//------------------------------// // Chapter 26 // Story: Fine Print // by Starscribe //------------------------------// Tracy spent the whole drive back home trying to think of a way to convince his friends to leave. He had black mold, he had rabid rats, he had typhoid in the pipes. All options sounded at once completely plausible and also utterly insane. By the time he was finally pulling up, he’d considered and rejected a dozen different stupid ideas. All of those things might prompt them to try and take him away, invoking Discord’s wrath. Or maybe they’d contact the city and get municipal property inspectors out, only to invoke Discord’s wrath a different way. He parked in his usual place, and watched Anton’s old beat-up sedan sputter to a stop not far behind. Its windshield was half-covered with dead and smeared bugs, but they hadn’t bothered clearing them off. How can you guys even see through that? Marshall hopped out of shotgun, looking the property over with a critical eye. He didn’t say anything, though, possibly searching it for signs of what was really wrong. “Doesn’t look strange to me. Thought I’d be able to hear the wailing ghosts or whatever, if we got this close.” Anton slung his cell phone out of a pocket, taking a few pictures. At least they hadn’t grabbed their luggage. “Before you get any closer, I have to warn you about a few things…” he said, turning to face them. None of his neighbors were out, though that wasn’t unusual. He didn’t even know any of their names, and hadn’t learned anything about their habits. He couldn’t exactly have the friendly chat on the porch, not when leaving first would mean they would see him change into a horse. “I had to sign a weird contract to move here.” He closed the distance between them, lowering his voice and looking deadly serious. “I was going to get fired if I didn’t move into town, right? Everywhere was way too expensive, or I couldn’t get in without a local reference, or my credit wasn’t good enough. This was the only place I could find. The contract was cheap, but I basically signed my soul away to move in.” “I see where this is going,” Shane said flatly. “This is the part where you say we can’t stay the night, isn’t it? Told you two we should’ve asked.” “I’ll help you play for an Airbnb,” he interrupted, waving a dismissive hand. “Hell, I’ll pay for the whole thing. But Shane is right, you should’ve asked. Showing up in the middle of the work week like this, I won’t be able to do very much while you’re here. It’s an awful lot of driving and time off for nothing.” Anton shrugged ambivalently. “Eh, gas is pretty cheap, and the drive is fun. You should see the size of the station they built in Jean.” Maybe we can avoid all this. He brought up the Airbnb app on his phone, scrolling through and finding a place that would fit the three of them. It took him less than a minute to finish things up. “There, booked. I know where in town it is too, if you want me to go with you over there. I know a good bar. Built like the inside of a pirate ship, it’s pretty—” Anton cleared his throat, putting one hand on Tracy’s shoulder. “That’s all cool, Tracy. But you didn’t think of all that before we got here. That tells me there’s something serious going on, something maybe you want to tell us. I don’t think ‘not letting people spend the night’ is something so crazy you didn’t think we’d believe it.” “I am curious,” Marshall said. “There’s no way you can’t show us. They’d never be able to make that legal, unless it was like a halfway house or something. Did you get into more trouble than you were willing to share?” He swore under his breath, then turned towards the door. “Alright, fine. I’m going to tell you exactly what’s going on here. When I do, you’re going to think I’ve completely lost my mind. But before you call emergency services and try to have me evaluated, I want you to let me show you. You have to let me show you before you decide if I’m insane, okay? Also, nobody step inside yet. I have my reasons, just trust me.” “Okay,” Shane said. “Now you got me interested again. It just wouldn’t be polite to leave after making such a big deal about it.” “It’s going to be something stupid,” Marshall muttered. “I’m predicting someone famous used to live here, or maybe still does. That… second one would make more sense with not being allowed to have guests over. Famous person wants to pretend to be poor and live in a crappy apartment. You’re not allowed to film them or have anyone over, but otherwise it’s basically the same as anywhere else.” “Kinda,” he said. “I do need you to put the phones away, actually. There’s… nothing in my contract about your violations, but it did say I needed to warn you that an ‘independent adjuster’ would get involved if any third parties broke the rules about photography. Trust me when I tell you, you do not want to screw with this guy. Don’t try to film.” Anton stuck his phone away, looking reluctant. “Now you have us worried, Tracy. Just say it.” He took a deep breath. “My contract is with the devil, or something like it. It has terms that can’t be broken, like… physically can’t be broken. And the apartment itself is in another universe.” All three of them stared. A car drove by on the street behind them, somewhere far away a police siren rang out through the early evening. The silence became so complete he could even hear music playing through one of his neighbors’ walls, some loud R&B with beats that reverberated through the outdoors. “Your apartment is in hell?” Anton asked, taking his words slowly. He pointed up at the house with one hand. “That apartment. The one that’s in San Jose. Is in hell?” Told you that you’d all think I was insane. But it was too late to back away now. Once he’d opened his mouth, he’d committed to this. “Not hell, and… I think the door might be on this side, but everything else is over there. But you all just promised to let me show you. Watch.” He made his way to the door, checking in both directions as he fumbled with the key. His hands were shaking with nervous anticipation now, but there was nothing more for it. He swung the door open, revealing the hallway leading inside. If he expected the spell to react differently to having so many people there, he was disappointed. The doorway was just a door, in a plain concrete hallway with one of his raincoats on a hook. One of the few pony garments he had that provided actual modesty, though it rained so rarely in Ponyville that he hadn’t had a chance to use it yet. Marshall’s voice was soft, like he was afraid Tracy might get spooked at a moment’s notice. “Tracy, that looks like an ordinary hallway. If this is a prank, could you skip to the punch line?” Tracy took one last look up and down the street. There was no one looking, and now with his friends standing by the door there was little chance anyone would see him. They were closing in, in fact. Maybe to grab him and escort him to psychological care. Maybe just to offer moral support for the obvious breakdown he’d suffered.  Oh no. Not before I’ve said my piece. “One more thing.” He held up a hand, stopping them. “You’ll be able to see the door working right away, because humans don’t exist on that side. Our species can’t cross, so you transform to look like them. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s extremely disorienting the first few times.” “Alright now, Tracy.” Shane reached out with one hand, eyes wide with fear. “That’s quite enough of that. You said it would sound crazy… even you must recognize how unhinged that all sounds. Why don’t we find somewhere nice to sit down and have a chat about all this. Forget drinks, we can do ice cream. You like that better, right?” He backed away, right up against the doorway. “First, I get to show you, then decide.” He crossed over the threshold, as he’d done hundreds of times before. The effect was immediate, just as it had been every other time he stepped through that door. His own familiarity had grown quite a bit, though, so he reacted swifter. Instead of falling over, Tracy slid neatly to all fours, letting his clothes adjust so they covered nothing and served basically no purpose, like always. He spread his wings, grinning with pointed bat-fangs. “See? Still think I’m crazy?” Anton’s face went white. Shane swore under his breath, turning and storming a few steps away, before stomping back to look again, breathless. Marshall didn’t move at all, his expression completely frozen.  “Get the hell out of there!” Anton finally said, reaching across the line to yank him back. But he had to reach into Equestria to do that. His hand turned into a green hoof as it did so, only bumping against Tracy’s leg. He saw, eyes widening with horror. He stumbled back, clutching his hand to his chest and hyperventilating in the driveway. “Damn. My hand…” He held it out, flexing his fingers one at a time. They’d been restored. Tracy did step back, mostly because of the noise they were all making. Even if the neighbors didn’t know or care about him most of the time, the louder they got the harder they would be to ignore. He emerged on the other side of the portal entirely human, not even wobbling on his feet as it happened this time. He’d taken a few faceplants during the early months, but not anymore. “Relax, deep breaths. I don’t want the neighbors to think there’s some kind of… domestic disturbance or whatever.” “Domestic disturbance,” Shane said, his voice low and dangerous. He stormed up to Tracy, shoving his finger right in his face. “You give any kind of damn about a god-damn… domestic disturbance?” He gestured angrily with his other hand, through the open door. “Did I just have a stroke? Does your Stonefire drug the food? Did you poison us?” Tracy rolled his eyes. “You picked the restaurant and called me, stupid. I didn’t even know you were coming. You ordered before I even knew you were in town.” Shane fell silent, taking a few steps back. He still looked afraid, but now his fear had transformed.  “My hand changed!” Anton said again. “I could feel it, my fingers were all numb, all that hair…” “A hoof,” Tracy supplied helpfully. He glanced nervously around, but no one else was on the streets with them. He thought he could see a few opened windows, eyes watching from a house across the street. How much they could see with no streetlight on yet, Tracy didn’t guess. “It goes away as soon as you’re back out, though. Your hand won’t change again on this side.” “You made a deal with the devil,” Marshall said. His voice alone was calm, more than either of the others. He hadn’t moved from beside the door either. “You live in another universe. Why didn’t you come back? I would’ve let you surf my couch until you were on your feet.” “I couldn’t leave!” he said, maybe a little louder than he should have. “The contract is explicit, Marshall. If I try to leave the house before my lease is up in January, the devil gets my soul. I can’t move, I can’t live anywhere else for more than three days in a month, I can’t do a whole damn list of things in the contract I should’ve read before I signed.” I probably would’ve still signed it, though. I wouldn’t believe any of what it said without visiting Equestria for myself. Hinges squeaked, and light flooded out from within. Tracy turned towards the inner door, now fully ajar. Rose stood there, mouth hanging open as she stared at the three of them. Had she ever looked at him for so long on the other side of the door, let alone three strangers? “Hey Rose,” he said, waving awkwardly to her. “My friends didn’t believe where I lived. They wanted to visit for a bit.”