//------------------------------//
// Case Eleven, Chapter Eight: Dark Clouds Gathering 
// Story: Ponyville Noire: Kriegspiel—Black, White, and Scarlet 
// by PonyJosiah13 
//------------------------------//

Daring stood with her eyes closed, one hoof touching one of her own feathers that had been plucked and placed atop the circle of salt that had been placed around her on the lush carpeting. The private train car that Celestia had arranged for them rattled around her, the floor shifting and swaying beneath her hooves. Outside, she knew, the skies were dark and scattered with Luna’s stars, with Altair and Aquila guiding the train on to the south. 

This is ridiculous, Daring thought to herself. With a sigh, she imagined that the circle around her was growing into a wall that would block all magic around her. She took in a deep breath, then let it out with a sharp blow. Circle, close!

Nothing happened. Just like the last ten times. 

“This is pointless. It won't work,” Daring snapped to Velvet, who was sitting and watching from the fine dining table, munching on an eclair. Daring grunted and rubbed at her side, which was still sore even after several doses of healing spells and potions that tasted like pure cinnamon mixed with sour milk. 

Velvet swallowed her sweet, then sat up straight and crossed her hind legs into a lotus position. “It won't work because you are convinced that it won’t,” she said in a sage voice, taking the role of a great master teaching the young student. “All forms of magic rely on belief that the spell will work: if you do not believe it will work, it won’t.” 

“You’re asking me to do the impossible,” Daring protested. “I’m not a unicorn, and I don’t have any magic education. I can’t do magic spells like this.” 

“You can fly, can’t you?” Velvet asked. “Isn’t that magic? And doesn’t it rely at least partially on you believing that you can fly? Those wings aren’t big enough to hold you up on their own, you know.” 

Daring paused for a moment. “True…” 

“And I can use this ward,” Phillip pointed out from his chair on the other side of the car, opening up his vest to reveal the diamond and star shape burned into the interior of the fabric. “You’ve got one, too, you know.” 

“Ooh!” Night Light cried, looking up from the desk where he was busily quadruple-checking the translations that he’d started while Daring was getting the venom curse treated. He bent down and scanned the ward with his horn. The runes surrounding the brand glimmered with Twilight’s purple magic. “Yup, that’s my kids’ work,” he said proudly. 

“If I have that, then why do I need to learn this?” Daring grumbled. 

“Because that ward is only good for a one-time shield, really: it has to recharge in between uses,” Velvet said patiently. “The circle is stagnant, but if you can put one up, it’ll screen out any magic. It won’t stop them from hopping over the circle, but it’ll definitely help. Plus, it's just useful to know.” 

Daring frowned at the salt circle around her. “Well...it’s not the kind of magic I’m used to,” she admitted. “I mean…” She sighed. “I guess I’m just not sure I can do this.” 

Velvet smiled and patted Daring on the shoulder. “We’re all at the same place when we first start something,” she reassured her. “I can’t tell you the number of times I came close to a nervous breakdown in Magic Academy! All it takes is a bit of belief and practice. Try it again.” 

Daring looked down at the circle, then at her wings. She could feel the buzzing of the flight magic in her pinions as she flexed them. Velvet was right: she could do magic. And she’d faced murderers...really, how hard was one silly salt circle?

I can do it.

Daring closed her eyes and reached down deep into herself, deep into her gut. In the back of her mind, the echoes of Twilight’s voice sounded: 

“It’s kind of like firing a gun: the bullet is the energy and the gun is the conduit. Loading the gun is gathering the energy, aiming it is focusing your will and emotions, and firing the gun is channeling the energy as a spell.”

Daring took in a slow breath, focusing on the tingling of energy in her wings: she drew it in along with the breath, relishing the feeling as it buzzed down her bones, and she felt it trickling down her spine and into her gut, forming into a ball of static energy that she held down with her breath. Gather energy.

She focused on a single image in her mind: the energy traveling down her hoof, through the feather that still contained and conducted her magic, and into the salt, which would form a solid wall all around her, blocking any magic that tried to go in or out. She put her hope, her determination into the vision until it became real and tangible before her, until she could feel and see the wall of energy around her. Focus will.

And then, with a sharp exhalation, Daring released the energy outwards. It soared up her gut, traveled down her foreleg, and through the feather, which she felt flash hot in her grip. 

With a snap, the circle closed around her in a wall of invisible, tingling magic. Daring’s eyes flew open to behold her companions’ admiring gazes. 

“Yay!” Velvet cheered, clapping enthusiastically. “Good job, Daring!” 

Daring grinned and spread her wings in a display of pride. A moment later, her expression and mood both deflated as the circle fizzled and broke. 

“Hey, that’s okay,” Velvet reassured her. “That was great for your first try! It just takes a few tries. We can try it again.” 

“Later,” Phillip observed, his expression turning to seriousness as he glanced out the window. “We’re home.” 

With a squeal of brakes and a smooth shuddering, the train car halted. The door was opened before anypony inside could reach it, revealing the platform with a single mare in a black trenchcoat standing on it. 

“I received your message, Finder,” Cold Case stated, dousing her horn and stepping back to allow the ponies to depart the train car. 

“Nice to see you again, too,” Daring said coolly as she stepped onto the platform. 

Cold elected to ignore her. “You have the spell to reveal the Talon?” 

“Here, here,” Night Light said, showing her the thick packet of translations and notes that he’d made. 

Cold took the papers and scanned through them, lighting her pipe and inserting the stem into her mouth with her magic as she did so. After a few moments, she nodded. “I see. Good work.” 

“That’s the nicest thing she’s ever said to anypony,” Daring grunted. 

“Daring, quiet,” Phillip hissed. 

“What’s this?” Cold asked, turning to the last page. 

“That might be related to Zugzwang,” Phillip stated. “To what he is.” 

Cold read the translation out loud: 



Of the Ngluwi (no direct translation), little is known. If it is a creation of the True Masters, or if it came out of the same primordial chaos that they were born in, is still a matter of debate. What is known is this: it is a spirit of vengeance and hate that can only exist in our world if it inhabits a living body. When the Ngluwi takes a willing host’s body, it shares their flesh, their thoughts, their hopes, and most of all, their hate and pain. You will know the bearer of the Ngluwi by these marks upon their flesh, which harness and contain its power, and by their black eyes. When dealing with the Ngluwi, be very cautious: the Ngluwi prefers hosts that are naturally powerful and cunning, and it adds its own experience and power atop theirs. Bear in mind their weakness: the markings are



“Where’s the rest of it?” Cold asked, looking through the small packet of papers again. 

“Bugger,” Phillip scowled. “Hidden stole it before Night could write down all of it.” 

Cold frowned. “Well, if Zugzwang is this...Nig-glue-wi thing, we at least know what it is.” She chewed on the stem of her pipe for a moment, then tucked it away with a grunt. “Right. We captured the pilot of the ship that Whitestone has been using to ferry supplies to the Talon. He’s agreed to guide a strike team of Marines and our officers towards the cove where they normally dock. I and a few other unicorns will perform the spell to reveal it. Finder, you may come if you wish.” 

“What about me?” Daring asked. 

“You are injured and need rest,” Cold replied. “You will be helping to protect Twilight: she recently came down with a bad cold and is staying home.” 

Indignation flared in Daring’s stomach. “Hey, I—!” But even as she said it, pain flared across her side once more, and she stumbled with a wince. 

“Daring,” Cold interrupted in a calmer tone, finally turning to face her with those icy, but calm blue eyes. “Twilight is still being watched: Flash accompanied her all day yesterday, and he reported that he spotted no less than four pursuers following them. If you’re hurt, you’ll be a liability on this mission: but you can still help protect her.” 

Daring started to protest again, but Phillip laid a hoof on her shoulder and gave her a placating look. She sighed and began to massage the tender muscles. “Fine,” she grumbled. 

Phillip kissed her on the forehead. “I’ll get ‘em all for you, Daring,” he reassured her, receiving a grunt in reply. 

“We have a lot of work to do, Finder,” Cold declared, gesturing towards the waiting black Chevroneigh Fleetracer on the street. “Let’s get moving.” 

The group climbed into the car, with Phillip sliding into the passenger seat, and the others climbing into the back, and Cold started the engine up, pulling it into the lazy evening traffic. As she paused at an intersection, she cleared her throat, then was silent in contemplation. 

“Phillip. Daring. There’s something you should know,” she announced, keeping her eyes forward. “Mavri, the griffon…” She paused for a moment longer, then let out a sigh that smelled of cinnamon and cloves. “He’s dead.” 

Daring felt as though she’d been punched in the gut: her head snapped up to meet Cold’s blue irides in the rearview mirror. “How?” 

“He was shot during an altercation at the Gold Griffon’s Head,” Cold explained. “He died en route to the hospital.” She was silent for a moment longer. “I’m sorry,” she added in a quieter tone. 

Daring and Phillip both exchanged glances of the same pain as Velvet placed a comforting hoof on Daring's shoulder. Phillip sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Did they get the guy?” he asked, an icy, hard tone behind his voice like a distant storm front. 

“Yes,” Cold nodded. “The shooter was arrested along with the Talon’s smuggler.” 

“Good,” Phillip grunted. “Now, let’s get back to Twilight’s home. We have work to do.” 





Hawkdive Base was placed right on the mouth of the Maresippi River, on the southern bank. The dark trees of the Everfree Forest were a mere seven miles north across the still waters that were just now reflecting the warm golds and oranges of the morning sun. 

The land base sprawled across twenty-five square miles, composed of ammunition depots, dry docks, barracks, and headquarters. The main headquarters sat in the center, a three-story marble edifice with a well-tended garden in the front. 

Commodore Mortar was a tall, dusty white griffon with brick-red plumage. His uniform was so crisp that its creases could be used to cut steak, and his light brown eyes, weathered with years of spray and wind, were as calm and hard as a rock in a tempest. He stared down at the map of Horseshoe Bay spread across the table before him, a map that was covered in red dots. 

“And you’re certain that this pilot is telling the truth?” he asked, tapping a section of southeastern banks that had been circled in red pen. 

“We trust but verify,” Cold Case replied from across the desk. “You did say that you had narrowed down possibilities to the Talon’s hiding place to near those coves. Our suspect indicates that the Talon usually docks there to refuel, perform repairs, and stock up on supplies: apparently, they even have a forge there for making shells.” 

“That’s where most of the wreckages of the ships they sink are centered,” Mortar nodded, indicating the largest cluster of red dots centered around the small cluster of islands. “But if it really is invisible like you say, we’ve tried a dozen different methods of detection. What makes you sure that this spell of yours will work?” 

“It’s from a reliable source,” Cold said, glancing sideways at Phillip, who was leaning against the back wall, smoking a cigarette. 

“And why exactly is he here?” Mortar asked, glancing at Phillip. 

“You think of the Talon as an enemy ship, but to me, it’s a crime scene,” Cold explained. “And Detective Finder is my best crime scene pony. There could be a wealth of evidence and information on that ship, and I don’t intend for it to go to waste.” 

Mortar thought for a few moments, then grunted. “Well, hell, it’s not like we got any other ideas. I’ll get a pair of destroyers and some of my best marines and spellcasters ready.” 

“Excellent,” Cold Case nodded, pulling out the notes with the Amulet of Ina’yk’s revelation spell on it. “How soon can we be wheels up?” 

“Shouldn’t take more than a few minutes,” Mortar explained. 

“We will be joining you,” Cold Case declared. 

Mortar studied her for a beat of silence. “Whitestone is our case,” Cold Case continued: her voice was still the same volume and tone as before, but there was now a colder whisper around the edges that blew away any arguments. “She and her crew have been terrorizing Ponyville for years. They’ve targeted my officers and crew. They’re our collar, Commodore.” 

Mortar stared for a moment longer, then nodded. “We all have our duties. I can respect that,” he said. He grabbed a phone off of the desk and held it up to his ear. “Get my XOs in here,” he said into the phone before hanging up. 

A group of junior officers soon tramped into the room. Mortar gathered them around and explained the situation, gesturing to the map and started planning out resources. Quickly realizing that he was not needed, Phillip quietly excused himself and headed outside. 

The sun was higher, but the warmth was not quite enough to block out the cool wind that blew in from the east. Walking out in front of the base, he paused in front of a large marble obelisk with an eagle perched on the top, facing towards the rising sun. He read the plaque in front of the monument. 



On the 24th of the Moon of Robins, 1941, the North Griffonese Navy, under treaty with King Sombra, invaded Horseshoe Bay. Their attempts to progress further inland up the Maresippi River were stopped here, but it was not until the Moon of Cold, 1942, that Equestria was able to chase the invaders out of our waters with the aid of Lord Torch’s Army. This monument is inscribed with the names of all those on this base who gave their lives to protect our lands.



Phillip studied the obelisk, which was about five feet tall, each side almost a foot wide. There were a lot of names inscribed into the stone in inch-high letters. 

He looked back down at the plaque. ‘Gave their lives,’ he thought ruefully. Sounds better than ‘died,’ I suppose.

Sucking down another long drag on his cigarette, he looked over the ships that bobbed in the water. A trio of destroyers, a cruiser, a medical frigate, and a collection of patrol boats. Sailors—more than half of them hippogriffs and griffons—moved on and off the ships, carrying equipment and weapons. Barked orders and replies were carried to him on the wind. 

The Talon is just one ship, he told himself. We can handle it.

And yet his intuition continued squirming in his stomach, underneath the slow buzzing of his sleep-deprived mind and the grumbling of his stomach, and he was reminded that he had only managed a couple hours of sleep on the way to the base. Grunting, he sucked down another long drag on his cigarette, allowing his mind to flow freely. 

He must’ve fallen asleep standing up, because the next thing he knew, Cold was shaking his shoulder. “We’re ready,” she announced as the other officers started trotting towards the docks. “We’re taking the second ship, the Medicin.” 

Phillip followed her up one of the gangplanks onto the leftmost destroyer. The Medicin, with its five heavy cannons and four anti-air guns, was an ugly, angular mass of metal; it was built only to destroy, and this was evident in every angle. The black metal behemoth was cold beneath his hooves as he stepped on: he could feel the water shuddering beneath him, seemingly struggling to hold up the heavy mass of creatures, guns, ammunition, and supplies. 

Cold and Phillip trotted up narrow stairways and corridors to the bridge, where Captain Agatha, a bright blue hippogriff with a cap pulled down low over her eyes, greeted them curtly, ordered them both to extinguish their smokes, and gave the command for anchors aweigh. With a roaring of engines and low rumble that rippled through the metal, the Medicin was soon following its sister ship, the Mimosa, westward towards the Bay. 

From beneath, Phillip could hear voices: the griffon crew, chanting, praying to Kriga for victory: 

“Mörkret det faller över vårt land, 
Vindarna viner, marken skakar, 
Fienden samlas runt vårt rike, 
Redo att kuva oss nu. 

"Krigare samlas vid helig grav 
Kallar på Kriga, vår far, vår kung: 
Hjälp vi behöver vid denna strid!
Fräls oss, fräls oss, mäktiga gud!”

And yet, despite the trained soldiers around him, despite all the heavy weaponry that was surely more than enough for a single Griffonese cruiser, all Phillip could think about was the message that his intuition was whispering in the back of his skull, deep in his gut: Turn back.





“I should be back at work,” Twilight hoarsely grumbled once more and sniffled. She groaned and blew her nose loudly, wincing as her inflamed nostrils protested.  

“Relax, Twilight,” Spike reassured her for the dozenth time, sitting next to her on the couch. “You’ll be safe here. I mean, we’ve got the wards all over, Daring and Dash and your parents and Flash and the other officers are here…” 

“I’d be safe at the precinct, too,” Twilight snapped back, keeping her narrowed eyes on the science textbook in front of her. Her protest quickly turned into a fit of coughing. 

“Doctor Suunkii can handle the work for a day,” Night Light pointed out, placing a tea tray with steaming tea and fresh cookies on the table in front of Twilight and Spike. “What’s most important is keeping you safe. And that includes making sure you’re kept behind warded walls and not out on the street.” 

“But—” 

“No buts, young lady,” Velvet said sternly. “Don’t make me send you to your room!”

“Mom, I’m twenty-one years old!” Twilight protested through another cough. 

“You’re still my daughter,” Velvet replied with a raised eyebrow, earning a grumble in reply. 

A yellow earth pony wandered in after his nose, sniffing the air. His eyes locked onto the tray of cookies and his pupils widened in delight. “Thanks, Mrs. V!” Bumblebee cried, pouncing on the snack. 

“You know I’m not always going to be around to chase perps for you,” Prowl called from the front window, adjusting the straps on her shoulder holster. 

“Officers, you really don’t have to do this on your off days,” Twilight protested. 

Bumblebee swallowed before speaking. “Hey, I was just going to sit in bed and eat junk food all day anyway! At least now I can do something with my time.” 

“And it frees up the officers on duty,” Prowl pointed out. “Where’s Sentry, Daring, and Rainbow?” 

“Flash’s doing a quick patrol outside again, and Daring and Dash are on the back porch,” Bumblebee replied through another mouthful, joining Prowl at the window. “You see anything?” 

“Nothing suspicious so far,” Prowl replied, accepting a single cookie. “Keep your eyes open.” 

Outside, Daring and Rainbow Dash sat on the back porch, leaning against the banister and watching the skies. Daring took another draw on her cigarette and puffed out the smoke, being careful to blow it away from Rainbow. 

“You’re awful quiet, kid,” Daring observed. Rainbow had hardly spoken a word since she arrived earlier that morning, instead focusing on conjuring clouds between her wings. 

“I…” Rainbow started to say, then sighed and lowered her face onto her hoof, flicking her wing to make the little clouds that she'd created dissipate into vapor. “I just…” 

“Spit it out, kid,” Daring said. 

Dash was silent for a moment, then growled and slammed her hoof against the wood. “I could’ve saved Mavri!” she shouted. 

Daring turned to face Rainbow, then leaned in closer. “Tell me what happened,” she said in a soft voice. 

Rainbow related the entire story as well as she could: she paused once when she mentioned hearing the gunshot and her voice quavered when she got to the part where she realized that Mavri had been wounded. 

“If I’d been faster...if I’d been smarter…” Rainbow said, rubbing her face furiously. “He’d still be alive…” 

Daring placed a hoof on Rainbow’s withers. “Dash, it was not your fault,” she reassured her protege. “Blaming yourself is natural, but it’ll eat you up inside.” She paused for a moment, the cursed brand burning with fresh pain. “Believe me, I know,” she added. 

Dash let out a little sniffle. Daring turned Dash’s head around and forced her to look in her eyes. 

“This was not your fault,” she repeated, enunciating every word. “It was the fault of the bastard who shot him, not you. Now, you can beat yourself up with shoulda, coulda, woulda, or you can learn from this and move on, as hard as it is.” 

Rainbow took in a deep breath and nodded. “Right.” She looked around at the low clouds that hung over their heads. An idea sparked in her eyes. 

“You know how to make lightning strikes from a cloud?” she asked, flying up and grasping a couple bundles of cloud and clasping them between her wings. 

“No,” Daring admitted, raising an eyebrow as Rainbow rubbed her wings together. When she pulled her feathered appendages apart, the little tufts of cloud had magically combined and grown to a single sphere slightly larger than a coconut. 

Rainbow raised an eyebrow at her. "It's a thing that most pegasi learn when they're kids. Where did you go to--?" 

Daring raised an eyebrow at Rainbow. "Oh, right," Rainbow mumbled. "Sorry." 

"'S fine," Daring replied. 

Rainbow started spinning the sphere in her hooves, causing the edges to start crackling and buzzing. “Basically, you put some of your weather magic in there, and it gets the ions all lined up, like this. Twilight would probably give you some eggheaded explanation, but that's all you really need to know." Rainbow gathered up another bundle of clouds and passed them over to Daring. "Here, you try it." 

Daring carefully clasped the little sphere in her wings and began to rub them together. The little bundle of vapor was wet in her hooves, the tufts slow to respond to her commands. 

“Focus your magic,” Rainbow explained. “You have to concentrate your will through it.” 

“Been a while since I’ve used clouds,” Daring muttered, holding the cloud for a moment so that she could feel the tingling of the electricity and the buzzing of her flight magic around her wings joining together, becoming one in her mind and will. 

“Yeah, it takes a bit of practice,” Rainbow admitted. “Just take it slow at first. Not everypony can be as fast as me."  

“Nopony likes an egotist,” Daring replied, turning the cloud over in her hooves at a slower pace, feeling a slight chill around her feathers as water vapor in the air chilled, swirled together, and formed condensation, clinging to the cloud. A warmth then began to grow beneath her pinions that made the barbs tingle; electricity slowly began to build up within the cloud. She could feel it dancing within the construct, a faint vibration like something trying to get free from within. 

It took a bit of time, but Daring Do eventually managed to get her little sphere buzzing and crackling as lightning danced over the tufted edge. "Now what?" she asked. 

"Stand back," Rainbow warned, flying up into the sky with her own armed weapon. She hovered over the backyard, shot Daring a grin, then slammed her hoof against the cloud. 

With a flash of light and fury, a jagged bolt of lightning instantly streaked from the sphere and struck the ground beneath Rainbow, leaving a patch of scorched, smoking grass. 

Daring whistled and looked down at her own dark cloud. "I see why weather working can be so dangerous," she admitted. 

Twilight leaned out the window. "What's going on?" she asked. 

"Just teaching Daring how to zap ponies with lightning," Rainbow grinned. "As kids, we'd zap each other with these all the time." 

"And you considered that a good use of your time?"  Twilight asked with a raised eyebrow. 

"Hey, everypony does dumb things when they were kids!" Rainbow protested. "'Sides, we only used little ones, and it's not like it hurt that much, not when you have pegasus magic protecting you!" 

As Twilight shook her head. Flash trotted up to them both from the perimeter of the yard, carefully stepping over the circular line that marked the buried silver circle that was around the house; Daring saw him flinch slightly as he passed through the buzzing wall of energy that she herself could feel through her wings. 

“Nothing suspicious around the neighborhood,” he reported. He frowned at the scorching grass. "Uh, what happened?" 

"Lightning practice," Daring replied.

Flash grunted and looked around. “I hate this damn waiting,” he admitted. “Honestly, I think it’s worse than actually getting attacked...not that I want to be!” he quickly added. 

“I know how you feel,” Daring nodded, lighting a fresh fag. She took a long drag on the stick, studying the gray clouds overhead. Though she kept up the facade of being calm for the sake of her colleagues, on the inside, she felt like the spring to an alarm clock that had been wound too tightly. Anything might set her alarm off: the merest touch, the odd sound... 

Like that distant rumble of thunder in the distance. All three pegasi turned around to see a dark barrier of thunderheads charging in towards them from the west. Sheets of rain poured down from beneath the ugly black mass, so thick that all that could be seen of the houses beneath were faint silhouettes. Ponies on the streets quickly ran for cover to avoid the oncoming juggernaut.

“That wasn’t on the weather schedule, was it?” Flash asked. 

“Definitely not,” Rainbow frowned. “Maybe it’s a rogue storm out of the Everfree Forest.” 

“I don’t think so,” Daring muttered, flicking her cigarette away as she studied the cloud with narrowed eyes. “Both of you, get back inside.” 

“But—” Rainbow started to protest. 

“Inside. Now!” Daring barked, not taking her eyes off of the storm clouds. 

Flash and Rainbow both headed back inside. Daring entered after them and locked the door securely behind her, causing the wards around the house to glow purple once more. From inside, she glared up at the storm as it intruded upon Twilight’s home, rain and wind pelting the shielded windows. 

From within those dark clouds, eyes that Daring could not see glared back at her. A clawed talon gripped the cursed sword tightly, its master already thinking of drawing it through his foe's flesh and becoming stronger with her blood. 

Roaring looked around at his claw-picked crew, their fireproof cloaks flapping in the wind, the clouds tossing and turning beneath their paws and talons. Even if he could be heard over the wind and the thunder, nothing needed to be said. 

They were ready. 





“I’m...uncomfortable with this,” Captain Agatha admitted, frowning at the scene before her. 

Cold Case and the two unicorns that she’d brought with her, a blue stallion and a dark orange mare, were now standing on the bow of the Medicin, each of them sitting at one corner of the asymmetrical triangle that Cold had formed in chalk mixed with their blood. Arcane symbols, all of them seemingly random inscriptions, were drawn inside the triangle. Cold and the two unicorns were now casting colored lines of energy into their construction, traces of white, gold, and purple magic flickering and dancing along the chalk lines. The trios voices rose and fell in unison, speaking in words that did not sound like they were meant to come out of a normal pony’s throat, every syllable like ice water trickling down the listener’s ears. 

“This is what we have,” Phillip explained, looking away from the ritual and turning up towards the sky. The clouds had lowered themselves over the bay as they approached the cove: now, they blanketed the sky as far as he could see, casting the entire area in unnatural darkness for the midday. The Medicin and the Mimosa had had to snap on spotlights to provide enough illumination to navigate. Light waves crashed against the metal hull and the humongous rocks that now lurked around them like the towers of some partially sunken Cyclopean city. There were a hundred different shadows and caverns that the Talon might be hiding in, waiting for them to pass by. 

“I don’t put stake in superstitions, detective,” Agatha stated, pacing around the ritual. “This had better pan out.” 

“I don’t believe in legends, either,” Phillip replied. 

Didn’t, taunted the black-eyed specter that lurked in the back of his mind. 

Shut up, he ordered the memory. 

Cold covered her eyes with her hooves and spoke a single word in that dead language. The blue stallion covered his ears and spoke a different word, then the orange mare placed her hooves before her mouth and spoke another word. As one, the trio of unicorns knelt and placed their foreheads to the decks, intoning the same words and releasing one final burst of magic. As they did so, a distant rumble of thunder rolled overhead, causing nearly everycreature on deck to instinctively look up at the black blankets. 

The tri-colored energy coalesced into a single sphere that swirled in the middle of the construction, then suddenly burst in an explosion of color, energy swirling through the chalk lines and runes and covering the three ponies. The unicorns all shuddered and convulsed, then threw their heads back and howled to the darkened skies just as an icy wind rushed down from the north, blowing aside the chalk. The watching sailors yelped in surprise and astonishment as the gusts buffeted their coats and tore at their hats, salt stinging at their eyes and throats. Phillip jammed his trilby down onto his head before it could be blown away, squinting as the three unicorns swayed to music that only they could hear.  

“EHI! EHI! EHI!” the trio shouted as one, their eyes wide and unfocused, the colors flickering in their eyes. “NYAGLATH, GER’UH ANGFAH!” 

And just as suddenly as it started, the wind stopped and the three unicorns fell to the deck, panting. Phillip rushed to Cold’s side and gently helped her sit up. 

“Get off, I’m fine,” she grunted, blinking and rubbing her eyes. She opened her eyes, shaking her head: flickers of white, gold, and purple shone in her irides for a moment before fading. She slowly turned around in a circle, then her head snapped to the southwest. 

“I see the Talon,” she declared, pointing. 

“I see it, too,” the younger mare confirmed, looking in the same direction. 

“Same,” the stallion added, squinting. “I can see it...glowing, through those rocks over there. It looks kind of like I’m seeing it through a fuzzy mirror.” 

Agatha frowned for a moment, then grunted. “All right. Helmspony, southwest!” she commanded, pointing.

The Medicin rumbled to life and proceeded southwest, carefully trawling past the towers of stone. The Mimosa followed a few yards to their port, spotlights sweeping across the water. 

Cold kept her eyes focused over the bow, staring ahead at the invisible ship. Phillip stood at her side, breathing in the cold sea air. “You okay?” he asked quietly. 

“Fine,” Cold nodded, not looking at him.

Phil studied her out of the corner of his eye. It was difficult to tell, but she actually appeared to be slightly paler than before, and the rhythm of her breathing was too regular, like she was forcing herself to breathe slowly. A glance at the other two unicorns confirmed that they were both white-faced and shivering slightly, their pupils too wide, even for the dark. 

“At the end there—” he started to say. 

“It’s fine,” Cold grunted, still not looking at him. “It...it was necessary.” She squinted, then pointed. “The Talon is behind that column over there." 

The two destroyers split up, each sailing around one side of the tower. Agatha raised a talon in silent command. Every sailor on the deck took cover as hooves and claws grasped small arms: cannons swiveled around with groans and anti-air guns were manned and cocked. 

They rounded the corner and the spotlight snapped to find a rust-coated Griffonese cruiser floating in the churning water. The Amulet of Ina’yk was hanging off the front mast, the red eye almost seeming to blink at them as it slowly revolved in the wind. 

But no one opened fire. The ship, everyone quickly realized, was sitting unmoving in the water, and there was no sign of anyone on the deck. 

“What’s that?” the orange mare asked, pointing at a small shape hidden in the shadow of one of the stone columns. 

Phillip pulled out his field binoculars and turned on the night vision enchantment for better vision. “It’s...a motorboat,” he announced, squinting at the low, bobbing shape. “Looks like it’s tied to the Talon with a ladder.” He lowered the binoculars. “Somepony beat us here.” 

Agatha stared for a moment, then grunted and raised a hoof. “Boarding party!” she barked. 

A squadron of griffons took off from the decks of both destroyers and landed on the bow and stern of the Talon, weapons raised to clear the area. Encountering no resistance, one griffon set up a circle of metal wire with what looked like a mirror in the center on the deck. As he finished, the construction started to glow brightly, then formed into a portal. Another portal opened on the decks of the Medicin and the Mimosa, with more Marines trooping through to join the team on the Talon. The thirty soldiers proceeded inside, disappearing into the interior of the enemy cruiser. 

Agatha clicked on her radio. “Squad, report. What’s in there?” 

“Captain, we’ve got bodies here,” a squadron leader reported through the radio, his voice tinny and hissing through the static. “Talon crew, looks like. Shot to death. Hang on, got another body here...not a Talon crew. He’s got prison tattoos on him.”

“An enemy crew,” Cold deduced with a frown. “But how did they get ahead of us…?” 

“Proceeding to bottom deck,” the squad leader reported. “All the lights are off...wait, what’s that? Did you hear that?”

There was silence on both ends of the line for several seconds, every listener holding their breaths. 

And then they all heard it: a low, slimy noise of something slithering across metal. A sound that made Phillip’s heart skip a beat. 

“What the he—oh, fuck! Shoot it, SHOOT IT!”

Gunshots roared out of the radio, accompanied by shouts of command and calls for backup. Then the screaming started, cries of pain accompanied by blades meeting flesh.

"Move, move!" Agatha commanded, but no sooner was the command out of her mouth than sparks shot out of the portal construct and the portal vanished with a snap of purple light, the mirror-like device shattering into fragments. 

Many shouts turned into a few screams of horror. More and more guns fell silent and the remaining ones roared out, not the disciplined short bursts of trained soldiers, but the long, magazine-emptying bursts of desperation. 

A few screams then turned into a single chorus of pleas that was cut off by the horrible howl of the dying. 

And then there was silence save for the hissing of static. “Squad? Squad, report!” an ashen-faced Agatha cried. 

“Your friends are dead, liebling.”

Phillip's heart spasmed and his breath caught as his ribs seemed to tighten in a python's grip: a moment later, he realized that his hair was standing on end. Looking down, he gasped in horror to see golden motes of light dancing around his limb. More lights began to dance around his vision and every instinct screamed at him to run, but it was already too late. 

“Phillip!” Cold cried, rushing in and grasping his foreleg, trying to pull him away just as his entire vision was washed out in a rush of gold. Both of them were sucked through a thin tube and they screamed as one as the world was yanked away.