Samba let out a long, sleepy yawn as she rode the elevator up to the fifth floor of Limbo's apartment building. It had been a few days now since she started as her assistant, but she still wasn't used to waking up so early in the morning. Limbo eventually told her she didn't have to adhere to a strict schedule or anything, since most days were going to be slower than others, but Samba felt it was for the best if she tried to be punctual anyway, if only to make herself feel like she was at least somewhat reliable.
At least the downtime wasn't boring like it was when she would wait to go to work at the pub in the evenings. Even if the days were slow, Samba and Limbo spent most of that time either hanging out at Limbo's apartment, or walking around the city. Limbo claimed that they were "patrolling the streets," but stopping to see a movie didn't sound like patrolling to Samba. Then again, Limbo was pretty observant; who knows what kinda stuff she picks up in her peripheral vision?
Samba readjusted her saddlebags as she exited the elevator, making her way to Limbo's apartment. The door was already unlocked, as Limbo had made a habit of doing for her new partner when she got up in the morning. Limbo herself was in the kitchen pouring up a cup of coffee, though Samba couldn't tell how many she was on now.
"Morning, Limbo," Samba greeted lethargically.
"Morning," the zombie greeted back with a lack of enthusiasm herself.
Samba thought her tone odd. Limbo couldn't actually get tired, so it was unusual to see her without her signature optimism. But Samba felt like she'd come to know her well enough by now to know why she would be even a little subdued. Limbo had likely been looking over cases all morning. She tended to tune out the world when she was focused on a case. Samba was honestly a little surprised that she even managed to acknowledge her arrival.
Limbo started back to her desk with her refilled coffee, sitting down and quietly looking over a newspaper. Samba was about to inquire about what Limbo was busy looking into, but was distracted by a whistling sound that was steadily getting louder.
"What's that?"
"The kettle," Limbo asked without looking up for the paper.
Samba blinked uncomprehendingly. Out of curiosity, she went to the kitchen to investigate, finding a whistling kettle on the stove spewing out steam. Not only that, but there was a mug that read "My Other Mug Is A Barrel," a carton of milk sitting on the counter, and some sugar packets that looked like they'd been taken from a restaurant table. That was odd enough in itself considering Limbo took her coffee black and more bitter than a high schooler after getting dumped, but even more baffling still was the box of teabags.
"Um, is this a message?"
Limbo looked up to the confused unicorn. "What?"
Samba pointed to all the stuff on the counter. "Like, is this some sort of code you left for me to figure out? Are you trying to subtly tell me that something's wrong? Like somepony is threatening your life—er, undeath—and you can't say anything, so you have to leave cryptic messages to ask for help?"
Limbo just stared, bewildered by her logic. "No. It's for you. To make tea."
Samba continued to skeptically analyze the supplies laid out before her. "Is this a test?"
"What are you on about? I thought you knew how to make tea?"
"But are you checking to see if I would actually make one in your home?" Samba asked with paranoia. "Is it like that movie we saw the other day, where if I make the wrong choice it triggers a trap?"
"Jeez laweez, just make the freaking tea, for Celestia's sake," Limbo groaned in annoyance. "I bought that stuff for you because you don't drink coffee. Is this what I get for being considerate to my employees? Sheesh."
"Sorry, it just seemed a little weird. Considering how into coffee you are, I was convinced that tea was to you what garlic is to vampires."
"Yeah, well, I'm an accommodating vampire. Zombie. Whatever." Limbo observed as Samba prepared her tea. Not so much the act of tea preparation itself, but rather Samba herself. "You know, I could make similar comments about you this morning."
"What do you mean?"
"No makeup," she pointed out. "I know you never really go to town on yourself with the stuff, but it is pretty noticeable when you're not using any mascara or eye shadow. Not that I'm saying you don't look good without it, mind you."
"Oh, that. I actually have my makeup in my bags," Samba told her. "I figured it'd be easier to get here on time if I just did my makeup over here."
"And take time out of your work hours instead?" Limbo deadpanned.
"Um, w-well..." Samba stuttered, having not considered that and now a little embarrassed to be called out on it.
Limbo chuckled and flicked her hoof. "Relax, I'm not that uptight. Go put your face on."
Samba left her tea on the counter to cool, heading off for Limbo's bathroom. Limbo turned her attention back to the newspaper on her desk, the apartment falling silent once more.
Well, for a moment anyway.
"Eyah!"
Limbo barely reacted to Samba's shocked yelp, just furrowing her brow. "Webber! What did I tell you about hiding in the medicine cabinet? That's a quick way to get yourself squished. Uh, she didn't actually squish you, did she?"
"No, I didn't, but I was tempted," Samba called back. There was another moment of silence before Limbo heard Samba's voice again. "Are you really just gonna sit there and watch me the whole time?"
"Just threaten to put him in the tub. Usually works for me," Limbo suggested.
"I am not touching him. Hey! O-Okay, okay, I'm sorry! I wasn't trying to suggest you're dirty or anything, it's just... well, you're a spider. You've gotta understand that, right? Not everypony likes to have eight hairy legs crawling over them." She went quiet again. "Please stop staring at me. You're making me uncomfortable."
"Webber, leave her alone," Limbo told the spider.
Eventually, Webber skittered out from the hall, crawling up onto Limbo's desk. The green mare gave him a somewhat disapproving scowl, but couldn't keep the slight smirk of amusement off her face.
"I know it's fun to haze the newbie, but maybe dial it back a bit, yeah?"
After putting on her face, Samba returned. She pulled a chair from the kitchen over to Limbo's desk, opposite the detective. Limbo peered up, staring at Samba as she sipped her tea—or rather, slurped her tea. Loudly.
"It's not that hot," Limbo grumbled.
"Oh, sorry. Uh, no offence, but you seem to be in kind of a foul mood today. I'd ask if you got enough sleep, but that probably doesn't have any effect on you, huh?"
Limbo sighed and dropped her newspaper on the desk. "Just a little frustrated. I've been wracking my brain over the Sizzle Conifer thing, trying to find out what sort of creature could copy other creatures' magic. I had to settle for perusing old newspapers from a couple decades ago to see if Equestria has any lesser known allies, because apparently somepony took out all the books on the subject from the library already."
"Oh, yeah, that was me."
Limbo looked up in surprise. "Wait, really?"
"Mm-hm." Samba reached into her saddlebags, pulling out a few books on different creatures of Equestria and laying them on the desk. She noticed the look of disbelief on Limbo's face. "What?"
"Nothing, I just... wasn't expecting that."
Samba knit her brow, a little insulted. "I know I dance for a bunch of drunks at a bar for a living, but I'm not some dumb bimbo. I read from time to time. Mostly magazine articles, but that's beside the point. Anyway, I'm not doing much at home, so I figured, why not?"
"Well, great," said Limbo, impressed by Samba's initiative and relieved that the information may not have eluded her. "So, what did you find out?"
Samba frowned slightly. "Uh, well, not much actually. I mean, I only skimmed the books obviously, but according to these, any type of creature capable of what we're looking for either hasn't been seen in hundreds of years, or were villains defeated by the princesses at some point."
Limbo leaned on her hoof, disappointed by the news. "Figures. So we're back to square one, at least until we get some new info."
"I mean, isn't there a possibility that the Ghost wanted Sizzle Conifer for some other reason? I mean, we don't know one hundred percent that the motive is magic, right?"
"If it isn't magic, then the pattern of victims is one of the biggest coincidences I've ever witnessed. You know, barring Sizzle. But, on that note, we do have an objective today."
Limbo slapped a sheet of paper onto the table. Samba looked it over, and even Webber crawled over to check it out. It appeared to be an advertisement that would have been posted on a street lamp or the window of a corner store. It was colorful and plastered with images of stars and crescent moons. Flamboyant text was printed all over it, and Samba scanned through it all.
"'The Greatest Magic Show in Equestria'? We're going to a magic show?"
"Yup."
"I thought you said this was an objective. Sounds more like your using this as an excuse to slack off, like that movie."
"Keep reading."
Samba looked back down at the poster. "'Astounding and Awe-Inspiring Spells.' 'Unrivaled Feats of Magical Prowess.' 'Post-Show Meet 'n' Greet.'" Samba cocked a puzzled eyebrow. "A meet 'n' greet? That's kinda weird for a magic show."
"The whole thing is weird," Limbo commented. "It's not like the speculation about the Ghost's supposed motives isn't public knowledge. A lot of people have put those pieces together for themselves at this point. So then why would somepony be so careless as to openly boast about their magical talent?"
"You think they're gonna end up inadvertently making themselves a target?"
"I don't think there's anything 'inadvertent' about it. This advertising is way too blatant to not be deliberate. It sounds like somepony is setting bait."
"And you want to check it out to see if the Ghost takes the bait."
"The Ghost is too smart to fall for something so obvious, but you never know. It's probably in our best interest to head over there anyway. Not like we have anything better to do."
"Fair enough. It might even be fun," Samba said with an eager smile. "I might not be able to use magic very well myself, but I greatly admire people who can. Pira actually put on a magic show for me on my last birthday. It was pretty cute. I'd invite her to come with us, but if the Ghost has a possibility of showing up, that's probably not a good idea."
"The show's in a couple of hours at Canter Waterfront Park. So we'll go out for lunch after you finish your tea, then make our way over there to see the show."
***** ***** *****
It was around noon now. Limbo and Samba had briefly gone to the park before grabbing their lunch to assess the event they had come to attend. They chose to eat at a quaint little café within sight of the venue of the upcoming magic show.
Canter Waterfront Park was always a hot spot for people looking to relax. It offered a beautiful view of Horseshoe Bay, while also not being close enough to the wharfs to muddy the sights with large boats or the smell of fish. Flat, grassy meadows made a great place for picnics. Young couples or families frequently set up to have lunch under the cool shade of a tall tree, while others passed through on their morning jog. It was overall picturesque and peaceful.
But today was a little different. A sizable crowd consisting of a nearly equal mix of adults and children had gathered within one area of the park, hanging out near a structure that was not usually there. Set up smack dab in the middle of the park was a modestly sized stage that appeared to actually be an unfolded wagon, making the stage more compact and transportable when it was packed. The stage was flanked by purple curtains, and with the colorful, wooden cutouts, large, brass horns, and, from the looks of things, pyrotechnics, the comparatively small stage looked more like a circus sideshow than simply a platform for magic tricks. Nevertheless, it had done its job effectively and attracted an audience.
After finishing their lunch, Limbo and Samba decided to hang out around the stage with the other spectators until the show started. Neither of them were sure if the magician organizing the show was one of the people mingling amongst them, as the poster had been too cluttered with art and text to include an image of somepony, but more than likely they were backstage preparing since the show was set to begin soon.
"Hey, quick question," said Limbo to her partner. "As a unicorn, are magic shows even exciting for you?"
"I'm not exactly the best one to ask. I'm basically an earth pony with a horn."
"Yeah, but you said you admire ponies who are talented with magic. My question is, how interesting can a show like this be when tons of people can use magic?"
Samba pondered the question for a moment. "I guess it's more the spectacle of it. Show's like this are more about the visuals as opposed to showcasing practical spells, or using spells in creative ways to entertain an audience."
"Sounds like you've seen a few magic shows," Limbo inferred.
Samba blushed slightly. "I went to a few when I was younger... hoping that it might trigger something for my funnel horn. You can see how that went."
"Don't sweat the small stuff. Being an earth pony might sound lame, but there's all sorts of stuff we can do that pegasi and unicorns can't, like... Uh... We can... No, that doesn't work... Mmm... Gimme a sec, I'll think of something."
A small grin creased Samba's lips. "It's okay, Limbo. I appreciate the support, but I've pretty much resigned myself to being a subpar unicorn already."
"No no, hang on, it'll come to me."
A loud, mechanical click reverberated through the around surrounding the stage. A pair of spotlights had turned on, pointing the very center of the platform, though they didn't do a whole lot considering it was the middle of the day.
"Hold that thought. The show's starting," Samba whispered with only a hint of excitement behind her child-like grin.
The crowd in the area began to converge around the stage now that it was evident the show was beginning. A pink mist began to seep out from the stage, not so thick as to obscure everypony's vision though. The mist rose up above the audience and, to the surprise of the spectators, the light from the sun appeared to dim. A dome of magical energy surrounded the stage and the audience, and they watched as the bright blue sky suddenly appeared to darken to a dusky purple, giving the illusion that it was nighttime to anypony within the bubble—even tiny dots of light and an outline of a crescent moon decorated the dome to look like a starry, twilight sky.
"Whoa, that's so cool," Samba breathed in amazement. "I guess this is why they didn't bother to wait until night."
"Yeah, it's pretty neat," Limbo agreed, though not sounding nearly as impressed. "But it's just an illusion. Nothing too extraordinary just yet."
"Come on, can't you lighten up a little?" Samba chided with a smirk. "I know you came here because of the Ghost, but that doesn't mean you can't enjoy the show."
"This kinda stuff is for kids. I can't see there being anything here that'll really pique my interest."
The murmurs of the eager crowd died down when a mare's voice echoed from an unseen speaker somewhere on the stage, drawing all attention forward.
"Fillies and Gentlecolts! Prepare to be shocked and amazed by magical feats the likes of which your unenlightened eyes have never seen! Spectacles of unmatched prowess in prestidigitation! Not even your dreams could manifest the awe-inspiring sights that you are about to witness!
"Geez, get on with it already," Limbo grumbled under her breath.
"Now, feast your eyes upon the very incarnation of beauty, brains, and arcane talent! The one, the only! The Great and Powerful..."
A cloud of sparkly, purple smoke burst from the center of the stage, and once it dissipated, revealed a mare wearing a pointed, purple hat and matching cape decorated with stars. The mare reared up on her hind legs, loudly proclaiming her name to the crowd.
"Tr-r-r-ixie!"
The audience erupted in cheers and applause at the grandiose entrance, the light blue mare grinning unabashedly as she basked in their premature praise, flicking her silver mane. She appeared to be in no rush to actually start the show.
"Thank you, thank you, you're all too kind," the magician said. "A lovely audience like you deserves only the best from an equally lovely—ifnotmore—performer. Then, without further ado, The Great and Powerful Tr-r-rixie shall begin with a feat that would make other magicians weep, but is actually rather rudimentary for somepony of Trixie's level."
Trixie's show finally began, with the spectators hanging on every word she boastfully uttered, and their eyes amazed by her tricks and spells.
Limbo was probably the only member of the audience who wasn't smiling. Instead of allowing herself to simply turn her zombified brain off and enjoy the show, she scrutinized everything Trixie did, analyzing every spell to discern which were practical and which were merely illusions.
Conversely, Samba found herself practically unable to blink, her cheeks stretched by a child-like smile of wonderment as Trixie performed all manner of feats that Samba wished she could even attempt to replicate. Using teleportation to escape a chained box, creating copies of herself to distract the audience while she turned invisible and reemerged from the crowd, amongst a plethora of other impressive feats. For all of her boasting, she appeared to have the talent to back it up.
After approximately an hour of spells, illusions, and pyrotechnics, Trixie took center stage again to address the crowd. "That's it for this afternoon's performance! But fear not! The Great and Powerful Tr-r-rixie shall be doing an encore performance later tonight for those who haven't had enough of her. As though it were possible to have enough," she laughed. For as steady as her voice and posture were, it was hard to miss the sweat glistening on her forehead under the spotlights as she removed her hat and bowed to the audience. "Until then, so long!"
Trixie reared up onto her hindlegs in one last display of showmanship, the stage setting off a light show of twirling sparks and flames, and Trixie disappeared just as she arrived: in a cloud of purple smoke, leaving the stage empty once again.
With the show over, the twilight veil surrounding the audience dissipated, forcing the spectators to cover their eyes as they adjusted to the natural light of the sun again. The crowd began to disperse, though about half the people that had attended the show stayed within proximity of the stage, likely for the promised meet 'n' greet from the posters. Regardless, the excitement of the performance lingered in the form of raucous laughter and play from the overstimulated children.
Samba was among those still riding the high from the show, a big grin plastered on her face. "That was incredible! She was there, then she was there, and then there were two of her, and that light show at the end! She was casting those spells like they were nothing!"
"Yep, pretty high level stuff."
Samba's enthusiasm faltered slightly. Limbo's lack of any real reaction to the whole show took some of the wind out of her sails. "Come on, you had to enjoy it at least a little bit, right?"
"Didn't you notice anything odd about the spells she performed?"
Samba tilted her head. "Uh, that they were amazing?"
"In a sense. But what I'm referring to specifically is the fact that practically every spell she showcased were spells known by the individual victims of the Ghost. Teleportation, duplication, transmogrification, etcetera. I guess you were a little too absorbed in the spectacle to heed it."
Samba's eyes widened, glancing around cautiously as she responded in a hushed, but shocked tone, "Wait, do you think she could be the Ghost?!"
"I highly doubt that. She's drawing too much attention to herself, but that does add credence to my previous suspicion."
"That she's trying to get the Ghost's attention, right?"
"Yeah, for whatever reason."
"Maybe she's an undercover cop setting a trap for the Ghost," Samba speculated.
"She doesn't look like any of the cops from the B.P.D., so unless she's an officer brought in from another city, I don't think that's likely either. I want to have a chat with her to figure this out."
Samba's excitement came back in full force in the form of a giddy smile. "Really?! Okay! But we should get in line quick so we don't have to wait too long!"
"Geez, you really are excited after—whoa, hey!"
Samba grabbed Limbo by the leg and practically dragged her over to the line that had begun to form next to the stage.
"Okay, I get it, you're a kid at heart," Limbo chuckled as they found their spot.
"I'm more excited in Pira's place. She's gonna be so stoked when I tell her about this. Maybe I can bring her out to the encore performance tonight."
"Sure, sure, but business before pleasure, yeah?"
Limbo and Samba waited patiently and impatiently in line, respectively. There were about a dozen of so people ahead of them, extending around the corner to the back of the stage, but they had no idea how long they'd actually be waiting. Samba fidgeted incessantly, still charged from the performance like an excitable child. She wanted to keep gushing about how much she enjoyed the show, but judging by the annoyed grimace on Limbo's face, she assumed her companion didn't want to hear any more of it. So, instead, she focused her attention to one of the other eager fans. Specifically, the grey unicorn stallion standing in line behind her, with an ashy white mane and a cutie mark depicting a half-melted candle.
"This is exciting, isn't it?"
"Huh?!" The stallion jumped at the sound of her voice, fumbling a thoroughly crinkled piece of paper he'd been reading and dropping it on the ground.
"Oh, sorry. Didn't mean to startle you. Let me get that," she offered kindly.
"N-No!" The stallion scrambled to retrieve the paper before Samba could, stuffing it haphazardly into his saddlebags. "I-It's private."
Samba held up a hoof in an effort to calm the clearly jittery stallion. "Alright, but I wasn't gonna read it or anything." She observed as he sighed shakily. The guy was sweating bullets. If she had to guess, he was probably pretty young, maybe fresh out of high school. Samba had seen guys similar to him when she was in school, and had a feeling she knew what might be up with him. "Are you nervous?" she assumed with a friendly smile.
"N-Nervous?! Wh-Why?! I'm not doing anything!" he practically shouted.
Samba took a step back. "I... didn't say you were. I just figured you were a little on edge about meeting Trixie."
The stallion wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Uh, you c-could say that."
Samba smirked. All the telltale signs were there. The flushed face, the profuse sweating, the nervous stammer. It looked as though somepony had been bitten by the love bug. "Lemme guess: you've got a crush on Trixie."
The stallion blinked blankly. "Huh? A-A crush?"
"I get it, trust me. Lots of guys get nervous when they're preparing to talk to their crush because their afraid of being shot down. Believe me, I've had to see the look of dejection on plenty of guys' faces when they confessed to me and I had to gently let them down. The important part is to not let it get to you. Just having the courage to admit your feelings will make you a better, stronger person."
The stallion just stared at her, looking more than a little bewildered. "Uh..."
"I mean, I'm not saying she'll definitely say no or anything. You won't know that until you tell her. I just want to help you be prepared in case she does, you know? I mean, she's, like, twice your age, I'd wager. I'm not judging or anything, age is just a number, but the gap in maturity might be something to keep in mind."
"Umm..."
"Maybe keep your nose out of other people's business, cupid," Limbo chided.
"What? I'm just offering some advice. Shy, young stallions have a hard time with stuff like this. Besides, aren't you about to be getting in other people's business too?"
"I'm a detective, it's my job to get in people's business if it's related to a case."
"A-A detective?" the stallion stuttered quietly.
"If you ask me," Limbo continued, "I wouldn't exactly be receptive of advice offered by a random stranger. I think you're weirding the kid out."
Samba looked back to the stallion worriedly. "Oh, am I weirding you out?"
The stallion hesitated, taking a small step back. "A-A little..."
"I'm so sorry," Samba apologized, her mood suddenly becoming more sullen. "I was just trying to help, but I guess I'm not really in any position to be offering relationship advice myself..."
"Let's just focus on the task at hoof, Samba," Limbo suggested. "Let the kid do whatever he wants and don't worry about it."
"Alright," Samba agreed, facing forward once more as the line moved ahead, and the stallion said nothing else.
It took some time, but eventually Samba and Limbo were on the cusp of getting their turn to meet Trixie. The line of people lead to a door that appeared to go backstage of the unpacked wagon. Once the last person ahead of them came out from the door—with a rather mixed expression on her face, for some reason—it was finally Samba and Limbo's turn. They politely knocked on the door.
"Come in," came the somewhat exasperated-sounding voice of Trixie from within.
The two did as she said, quickly noticing how cramped the space was, not just because half the wagon was comprised of the stage, but also because the actual living space within the wagon was cluttered with all sorts of junk, mostly props, though Trixie hadn't used much of this stuff during today's show.
Trixie herself was seated on a small stool at an equally small vanity, hat removed, but still wearing her cape. She looked a tad weary, her silver mane a bit unkempt as she attempted to fix it with a hairbrush. She briefly glanced at the pair of mares who had entered, clearing her throat and addressing her guests with a somewhat subdued version of her on-stage personality.
"Welcome to The Great and Powerful Trixie's abode. A pleasure to meet you," she greeted in a rehearsed drone.
Limbo was about to speak, but was quickly cut off by Samba.
"Hi, Trixie, I'm Samba, this is Limbo. I just wanted to say your show was amazing!"
That comment seemed to instill a little more emotion into Trixie's demeanor, holding her nose up with a satisfied grin. "Yes, well, such is to be expected from one as talented as I."
"I really envy people like you. I can't use magic very well because I have funnel horn, but I really enjoy watching people who can. And you don't even charge people for watching!"
Trixie held a hoof to her chest modestly, though the persistent smirk of self-satisfaction belied that modesty. "It would just be unfair not to share such talent with the masses. That being said, donations are still appreciated." She held her hat out upside-down and waited, but neither of them seemed to bite, just staring awkwardly, so she retracted it with a grimace. "Well, anyway, it's always heartwarming to meet new fans, and I hope you'll come to tonight's performance as well."
"Definitely!"
Limbo just rolled her eye as Samba gushed. But her sight ended up landing on a framed photo sitting on the vanity depicting Trixie shoulder-to-shoulder with a light purple unicorn mare. The magician looked a lot younger in the photo, indicating it was a rather old picture. But it was the other mare in the photo that caught Limbo's attention.
"Hey, isn't that Starlight Glimmer in that picture?" Limbo asked.
"Hm? Oh, yeah, that's Starlight. Why?"
Samba's ears perked up at the mention of the name, staring incredulously at Trixie. "Wait, you mean the headmare of the School of Friendship? You met her?! That's so cool! She's one of the most powerful unicorns in Equestria!"
Trixie quirked an eyebrow, as though her surprise were unwarranted. "Met her? Starlight's been my best friend for years."
"Seriously?!" Samba blurted in amazement. "That's crazy! How'd that happen?!"
Trixie narrowed her eyes at the pair of mares. "Wait, do you two actually not know who I am?"
Samba and Limbo shared puzzled looks before shrugging.
The magician's mouth hung agape, insulted by their ignorance. "Are you serious? Hello? The Great and Powerful Trixie. As in, savior of the Changeling Kingdom. You can't tell me you never heard about that. I swear, kids these days have no respect."
"I'm pretty sure that Starlight Glimmer was the one responsible for reforming the changleings, along with Discord and Thorax," Limbo stated.
Trixie flicked her hoof dismissively. "Sure, they helped a little, but it wouldn't have been possible without me by their side."
"Wait, hang on," Samba said, eyeing up Trixie. After a moment, her eyes widened in realization. "Ah! Actually, I have heard of you! You work at the School of Friendship too, right? As a... guidance counselor, I think?"
"Yes, that's right," Trixie answered, visibly relieved that she'd been recognized.
"How do you know that?" inquired Limbo.
"Before we realized how talented Pira was with magic, me and Rhapsody were gonna try enrolling her at that school, so we did our research." She turned back to Trixie quizzically. "So what are you doing performing magic shows in Baltimare?"
"It's summer break right now, so the school's closed. Besides, I became a guidance counselor to help my best friend. My true passion is performing for my adoring fans," Trixie claimed with a sweeping flourish of her hoof. "Truth be told, shows like this have been becoming more and more taxing as I get older and continue to put on shows more bombastic than the last, but I have to do something during the downtime to stave off the boredom and prevent my skills from growing dull."
"Well, you certainly picked a bad time and place to flaunt your talent," Limbo commented bluntly.
Trixie scrunched up her nose with a huff. "What ever makes you say that?"
"Alright, enough feigning ignorance," Limbo said, exasperated by this whole situation. She flashed her detective's badge to Trixie. "I'm a private detective, and I want to ask you some questions, Miss Trixie."
"No need to be so formal. You can call me The Great and Powerful Trixie."
"Not happening. Now, my first question: Have you heard of the Ghost of Baltimare?"
Trixie hesitated, sneering at the inquisitive mare. "And what if I have?"
That response was sufficient enough to confirm Limbo's suspicions. "The details of those kidnappings have pretty much become public knowledge at this point, so it baffles me as to why somepony would choose to hold a magic show in this city with the Ghost out there, and, not only that, choosing to showcase almost exclusively spells known by the victims."
"What exactly are you insinuating, Detective?" Trixie asked, continuing to deny any suspicion.
"Well, perhaps I'm a little off base here, but if I didn't know any better, I'd think that somepony were deliberately trying to make themselves a target."
Trixie pouted indignantly, but said nothing.
"You're not actually trying to get the Ghost's attention, are you?" Samba asked worriedly.
Again, Trixie stayed silent, but the broken eye contact and frustrated shade of red in her cheeks said it all. "If this 'Ghost' person is targeting talented spellcasters, then surely The Great and Powerful Trixie would be too tempting a target to pass up, right?"
"Why do you want to be kidnapped?" Samba inquired, puzzled by her logic.
"She doesn't want to be kidnapped, she just wants to be targeted," Limbo postulated. "Given the boisterous performance we just watched and even this brief conversation, it sounds to me like she's trying to be targeted in order to validate her own self-inflated ego."
"That's awfully presumptuous of somepony you just met, don't you think?" Samba said in Trixie's defense.
"It's all perfectly logical when you think about. She clearly has magical talent."
Trixie's prideful smirk returned in full force at the compliment. "Well, at least you recognize that much."
"But then why haven't we heard about her before?"
And the wind was taken out of Trixie's sails just as quickly.
"You only heard about her because she works at the School of Friendship. So my question to her is: Where did you learn those spells?"
Trixie huffed, lifting her nose at the question. "What do you mean? Did you not just say I had talent?" She watched as Limbo just raised a skeptical eyebrow. Trixie sighed reluctantly. "Starlight taught me. There, I admitted it. Is that what you wanted to hear?"
Limbo nodded, having suspected as much. "Starlight Glimmer is practically a celebrity and a national hero. It makes sense that her best friend would end up relegated to living in her shadow and coveting that notoriety. I've seen it before. Some people will go to some real extremes to make a name for themselves."
Trixie flicked her hoof dismissively. "Make all the accusations you want, they're completely baseless. Now then, if you're done interrogating me, there are more of my adoring fans still waiting to meet me. That's all the validation I need."
"I'm so sorry about her," Samba apologized in Limbo's stead. "She's just really serious about the Ghost case since her best friend was one of the victims."
Trixie actually managed to give Limbo a sympathetic look upon hearing that. "Is that right?" She attempted to act aloof, but it was still evident that she wasn't entirely self-centered. "Hm, well, in that case, I'll overlook your harsh words this time. Here." Trixie grabbed a glamor shot of herself from a stack on her vanity, stamping it with her hoofprint to sign it and offering it to Limbo. "I normally charge for autographed photos, but I'll give you this one for free to show there's no hard feelings."
Limbo reluctantly took the photo. "Thanks," she said, though rather disingenuously.
Samba eagerly pulled out her spellphone. "Oh, could I snap a pic of the two of us to show my daughter."
"Sure. Ten bits."
Samba's enthusiasm deflated pretty quickly, slipping her phone back into its sleeve. "Oh. Uh, maybe I'll wait until I bring Pira tonight, then."
"Come on, let's go," said Limbo as she stepped out the door.
Samba briefly flashed a friendly, albeit awkward smile back at Trixie before following Limbo. "It was nice meeting you."
As they were leaving, Samba briefly crossed gazes with the jumpy stallion that was in line behind them, now next to meet Trixie. She felt bad about making him feel awkward before, so she wanted to offer one more vote of confidence to help him out. "Good luck," she whispered with a sly wink.
The stallion just gulped, looking perhaps even more nervous than he was prior before taking his turn to meet the magician.
Samba gave Limbo a reprimanding glare. "You know, you didn't have to antagonize her like that."
"She's willingly putting herself in danger just to stroke her own ego. It's reckless. I used to be a cop, so it's my prerogative to talk people like her out of doing dumb crap just to prove a point. Besides, you should be on my side. You can't tell me you weren't a little disappointed by her attitude."
Samba pouted, breaking eye contact. "She did seem a little... self-centered. I mean, ten bits for just a picture? I'll pay that for Pira, but maybe not for myself. But the show's free, so is it really that big a deal?"
"Well, then, you might as well have this since she's your new hero and all," Limbo mocked, passing the autographed photo to Samba.
"I'll probably just give this to Pira too." Samba stared at the glamor shot, the photo depicting Trixie with a now familiar-looking smirk of self-satisfaction. "Or maybe I'll just let her pick her own role models. Hey, maybe you should keep this. You can stick it up on your wall for when she gets kidnapped," Samba joked.
"Pfft. First of all, I wouldn't be caught dead or alive with that hanging on my wall. Despite what you might think, I have taste. Second, there is no way in Tartarus the Ghost would even consider targeting her. For one thing, Trixie only really showcased spells known by the current victims, so what reason would the Ghost have to go after her? And another thing, she's best friends with Starlight Glimmer. We've talked about this before, but the Ghost hasn't had any high profile targets, and Trixie's association with somepony like Starlight would put her in that category. If the Ghost, for some Celestia-forsaken reason, actually kidnaps Trixie, I'll eat my badge."
"Speaking of which, where is your badge?"
"Hm?" Limbo glanced down at her leg, the strap that usually held her wallet—which her badge was in—was bare. "Oh, crud, I must've left it in Trixie's wagon," she groaned.
"Real professional," Samba deadpanned sarcastically.
"Shut up. Having to go back there is punishment enough. I don't need you ragging on me," Limbo grumbled.
The pair turned back to return to the park. However, when they made it back to the stage, they noticed that there was no longer a line leading around to the back for the meet 'n' greet. That was odd considering there was still a sizable number of people waiting to meet Trixie when they left.
Finding the lack of people strange, Limbo pulled aside the nearest person that she recognized from the line. "Hey, where'd everypony go?"
The mare shrugged, looking disappointed herself. "Apparently Trixie cancelled the meet 'n' greet early. No idea why. Sucks too. I was gonna try and see how much I could sell a signed photo for."
"You probably couldn't sell 'em for as much as she charges for 'em," Limbo muttered under her breath.
At the very least, the lack of people meant they didn't have to wait again, so Limbo walked right up to the door and knocked.
"Hey, Trixie. It's Limbo. I think I left something in there. Can we come in?"
There was no response.
Limbo pursed her lips. "That's weird. There's no way she can't hear me."
"She's probably giving you the cold shoulder for the way you talked to her," Samba scolded.
"Would you give it a rest?"
"You might've hurt her feelings. Just try apologizing."
Limbo groaned loudly. "Ugh, fine. I'm sorry if I was a little aggressive, Trixie. Now, can you open up, please?"
Again, no response.
"You don't think she cancelled the meet 'n' greet because of us, do you?" Samba wondered remorsefully.
Limbo banged on the door more loudly. "Alright, stop being such a drama queen. You're not that upset."
Nothing.
Limbo grumbled in frustration. "Okay, I'm done being nice. My badge is in there, and I really need it back, so I'm coming in with or without your permission."
Doing just as she said, Limbo opened the door. But, much to both of their surprise, Trixie was nowhere to be seen.
"The hay? Where'd she go?" Limbo pondered as she looked around. There was one other door that seemed to lead out to the stage, so she poked her out there to check.
Samba glanced to the vanity, spotting Limbo's badge sitting there. However, as she made to pick it up, she spotted a crinkled sheet of paper sitting there as well. She picked it up to read it, too curious to ignore it as all the text on the paper seemed to consist of words and letters cut from a magazine. Her eyes widened as she read it. "Uh, Limbo?"
The detective turned back, Samba holding the note out to her. "What's this? A love letter or something?" She began to read it aloud.
"'Ive Taken TriXie. If you want her ReLeased unHaRMed, bring 50000 biTS to Baltimare harBOur tonight.'"
Limbo just stared in utter disbelief at what she'd just read. "You've gotta be kidding me..."
Samba held out the badge to Limbo. "Want me to see if Trixie's got any condiments lying around?"
***** ***** *****
Samba and Limbo had attended Trixie's magic show under the pretense of investigating the Ghost of Baltimare, but neither of them actually expected the magician to disappear. Yet here they were, walking down the street with purpose in their steps and a ransom note in their possession.
They were back uptown now, not far from town hall. The entire walk, Limbo wore a disgusted grimace on her face. Samba inferred that she was just sour about being wrong that the Ghost wouldn't target Trixie, but didn't harp on it to avoid putting her in an even worse mood. So, instead, she decided to voice another question.
"Where are we going anyway?"
"Somewhere I'd rather not visit if I had a choice," Limbo answered with disdain in her voice. "A place so disgusting and brimming with the least trustworthy people that nopony should have to set hoof in there if they can avoid it."
They stopped in front of a brick building, the sign on the side displaying the city's coat-of-arms and the same seal one would find on the side of Baltimare's law enforcement carriages, several of which were parked nearby.
"The Baltimare Police Department..." Limbo uttered, venom dripping from her tongue.
"Why are we here?" Samba asked curiously. "You're a detective. Can't you just investigate Trixie's disappearance?"
"I'm a private detective. That basically means that, unless I'm specifically hired to investigate something, I'm just an ordinary citizen. And as an ordinary, upstanding citizen, it's my sworn—albeit reluctant—duty to report any crimes I witness to the proper authorities. For as little as it might actually accomplish in the end. But, on the bright side, you'll finally have a chance to see things from my perspective."
"I choose to temper my expectations," Samba told her. "I still think you're exaggerating."
"Well, we'll see, won't we?"
Limbo lead Samba inside to a reception area with only one officer seated at a desk. Limbo just ignored him and made straight for the door past him. He pushed his chair back and reached out a hoof to stop her.
"Hey, you can't just—"
"Shut up, Punch. How many times we gotta go through this?" Limbo snipped.
The stallion meekly backed off with a sigh as Limbo went on her way. Samba slowly followed behind her, giving the guy an apologetic look, but the officer didn't even bothering to try and stop her from proceeding.
Beyond the door was an office space for the station's many officers, with several desks, filing cabinets, and a very familiar scent of coffee hanging in the air. Of course, many officers were also present, either doing paperwork or just loitering and chatting idly. While there were mostly ponies in uniform here, there were a couple of other creatures as well, such as a pair of griffons.
"Well, look what the cat dragged in."
A bat pony stallion with a dark grey coat, midnight blue mane, navy blue uniform, and a mocking smirk sauntered over to Limbo with a cup of coffee in his hoof, casually taking a sip as he stared challengingly at the former officer.
"You need to get some new material, Owl," Limbo deadpanned with a scowl. "Seriously, you say that every time I come here."
"Then maybe consider not coming here if it bothers you so much. Or you could stop showing up looking like a mauled rat. Really, it wouldn't kill you to run a comb through this mess you call a mane," he teased, flicking a few of her short, brown strands with his hoof.
Limbo bat his hoof away indignantly. "You know, I'll never understand how you don't have a girlfriend, Owl," she mocked sarcastically.
Her insult didn't faze him. Instead, he turned his attention to the other mare standing behind Limbo, shoving the detective aside to approach her. "Speaking of which, who is this lovely filly?"
Samba took a slight step back, which was enough to indicate to the officer that she wasn't interested, though that didn't affect the playful smile on his face. "I'm Samba, Limbo's assistant," she introduced with an affable grin, offering her hoof.
The officer kindly shook her hoof, but glanced over his shoulder at Limbo. "You're hiring help now? What happened to all your boasting about being more competent than the entire force put together?"
"I owe her a favor, let's leave it at that," Limbo answered.
"Anyway, name's Night Owl. Sergeant Night Owl. No doubt Limbo's been talking a lot of smack."
"Yeah, but I'd rather form an opinion for myself," said Samba.
"Good to hear."
"To be fair, Owl's pretty much the only competent officer on the force," Limbo admitted.
The three of them glanced over at some of the other officers in the room. One stallion was stuffing his face with potato chips and making a mess of his desk; a mare was kicking back and filing her hooves; one stallion was frantically trying to fix another's tie, which was too tight and turning his face blue; another still had somehow managed to get a pencil stuck up his nose.
Owl grimaced at the pitiful sights. "Unfortunately, I can't say she's entirely wrong. But it's different when we're out on patrol, I'll have you know."
"Oh yeah? Who's out right now?" Limbo inquired knowingly.
"None of your business," Owl sneered.
"Let me guess: Paddy and Siren?"
Owl narrowed his eyes at her. "What of it? They're fine officers."
"Sure, sure. You know, assuming they're not at the salon right now."
Owl sighed in annoyance, plopping himself down at a currently empty desk. "Alright, I know you didn't just come here to sharpen your fangs on us. So what do you want, Limbo?"
Limbo slapped the wrinkled ransom note on the desk. Owl picked it up and looked it over for a moment before turning his eyes back up at her indifferently.
"This isn't the Ghost, Limbo."
"Yeah, no doi. If it was, I wouldn't have bothered coming here."
"It's not?" Samba questioned in surprise. "I thought that's what this was about."
Owl ran a hoof through his mane. "I'll give you a pass for not knowing, seeing who your boss is, but you should know that the Ghost has never left a ransom note, or any evidence for that matter."
"Of course I told her that," Limbo corrected. "The issue is that this Trixie chick was deliberately trying to get the Ghost's attention."
"So what you're suggesting here is that somepony kidnapped her looking to imitate the Ghost. Is that it?"
"If they were trying to imitate them, they wouldn't have left this note, unless they have no idea what the Ghost is about. I came here because me and Samba were the ones who discovered the note and her disappearance. Plus, this Trixie character apparently has ties with Starlight Glimmer and, by extension, Princess Twilight. I figured that'd be enough incentive for you guys to get off your butts and look into this."
"Being a little hypocritical, ain't ya? What, can't be bothered with anything that doesn't have to do with the Ghost anymore? I knew you had tunnel vision, but sheesh."
"I never said that this had nothing to do with that case. In fact, I think there's more going on here than meets the eye."
"That's funny coming from you," Owl tittered. "How is the eye anyway?"
"It'd be better if somepony hadn't tried to teach their dog how to use a grill," Limbo growled.
"Hey, to be fair, Mr. Wiggles cooked those burgers to smoky perfection."
"Sorry to interrupt," Samba chimed in, "but is the Ghost involved or not?"
"Yes."
"No."
Limbo and Owl glared at one another.
"What exactly makes you think they're involved?" Owl inquired challengingly.
"Because I hardly think it's a coincidence that Trixie tried to get their attention and somepony else ends up kidnapping her."
"You really are desperate for leads, huh? There hasn't been any new information on the Ghost in ages, Limbo. Stop grasping at straws."
"Well, have you entertained the idea that our culprit might not be a unicorn?"
Owl scoffed, rolling his eyes. "You saying that because of the kirin kid? Come off it. That whole thing is just your own theories and delusions. We here at the station figured out a long time ago that your guess about the victims' spells is just a big coincidence. The kirin doesn't move the case forward in any way."
"You're just saying that because you're bitter that I've made more progress on the case since I left the force than you guys did since the case opened. Sizzle Conifer is the first outlier that's cropped up."
"You think that kid is the first outlier?"
Limbo quirked a puzzled eyebrow.
Owl sighed with a little frustration, but not towards Limbo. "There's one thread in that case that has never made sense to me. You might call us around here lazy, but I've been wracking my brain over something that doesn't fit in this case."
"And what might that be?"
Owl looked her dead in the eye, almost accusingly. "Your friend Poe."
The adamant expression Limbo had been shooting his way finally faltered. "Poe?"
"Yeah. As far as we know, she doesn't know any special spells either. So, assuming that there's merit to your hypothesis, why would the Ghost target her?"
Samba tilted her head. "Isn't it because—oof!" She was discreetly jabbed her in the ribs by Limbo to shut her up, along with a silent glare. Samba backpedaled quickly once she realized what she'd almost just revealed to the cops, struggling to cover her tracks. "I-I mean, the Ghost probably just... has a grudge against Limbo. Right? That makes sense, doesn't it?"
Owl stared quietly and inquisitively at Samba, eliciting a few beads of nervous sweat from the dancer. "Plausible, certainly. Kidnapping her best friend as a threat could have been an attempt to make her back off, but I think it'd be naïve to take that as one hundred percent how it is. After all, doing so has only served to double Limbo's efforts. Ain't that right, Limbo?"
"I still think my theory holds water," Limbo claimed, trying to deflect the issue. "On that note, can we get back on track? Trixie's gone missing, and the culprit wants the money tonight. I can't exactly get a hold of fifty thousand bits myself, let alone in that amount of time."
Owl flicked a hoof dismissively. "Yeah, yeah, cool your jets. Hey, Scribble! Get on this, would ya?"
He balled up the ransom note and tossed it to the mare filing her hooves, tagging her in the head. She unfurled it and looked it over.
"Ooh, these clippings are from Cosmopolotan," Scribble remarked.
"Not the words, the money," Owl corrected with a groan. "Get in contact with the mayor or something."
Scribble rolled her eyes with an exaggerated groan as she laboriously got up from her desk. "Sure, whatevs," she muttered disinterestedly as she shuffled her way out.
"I'm joining you on this case too," Limbo asserted.
Owl ran a hoof down his face. "As much as I'd like to see your indignant face when I say no, I'm already tired of arguing with you. So do what you want, I don't care. Just don't get in the way and try to keep the snarky comments to a minimum."
Limbo grinned slightly, relieved to hear him not put up a fight on this. "Alright. Then I'll meet you guys at the harbor tonight."
"Whatever. Now, get outta my sight. We got a lot of work to do for this."
"Don't have to tell me twice," quipped Limbo as she lead Samba back outside, more than happy to put some distance between her and her testy former colleague.
Samba offered a friendly smile and a wave in the hopes of at least partially offsetting Limbo's attitude. "Nice meeting you."
Night Owl just responded with a halfhearted flick of his hoof.
***** ***** *****
The first thing Limbo did when she and Samba returned to Limbo's apartment was, unsurprisingly, turn on the coffee pot. She had had a pretty focused look in her single silver eye, and that didn't escape Samba's notice; the hurried gait with which they made their way back and Samba's sore legs were a sure sign of something she'd become familiar with about the undead detective in the short time she'd known her. Night Owl called it tunnel vision, and that seemed apt enough, proving that this wasn't just a recent addition to her list of personality quirks.
But now that they were back, Samba had something she wanted to say. She cast Limbo an apologetic and regretful frown. "Sorry for almost slipping up back there. I wasn't really thinking."
Limbo waved it off. "Don't worry about it. I'm actually more concerned about the fact that Owl's been suspicious of Poe—and by association, me—for a while now. He obviously thinks I know something that he doesn't, but then again, I know a lot of things that the B.P.D. doesn't."
Samba joined Limbo in the kitchen, placing Limbo's new kettle on the stove and turning on the burner to prepare a cup of tea. "So, you're worried that he's gonna find out about the necromancy spell, put two and two together and figure out you're dead, right? I guess as a cop, he'd be obligated to tell Princess Twilight, and then you'd be... you know... Un-undead. Re-deadened? They... They'd have to kill you again, is what I'm getting at."
"Like I told you before, my life—or whatever play on words you prefer—doesn't matter anymore. I'm not really afraid of going back to being a lifeless corpse because there's a moral dilemma there."
"What moral dilemma? You're breaking the law, aren't you? You said it yourself that the law dictates that you'd have to be... uh, whatever the word for it would be."
"Yeah, but it's up to Princess Twilight whether or not she'd actually go through with it. I didn't ask Poe to bring me back. Taking my second life away could be seen as the same as just killing me again. An execution essentially. I doubt the princess would have the heart to do that, and Owl might be a snide dingus, but he isn't cruel. He wouldn't want to see me dead."
"Well, technically, he's already seen you dead, he just doesn't know it."
Limbo grimaced, bemused. "What'd I say about that kinda stuff?"
Samba blushed awkwardly. "Sorry."
"The point I'm getting at is that if Owl found out, Poe would have to be arrested, assuming she's still alive. And doing that to somepony after they'd been kidnapped would be more cruel than executing me, in my biased opinion anyway."
The kettle began to whistle, and Samba fixed herself her tea. "You don't think Owl would be willing to give her some leeway?"
"It's not his job to give people leeway. Honestly, if Princess Twilight did decide to take my gifted life away, I wouldn't argue. I'm a law enforcement officer too, so I'd understand. I don't want Poe to go to jail because she did something wholly altruistic. That's not justice to me."
"Then why is it a law?"
"To prevent people from abusing it," Limbo answered as she poured her coffee. "People would have no regard for life if we could just freely raise the dead. That being said, it's an old, kinda outdated law. Necromancy itself is basically a forgotten art, and nowadays it would be up for debate if the associated punishment is considered ethical or not. Really, I just want to avoid all that hullabaloo," she said with a exasperated and dismissive flick of her hoof. "Keeping this a secret isn't gonna hurt anypony, that's all I'm saying."
"I gotcha. I'll try harder to keep my lips zipped," Samba said with a smile. "Anyway, what's the plan for when we get down to the harbor tonight?"
Limbo cocked an eyebrow. "'We'?"
Samba hesitated at the accusatory stare Limbo was giving her. "What?"
"Samba, you're just my assistant, remember? You don't have any sort of police training like I do. I'm fine with letting you help with information gathering, but you're not qualified to be involved in a hostage situation."
The dancer's gaze drifted to the floor, and she lowered her head. "Oh... Well, it's just... I wanted to help you so I could do something meaningful and prove to myself that I'm not a waste of space. And it's tough considering that even the zombie who has no regard for whether or not she gets to keep living has more to contribute to the world than I do... I feel like I haven't been helping at all. I've just been a tagalong this whole time."
"We've been over this. The changes you're looking for aren't gonna happen overnight, Samba. You've only been working with me for a few days. Just have some patience. I mean, I've been chasing the Ghost since the beginning and haven't actually made a ton of progress, yet I'm still persevering." Limbo flashed a grin. "Besides, you were the one who threw it out there that the Ghost might not be a unicorn."
"But we don't know if that's actually true," Samba admitted dejectedly.
"Psh, you think that means anything?" Limbo scoffed. "We don't know anything for certain. I've mostly been operating on theories and assumptions for the whole case. Who knows? This 'maybe-not-a-unicorn' thing could be the breakthrough we've been looking for once we find answers for all the other questions that that's brought up."
Samba sighed, twirling her wavy mane with her hoof. "Okay, I'll try to be a little more optimistic," she claimed in a less-than-optimistic tone.
"Well, hey, how about I leave Webber here to keep you company while I'm gone?"
Samba drew back slightly. "Um, I'm not sure if that'll help."
"Nonsense. You two need a little time to get to know one another anyway. Hey, Webber, come out here."
Samba made sure to quickly look away this time as Webber crawled out from Limbo's eye socket and she set the spider down on the kitchen table. Samba locked eyes with Webber, both of them looking a little pensive—or she assumed Webber felt the same.
"How exactly are we supposed to get to know each other? He can't talk," Samba inquired.
"You'll learn his body language eventually. Trust me, it's not hard." Limbo downed the rest of her coffee, pouring up some more in an insulated container. "Anyhoo, I'll give you two a head start while I head down to the precinct and discuss the plan with Owl."
"What? Right now?" said Samba in surprise.
"Yeah, why not? Ain't got much else to do until tonight," Limbo said with a shrug as she headed for the door. "Oh, and, Webber? Be nice, okay? I don't want to come back tonight and find you smooshed because you decided to scare her for fun."
Webber just lifted a leg slightly in acknowledgement.
Limbo opened the door. "Alrighty, then. Have fun you two. Let's hope I can get more info about the Ghost from this."
"And save Trixie," Samba reminded her.
"Who? Oh, right. Yeah, yeah, sure."
That dismissive sentiment was the last thing she said before shutting the door behind her, leaving Samba and Webber alone for the night. Samba glanced awkwardly at the spider.
"Sooo... Read any good books lately?"