//------------------------------// // Chapter 3: Frights and Small Spaces // Story: Into the Deep // by TwilightSparkle484 //------------------------------// "Applejack?” I called to the emptiness ahead of me. “What?!” The response was loud, too loud for the hollow cave we had become confined in. Her voice reverberated throughout the space around us, the echo repeating itself until it eventually died away. “Heh, heh,” Applejack chuckled, nervously. She lowered her voice. “Forgot about that. What’s wrong, Spike?” “It’s dark.” “We’re in a cave.” “I know. . .” “But?” “It’s really dark.” Despite the thicket of black between me and the orange pony, I could still sense the eye roll she gave me. “Haven’t you been in a cave before, Mr. Dragon?” “Yeah . . . but none of them were this dark. I can’t see more than ten feet in front of me.” Applejack sighed. I heard her shuffling from somewhere up ahead. Patiently, I waited for a few moments. A dull glow appeared from a passage on my right. Its intensity grew by the second, and as it did, my fears subsided. Applejack came into view, her headlamp revealing itself to be the source of the light. “Better?” she grumbled. “Yeah.” She approached me and wrapped a foreleg around my shoulders. Kneeling in front of me, she tipped my head upwards so that our eyes were forced to meet. “Everything’s gonna be okay, Spike. No matter what happens, you and I are gonna get out of this cave one way or another. Nothing’s gonna stop us. You just have to trust me, all right?” “I do,” I replied, nodding. I clenched a fist and took a few deep breaths. “I’m ready.” Applejack patted me on the back and rose to her hooves. “That’s the spirit. I know you can be brave. Make sure you stay close to me from now on.” AJ turned to face the passage she had begun treading. She bit her lip, contemplating something. “We oughtta head that way,” she spoke. Her voice was firm, but her eyes ever so slightly exposed the doubts she concealed. “Are you sure?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “Maybe we should take a look at the map.” Applejack was silent for a moment. “We ain’t using the map.” I blinked. “What?” “You saw the way Dash reacted when that tour guide was givin’ it to us. She’s got no intention of using it, so neither will we. The dare’s gotta be equitable for both sides.” “Applejack, this is crazy! We’ll get lost for sure!” My arms crossed over my chest. “You know Rainbow. If we use the map and make it out in less time than her and Scootaloo, she’ll use that against us.” “But – but,” I sputtered. “That’s unfair!” “And that’s exactly what she’ll say to us about using the map.” I groaned and didn’t bother restraining my gloved hand from slapping my forehead. “We’ll pull it out if we’re certain we can’t find our way around anymore,” she added. “But what if it’s too late by then?” I pressed, frustrated. To my annoyance, Applejack had already entered the tunnel. I gritted my teeth. “You know you’re being stubborn, right?!” My answer was a chorus of echoes, each one taking its turn to mock me. The passage was small. Its ceiling was low enough to brush Applejack’s hat, and I could almost touch its walls with the tips of my outstretched wings. My boots felt heavy and awkward on my feet. The scent of must, dirt, and mildew was pervasive in the air around us. Each breath I took seemed to have been amplified, and my heartbeat pounded in my ears. We did our best to move carefully and quietly. Echoes were harsh reminders of the predicament we had gotten ourselves in. As time passed, my eyes adjusted to the cave’s darkness. I dimmed the brightness of my headlamp. Its glow had ironically now become too bright for comfort. My attention wandered to little things that had been of insignificance to me only minutes before. Odd rock formations jutted out from the ground hither and thither, and moisture filled various grooves along the walls. If I listened closely, I could hear the muffled voices of ponies somewhere else within the cave. Tourist groups. I thought, cracking a smile for the first time that day. We weren’t alone. Everything would be okay. Applejack continued to lead the way. She moved at a fixed pace. Not too fast, but not slow enough to escalate the tension in the atmosphere. We took a turn. Left. Then right. Then left again. We walked onward, unsure of exactly where we were headed. Overtime, the ceiling became lower and lower. I found myself crouching down along with it. Inevitably, a dull pain developed in my lower back. Applejack’s pace slowed to some degree, and she kept changing the position of her body. Because she was bigger, I now realized, she was probably more uncomfortable than me. “You all right, Spike?” Applejack questioned. She made an effort to rotate her head and get a glimpse of me. “I’m good,” I said, stooping a little lower as I narrowly avoided a collision with the ceiling. “How about you?” AJ grunted. “I’ve been better.” Her flashlight, which had been slipping precariously from her saddlebag, clattered to the floor. She retrieved it with a sigh. “But I’ve been worse, I suppose.” “When do you think this tunnel will end?” Another grunt. “I dunno.” She didn’t say anything else, so I decided to keep my mouth shut. The walls joined in on the ceiling’s game, narrowing dangerously close on our sides. Together, they drastically lessened the size of the tunnel, attempting to suffocate us like a snake subduing its prey. A troubling thought suddenly crossed my mind. What if we reach a dead end . . . or worse, get stuck? I shoved it away immediately. We had to keep going. Applejack’s voice startled me. “Aw, shoot,” she muttered. She halted abruptly. I stopped behind her. “What happened?” I asked. My eyes darted around the tunnel. “We’ll have to crawl,” Applejack explained. She laid down to scan our passage ahead. “Yep. Gets even tighter down the bend.” I sighed. “We better do it then. Maybe we’ll find somewhere comfortable to rest!” Applejack pushed onward. “I here ya, Spike. I hear ya.” Several minutes later, we had finally encountered a wall in front of us. An end. The final stop. The tunnel had been terminated, and we had been deceived. Instead of suppressing anxiety like I had anticipated, I found myself in a fit of rage. Applejack sat beside me, hunched over and dumbfounded. Her breathing was slightly uneven, and strands of her mane either hung out of place or were plastered to her face with sweat. Caked with dust and dirt, her coat was turning a shade of brown. (Rarity would probably call it rust or amber.) “I just don’t get it,” Applejack wheezed. “I was sure this tunnel’d lead to someplace. For Celestia’s sake, we’ve been crawlin’ round here for at least an hour!” I rubbed my face forcefully with my hands. “It’s okay, Applejack. We didn’t know this would happen. But maybe we should use themap now?” Applejack removed both her helmet and hat to inspect them. I shook my head at the lack of response. Upon doing so, however, my eyes perceived something shiny on my right. Curious, I picked it up and held the object aloft in the light of my headlamp. It was a pebble, one made out of glass. My eyes widened in surprise and excitement. Somepony had probably dropped it by accident when they were exploring the cave. Slowly, I rotated the pebble in the light, allowing each and every spot on its surface to glow elegantly. I closed my fist around the rock, safely confining it from the outside world. A smile spread across my face. Of course, I intended to return the pebble. But if my attempts were to fail, it would be nice to know my expedition had rewarded me with a piece of treasure. I turned to Applejack, eager to inform her of my discovery. However, upon looking, I realized she was in a different spot than before. She sat quietly, peering down at something in the tunnel’s right corner. My first thought was that she had found another pebble. We could start a collection! Or maybe they formed a trail that would lead to an easy way out of here. Nonetheless, both ideas likely weren’t the case. “Applejack?” I called. “Spike, I found something,” she whispered back. Her tone was one of excitement. I crawled over to her and followed her gaze. She was staring at a small hole. I cocked my head at her, but her grinning, dirt-stained face was enough to tell me that there was something else about the pit that I was missing. (On the other hoof, maybe she was finally losing it like the rest of us.) Our headlamps illuminated what was visible of the hole – more rocks, dust, and eventually darkness. I finally caught on. “This is a bad idea.” Applejack rolled her eyes. “Yes, if we aren’t smart about it. Now, I heard somewhere that you can find out how deep a hole is by dropping a stone inside.” Her eyes scanned the area for a few seconds, but soon landed on my claws. Confused, I glanced down to see that I had loosened my grasp on my pebble and had accidentally revealed it. Before I could react, she reached out and grabbed the rock with a hoof. “Ah, you already found one. Thanks, Spike,” she said. “Wait, no!” I whisper-shouted. Unfortunately, it was too late. My precious stone was already plummeting down the abyss. My scream was hindered by the hoof shoved into my mouth. I glowered at Applejack, but she failed to notice. Clink. The pebble had hit the ground. Applejack nodded in satisfaction and collected her saddlebags sitting alongside the opposite wall. She fastened them to her midsection and increased the brightness of her headlamp. I, still fuming, found my voice. “AJ, what the hay?!” “I’m goin’ in. You stay right here till I call, you hear?” “What . . . but?” Applejack waved a hoof at me. “It ain’t that deep. That rock hit the ground in seconds.” “That rock-” I began, furiously. Applejack missed the rest. She was already far underground. Clutching the rim of the hole, I gazed down apprehensively. Applejack maneuvered around various rocks and squeezed through whatever crevices she could access. “Sweet Celestia, it’s really tight down here,” she said, making eye contact with me. “Hmm, here’s a good crack. . .” She wriggled downward until I could no longer see light being emitted from the hole. I waited, anxiously. A minute passed, then two. Still, there was silence. I thought about asking her if everything was okay when I finally heard her call. “I’m all the way down, Spike,” Applejack announced. She laughed. “It wasn’t that bad. There were only a few moments where I thought I was stuck.” Only a few? I thought, my skin prickling. “Are ya coming?” “Um,” I said, hesitating. “Are you sure it was okay?” “I’m sure. Now, quit being such a worrywart and come down. We have a time limit, remember?” A surge of adrenaline filled me. I had completely forgotten about that constraint. Lucky for us, if we hurried, we’d still have enough time left to make it out of the cave. “I’m coming!” I responded. I promptly slid into the darkness. Applejack was right. There wasn’t much space in here. In fact, I struggled to even rotate my body. Nevertheless, I persisted, knowing I couldn’t stay in the hole forever. Every now and then, I called out to Applejack to give her an update on my progress. At one point in my descent, I found myself wedged firmly between two rocks. Staying as calm as my mind would allow, I clashed with the obstacles, fighting to force myself downward. It took much effort, but I was eventually able to squeeze through with no more than pain and some scratches on my sides. I laid panting heavily on the ground when my downward climb came to an end. I was extremely grateful to be on a firm surface, and I would have hugged the stone floor if I could. The total trip had taken at least three times as long as Applejack’s. The pony in question stood by my side, smiling down at me. “Too much for ya?” she asked. I just groaned in response. She chuckled and shook her head. “You’ll be fine. Especially once you take a look around.” I heaved myself into a sitting position and attempted to figure out what Applejack meant. We were in a tall, long chamber, much more comfortable than where we were earlier. I swiveled my head around slowly to process our surroundings. Within time, I noticed tiny scribbles on the wall behind me. Rising slowly from the ground, I walked over to inspect them. Foreign characters and shapes took the place of what I had interpreted as doodles and scratches. They filled the center of the wall from where I stood to the nearest boulder, which was at least fifty feet away. Applejack approached me. “I guess that flyer was right. These must be them runes.” I nodded, mystified. “I wonder who wrote them. How old do you think they are?” Applejack shrugged. “Beats me. Do I look like a scientist to you?” I rubbed my chin in thought. “Oh! I should take a picture for Twilight.” After rummaging through my backpack, I pulled out the camera I had conveniently packed. A quick flash later and I had captured the writings. “Maybe she’ll have answers,” I said, as I stowed it away. We examined the runes for a few seconds longer. “That one looks like a . . . uh, a bird or somethin’?” Applejack guessed. “Looks more like a rabbit to me,” I countered. “Hmm, not seeing it,” Applejack replied, tipping her head to the side. I scratched my head. “Now that you mention it. . . Yeah, definitely not a rabbit.” “Huh, weird. Well, I’m gonna look at the ones over there.” Applejack gestured to the area farther down the chamber. “I’ll see if I can find a pattern or somethin’.” “Yeah, sure,” I said. I redoubled my thinking efforts. Applejack had a point. A pattern might help us understand what we were looking at. I went down the line of shapes. Letter. Wave. Rabbit-thing. Circle. Rabbit-thing. Wave. Wave. Then the symbols would change completely, forming figures I had never seen before. Carefully, I reached out to touch a rune. It was engraved deep inside the stone wall. Decoding the writing was going to be harder than I thought. We would probably have to give up sooner or later though. Otherwise, we would waste too much valuable time. No more than five minutes later, a low rumbling sound resonated throughout the room. Puzzled, I stopped inspecting the drawings and looked around me in confusion. The rumbling didn’t cease, as I hoped it would, but rather intensified. The old familiar feeling of dread crept throughout my body as I rose to my feet. Simultaneously, Applejack came thundering down the chamber. Her hooves clopped loudly against the ground and her eyes were wide and wild. “We gotta go, now,” Applejack blurted when she neared me. “What’s that noise?!” I cried. “No time,” she interrupted. Suddenly, she used her mouth to grab me on the back of my neck and sling me onto her back. I yelped in surprise and clutched onto her tightly as she sprung into full gallop. All the while, the deafening sound behind us grew louder. “Rocks,” Applejack explained as she ran. “There was a rockfall somewhere up past where I was standin’ earlier.” She leapt over a pit in the ground. “I saw some of ‘em boulders with my own two eyes. The ground slopes so they’re comin’ down our way.” Tentatively, I glanced backward. To my dismay, I could see the beginnings of the avalanche behind us. “Oh, they’re coming all right, and they’re coming fast!” I yelled over the cacophony of noise. Applejack picked up the pace. She flew down the hall, using all of her strength to get us to safety. I tried not to think about what would happen if Applejack fell. I tried not to imagine myself slipping from her back and crashing to the floor. Instead, I held my breath and prayed, doing my best to drown out the sounds behind me. I could hear the rocks growing closer. Yet Applejack had been at maximum speed for minutes and was even slowly starting to tire. My heart raced. A chunk of stone pounded me on the back. The sharp pain forced me to cry out loudly. Somehow, this invigorated Applejack, giving her a newfound boost of speed. The rocks tumbled faster as our slope suffered an even sharper decline. But our only escape route was downward, so downward we ran. Time seemed to crawl as we raced against death, and Applejack once again struggled to maintain her speed. Forcing myself to look ahead, I spotted another fork in our course. We had to make a decision within the next three seconds. Hesitation could mean the end. “Applejack, turn right!” I screamed. She didn’t argue. She may not have even heard me. But when we did approach the tunnels, my advice was heeded. The avalanche collided with the wall between the passageways in an explosion of rock, dust, and sound. In that moment, I was certain I had gone deaf. The ringing in my ears persisted for several minutes. All the while, Applejack tore down the hallway, afraid of ending our run too early. After some time, the tunnel ended abruptly and yielded to a wide-open space. The area was filled with a spectacular array of columns. Glittering stalactites and stalagmites created a display of awe and beauty. A sparkling river flowed through the midst of it all. As I jumped off her back, Applejack’s legs finally gave way. She sank to the floor, breathing heavily. Her expression though was one of relief. “Spike . . . I . . . I can’t tell you how lucky we are,” she sputtered. I hugged her tightly. “You saved my life.” Tears sprang to my eyes. “You would have done the same . . . if you were . . . in my position.” Her words were broken up by her breathing. “Thank you,” I said, standing up. “We’ll stay here for a while.” Applejack closed her eyes to rest. I could tell she wasn’t asleep though. She wouldn’t allow herself to do that. I decided to take another photo, this time of the river and mineral scene before me. As I did, something black appeared in the right corner of my eye. Unwilling to take any more chances, I spun around instantly. But, to my surprise, nothing was there. I scanned the area intently for a full minute. Nothing. There was nothing there. Perplexed, but still vigilant, I settled down on the ground beside Applejack and pulled out my reference book on caves. I would wait for her to recuperate before we made our next move. About a quarter of an hour and a water break later, Applejack and I stood before the flowing Blue Moon River. The shimmering body of water prevented us from crossing to the other side of the cave, where we could continue our journey. I looked to Applejack, who was in deep thought. “I have an idea,” she remarked. From her saddlebags she extracted a long piece of rope. “How’s that gonna help?” I asked. “See that stalactite up there?” “Yeah.” “I’m gonna wrap this ‘round it. Then, if it’s taut and rigid, we’ll swing. Got it?” “Got it.” “I’ll go first though, just in case.” “Just in case what?” Applejack started to swing her lasso, searching for a suitable amount of spin. She looked me in the eye. With a sharp snap, she threw the loop of the rope around the stalactite hanging from the ceiling. Applejack then pulled it tight, ensuring that it wouldn’t slip from the stalactite. “That should do it,” she said, the rope still in her teeth. She wrapped the lasso around her waist, ensuring that the hold was firm there as well. “All right. On the count of three,” she declared. “One.” “Two,” I continued. “Three.” She swung, her movement practiced and graceful. Applejack was halfway across the river when the unthinkable happened. The stalactite snapped from its place on the ceiling and plummeted into the water. Applejack plummeted into the river along with it. She yelped as she made contact with the icy blue water. Instantly, she clutched onto the nearest secure object – a large rock in the water. She held on firmly as water rushed past her. I could only stare, my mouth agape in shock. After a few seconds of valiant resistance, there came a point where Applejack no longer had the strength to hold on. She locked eyes with me. “I have to follow the current, Spike!” she yelled. “I can’t hold on no longer.” She let go of the rock. “I’ll be wherever the river lets up enough for me to get back on land,” she said as the river began to carry her. “Come find me when you can. Stay safe, Spike! Please.” Applejack drifted farther and farther downstream until eventually she was out of sight.