//------------------------------// // Chapter 25 // Story: The Dusk Guard Saga: Hunter/Hunted // by Viking ZX //------------------------------// “Is it just me, or is the storm finally letting up?” Hunter looked away from the controls, eyes falling on Nova as the young unicorn pushed himself up, one hoof moving to rub at his eyes and rapping into his visor. “No,” Hunter said, letting out a slight chuckle as Nova’s still-weary eyes widened against the sudden impact. “It’s not just you. It has gotten a bit better out there. How was the nap?” “Enough to remind me I’m still tired, but enough for me to be awake, apparently,” Nova said, pulling at his helmet before rolling his eyes and using his magic to undo the straps. “How long was I out?” “About three hours. Enough for a single sleep cycle, I think?” “Dawn would know,” Nova said, yawning as he pulled his helmet off. “She would.” “Anything interesting happen?” “After you passed out?” Hunter shook his head. “Nothing but the storm.” “What about the city?” “Same every time I’ve looked,” Hunter said, bringing his eyes back to the view outside The Hummingbird’s cockpit. He could see more of the mountains now, and the clouds that had boiled beneath them for so many hours had finally quieted down, the fury of the storm burning itself out. The heavy winds had calmed as well … though they hadn’t faded entirely. “The storm in that direction doesn’t seem to be letting up, either.” “Really?” Nova asked, pushing himself up from the bunk and sitting back on his haunches. “What’s that mean for us?” “Unfortunately, nothing good,” Hunter said, sitting back in the pilot’s seat. At least this seat is comfy. “The weather’s clearing up beneath us all right, but give it a couple of hours, maybe a day, and it’ll be right back to being crook again as that storm bleeds out on us.” “So … we’re getting a window of good weather, and then it’s going to be back to being rotten?” Hunter nodded. “You got it.” “Great.” “Yeah. We went into the wrong line of work to take it easy, didn’t we?” Nova let out a short laugh. “You did maybe. I didn’t have much of a choice.” Hunter paused for a minute, pulling his eyes away from the instrument readouts and sparing a quick glance at Nova. “That’s right,” he said. “Sorry, slipped my mind for a minute there. Probably not what you expected when we found you in that jail cell in Appleloosa.” “No,” Nova said quickly, shaking his head. “Not even close. Not just …” He nodded toward the control board. “This, but the whole ‘Guard’ thing.” He let out another curt laugh. “I figured you guys were there to haul me off to some prison someplace, or maybe to match the topiary in Celestia’s Garden.” Hunter pulled his head back. “Stone? For thieving? Seems a little over-the-top, don’t you think?” Nova shrugged. “I didn’t say it was high on my list. Just that I’d thought about it. Now?” He shook his head and let out another laugh. “I can’t imagine either of the Princesses doing something like that without really good reason. Discord-level reason.” “Thankfully,” Hunter added quickly, turning his eyes back to the storm. “Right,” Nova said. “But even then, sitting in that cell waiting for somepony to show up and haul me off, I didn’t see … this … happening. Work-farms for the rest of my life, maybe, but this?” He let out another laugh. “Get Princess Celestia’s student to send me back in time, and I wouldn’t believe it from my own mouth.” His ears perked. “Really?” Hunter asked, turning to look at Nova. “You’re telling me if your own self showed up from the future, chinwagging about how in the future you’d be in the Guard, you’d think he was starkers?” For a moment Nova was silent, head sidling back and forth as he weighed out Hunter’s question. “Yeah, I think so. Give me some leeway though, I was a thief. Joining the Guard?” He let out another laugh. “Yeah, I’d think I was starkers. I mean, what would you have said had some you claiming to be from the future popped up and said you’d be doing this one day?” “Me?” Hunter shook his head and sat back once more. What would I have done? A glance down at the armor he was wearing was all he needed. “I’d have told myself I was out of my feathered gourd, that’s what.” Nova let out another laugh. “Right, you see? I’m not the only one who’d think it was crazy.” “Well, I wouldn’t say starkers,” Hunter added quickly, leaning forward once more and shooting Nova a look. “But at the same time, I had it pretty good in the Rangers. Sure, I never got to drive an airship, but past me? I wouldn’t …” He paused, words sticking in his throat for a moment as his mind jumped back. “Feathers. I wouldn’t even know what to tell him.” “What?” For a moment Nova looked confused, but then Hunter saw the recognition in his eyes. “Oh sun above, Hunter. I didn’t—” He shook his head. “It’s fine. You didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just … Tartarus. How could I tell him?” He sank back, limbs suddenly weak and dropping to the rests on either side of the chair. A familiar pang cut through the inside of his chest, still fresh from the anniversary just a few days ago. “I wouldn’t know where to start.” “Would you …?” Nova’s voice trailed off, and he looked over at him. “Would I what?” “Would you try to change it?” Nova asked. “If you could? Sorry, I wasn’t going to ask, cause it’s kind of delicate, but … would you?” “I …” He sat still for a moment before shaking his head. “I don’t know if I could. I mean, you can’t change the past, right? Not that we know of. Maybe I’d just try and tell her how I felt, just so she’d know. Or maybe I’d try and change things, but what if they did? Change, I mean,” he added quickly. “Maybe I’d never be on the Dusk Guard. Maybe somepony else would have taken my place. Maybe they wouldn’t have figured out what the Tam sisters were up to until it was too late. Maybe Equestria would be in a bloody civil war right now.” He shook his head. “I don’t know. Could I change it? Maybe? Maybe not? Maybe I wouldn’t be able to help myself from changing it. Who knows how many differences that could bring.” His hoof went to his head, only to pause when it met his mane, his customary Stetson still hanging in his locker. “Maybe I’d doom us all.” He went quiet. “So … you’d believe yourself,” Nova said after a few moments. “Even the bad stuff.” “I think I would, yeah,” he said, taking a deep breath. “Then again, maybe that’d change things for the better. Maybe I’d save Swift’s life and tell myself to join the Dusk Guard anyway. See if I couldn’t have the best of both worlds. But then … who knows what that would change? Maybe it’s a good thing we can’t mess with time. I can’t think of anything but madness coming out of it. You’d change one thing to try and fix something, but that’d change everything else, and before you knew it, you’d be trying to square a circle over and over again, and probably making things worse along the way.” He shook his head again. “Sorry, Nova. I know you didn’t mean for your question to get so deep, I just …” He let out a quick sign. “It got me thinking.” “Yeah, well I didn’t mean to bring up …” Nova’s voice faltered. “Well, you know.” “You can say her name, Nova. I’m not going to crack a fruity. The past is in the past, and I need to live with it. The Creator’s let me have that much.” There was a heavy thunk as his hooves disengaged the autopilot, The Hummingbird bobbing against the wind in response. “But assuming I couldn’t try to change the past, or I went back even further, my past self would be pretty shocked to hear how things ended up, I think. Leave the Rangers? Join the Guard?” He tapped the throttle, the pitch from the propellers lifting as the airship began to move through the sky, leaving its stationary vigil at last. “I think I’d be halfway between believing it and thinking my future self was a shonky liar making a beat up out of something. Or trying to pull a wing down over my eyes.” “Probably a good reason we don’t get to see the future,” Nova added, nodding. “Short of hints, prophecy and all that. If we knew the specifics, we’d probably mess it up.” “Agreed,” Hunter said, shifting the control yokes and putting The Hummingbird into a slow, gentle turn toward one of the distant peaks. “But getting back on track … No, I don’t think I’d have believed myself. Not without a long, lengthy explanation. After all, I was a Ranger. The Guard were slow ponies who kept the peace in cities or stood around watching stuff. They never did anything. Rangers got to do the exciting stuff.” “We brought down a building.” “Right, well … That was before we were around, you know. I mean, maybe I could have convinced my past self we were more like the Wonderbolts, but even they’re more for show than anything useful.” “Ouch,” Nova said in mock pain. “Don’t let them hear you say that.” “What are they going to do?” Hunter asked, grinning as a faint sense of elation swept through him, brushing aside the pang from earlier. “Kick our flanks? I’d like to see them try.” “You think you can outfly any of them?” “Hey, I’m good, but I’m not that good. On the other side of things, though, flying is all they do. You and me?” He grinned. “We’ve got a lot more than that on our side. They take on any of us, they’d better bring the rest of the Guard. They’ll need the help.” “And the medics.” “Exactly.” Hunter eased the throttle back slightly, a faint feeling of drag rolling over him as the airship slowed. “We’d kick their flanks to the moon and back. They may be stunt fliers, but when it comes to fighting, we’re spot on. That’s why we’re out here in the cold hunting a shade while they’re back home.” “So … they win?” Nova asked. Hunter glanced at him, taking in the look of mock seriousness on his face. “Sure, until they try to brag at the next grand galloping gala about their jobs.” “Oooh, nice spin. I like it.” Nova nodded, then pointed out the window. “So … we moving to catch up?” “Sort of.” Hunter adjusted the sticks again, shifting The Hummingbird’s course by a few inches and eyeing the compass. “With the storm clearing up, we might be able to catch sight of something from the air if we’re lucky. Can’t hurt to try. If nothing else, it’ll be less snow we’ll have to walk through.” “I’m all for that,” Nova said, nodding. “Stuff’s exhausting. Even with the armor.” “It is.” Conversation died for a moment, Hunter focusing on the controls as he guided the aircraft over the breaking storm. Here and there the rolling clouds had finally broken apart, exposing brief glimpses of the ground below … not that there was much to pick out. The white surface was almost the same shade as the clouds that had made it so. A few times he even mistook the ground for simply lower clouds, eyes only picking up the difference when the newly-dropped snow sparkled under a ray of light. Thankfully, it’d get easier as more of the storm broke up, so he wouldn’t have to worry about plowing the airship into it, but it was still a bit jarring to be caught so off-guard. “Hey Hunter?” It took him a moment to respond to Nova’s question, his eyes still fixed on the controls, double-checking to make sure nothing was out of line. The Hummingbird wasn’t all that difficult to keep track of, at least, not from what he’d been taught. At the same time, I’m flying something that weighs who knows how many tons above a breaking storm, with another storm at my back. It pays to double check. His last glance at their course noted against the maps, he turned toward Nova. “What do you need?” “Uh, nothing,” Nova replied. “I just had a question.” Hunter paused. Then why didn’t he just ask? Which probably meant that the question was important, personal, or both. “All right. Go ahead.” “You’re from Equestria, right?” Oh. He couldn’t help but grin slightly. This question. “Spot on.” “Yeah, that!” Nova said quickly as the words slipped free of Hunter’s mouth. “If you’re from Equestria, why do you talk like you’re from …?” He paused, flicking one hoof idly while his mouth opened and closed. “It’s still part of the Griffon Empire,” Hunter said. “Southeast colonies.” “So you’ve been there?” Nova asked quickly. “Lived there?” “You want to know why I talk like a bruce from the back corner?” He was definitely grinning now, unable to hold it back. “Can you keep a secret?” “Who am I and who do I work for?” “Fair dinkum.” He bent down and engaged the autopilot, the lever sliding forward with a satisfying clunk. “Well, you’re right. It’s from the southeast colonies. The lower corner. Edge of the world, as some used to call it, not that it’s anything close, with Saddle Arabia right next door, but … Dinkum? I’ve never been there.” “You what?” Hunter let out a laugh at Nova’s shocked expression. “Never been, Nova. No hoof, no feather, nothing. Only ever seen the place in pictures. Never even been to the Griffon Empire. Or the Plainslands.” “Then …” Nova pulled back slightly. “It’s all an act?” “Act?” He shook his head, taking advantage of the motion to peer down through a nearby cloud opening, catching sight of snow-crusted trees through the breakage. “No, it’s me. I’m not trying to beat it all up, this is me. Straight dinkum.” “Were your parents from there?” He laughed again. “Good thinking, but no. Close though. My mentor.” Nova nodded, but said nothing, so he continued. “See, back when I got my cutie-mark, I lived in Cloudsdale. Naturally, once I got it, I and my parents wanted to make sure I could make the most of it. Public education just wasn’t going to cut it. So, after some deliberation, my parents pulled me out of school and put me into an apprenticeship with a search and rescue team. And the pony I got assigned to?” He could still picture the gruff pegasus. “A tracker and weatherpony named Hawkwing from—” “From the empire?” Nova cut in. He nodded. “Spot on. Gruff, tough, old … and dang good at what he did. So me being a young, impressionable colt, I wanted to be just like him.” He let out a short laugh, smiling as stallion’s gruff face floated across his mind, a good-natured scowl almost permanently plastered on his muzzle. “Good old Hawkwing. Loved him like a father, almost. He was a bit like Steel: Gruff, a little weary. Tough. Had a wicked scar across one flank from a close-call with some sort of desert scorpion out on that side of the empire.” “Anyway,” he said, the memory fading as he turned back to the controls. “I wanted to be just like him, and so I did what I could to learn everything I could from him. Including how he talked. I didn’t take the gruffness though—I tried, but it just didn’t stick. But then, after he’d passed on, I had a few other trackers I apprenticed under, picking up new skills, and then I ended up spending a summer with a friend of his, a griffon who’d come out to see what I’d learned from his old buddy. He was rapped to meet me, I was rapped to meet him … and the accent was even thicker. He was a lot more like me, though. Relaxed, affable, handsome—” Nova let out a snort. “Yeah, old Barkbeak—” Nova’s snort exploded into a full-on laugh, and Hunter shot the unicorn a quick glance. “Barkbeak?” Nova asked. “Was that a nickname, or …?” “Real name, true dinkum. Barkbeak Grayden. Anyway, he ‘took me under his wing,’ so to speak, and helped me finish off my apprenticeship, then went home. But between him and Hawkwing …” He flicked his ears and gave Nova another grin. “The accent stuck. I like it. It’s me. Sure, I’ll bet I’d sound half-starkers to ponies actually living in the back corner, but I’m not from the back corner. I just had teachers that were, and wanted to be just like them.” “And now you know,” he said, leaning forward and checking their heading once more. The clouds beneath them were really starting to break up now, having spent most of their frozen fury. “But seriously, keep it under wraps. There are still a few stories running through the new crops of Ranger cadets about how I ended up with my particular patois I’d really rather not drop truth to.” “Huh.” Ahead of them, another clump of clouds broke apart, exposing more of the snow-swept mountainside, treetops and bits of rock here and there stubbornly poking through the fresh snow like stubble on a grizzled lumberjack’s muzzle after a shave. Hunter’s eyes could just make out fresh drifts of snow sweeping past the holdouts, frenzied bits of the storm that still hadn’t given in. “Sky Bolt still asleep?” Nova asked, pulling himself up and stretching. “Yeah, she is.” Hunter gave the closed door to the rest of the cabin a quick nod. “She was snoring a bit too.” “You think Sabra minds?” “I think I’m not at liberty to talk about fraternization of that level between teammates,” Hunter said quickly, pulling his eyes away from the breaking clouds for a moment to glance at Nova. “Though if there was anything of that level going on—” Nova cut him off, holding up his hooves. “Not what I meant. Sorry.” “Oh.” He brought his attention back fully to the sky ahead. A late bolt of lightning, the first he’d seen in nearly an hour and not nearly as powerful as those that had come before it, cut across the clouds, a faint rumble echoing in its wake. “Yeah, I was … Sorry, not what I meant. That came out wrong. I apologize. They’re a cute couple, even if they’re both kind of shy about it.” “Like you and that musician mare?” Hunter shot Nova a quick grin. “What’s her name again? Vinyl Sc—” “We’re just friends, Hunter,” Nova said quickly, his voice flat. “Which I know I’ve told you at least twice.” “Right. Friends.” “Do I have to booby-trap your desk again?” “You’d booby-trap the desk of a superior officer?” Hunter shook his head, still grinning. “I think that’s against regulations.” “You’d never be able to prove it was me.” “You just threatened to do it.” “Did I?” Nova offered an innocent smile. “I don’t remember that. I feel like you’re picking on the poor, reforming thief here.” “You’re starkers.” “You started it.” Hunter opened his mouth but then snapped it shut again. “Fair enough, I suppose. So what is the deal with you and Vinyl anyway?” Ahead of them the clouds were so thin he could almost see through them to the ground, and he settled his hooves on the controls. We might be able to drop under this storm in a moment. “Eh.” Nova shrugged. “Not much you don’t already know. I robbed her back in the day. She recognized my voice, knew I was in the Guard now, and had gotten the notes from the court that I’d been caught and was working off my debt. She just wanted to know what the story was, really. We’ve hung out a few times since then, chatted and whatnot. But no, I’m not interested in her like that. She’s just … someone to talk with. Something almost normal, you know? Like you guys.” “We’re not very normal, Nova.” “More normal that most of what I’ve had before this.” Nova’s tone was quiet, almost contrite. “But no, in all seriousness, I don’t see her that way.” “Huh.” He checked the clouds once more, than eased his hoof back. A little longer. “And what about her?” “What?” “Does she see you that way?” Nova frowned. “Sun and moon, I hope not. I don’t think so. If so, she’s been pretty coy about it. But I hope not. Getting that thrown at me is the last thing I want right now.” “Really?” “I’ve got my reasons,” Nova said, holding up a hoof. “For starters, I’m still getting used to being a law-abiding pony. Romance on top of that would just be too much to try and cram in. And I’ve never had a relationship before—not anything serious or remotely real, anyway. In my experience, rumors and stories of debonair, romantic thieves are just that: Stories. Plus with how busy we are?” He shook his head. “No thanks. I mean, if it strikes me out of the sky or whatever like it does seem to some ponies, then yeah, I guess. But right now?” He shook his head again. “Too much going on.” “I can see that,” Hunter said, giving Nova a nod. “We are really busy. Between the training, and the planning—” “And the training again,” Nova added. “Right,” Hunter said with a laugh. “And with all that, we’re still realizing how far we have to go now that we’re out here. Plus our regular Guard duties. Believe me, I know how busy we can get.” “Well, that, and I’m committed,” Nova said, shrugging. “You or Steel? Sabra and Sky Bolt? Even Dawn? All of you can go do any other job any time you want. Bolt would have places lining up begging to hire her even if she didn’t have enough bits now to just go build her own workshop. Sabra’s a legend-in-the-making among the monks or something like that. I guess Dawn was retired before she came here, but that law is on the way out. Basically, all of you can have another life. Me?” He shook his head. “For better or worse, this is my life now. Until I’ve paid off my debt.” What do I say to that? Hunter thought as Nova shrugged again, eyes focused off into the distance. Worse, he’s right. “Do you … regret becoming a Dusk Guard?” he asked carefully, his attention fully divested from the airship’s controls. “What?” Nova snapped upright, focus coming back as his eyes locked with Hunter’s. “Sun above, no! I mean …” He sank back slightly, his tightly-held frame relaxing slightly. “Honestly it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. It’s just …” His mouth opened and closed before recognition rushed across his face. “What I’m saying is that if and when I do decide I have time for romance, this—” He motioned to himself with a hoof. “Is what that special somepony will have to be all right with. I’m a Specialist Private in the Guard, and that’s the only thing I can be until I’ve paid off my debts. I’ve accepted that, and like I said, it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. But if I found a special someone, she’d have to accept it too.” Hunter nodded, briefly glancing at their heading before turning his full attention back to Nova. “I understand. You’re locked.” Nova nodded in agreement. “Yeah. My choices put me here. Don’t get me wrong, I’m fine with that. But somepony else? They’d have to be as well.” “You want my advice?” “Sure.” “All right.” He checked the autopilot, then leaned back and gave Nova his full focus. “That’s how a relationship works. Them being okay with it, I mean. Personally, I wouldn’t worry about it, or you’ll just raise a big noise for nothing. Just … be the best you you can be. In the end, I think that matters more than how much you make or whether or not you can jump jobs. And if it doesn’t, well … maybe that mare wasn’t for you.” He sat back, letting his attention slide back to the open skies. “And if that doesn’t work, date a griffon. They’re all about soldiering.” “Oh ha ha.” Nova sank back even further against the heating vent, hing legs poking up slightly as he slouched. “But the rest of it is good advice. Thanks.” “Not looking to date a griffon, huh?” “Never thought about it,” Nova replied, resting his forehooves behind his head. “But seeing as I’ve only ever met a few, and one of those was your friend Blade …” “Okay.” Hunter leaned to the side, toward Nova, resting his weight on the left armrest. “Blade is a wandering claw. She’s not exactly an ordinary example.” “Still,” Nova said. “I’ve never thought about it, but I wouldn’t exactly call her ‘my type.’” “Well, what would be?” “No idea,” Nova said, the plates of his armor scraping against one another as he shrugged again. “But it isn’t Vinyl, lieutenant. Sorry to get your hopes up. Still …” Nova shifted slightly, sliding down on the bunk. “Thanks. That was good advice.” “I’m a lieutenant, Nova. Advice is part of the job.” He pushed himself up from the chair arm, hooves going back to the controls and eyes to the world outside the cockpit. Storm’s almost cleared, he thought as he caught sight of even more of the mountainside. We should be good to drop now. Snow was sweeping around below them, but the dance was less violent, less aggressive. Of course, it’ll be a whole different story once we’re in it. He reached out and took the controls in hoof, setting The Hummingbird to a gradual, slow descent down toward now broken storm. Bring us close in, let Nova and I take a good look at things, and … He found his eyes pulling away from the mountain beneath them, toward the distant northern horizon, across the open peaks. Somewhere past them lay The Ocean of Endless Ice. Blade was up there somewhere. I hope she’s safe, he thought as the distant mountains began to slip out of sight, concealed by their closer siblings. Not much is slipping past the border these days, not since she blasted through it, but the rumors aren’t great. Pirates, unicorn cults, and … Hey, wait a minute … “Thinking about Blade?” Nova asked, the unicorn’s eyes following Hunter’s gaze to the north. “I was,” he admitted. “Until I connected something else. You heard about the trouble they’re having up in the Ocean?” Nova shook his head. “A little, but not much.” “The papers don’t care much about it,” Hunter said, watching as the distant horizon shrank completely out of view. “But I’ve been doing some digging. Listening to the bush chinwag, keeping my ears close to the ground, speaking to a few border guards. And they’ve got this cult up there, made up of unicorns. Unicorn supremacists.” “Okay. With you so far.” “You know what they call themselves?” Nova shook his head. “No.” “‘The Order of the Red Horn.’ Sound familiar?” Nova’s mouth opened as if to reply, but then he paused, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Wait a minute,” he said after a few seconds. “Isn’t that what the crystal ponies called Sombra’s supporters at the city?” Hunter nodded. “Yeah. Order of the Red Horn. ‘The Order’ for short. I wonder if it’s related?” “Could be,” Nova said. “I mean, sure, the place got torn out of time, but it was during a battle right? And the edges of the city were pretty close. Plus, didn’t the crystal ponies say something about the army being outside the city mostly when it happened?” “You thinking stragglers made their way north and kept operating?” “It’s possible,” Nova said. “Or their attitudes. Maybe not them personally, but their ideals. Another group of speciesists picks it up and adopts the name, something like that.” “Or it could be entirely a coincidence,” he continued as Hunter finally pulled his eyes away, focusing back down on the mountainside. “I mean ‘Order’ isn’t exactly a word you can lay claim to. ‘Red horn’ wouldn’t be that original either with the right crowd.” “It’d be a real sus of a coincidence,” Hunter said as the bottom of The Hummingbird began to slip into the clouds. “But it’s not impossible. It does raise one question though. If they are related, why haven’t we seen any of them around? You’d think they’d be as interested in the city coming back as we are.” “Maybe they don’t know about it,” Nova said. “I mean, we only had advance warning because of the Princesses, and even they didn’t know when it was going to happen.” “Wouldn’t they have noticed a bunch of Guard mobilizing?” Hunter countered as The Hummingbird dropped completely into the scattered clouds. “Assuming they had spies in Equestria, that is.” “Would they?” Hunter shrugged as the world outside the cockpit flickered, the clouds the airship was slipping through sliding from wispy to thick and back again with seemingly random timing. “I mean, there’s that whole ‘Violet Heart’ thing going on. Bet you a hundred bits they know we’re up to something. They might already know about the Crystal Empire and Mr. Shady Sombra here, the way that group seems to acquire information.” “Fair point. Have the rest of the Guard found anypony yet?” He shook his head. “They’ve questioned a few ponies here and there, but nothing solid. The few that were genuinely passing on information didn’t know to who or why. Some didn’t even seem to realize that they were dobbing in on something. Everything the Violet Heart seems to do is divided up into little groups and overlapping streams of information like … like …” He shook his head as the clouds around the cockpit finally receded in full, exposing a steep mountainside coated in fresh snow. A flash of movement caught his eyes, and he glanced down just in time to see something slip under some snow-covered trees. “You see that?” he asked, leaning forward. “What?” Nova shoved himself away from the vent, bending over the edge of the bunk to look down. “There.” Hunter pointed with one hoof. “That cluster of trees. Something moved.” “I didn’t. Sombra?” “I don’t know,” he said, sitting up and turning the controls slightly to the side. The Hummingbird went into a lazy turn. “I just caught the movement. Brief flash. Could be him, though we’re pretty far west for that. The glacier is still that way.” He nodded in the direction of the distant ice-mass, discernible even through the thick new coat of snow like a crawling scar on the landscape. “On the other hoof,” he said as The Hummingbird dropped lower, quivering slightly as it passed by a pair of crosswinds. “It could just be something else. Stray timberwolf, maybe. Rare, but possible anywhere there’s enough stray magic and trees. Iceworm, though that’s unlikely. Or even just wind moving a branch just right …” They were close enough now, only a few-hundred feet from the ground, and he eased the controls back. “There,” he said, pointing with one hoof. “Tracks. Bipedal.” He could see the twin lines of staggered prints moving through the fresh snow, cutting across the ground from somewhere behind them. “Not our guy, then?” He shook his head. “No, not with a bipedal gait. Yeti, I’d guess. Probably got cut off from its pack during the swarm and hiding from the sound of our propellers.” He sat back up and gently eased the controls back, airship slowly tilting as they turned away from the small cluster of trees. “Best of luck to it. Anyway, Violet Heart.” The Hummingbird settled, leveling under his careful touch and heading for the glacier. “They’ve set up a pretty carefully connected web. Or maybe web isn’t the right word, it’s almost like … veins. Lots of small ponies not realizing that they’re feeding information to a greater whole. Put it all together and …” He shrugged. “The Guard are trying, but most of the time it seems like they’re just circling one another. Been kind of a sore spot for some of them too.” He glanced down at Nova. “You used to be on the streets. You hear anything?” “About the Heart?” Nova shrugged. “Nothing outside of rumor. I know there are places with individuals you can talk to about getting information, but since I’m a member of the Guard now, they’re not telling me without coercion. And since we’ve been so busy training …” His voice trailed off. “I get it. It’s not our mission anyway,” Hunter said, eyeing a small crag of rock below them as wind whistled around it. “I was just curious.” “Well,” Nova said, pushing himself up from the bunk, his hooves dropping to the cockpit glass. “If I do hear anything substantial, I’ll let you know.” He paused, then pointed at the hatch. “Can I get past? I’m feeling a bit hungry, and the sight of all that snow is reminding me I should eat something solid before I’m down trotting around in it.” “No worries.” Hunter pulled his hooves from the controls and leaned back, letting him pass by. “Grab me something too, if you would.” Nova nodded and opened the hatch, stepping out and leaving Hunter alone in the cockpit. From the cabin there was a faint but audible yawn, so high-pitched it was almost a squeak … and then the sound of somepony blowing air through their lips. “Nova?” Sky Bolt’s voice echoed around the door. “How long have I been asleep?” “Beats me,” Hunter heard Nova reply. “I just woke up a little bit ago. Got hungry.” “Ooh,” Bolt replied. “Food. That sounds perfect. Toss me something, will you?” Hunter mostly tuned out their voices as the pair began to banter, arguing over what sort of favor one would owe the other in exchange for the unexpected butlerage. Normal conversation for both of them, as far as he could tell. Still, he kept one ear cocked as he guided the airship forward, just in case one of them said something out of place. The Hummingbird kept up its slow, steady pace, its airspeed a bare few knots against the wind. For a minute he considered increasing the throttle, but then he shook his head. No point, he thought, eyeing the distant ground. There’s always a chance Sombra used the cover of that storm to double back. The faster I go, the higher chance I have of missing something. He pulled his eyes away from the snow beneath the airship, checking the path ahead and then ever so slightly adjusting The Hummingbird’s altitude, bringing them slightly closer to the ground. Too close and you might miss something, too far away and you might not see a detail. He let out a half-hearted sigh. The age-old search and rescue problem. Which usually was solved by simply having lots of eyes on station. But when you’re a team of three with a single airship … Well, you work with what you have, and hope it’s not too shonky. Especially when you’re searching a fresh snowfall. On the plus side, if Sombra did make any movements, he’d leave an easy-to-follow trail across the fresh, pristine surface of the snow. Assuming he hadn’t figured out how to hide the channel his passage left. And assuming they spotted the depression from above in the first place. But if he’d already made movements, the snowfall dumped by the storm would have as effectively hidden his trail as … Well, pretty much anything that wipes the slate clean, Hunter thought, his mind failing to find a good comparison. Still, there was no sense in charging around blind. He let his eyes stop on a small clump of rocks poking through the packed snow, picking out details and double-checking to make sure there were no signs of the telltale black crystal growths their quarry seemed to like so much. He found nothing. Just weathered grey stone, battered but resolute against the weather’s near-ceaseless fury. He moved on. “Hungry?” Nova stepped over the hatch to the rear cabin, an apple held in the yellow glow of his magic. “Sure.” He reached out and took it, Nova’s magikinetic field vanishing. “Enjoy it,” Nova said as he took his first bite, the crunch sounding across the cockpit as sweet juices spilled across his tongue. “We’re on the last of our stock.” “Really?” he asked, pushing the words past the apple in his mouth. “We’re out?” “Of apples. That’s one of the last ones.” He swallowed slowly and gave the apple a regretful look. “I’ll miss it when it’s gone then. I’d better chew slowly.” He took another careful bite—small rather than the large one his gut wanted him to take—and checked the ground along their route once more. Nothing. “Do we have anything else fresh left?” he asked. “A few things. Long-term foods, mostly. Potatoes. Onions.” He made a face. “Ugh, pass.” “Yeah, I figured that was why there were more onions left than anything else.” “Thinking of making breakfast?” he asked, swallowing again and pausing to lick some of the juice off the apple’s skin. His hoof already felt sticky. “Yeah. Any suggestions?” “We’ve still got cheese, right? And eggs?” “Omelette?” “Perfect for using up whatever scrap veggies we’ve got left. We won’t reach the glacier for another half hour, so—” Another satisfying crunch echoed through the cockpit as he took another bite, his stomach doing happy flips. “Might as well get a solid meal in. Unless something comes up, we’ll have the time.” “You don’t think he doubled back?” Sky Bolt’s voice broke into the conversation, the mare herself following, brushing against Nova as she half-stepped into the cockpit. Nova’s nose, Hunter noticed, wrinkled slightly. “At the moment, I’m not seeing any signs of it,” he said slowly, flaring his nostrils slightly and giving the air a slow, subtle sniff. Yup, there it is. A slight sour undercurrent to the sweet scent of the apple, vaguely drifting from Bolt’s direction. Great. Now how do I bring this up? “If we get to where you last spotted him and find nothing, we’ll expand our search east of that for about a mile, maybe. But if we don’t find any sign of him, we’ll head back toward the city at full speed and see if he didn’t slip past us.” Bolt nodded, her eyes already on the controls. “Ready for me to take back over?” An opening. He’d have to take it. “Actually, no,” he said, moving to set the apple on the control panel and only catching himself when he saw the slight narrowing of Bolt’s pupils. Right. Juice. Wood. Stains. He pulled the hoof back, and Bolt relaxed. “I can handle piloting The Hummingbird for a little while longer. Get some food, stretch your wings, maybe—” “Ooh!” Bolt’s head jerked up even as her wings snapped out, catching Nova in the side and shoving him against the hatch. Immediately she jerked them back in, a guilty look on her face. “Sorry,” she said. Nova rolled his eyes. “You break your armor, you’re the one fixing it,” he said, stepping back. “I’m going to get started on breakfast, then. Give my magic a workout.” He ducked out of sight, and a moment later there was a rattle from the rear cabin as he went to work. “Right,” Sky Bolt said, an embarrassed grin on her face. “Well, if you want to keep flying her for a bit, that’ll give me time to go to some checks on the boilers and gearage. Make sure everything’s running smooth.” “Right, that’s a good idea,” Hunter said, nodding. “You could probably freshen up, too.” Bolt’s bubbly expression stumbled slightly. “That bad, huh? I saw you sniff the air. Is it that bad?” “Well …” He took another quick bite of his apple. “We’ve all been busy, and you’ve been providing skywatch and flying us around, so you’ve been busiest of all, with missing sleep and all—” “How. Bad?” Bolt’s face was serious now. “When was the last time you showered?” “Uh … I want to say three, maybe four days?” “Well … better than I’d probably smell after that long, but …” Sky Bolt nodded and brought a hoof up to rub at her forehead. “Right, right. Okay, I’ll go check the boilers and make sure everything’s running smooth, then I’ll get a shower in. Thanks.” She pulled her hoof away and stared at it in surprise, as if shocked by how greasy her coat was. And not the kind of grease that was normally in it. “Think Nova knows that cleaning spell Dawn uses on our suits?” “Maybe?” He glanced at the sleeve of his own suit and the apple juice staining the rubbery material. “If he does, I should ask him about it. He and I are probably a bit ripe ourselves.” He gave the snow beneath them another quick look. Nothing but snow-covered slopes. Great for skiing … but that’s not what our quarry’s looking for. “I’ll ask,” Bolt said, shaking her head and giving her mane a quick toss. “Then I’ll check the boilers, and then yes, I’ll get a shower in. You’re right: I could use it. And it would feel great. With your leave, lieutenant?” She gave him a salute that was, if sloppy and tired, at least with the right hoof, and he returned it. Then she ducked out of sight, and he brought his attention back to the ground ahead of them. They were passing over another small copse of trees, the branches stiff and heavy with ice and snow. Glimmers of light sparkled up at him as they passed, a brief picturesque moment after the shadow of the storm. Actually, all of this looks pretty nice, he thought, gazing out over the mountainside. Really nice. It wasn’t quite the same as the Whitetail Woods, or even the Everfree, but there was a rugged, desolate beauty that echoed across the harsh slopes. I can see why they called these the Crystal Mountains, he thought as more of the fresh snows sparkled beneath him in the sun. Storms, if it wasn’t for our job, this could almost be a scenic cruise. He pulled his eyes away from the snowy slopes moving up the side of the mountain, to where the angle grew so steep it would have taken climbing gear to ascend it without wings, past the still-somewhat-there clouds, right to the distant peak. Poking up into the sky like a marker, he thought. From there, he moved his gaze east … down into the bowl between the peaks that was the start of the Glacier of Woe. A massive field of slowly compacting snow, pressed down over decades into pure ice. Ice that was slowly grinding its way out of a gap in the mountains, shoved onward by tens of thousands of tons of snow coming down behind it until it made its way down the mountain like a snake, carving a slow, gradual path to Lake Nieghagara. What’s so interesting about the glacier? he wondered as he brought his attention back to the mountainside beneath them, checking for any signs of Sombra. Why come back to it? Is there something to it other than where we found him? He leaned back against the seat, taking another bite of his apple and chewing slowly. It was almost gone. Why come back? Why not bolt right for the city? Are you looking for something? Running away? What? Does it have something to do with the glacier itself? Those stories of it? Or is it just along your way to something else? Even one answer would be nice, he thought, eyeing the core of the apple and then biting down, finishing it off with a quick gulp. The glacier itself was much closer now, faint details becoming apparent in its surface, more than just the endless bluish-white of the— Wait a minute. He gave his hoof a quick lick and leaned forward. Off in the distance, there was a break where the light hit the glacier, a gap in the otherwise solid blue-white snow. Until a moment ago, it had been hidden by the curve of the glacier and the light, but now … The binoculars made the break leap into sharp clarity, and he ran his eyes down it, a chill running down his back. That’s either the most starkers distraction I’ve ever seen … Or Sombra has no intent of doubling back on us. There’s no mistaking it, that’s … Something. He didn’t know what yet. Just what it looked like. And what it looked like was … An excavation. A massive crevasse where the glacier had been forced apart by large, crystalline growths. His nose tickled as the scent of Nova’s cooking wafted into the cockpit. “Nova?” he called. “Got something?” “Yeah,” he said, nodding though he was the only one in the room. “Cook fast.” He leaned forward and adjusted the throttle, The Hummingbird’s propellers winding up as the machine fought against the sky. “You’ve got maybe three minutes.” “Got it!” The clatter echoing from the galley picked up, along with the sizzle of cooking food. Hunter picked up the binoculars again and took a second look. “What do we have?” Bolt’s sudden question, as well as her unexpected appearance, caught him by surprise. “The props wound up,” she said, water dripping from her wet mane and running down her face to a towel she had wrapped around her barrel. “I jumped out.” “That,” he said, pointing at the already nearing discoloration and passing her the binoculars. Bolt let out a low whistle. “Somepony’s been busy.” “Somepony has. Made the most of the last few hours, from the look of it.” “Did he crack the glacier open?” “I don’t know.” She passed the binoculars back, and he took another look. “Maybe widened a crevasse? The ice around those crystals is all broken up, and it looks like the crystals themselves are evenly spaced.” “Like supports.” “Yeah. Like ribs on a ship.” But why? “Is this where you left him this morning when you turned around?” “Umm …” Sky Bolt reared up, her hooved on the side of the controls as she flipped the maps down and checked their heading. “Looks like it.” She folded the maps back up and out of sight, dripping water on the cockpit glass as she took in the surrounding countryside. “I think so,” she said after a moment, pointing at a trio of weathered rocks near the glacier’s edge. “That collection of stones looks familiar.” She dropped back down to all fours, shooting a disgusted glance at the small puddles of water she’d left on the cockpit floor. “When I turned around, there wasn’t a crystal growing out of the surface of the glacier.” She glanced at the puddles again, frowning. “I need to go towel off and suit up.” He nodded, lifting the binoculars once more. “Do it. We’ve got a bit until we’re on top of this. Even if we don’t know what ‘this’ is, yet.” Which, he thought, means I should probably not just charge in. He lowered the glasses as Bolt backed out of the cockpit, still eyeing the water-marks that she’d left. What if it’s a trap of some kind for an airship? The idea seemed far-fetched, but at the same time … How much damage could one of those bits of crystal do if it was propelled into the gas-bag? Dangerous or not, it’d take a lot of energy to send something so massive more than a few-hundred feet into the air. Even something small took a lot of energy to get to a decent height. He leaned forward, setting the binoculars to one side, and adjusted their course, The Hummingbird beginning a slow ascent as the glacier neared. There, he thought as he let their ascent level off. Let’s see him hit us with something now. It was hard to gauge their actual distance from the ground, as the altimeter was based off of air-pressure, and the mountainside definitely got in the way of that, but … We’re at least four-hundred feet up. Hitting us from there would require some serious effort. He panned the binoculars over the rift again in a long, slow pan, trying to pick out as many details as he could. Still can’t see how deep it is, but it’s at least a good fifteen feet across. And … He eyed the snow along the edges of the break. It was fresh and clean near the top, but after moving a bit down the icy surface, the color shifted, growing dark and dirty. So there was an opening here already, he thought, moving his gaze to the ends of the crevasse. There the snow was still white and fresh, and the ice around cracked and uneven, as if forced up. But it’s been lengthened. Though not by much. He frowned as he panned over the crack once more, eyeing the thick, heavy crystals that had forced it apart. Like the rocks poking free of the mountain, they were grey and silent. Six on each side, shoving the ice back. Like the one we found south of here, but that was just one, and so Sombra could force himself out. So if he’s not doing that here … His frown deepened. Some sort of … excavation? Digging down into the glacier to find something? A small shiver worked its way down his back, his gut clenching slightly. What would be so important that he would abandon his seat of power to find it? Assuming that it was the shade digging for something, and not just hiding for … some reason. Not a lot to go on, Hunter thought. But what we’ve got isn’t exactly helpful either. A clatter from the door pulled his attention away, Nova floating in a plate loaded down with a large yellow omelet. “Food,” he said quickly, eyes already darting to the chasm ahead of them. They were close enough now that it was possible to make out some of the details without the binoculars. “Whoa,” Nova said, stepping up to the glass. “That’s a lot bigger than the last one.” “It is,” Hunter said, taking the plate and setting it on the console. “What do you think?” “I think …” Nova’s horn glowed, and Hunter saw the colt’s eyes widen. “What?” “There’s no magic.” “What?” He leaned forward. “What do you mean there’s no magic?” “Well, there’s magic,” Nova said, horn still glowing. “But it’s faint. And deep. And those crystals aren’t pulsing like the ones we’ve seen before. They’re like the … dead ones, I guess, that we found around those worms.” “Storms, I didn’t even notice that.” A quick glance through the binoculars confirmed Nova’s words. The crystals were static, unchanging. There was nothing pulsing through them like the other crystals they’d seen Sombra in before. “So he’s gone,” he said, sinking back. “Maybe.” Nova’s horn flared a bit brighter and then winked out. “There’s definitely … something … further down. But it makes me think it’s like some sort of … mine? Dig site?” Hunter nodded, then reached out and pulled the throttle back, slowing The Hummingbird as the edge of the glacier neared. “That’s what I was thinking. And you said you can sense something down there?” “I …” Nova shook his head. “Just ‘down there.’ I can’t feel anything else. No telling what it could be, or why, or even what direction it’s in. It’s just down there. Way down there.” “But you can’t say how far down? Nova shook his head. “Not from this height. Just ‘down there.’” “Better than nothing.” He adjusted the throttle once more, slowing The Hummingbird almost to a stop, the crevasse in the glacier spread out before them. Now that they were so close, he could see down into the opening, stretching down into the depths of the ice. The gap narrowed as it dropped, but he could see additional crystal growths along the glacier walls deeper down, shoring them up. And that definitely looks like some sort of dig, or excavation or something. But why? And how far down does it go? The early sun wasn’t in any position to help; the crevice turned to shadow pretty quick. “We’re going down there, aren’t we?” Nova asked “As crook as this looks?” he asked, looking at him. “Yeah. We are.” He grabbed his plate. “So eat fast, and let’s gear up.” “Then we’ll go see what’s so important to Sombra he made us chase him across half a mountain to find it, and spent the last four hours digging his way down.”