13. The Tithes That Bind
Rarity’s exposure to such establishments had only been through the descriptions in mystery novels, where ne’er-do-wells hung around nursing fancy juices until they were shook down for information. Ponyville had seen little need for a tavern, what with there already being plenty of meeting spots and a tight control on the flow of cider, and though she had seen bars on the streets of Manehattan and Canterlot, Rarity could never find the time nor muster the necessary curiosity to visit.
As her ears flattened against her head from the noise, Rarity wasn’t sure she’d go for a second experience. The place was only about half filled, with several open tables remaining, but what the ponies here lacked in numbers they made up in volume. Loud cheering there by a group making a toast, angry exclamations here from a bunch of card players, and laughs and calls for service in all directions as mares in aprons bustled by and shouted their responses. Dancers of varying proficiencies, from the rhythmless and uncoordinated to those who could rivaled Twilight in a competition for the most unique moves, demonstrated their skills in an open space before a lyre player barely audible over the din of her audience. The front lobby had been a posh garden soirée compared to the Pinkie Pie party that was here.
Rarity took a seat at the cleanest table furthest from the crowd, in a corner of the room. She doubted Clockworks and his family would appreciate the noise anymore than she did, and at least here she was able to hear her own thoughts. There was, however, an issue of receiving service from this position as the wandering waitress naturally orbited around the busier areas where much of their attention was being demanded.
“Be right with you, ma’am!” one of the mares called out to her as Rarity tried to wave her over. Rarity lowered her hoof. Well, as long as somepony acknowledged her and knew she was here. At least the musician was close enough to listen to while she waited. It wasn’t the perfect view, but Rarity watched the mare strummed the strings of her instrument. Despite the crowd and its noise, there was a clear melody to be enjoyed, a fast and cheery tune that roused the ponies on the dance floor and incited those watching to stomp along. Even Rarity suddenly found herself tapping away to the musician’s beat. The lyre was a rare and difficult instrument, and to be able to play something so energetic and fast paced in such a distracting environment suggested an impressive mastery.
And then there was the musician herself. Watching the mare work was nearly as captivating as her music. Her hoof brushed past those strings so smoothly, with no wasted or exaggerated movements. Her expression was calm with no sign of exertion or even focused concentration, as if making her lyre sing was as innate as breathing. Under a tiny feathered cap, the curls of her orange mane bounced with each pluck and wave. The edges of her lips lifted slightly into a small smile as her tempo slowed and shifted from the rambunctious anthem of a hoedown to that of something gentler, like one might hear during a ballroom intermission. Nopony seemed to mind; the dancers didn’t seem to notice and continued their frantic jumping and flailing even as the rest of the world slowed.
The musician’s eyes opened, and they met with Rarity’s. Rarity’s mouth grew dry, and her breathing quickened. Her heartbeat picked up as their gazes held. The mare’s lips parted, giving way to her voice as it introduced itself into the performance, adding the final touches to it that Rarity had no idea were missing. The tavern had gone quiet, the conversations and arguments muted in the presence of the musician’s angelic vocals. Whatever those lyrics were, whatever they meant, that didn’t matter. She could’ve sung through entries from a dictionary, could’ve insulted each and every member of her audience in a hymn, and the world would have still begged for an encore. And she, the source of such euphonious beauty, was staring directly at her, focusing on her with those dark green eyes that were like jade. Playing to her with a skill that would make the greatest string masters in Equestria weep in inadequacy. Singing to her in that wondrous voice that could have only come from the highest of—
“Ma’am?”
Rarity blinked. The harsh clamor of the tavern was back, drowning out most of the musician’s act. The mare was no longer singing and had returned to the earlier dance number, her face toward the stomping crowd. For a brief moment, Rarity felt an odd sense of disappointment that she couldn’t explain, but it soon faded, and she turned to the serving mare waiting on her.
“So, what’ll be?” asked the mare in the apron before her. “You, uh, new in town?”
Rarity nodded. Her throat was still dry, and she had to clear it with a cough. “I’m sorry. Could we start with some water?”
The waitress stared. “I, think? Probably? If not, will spiced cider do? We can warm it up if you like.”
“I suppose. And do you have any warm bread?”
“Can do. You want any cheese or potato soup with that. We might still have some baked taters and mash left, Horshire’s speciality.”
Rarity took a moment to consider. As tempted as she was to indulge herself, as starved as she was for something other than dried travel rations, Rarity had to make sure her funds would last her to and through Baldursgait. “Let’s start with a loaf of bread and four bowls of soup. All warmed up, please.”
“Of course,” the waitress said. “So that’ll be one cider, one loaf of bread, and four soups. Expecting company?”
Rarity nodded.
“Alright. I’ll be back with your order in a bit, and if any of your friends want anything else, just give me or one of the other gals a holler.”
The mare walked off to the side of the room, toward an opening that connected the kitchen area to the rest of the tavern. Rarity sat up and tried to peek through the crowd of carousing ponies to catch any glimpse of her fellow travelers, but her search turn up neither hide nor hair of the family of clock peddlers. Rarity started to worry.
Shouldn’t Pendula and Minutiae have already found their way in here? Or had Clockworks taken them with him and the inn owner to the barn. Well, Pendula was the one still attached to the cart, and given that Rarity had never seen anypony else besides herself drive the cart, it would make sense that Pendula had to go with them. Plus, with there being no way any responsible adult would allowed a young filly like Minutiae to go unaccompanied, Minutiae would’ve obviously gone with them to the barn as well.
Rarity let her worries subside. She wasn’t entirely sure how long it would take to get the cart in place, but Clockworks was probably prolonging the process by being his argumentative, ornery old self. Seeing no real reason for concern, Rarity relaxed and settled down, turning back to the dance floor where the lyre player was performing. A few ponies were still there showing off, but all they had to dance to were the laughs and jeers from their fellows. The musician was still there, but it appeared that she was done for the evening, with her instrument packed and she up and on her hooves.
Then, to Rarity’s surprise, the mare with the lyre made her way to her table. “Is there room for one more,” she asked, her voice as silk smooth and light now as it had been during her performance. If Rarity’s breath hadn’t already been stolen, the smile the musician gave her would have certainly done it.
“N-no, of course not.” Rarity motioned the mare to take a seat. “Please.”
“Thanks.” The mare sat and leaned a foreleg against the table. “Did you enjoy the show?”
“Very much so,” answered Rarity, nodding furiously. “I’ve never heard anything so—“
Beautiful? Wonderful? Amazing? Every adjective Rarity could come up with felt lacking. Her tongue, so experienced in the exquisite art of flattery, the sealer to so many difficult sales, had abandoned her, leaving Rarity to wave and wobble with her mouth agape.
The musician giggled. Even that was music. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” She hummed and tilted her head to the side. “Are you new to town? I’m sure I’d have remembered you if I’d seen you before. You have some, distinct features. All good, of course.” She tapped her chin as she leaned forward, her grin widening. “Oh yes, all very good.”
“O-oh! Well, th-thank you.” Rarity tore her gaze from the musician and looked around the tavern for her waitress, hopefully with a full tankard. She could really use that drink right about now; the room was getting awfully warm. “Er, sorry. What were we, oh right! Yes, yes I’m new. Just arrived tonight, actually.”
“Ah. Staying long?”
“Just passing through, I’m afraid,” Rarity said with a small, rueful smile. “We’ll be leaving in the morning. My group and I, I mean.”
“Is that right?” The musician sighed. “A pity. For such a quaint little town, Horshire has so much to offer.” She gestured to the tavern around her. “Hm. I know, why don’t I show you around, give you a quick tour?”
“Oh, I’d love to, but.” Rarity bit her lip as her face fell into a frown. “I’m sorry, but I need to wait for my companions, and we have an early start tomorrow, so I can’t afford to stay out too late.”
“The evening is still young, you know. We could catch all of the most interesting sights before it gets much darker. And as for your friends?” The musician chuckled. “You’re all staying here, correct? I’m sure reuniting with your traveling group won’t be all that difficult if that’s the case. I can even arrange to have some rooms set up for all of you if you don’t already have something ready.”
Those were some very compelling points, Rarity had to say. The musician was right, the inn did serve as their rendezvous spot, so meeting the family back here didn’t seem like that big of an issue. There was just the matter of being chewed out by Clockworks afterwards, though perhaps a hot meal and the prospect of a soft bed would mellow the old grouch of a pony out, not to mention the musician’s offer to have rooms prepared for them.
In any case, the lyre player’s company would most certainly be a welcoming change to having to spend any more time with Clockworks. Rarity didn’t know what sights this town had to show, but if it meant spending time with this master of a musician, she’d be a fool to refuse. And after all, what would Twilight and the rest of their circle say if they saw Rarity throw away a perfectly good chance to make a new friend?
“Lead the way,” Rarity said.
The musician smiled, and the two got up from the table and left the tavern area. They made their way through the front lobby and onto the streets outside. Rarity followed her guide down the road lit by the lanterns on the buildings’s doorways, passing by shops and ponies. It had been so long since Rarity had seen ponies out and about at night, she couldn’t help but find it a little odd, as silly as she knew that feeling was. The previous week had instilled or perhaps reinvigorate a primal fear of the dark and night, the same fears that plague her ancestors to the point of shunning the princess who represented those elements.
Thankfully, the hanging lights and visible signs of a nightlife, never mind how minimal, helped alleviate Rarity’s discomfort and return her thinking to that of her normal, modern self. Soon, she was curious to discover what the inhabitants here did when no longer under the watchful sun instead of being mystified.
“And here we are, our first stop,” the musician suddenly announced. Rarity turned to the building she was gestured toward and stared. Her guide sounded so proud when she pointed the place out, but Rarity struggled to determine what was so special about it. From a short glance, the building did not appear any different from all the other shops and residences. Like the other structures, it was of wood with the base and corners supported by stone, and from what Rarity could tell, it wasn’t much larger than its neighbors. There was no sign nor displays in the windows to explain the building’s purpose, and the windows themselves were blocked by curtains, hiding any clues the interior may have had.
From the way the musician was beaming at it, however, the building must have been special. Perhaps it was a historical monument, being of sentimental value to the townsfolk rather than having any tangible purpose. Rarity forced a smile. “It’s, quite nice,” she said.
“It is, isn’t it?” mused the musician. “Hard to imagine this was once an ugly, rundown bank. Well, let’s go.” She gave Rarity a soft nudge forward.
“What, inside?”
“Of course,” the musician said. “Don’t worry, they’re open. I promise you, this is not something you’ll want to miss.”
Rarity felt another nudge urging her onward. For whatever reason, her new friend seemed absolutely adamant in visiting this place properly, and her insistences were quickly coming across as oddly desperate. For a second, Rarity considered suggesting that they go somewhere else first, maybe where there were more ponies around, but it was only for a second. So what if the lyre player seemed a little enthusiastic? Obviously this place meant a lot to her and she just wanted to share it with somepony, Rarity thought as she allowed herself to be led inside.
Unlike the interior of the inn, this building was largely unlit, with only some candles on the tables to provide some dim light. Several of those lights were around a polished wood box with a slot cut into its top at the side of the room. Several ponies wearing white robes like the ones Rarity saw earlier were around attending to the surrounding candles, and some, seeing the presence of visitors, went over to welcome them.
“Yes, yes,” the musician said, cutting off the offered greetings and well-wishes. “Is Mother Shim in right now?”
“She is,” answered one of the robed ponies, “but she is in the middle of preparing for tonight’s sermon and is not to be disturbed.“
“Don’t worry, this won’t take long,” the musician said, and over the pony’s protests, she led Rarity around a long teller’s counter in the back that was split into sections with a series of gratings that blocked passage over the raised platform, and into a hallway going further into the building they went.
“Where are we going?” Rarity managed to breath out as she was pulled past door after door, room after room.
“Just going meet somepony. Don’t worry, you’ll like them,” the musician assured. “Ah, here we are,” she announced as they approached a door at the very end of the hall. As they drew closer, however, they made no show of slowing, and just as Rarity came to realize what the musician was planning to do, the mare had slammed her shoulder into the door, causing it to swing open and slam loudly against the wall.
A yelp and a second crash followed, and as Rarity followed the musician into the room, she saw that there was another pony in white robes lying on their back beside a writing desk with some scrolls, a feather pen, and a lamp that illuminated the room. They lifted their hood back to better glare at the intruders, revealing themselves to be a mare with plumb cheeks and her orange mane in a tight bun.
“What, what? Can’t you knock?” the mare demanded. Gold chains around her neck jingled against each other as she slowly got back up, and Rarity also noticed that the front of her robes were embroidered with similarly colored symbols. “This had better be important, I’m about to start soon. Is it about—“ Her eyes narrowed at Rarity, and she stopped herself. “Who’s this?”
The musician tutted and gave her head a little shake of disappointment. “Now now, be polite. After all, shouldn’t you introduce yourself first?”
The mare stared with a scowl firmly on her face. Her expression slowly softened as she let out a sigh and turned to Rarity, though Rarity noted that she kept the musician in her view. “My apologies. I wasn’t exactly expecting company to barge in, kicking in my door, so I hope my surprise is at least understandable if my slip in manners can’t be excused.” She released another sigh. “I am Mother Shim, the head of this holy community. And you are?”
“This, dear sister,” the musician said, placing her hooves over Rarity’s shoulders, “is an opportunity. One that might help us reach that breakthrough we so desperately need.”
Mother Shim raised an eyebrow. “How so?”
Now it was the musician’s turn to sigh. “Alright, if I really have to spell it out, look,” she said with an exasperated exhale. She released Rarity and made her way to the nun’s side. “See it’s like this,” she began and continued the rest of her explanation as hushed whispers.
Slowly, Mother Shim’s expression turned from one of confusion and skepticism to that of intrigue. “I see,” she muttered, rubbing her chin as she directed her studious gaze at Rarity. “Yes, that could work. And is she already...”
“Oh, most definitely.” The musician turned and smiled. Rarity smiled back.
“Alright then.” Mother Shim waved the whisperer away and stepped forward toward their guest. “Miss, we would like to ask of you a small favor.”
“A favor?”
“I assure you, it’ll be something small, and there won’t be much effort on your part, but if everything is done right, it could greatly benefit not just our organization, but the entire town.” The abbess held out her hoof. “Please, for the town of Horshire.”
Rarity, out of politeness, fought the urge to frown. First she was dragged to here without being any warning or hint about what this place was, and now she was being solicited? She had no idea who these ponies in robes were or what exactly made them so holy, but she doubted that any organization that needed to trick ponies into coming to them truly had the best intentions.
Not that Rarity was in much of a position to be much help anyways, what with she and her traveling party leaving early tomorrow. No, even if Mother Shim and her group proved to be trustworthy, even if their cause was truly for the benefit of the town, Rarity simply didn’t have the time to spare.
“I’m very sorry, but you’ll have to find somepony else. I don’t think I’m the right pony for this job.” Rarity took a step back. “I’ll just be on my way then. Thank you for showing me around.”
“Oh, on the contrary, you’re the perfect little pony for this little task,” the musician exclaimed. She slid over to Rarity and took hold of her foreleg. “In fact, we can’t do this without you. Won’t you reconsider?”
“You, you can’t do this without me? It has to be me?”
“That’s right.” The musician grinned as she tucked a hoof under Rarity’s chin and gently raised her head, forcing their eyes to meet. “Nopony else will do.”
“W-well then.” Rarity swallowed. “If it really isn’t too much trouble, I suppose I can help. I mean, at the very least I’d like to know what exactly I’ll be doing first.”
“Good, good. That’s all we ask.” The musician let Rarity go and returned to Mother Shim’s side. “Shim?”
“Right. Come here, miss,” the abbess called as she went over to the room’s wardrobe, walking over a green and red shag rug in the room’s center, and started to shift through its contents. “This should be around your size,” she said, holding some folded cloth out toward Rarity. “Hm, maybe a little big. Ah well. Here.”
Rarity let the cloth unravel in her hooves. It was a robe, white with the same decorative stitchings as Mother Shim’s.
“Now, all you have to do is wear that and stand next to us,” Mother Shim instructed. “Easy enough, no?”
“Is that it?” Rarity asked, looking down at the robe she held. “I just have to wear this and stand around?”
“And don’t forget to smile,” added the musician as she gave a demonstration and point to her cheeks. “Just give us a nice big smile, yes, just like that. Perfect.”
“Like we said, very little effort on your part.” Shim smiled as well. “So, what do you think? Can you do that for us?”
Again, Rarity stared at the white robe. It was as they said, just a small favor that wouldn’t require much out of her. She couldn’t imagine why they would need her of all ponies for this job or how exactly her standing about while wearing their organization’s uniform would benefit anypony, but even if they hadn’t been entirely truthful about helping the town, Rarity couldn’t see anything nefarious about such doing something so innocuous. If this was all they were asking of her, it wouldn’t hurt to lend a helping hoof.
A nod from the pony who had brought her here was the last push Rarity needed, and without another thought she tossed on the white cloth. Even with her traveler’s cloak and saddlebags on underneath, the robe was still a good half a size too large. The sleeves were baggy, and the hood when pulled over her head covered her eyes and much of her face. “Do you have anything, more to my size?”
“No, no, this is perfect,” Mother Shim declared. Rarity could hear the abbess’s steps as she came forward. “Yes, the surprise will be all the more impactful this way. Now, we should get going. We’ll be starting soon. Sister, do you have enough in you to prepare our other guest?”
“Not tonight,” said the musician. “But we shouldn’t need him, not when we’ve got her.”
Something patted Rarity’s back, the musician she presumed. “He was giving us trouble anyways,” she continued. “This is much better. You’ve got time to rework your speech?”
“No, not really,” Shim said with a loud sigh. “I’ll just have to improvise. Just like old times.”
“Just like old times.” The two shared a chuckle. “Well, come on then,” the musician ordered, directing Rarity with a push. “Let’s get going.”
With her vision obscured, leaving her with only a view of her own front hooves and the small section of ground they occupied, Rarity was left to navigate the dark building based on the verbal instructions of Mother Shim and the musician’s directive touches. They had left the room and made their way through the hall, and after a little time, they made it back to the front lobby.
Even with the hood over her eyes and ears, Rarity could easily tell that a crowd had gathered. Excited mutterings and whispers filled the room in such a way that it threatened to displace the air. Hooves and the ends of white cloth could be spotted stomping and swishing about within her limited, downward line of sight, and Rarity ended up uttering a number of pardons and apologies after several bumps, brushes, and prods. The bodies of ponies crushed against her sides as she tried to follow the hem of what she hoped was Shim’s robe.
As they continued forward, the whispers became more hushed and those accidental encounters became less frequent. The crowd had become less, well, crowded. Rarity saw fewer hooves, and those she saw hurrying out of sight as their owners scurried out of her way. Or more likely, out of Mother Shim’s way, given the mare’s apparent status. Suddenly, Rarity was stopped by a firm grip around her borrowed robes, and Mother Shim’s hem disappeared from her view.
“Wait,” she heard the musician say, along with the rustling of those around her. The whispers had quieted, and shortly after, the room went still. There still a few hisses and hushes here and there, but for the most part, everypony had gone silent. An air of anticipation that was almost palpable had taken the space that the noise had vacated as the crowd waited with breaths held.
“Brothers, sisters, friends of Horshire!” came Mother Shim’s suddenly booming voice. “Welcome to our sanctuary, to this hallowed dwelling of the Great Protector. May they watch over and bestow their blessing upon each and every one of you.”
The crowd stirred and responded with a mix of affirmations.
“We are gathered here tonight to reaffirm the deeds of the Great Protector, to remember the mercy they have shown to our town,” Mother Shim continued on, her voice shaking with conviction and emotion. “For without the Great Protector, this town would have fallen to the same fate of its neighbors. For without the Great Protector, this town would have been abandoned by those who called it home as fear overtook them. Oh, for without the Great Protector, this town would have been conquered, consumed by the great evil that has taken hold of this land. Oh yes, for if it weren’t for the Great Protector and their protection, none of us would be here, free to live the lives we wish, free from the tyranny of the enemy. None of the free creatures of Spiketopia would be able to, and so we who know of our great debt bring praise and glory to our Great Protector.”
“To the Great Protector!” the ponies chanted and stomped.
“One day, all of Spiketopia will know of the Great Protector, but for now we must focus on our home. There are those in this very town who reject the truth.” The crowd started to stir, but when Shim spoke of nothing more, they stilled and became quiet. “I know. I know how much it hurts, watching friends and family, ponies of your own blood, walk in willful ignorance. We have been ridiculed, looked down upon, viewed as less than equals. I know how much it hurts, how much this tests your trust and belief in the Great Protector. I know that there are some of us here with doubts forming in their hearts. I can see that our number has already fallen as a result of the mayor’s own crisis of faith and his embarrassing public denouncement.”
The murmurs restarted, and again they stopped as the gathered ponies waited for Shim to continue. “Those of us who do not suffer from such thoughts are blessed by the Great Protector, and I ask that you do not show anger toward your weaker brothers and sisters in faith. Likewise, be kind to your lost neighbors, to those who have yet to accept the truth, for one day, we shall all be united under the Great Protector’s name. Those who have turned away from the truth will be returned, and those who refuse to see or hear the truth will be forced to open their eyes and ears. Yes, brothers and sisters, that day is coming and coming soon, for the Great Protector’s power is growing, as is the evidence of their wondrous grace. As of tonight, all of Horshire will begin to understand.
“Please come forth, Sister Shmarity!”
The room exploded into loud whispers as Rarity was given a push forward. Slowly, as she kept a cautious eye on her steps, making sure her front hooves stayed within her confined view, Rarity made her way to where she thought Mother Shim stood.
“What did she say?”
“She can’t mean—“
“But, if it’s the Great Protector, then surely...”
The hushed exclamations from the audience weren’t making the navigation of this dark, cramped room any easier, but eventually, Rarity found her way to Mother Shim’s side, though the abbess had to hold out a hoof to stop her. Shim removed the hood covering Rarity’s head and face, and Rarity’s eyes were greeted by the light of so many candles. Rarity tried to shield herself from the sudden glare, but Shim forced her hoof back down, leaving her to blink away until her sight adjusted and she was able to keep her eyes opened while standing so closely to the light sources.
Now that she was so illuminated and her features were no longer contorting in discomfort, Rarity’s face was out and exposed for all in the room to clearly see. Rarity couldn’t make out any individual expressions from the crowd, which she could now see was smaller than she thought, maybe only filling about a third or so of the room, but the ponies here made their shock audible, with cries and shouts of disbelief that reached every corner of the room and so many gasps and even a smattering of shaky, unconfident cheers that more than made up their numbers with volume.
Mother Shim raised her hooves out toward her congregation, but even that seemed to fail to restore order as the ponies in front of her continued their spirited conversations amongst themselves. Shim frowned, and she brought her hoof to her throat.
“Children!” she roared. Rarity winced, and her ears slammed shut against her head. The entire building seemed to shake from the volume of that single shouted word. “Please, listen to me, and all will be explained. Calm yourselves. Still your hearts!”
The crowd, unable to compete with Mother Shim’s powerful voice, became silent and turned their attention to the front as Shim’s plea continued to echo against the walls.
“Thank you,” said Shim at a more moderate volume. “Brothers and sisters, let me explain. You did not hear me wrong, and your eyes do not deceive you. Princess Shmarity does indeed stand before you tonight. I, like you all, had thought the worst when the royal palace fell, that the princess had been lost to us. But look! Here she stands, not as a prisoner to that mighty evil but free, as free as you and I.
“But how is that possible, you may ask.” Mother Shim began to pace along the length of her stage, keeping her face toward her audience. “How? Dear brothers and sisters, you know how, for you know the truth.” Shim stopped to point into the crowd, letting her hoof linger on individual ponies before moving to the next in line. “Yes, it is by the grace of the Great Protector, the same grace that saved this town, that Princess Shmarity is with us, and because of your faith, you are the first to witness her. Give praise to the Great Protector who has saved Princess Shmarity! Let me hear you give praise.”
“Praise! Praise to the Great Protector!” the crowd cheered, stomping out a deafening applause.
“Is her presence here not evidence of the Great Protector’s power?” Mother Shim asked, now gesturing wildly at Rarity. “Those who deny the Great Protector’s grace, who claim that Horshire’s continuation is only a matter of luck, will they also say the same about the princess? Surely not. The time of revelation is upon us. Soon, all of Horshire will see the truth and come to accept the Great Protector as their savior. Soon, all of Spiketopia will know the truth.” Shim turned to one half of the crowd. “My brothers and sisters, are you with me?”
“Yes!” the ponies cheered.
Shim turned to the other half. “Are you for the Great Protector?”
“Yes!” exclaimed the other side.
“Will you help me and the princess spread this wondrous news? Will you help expand the Great Protector’s will and influence?”
“Yes!” came the crowd’s thunderous response.
Shim smiled. She took a couple steps to the side, motioned Rarity to follow, and swung her foreleg behind her, directing the room’s attention to the wooden box with the open top Rarity had seen earlier. “Then come, brothers and sisters! Come and give, so that the glory of the Great Protector may be expanded, so that our safety may remain secure.”
The crowd collapsed on itself as ponies rushed forward. Rarity was pulled out of the way just as the first wave of bodies swept over the stage and Mother Shim. “This way,” she managed to heard the musician say over the shouts and jubilant cries right before being dragged behind the teller’s counter and into the inner hallway.
“That went well,” the musician said cheerfully as she pulled Rarity along and shut the door behind them. “You did a brilliant job out there. We definitely couldn’t have pulled it off without you.”
“You’re welcome, I suppose,” Rarity replied. She tried to turn back to the front room, where the muffled sounds of the congregation could still be heard from. “Will Mother Shim be alright?”
“Oh sure. Don’t worry, she lives for this part.” The musician laughed softly. “But enough about her. I want to talk about you.” The two came to a stop as the lyre player twirled around to face Rarity with the biggest grin she’d seen on a pony outside of Pinkie Pie. “You were the star out there.”
“I-it was nothing. I mean, all I did was stand there, like you told me.”
“Yes, but you played that role perfectly,” the musician declared with a little gesture to emphasize. “And like I said, it was something only you could’ve done.”
“I, er, suppose. Well, if that’s everything, I should probably head back to the inn.”
“Hm? Oh, right. So soon?”
Rarity nodded and gave a sad smile. It had been nice, helping her new friends and the town, but she still had other obligations. “It is getting rather late, and I do have an early morning tomorrow. Not to mention, I’ve must have worried my traveling companions with my absence, and the sooner I explain that away the better.”
“Yes yes, all understandable, but do you really think going out right now is such a good idea?” The musician pointed to the door that led to front room and, subsequently, the exit to the building. “I mean, right now there’s an army of fanatics out there that think you are the princess. At their state, they’ll tear you to shreds or who knows what in their zeal.” She shook her head. “No, you’re better off staying here for the night, just to be safe.”
“But, my companions, they—
“Don’t worry, I let them know you’re safe, and you can just rejoin them in the morning,” the musician assured as she ushered Rarity along to a stairway behind one of the hall’s side doors. Lanterns on the wall led the way down to a section beneath the first floor where several crates and some spare cleaning supplies were held. The musician removed one of the lights and took it with her as she brought Rarity to the very back of the room.
They stopped in front of a set of closed doors. “Here, hold this,” the musician instructed, giving the lantern to Rarity while digging her spare hoof through the pockets of her shirt. She pulled out a key ring, and after unlocking the doors, the musician pushed her way in. “Come on, right this way,” she said, holding the door open for Rarity.
This next room was smaller than the previous one. There were a few boxes and barrels here as well, but most of the available space had been sectioned off by a wall of hardened cement, solid save for a long window blocked off by vertical metal bars as well as a large hinged gate made of iron that prevented any further access.
Through the barred window, Rarity spotted a figure hunched over and shivering in a corner. At the sound of their steps, she saw the figure raise their head and ears.
“This is where they kept the gold and such back when this place was a bank,” the musician explained. “It was empty by the time we took over, but it’s still in pretty good shape, and we’ve been keeping our most valued here. For their safety. You’ll, er, be having a roommate, hope that’s not too much of a problem.”
“I, suppose that’ll be alright,” Rarity said slowly. “Is this, truly necessary? I don’t mean to suggest anything, the room is lovely and all, and I don’t mean to question your judgement, but—“
“Good, good,” grunted the musician as she removed the gate’s heavy latch and looked through her ring of keys. “Here we go.”
There was a series of clicks followed by the creaking sound of turning gears as the metal gate slowly swung open. The figure charged toward the opening entrance, but before Rarity could shout out a warning, the figure yelled out and fell back as the musician pulled out a dagger from her sleeved and smashed the hilt into their face.
The musician sighed. “Stubborn old fool,” she said, shaking her head and turning to Rarity. “Sorry you had to see that, but don’t worry. He’ll behave after that.” She stepped to the side, making room for Rarity. “Well, go on and get yourself situated.”
Rarity did as instructed and stepped inside. The room was bare, with only a single cot to be found and an odd bucket in the corner. The floor was just as hard and as cold as the surrounding concrete walls, and the dull gray color of it all left the area with a drab, depressing appearance. She turned to face the musician just as the door closed shut and the locks clicked into place. The musician reappeared through the window, and with a bright smile, she said, “Give me a few minutes, and I’ll find you your own bedding. Let me also get you some supper, too. You must be feeling hungry right around now, huh?”
Rarity smiled, and as she started to nod, the temperature started to drop. Her blood turned cold and her stomach twisted at the sight of that grinning mare on the other side of the bars. Rarity’s body shook at that smug, mocking, haughty expression. Her own smile faded and became a snarl as she rushed to the window and slammed herself against the unmoving, metal rails that stood between her and the musician.