bird scratched the spot on his chin where feathers would’ve been if they hadn’t fallen out, then turned away.
We followed him aboard his ship, and sure enough he gave up his own quarters as soon as we arrived. “Don’t bother getting Contrail a bunk. This place is big enough for both of us. Thank you for lending us your space, Captain.”
“Nothing to thank me for,” he answered, glancing knowingly between us. “It’s always a pleasure to serve the Emperor. Just remember the Ramshackle when you get there, and Captain Girty.”
“We will,” she promised. “You saved us, Girty. I know the emperor will be grateful.” She shut the door, a grin spreading slowly across her beak. “You know how many times anyone in the royal family has been down below the ash?” She didn’t wait for me to have a chance to answer. “Never! I actually did something Velar and Starlight couldn’t! Take that!”
“I’m sure they’ll be very proud,” I said, slumping to the floor and shoving off my pack. Not much had survived our adventure together, though I now had a mask and goggles that I’d never let leave my sight while we were over the ash. “Though I’ll admit, I’m… eager to conclude my interviews here in Accipio. I think I’m about done with adventures like that.”
“Not before you learn how to fly,” Dawn said sternly, glowering at me. “And didn’t you want to talk to a few more birds? You can’t be done already!”
Even smeared in ash and dirt, even smelling like she hadn’t bathed in days, Dawn was still the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen. Moreso really. She’d done things that would’ve chewed up most ponies and spit them back out, and she was excited.
And now I’m stuck in a small space with her for the rest of the flight. Emperor Velar is going to kill me.
“I did want to talk to your mother,” I admitted, focusing on work. Anything I could use to keep from thinking about the creature I was with. “And maybe an administrator. Somepony who would know how you managed to keep everyone fed. That’s the kind of thing that historians want to know, the boring questions that nopony really…”
Dawn was suddenly inches away from me. I looked up, meeting her eyes. She reached out suddenly, resting a claw on my shoulder. “How long are you going to pretend you don’t like me?”
“I…” I stumbled back, or I tried. She wouldn’t let me look away. I couldn’t hide it, anyway. We’d been together for long enough that I was sure she’d be able to tell my scents apart. Griffons could all do it, and she was close enough. “Long enough that I don’t start an international incident, I hope,” I answered. “You’re kinda the heir to the—”
I don’t know what I would’ve said after that, because she didn’t give me the chance. I’d never kissed a creature with a beak before. It didn’t get in the way as much as I would’ve thought it might.
“No creature will think you’re trying to steal the throne,” she said, when we broke apart. I no longer wanted to, but I don’t think I was thinking straight at that point. “I probably won’t get it. I only inherit if my mom doesn’t have any sons, and they’re trying very hard.”
It was a good thing Princess Twilight couldn’t see in here, because I could imagine the checklist of rules I was breaking for a “royal representative.” I would be adding a few more items to her list by saying anything to that. “I thought the Republic was… better than that. Why shouldn’t you be the emperor? I thought it went to the oldest.”
“The oldest male.” She turned away, wandering over to the captain’s windows. They were facing the sky, but even so. She pulled them shut one after another, lighting the chamber in rows of uneven bars. The uneven lighting only made her look better, revealing little bits of her at a time as she crossed the room again. “It’s the way things are, Contrail, you can’t change them. And it has its advantages.”
She kissed me again, and whatever nervousness I might’ve had about being together with her faded. I hadn’t been with a mare since my undergraduate years—certainly nothing like her. A little voice in the back of my mind went from calmly telling me it was time to stop to screaming into my head—then it went quiet.
I don’t know how long we were together. Dawn had the endurance of an earth pony, and the flexibility of a pegasus. But whatever incompatibilities I might’ve had with a griffon were no issue with a hippogriff. We were basically the same species.
Needless to say, I didn’t put anything we did into my journal.
The next morning, we took turns with the ship’s only shower, using the cool water and harsh soap to scrub away the smells of travel. And… some of the other ones. It hadn’t worked—the cook winked at me when he served me the morning’s fish and grain, and added an extra scoop of wheat. “You’ll need it.”
“I hope you meant what you said about this being okay,” I said, once we were alone in the captain’s quarters with our trays of breakfast. “I wouldn’t want to survive an… undead dragon attack, cross the underworld, only to…” I looked away. “Get dueled to the death by the emperor of the Republic because I, uh…”
She settled one claw on my hoof, silencing me. “Velar has been offering me to noble birds for half my life, Contrail. That’s how it works—all the important birds usually arrange their marriages before they’re out of diapers. But they all know they probably won’t get the crown. It’s not worth the disgrace of being with a…” She sniffed, pulling her claw away.
I caught her with my wing before she could leave. “Being with the most beautiful bird in Accipio? They don’t know what they’re missing.”