The train clattered gently as it ran across the flat plains of red dust and scrub, the lights in the sleeping car automatically dimmed to encourage its passengers to prepare for sleep. Daring stared in amazement out the window, drinking up the sights of the desert stretching out to touch the infinite, pure black sky dotted with twinkling silver stars.
“It’s not that bloody amazing,” Phillip smiled, sitting on the bed of the private compartment that they’d claimed as their own. Their hats and vests were resting in the small wardrobe set into the wall next to the door.
“You only say that because you grew up here,” Daring replied, casting her eyes over the Aushaylian outback. “This place is awesome! I’ve never seen stars so clear before--oh! Kangaroos!” She pressed her nose against the glass, her face glowing at the sight of the herd of bipedal, mouse-like creatures bounding across the landscape as if chasing after the train. “Faust, I would’ve loved to have grown up in a place like this,” she said. “Younger me could’ve gone exploring out here for hours, trying to dig up Aborigineigh artifacts and going on wildlife treks.”
“Suppose we could go on a wander later,” Phillip said, rising to join her at the window and wrapping a foreleg around her as he studied the night sky. “Just you and me, out in the bush...I could take you along some of the songlines my mother and grandmother taught me…”
“Songlines?” Daring asked, faintly recalling the word from a book that she’d read long ago.
“It’s how Aborigineigh navigated the lands,” Phillip explained. “See, they believe that when the world was being created during the Dreamtime, when things were just waking up from the dreamworld, the spirits walked across the world, leaving behind landmarks as they created the world. Songlines are songs that describe the landmarks the spirits left behind that somepony can use to follow their trail.”
“Ah,” Daring nodded. She nestled up against Phil’s side, draping a wing around his withers and tucking her bare head against his shoulder.
“I’m really glad you could come down with me,” Phillip said, nuzzling her mane, inhaling the warm scent of jasmine shampoo, coffee, and liquor that made up Daring Do.
“Of course I did,” Daring replied, tucking her face against his warm shoulder. The familiar aroma of rum, rain, and cheap cologne was instantly soothing to her.
“You’ll get to meet my grandmother,” Phillip said. “And Uncle Prom, I bet you’ll love him.”
“Prom?” Daring asked, looking up at him.
“Promenade Deck,” Phillip said. “My dad’s half-brother. He was a sailor most of his life, retired when I was a teen to devote himself to collecting books about local history and stuff.” He grinned at the way Daring’s violet eyes glimmered as bright as the stars outside at the mention of history books. “Thought that’d get your attention.”
“You sure know how to show a girl a good time,” Daring said, leaning up and kissing him on the lips. He melted into the kiss, slowly rubbing her back.
A moment later, he grunted in surprise when she abruptly pushed him down onto the bottom bunk, both of them sprawling onto the small, firm mattress.
“Maybe I should show you a good time, too,” Daring purred, the glint in her eyes turning predatory as she rested her head against his shoulder, gently wrapping her wings around his body.
Phillip huffed and arched his back, groaning as her feathered appendages reached their target. “How...how long has it been since we did this?” he nickered, smiling.
“Too long,” Daring breathed, rubbing his heaving chest, feeling her own heartbeat accelerating with every moment. “Far, far too long.”
“Then let’s make this one memorable,” Phillip grinned. He took Daring’s face in his hooves and pulled her into a kiss, reaching up to turn out the light as he did so.
“Ladies and gentleponies, we’ll be pulling into Central Station in about fifteen minutes,” the announcement carried through the train the next morning. “Please be ready with all of your luggage. Thank you for journeying with us and welcome to Sydneigh, the capital of Aushaylia!”
Passengers in their compartments calmly began to gather their belongings, preparing for disembarking with a clattering of objects and voices that mixed with the rattling of the train wheels beneath them. In one compartment, a red stallion carefully unfolded a wheelchair from the corner of the room.
“Easy does it,” Bobby said, lining up the wheelchair next to the bed.
“Boys, I’m telling you, I can do it myself,” Rain sighed, sitting up on the bed, her body rocking slightly with the motion of the train.
“I know, but we want to help,” Phillip said, positioning himself next to the chair.
Rain sighed heavily, but smiled faintly as she crawled over to the edge of the bed, grunting in effort as she dangled her paralyzed hind legs over the edge. Her husband and son took up positions on either side of her.
“Okay, one, two, three…” The two stallions gently lifted her up and placed her in the wheelchair.
“My heroes,” Rain said, adjusting her position carefully.
“You guys ready?” Daring asked, wiping the last vestiges of her toothpaste from her mouth as she stuck her head in the door.
“Just about,” Bobby replied, starting to place his hooves on the handles of the wheelchair only for Rain to gently wave him off. He turned and looked out the window, smiling at the sight of the city outside, buildings and roads passing by. “Welcome to Sydneigh, sheila,” he said. “Can’t wait to bring you down to the old ranch and the Opera House!”
“It’ll be good to see the Outbackers again,” Rain said, steering the wheelchair to the door. “I’m just glad that they were able to keep together without us.”
“You didn’t think they were gonna split off and form their own band?” Phillip teased as Daring handed him his set of saddlebags.
“They could bloody try,” Bobby smirked, following his wife out onto the passageway. “But they’d never find another didgeridoo or clarinet player as good as my Rain.”
“Or a trumpet player as good as you,” Rain smiled, leaning back to allow her husband to kiss her, prompting Phil and Daring to roll their eyes good-naturedly.
The train was slowing as it pulled into Central Station, a great red brick building with a giant clocktower stretching above the city to the sky, its hands announcing that the time was half-past seven. The train rounded a corner and slowed dramatically as it passed into the covered platform, steam billowing from the engine as the brakes squealed.
“Welcome to Sydneigh!” the uniformed attendant declared, hopping onto the platform and pulling down the steps to allow passengers to climb down. Passengers started to disembark, some of them allowing the attendant to help them down onto the concrete platform.
The family made their way down to the platform, Rain using the levitation charm to descend the stairs, and proceeded across the platform, weaving through the stands hawking newspapers, cigarettes, food, and other travel essentials.
“There they are!” a voice called and a group of ponies charged over to them. The Outbackers pounced on Bobby, Rain, Phil, and Daring with joyful shouts and embraces.
“Easy, easy!” Bobby cried, allowing Giana to tussle his mane affectionately. “Yeah, we missed you, too, you wankers.”
“You didn’t have to do this,” Phillip feebly protested, blushing faintly as Rock and Roll String both kissed him on the cheek.
“Like we were gonna let you head back to the ranch on your own,” Sax City declared, slapping Phil on the back and taking his saddlebags. “C’mon, we got the trucks waiting out front.”
“Good to see you again!” Siren Bliss cried, flinging her forelegs around Daring’s neck.
“I…” Daring stammered for a moment, unsure how to react to the affection, then gently hugged her back. “Yeah. Good to see you, too.”
“We can’t wait to show you around,” Play Bitz grinned. “You’re gonna love Sydneigh!”
“I’m sure I will,” Daring replied, following the Outbackers...her family across the platform.
The entourage proceeded through the train station and out front, where two large white trucks were waiting. Rain, Bobby, and Phil sat in the backseat. Daring climbed into the front passenger seat as Play Bitz climbed into the driver’s seat.
“How far away is the place?” Daring asked as the truck started up.
“Not far,” Phillip said. “About twenty minutes out. Think you can sit still that long?”
Daring stuck her tongue out at him as the trucks pulled away from the curb and headed out through the streets of Sydneigh.
The vehicles trundled west, the asphalt quickly giving way to dirt that swirled through the air in their wake. The brush around them rustled in the wind, broken up by farmland, with power lines running alongside the street.
Within twenty minutes, they finally reached a wide ranch. A set of small white houses stood amidst the mowed grass, with small enclosures of wire fencing populated by a few cows and sheep.
“This is the place,” Phillip said as the trucks pulled into the lot and stopped.
“Wow,” Daring commented as she hopped out of the passenger seat. “You actually grew up here? Milking cows and shearing sheep?”
“In between rehearsing and studying,” Phillip said as he and his father hopped out, stepping aside to allow Rain to levitate herself out. Noting Daring’s smirk, he frowned at her. “The band didn’t pay all the bills,” he explained.
Daring sniggered and booped him. “Whatever you say, farm boy.”
The red door on the main house opened and a mare exited. The Aborigineigh mare’s mane was a dull silver color, tied back into a long braid decorated with beads and feathers. The stripes in her coat had dulled to a pale gray color, and her cutie mark was a single feather imposed on a trio of wavy blue lines. She proceeded towards the trucks with a broad smile, moving stiffly but surely.
“Amey,” Rain beamed, wheeling herself over to the older mare and greeting her with a hug. Phil gave her a kiss on the cheek and the three began to speak in Aborigineigh, Phil’s speech noticeably slower and more hesitant from years of disuse.
“Daring, meet my grandmother,” Phillip said, beckoning her over. “Ilpay Aympelh, River Feather.”
River Feather turned to greet Daring, beaming at her. She reached over and stroked Daring’s face, speaking Aborigineigh in a slow, slightly croaky voice.
“She’s happy to see you,” Rain translated. “She welcomes you to the family.” Then, with an impish grin, she added, “And she’s looking forward to meeting her great-grandchildren.”
“She didn’t say that!” Phillip protested, both he and Daring blushing vivid red. Both mares snickered at their embarrassment.
The other truck pulled up and the rest of the Outbackers began to disembark, carrying out their guests’ bags, carrying them into the house for them. Rain wheeled over to assist them, leaving Daring with River.
Mentally ordering her cheeks to return to their normal color, Daring looked over at River, who smiled back at her placidly. “So...what do I call you?” Daring asked.
River tilted her head to the side in puzzlement. “Um…” Daring thought for a moment, mentally kicking herself for not taking the chance to have Rain teach her more of her native language, then pointed at herself. “Ampa,” she stated, then pointed at River, giving her a querying look.
Understanding flashed into River’s face and she pointed to her own chest. “Anyany,” she said.
“Anyany,” Daring said, speaking slowly to savor the word. Grandmother.
River pointed at Rain and Bobby. “Amey, akngey,” she said
“Amey, akngey,” Daring repeated. Mother. Father.
“Aypmenhey,” River continued, pointing at Daring.
“Aypmenhey.” Granddaughter.
With a smile, River pointed at Phillip, who was following Bobby into the house. “Anenty,” she said.
“Anenty,” Daring repeated, pointing at Phil, who had paused and was giving his grandmother a red-cheeked frown. “What’s that, boyfriend?”
Rain laughed loudly, prompting Phil to shoot her a dirty look. “It means husband,” he grumbled to Daring.
“O-oh,” Daring said, blushing again as Bobby, Rain, and River all laughed.
“C’mon, let’s get you settled in,” Bobby said, nodding for her to enter.
The sitting room of the ranch house was decorated with hoof-carved furnishings, an open window leading to a small but well-stocked and maintained kitchen. The Outbackers promptly attacked the kitchen, gathering dishes and food and carrying them out onto the patio, gathering up a barbeque grill.
“Oi, Bobby, you gonna help?” Sax City said, stacking some ground beef and slices of hay onto his plate.
“You need me to hold your hooves around the barbie?” Bobby snarked.
“Nah, we just need our taste tester,” Rock String replied.
“All an elaborate plot to poison you so Sax can take over the band,” her sister Roll giggled, opening up the sliding door to allow Bobby and Sax to head outside as Giana started up the grill.
Left behind in the living room, Daring’s eye was immediately drawn to a large painting on the wall. Instead of a canvas, the painting was set upon a large piece of bark. Drawn upon it in vivid watercolor was a magnificent display of Aborigineigh artwork, gentle lines running across a blue and yellow background. Zebras in black and white cavorted across the bottom of the painting, dancing beneath blue lines of rain that fell from the swirling gray clouds.
Above the clouds was a trio of familiar figures. The white zebra-like figures were painted the same swirling gray colors as the clouds that they stood upon, their wings spread. They stared down at the Aborigineigh beneath them, wide glowing white eyes staring from their mouthless faces. Their heads were surrounded by circles of lightning, represented by black spears arranged in crown-like arrangements.
“Wandjina,” Daring said, lifting up the totem necklace from beneath her shirt and comparing the carving of Awely-Awely to the wandjina on the painting. None of them had her long, blazing white mane or the same design of the lightning crown, with its more intricate, interlaced arrows.
“Yes,” Rain nodded. “These aren’t Angkakert or Awely-Awely, these are some of their children. This painting depicts the wandjina giving rain to the Aborigineigh so that they can grow their crops.”
“Grandma made this,” Phillip said.
“Wow,” Daring said, drinking in the sight of the painting. She found herself drawn in by the glowing white eyes of the rain spirits; despite not having mouths, they seemed to be regarding their charges with great tenderness. “What’s the word for beautiful?”
“Anthiparr,” Phillip said after a moment of thought.
“Anthiparr,” Daring told River, pointing at the picture. The elder nodded her gratitude.
“You guys seem to have a lot of wandjina around here,” Daring commented, taking another look at her totem necklace and comparing it to Phil’s totem of Angkakert, who had a shorter mane and a gold crown of longer arrows.
“They’re our tribe’s guardian spirit,” Rain explained. “Each tribe of Aborigineigh has their own spirit, one of the inhabitants of the Dreamtime that favored them, taught them their songlines. The wandjina have protected our ancestors for generations. And they have always guided Phil.” She turned and placed her hoof over Daring’s. “And I’m sure that they will protect you as well.”
“Hey!” Charlie Ivory called from outside. “You wankers gonna come out here and join us for lunch or what?”
Daring stuck her tongue out, drawing her right foreleg back, adjusting her grip on the boomerang. With her left, she aimed at her targets: a trio of empty beer bottles stood up on the fence that marked the boundaries of the empty pen she stood inside, the once-white paint peeling off it.
“Oh, c’mon, sheila!” Bobby called from where the others were watching, another bottle of Kanga-Rum held in his hoof. “What was my boy teaching you?”
“How about you come over here and do better?” Daring replied, shifting her grip. She took a breath, feeling the faint tingle of magic dancing beneath the carved wood of the weapon, running down her foreleg. Exhaling slowly, she snapped the boomerang out. The weapon spun through the evening air with a whistling, arcing around to strike two of the bottles, shattering them into shards of glass that caught the setting sun as they tumbled to the dirt; the third bottle just wobbled slightly in the wind.
The observers all groaned in disappointment as the weapon returned to Daring’s hoof; even some of the cows that languidly chewed their cud from a neighboring patch let out low moos of sympathy. “You guys threw me off,” she grumbled. “I’m not used to having an audience.”
“Just takes practice,” Phillip said, patting her on the back. “Keep at it, and…”
He smirked and nodded to Play Bitz, who placed two more empty beer bottles on the fence, one to Phil’s left and one behind him, then stood to his right and pulled out a match, striking it against the box and holding up the flickering flame. Phil drew his boomerang and weighed it for a moment, gesturing for Daring to stand back. She backed off a few feet, rolling her eyes in exasperation.
In a single motion, Phil threw the boomerang out, snapping it right at the first beer bottle. The bottle smashed into glass shards with a crash of thunder, the sound immediately followed by the second and third bottles smashing. The boomerang sped past Play Bitz in a blur, fast enough to rustle his mane. The flame of the match was snuffed out with a faint puff and Phillip caught the weapon without looking.
“And maybe someday you’ll be as good as me,” Phillip grinned at her as the Outbackers all applauded and whooped.
“Wanker,” Daring snorted, giving him a boop with a half-smile.
“Maybe you’ll have better luck with this,” Bobby said, trotting over to the side of a barn. He pulled down a coil of rope and carried it over to her.
“A whip?” Daring asked, taking the object in her hooves. The tapered black leather rope was attached to a six-inch-long plaited handle by a loop of leather.
“A stockwhip,” Bobby replied. “Ranchers have been using them to herd cattle for years. Just the noise is enough to get them to move. Rain learned how to use this when she was a mere anklebiter; Phil picked it up when he was no more than six.”
He took the whip back and stepped back several paces, leaving a wide enough berth for him to swing it safely. He swung the whip up over his head, the leather cord swinging around with a heavy swoop! Then he snapped it down with a sharp motion. The whip looped around and struck the air with an ear-splitting crack!
“Go on, try it,” Bobby said, pressing it back into her hooves.
“But I don’t know how,” Daring protested.
“It honestly isn’t that different from your kusarifundo,” Phil said, taking it from her. “The trick is keeping it all lined up and making sure you get the loop properly formed.”
He raised the whip straight up, his arm held straight: Daring noted that the whip formed a loop as it came up. Then he snapped it down and the whip struck the air with a crack.
“Now you try,” Phil said, passing it to her. “It’s got a bit of magic in it to make it easier; when mom made it, she weaved some clouds and potions into the leather to carry a charge.”
“I feel it,” Daring nodded, lightly brushing a feather against the thick leather cord. A tingle of energy like static electricity danced across her primaries and down her spine.
“You know how to make it speak to you,” Phil continued. “Straight up and down.”
“Okay…” Daring said. She held her arm out stiff and raised the handle straight up, then snapped it down. The whip uncoiled out sharply but did not crack.
“You gotta do it a little faster,” Phil said. “Put some snap into your wrist. Like I said, just like your kusarifundo.”
Daring took a breath and held the whip out in front of her again, flicking her wrist emphatically; it reformed itself obediently, listening to the command. She loosened up her shoulder, then raised the whip straight up. Swoop!
The coil looped around and Daring snapped it down, just like she was cracking the weight of her weapon against a target’s temple.
Crack!
“Ripper!” Phillip said as the others all applauded.
“Now hit the bottle!” Bobby declared, placing his empty rum bottle on the fence.
“Oh, Bobby, don’t pressure her,” Rain chided with a weary smile.
“It’s okay, Rain,” Daring said, facing her target.
“Y’all better stand way back,” Siren Bliss warned the others, who all walked back several yards.
Daring gave them a Flying Feather as she lined herself up. She swung the whip back and forth a few times, feeling the magic inside flickering down her foreleg in response to her movements. She swung the whip up, then cracked it out. The air cracked a foot to the left of the bottle.
“Almost,” Bobby said. “Give it another try.”
Daring paused to line herself up, shifting to the right a bit, then cracked the whip again. The whip cracked the air a few inches to the right of the bottle, causing it to wobble upon its perch.
“Getting closer!” Giana cheered.
“This time for sure,” Bobby urged her.
Daring stepped back to take a few practice swings. A rhythm of swoop-crack, swoop-crack, swoop-crack sounded in the air as she practiced; with every repetition, she felt the magic inside the whip travel even further down her foreleg, running down her spine and along her wings. She allowed it to flow across her body, harnessing it, allowing it to blend with the familiar humming of the flight magic in her wings. And once she knew that it was part of her, she turned around and faced the bottle again. She took a breath and cleared her mind: no hesitation, just do it.
Swoop! The leather reached up to the sky, forming a perfect loop.
Crack! The bottle shattered into dust, the sound mixing with the thunderclap of the whip.
The Outbackers all burst into cheers and applause as a grinning Daring snapped her wrist, causing the whip to coil around her body. The applause turned into laughter when the end smacked Daring in the face, knocking her pith helmet askew.
River smiled and said something to Rain, who nodded. “What’d she say?” Daring asked, fixing her helmet and trying to hide her embarrassed flush.
“She said you remind her of Captain Bushwhacker,” another voice declared. A white stallion with a brown beard and the cutie mark of a table with a map and book sitting atop it was walking up to the pen, a grin on his face, and a couple packages tucked beneath his foreleg.
“Bloody late, Uncle Prom,” Phillip declared, trotting forward to greet the new pony with an embrace.
“Sorry, lad, I had some work to do at home,” the stallion said as Bobby clapped him hard on the back. He looked over at Daring, a grin on his weatherbeaten face. “Is that the sheila?”
“Daring, my Uncle Promenade Deck,” Phillip introduced her.
“I’ve heard a lot about you, sheila,” Promenade Deck said, shaking her hoof.
“Well, so much for good first impressions,” Daring replied with a chuckle.
“Here, here, I got a couple things for you,” Promenade said, handing Phil and Daring each a package.
Daring tore open her wrapping and blinked at the book inside. “Oh...the latest Compass Rose book. Cool!” she smiled, clenching her jaw together to try to contain the laughter that was bubbling up from her gut.
“Real thoughtful, Uncle Prom,” Phil said with a suppressed grin as Bobby and Rain both turned away, their shoulders shaking as they covered their mouths with their hooves. Phil quickly tore open his package, revealing a book with the title Amethyst Wolf, Gentlepony Thief: the Complete Collection. “Oh, crikey. Thanks, Uncle Prom,” Phil said in obvious delight.
“I knew you’d like it,” Promenade Deck nodded, ruffling his nephew’s mane.
“So who’s Captain Bushwhacker?” Daring asked.
“Oh, no, here we go,” Siren Bliss groaned, rolling her eyes.
“You got him in his storyteller mode,” Giana said.
“Best pull up a chair, we’re gonna be here for a while,” Charlie said, sitting down with a grunt and fumbling with a bottle of beer before Sax City popped the cap off for him.
“Captain Jamie Bushwhacker was one of the first Equestrians to explore Aushaylia,” Promenade Deck explained, taking off his hat and heading over to a chair next to River. “She started her life as a privateer, a licensed pirate hunter, way back in the 1820s. She accidentally landed on Aushaylia in 1827 while searching for a pirate fleet and made friends with the Aborigineighs who lived there.”
While he was speaking, River trotted over to a small shed; through the windows, Daring could see a small workshop with glass bottles, a mortar and pestle, and a variety of herbs and plants arranged on shelves. River reemerged a moment later with a small bundle of gray clouds tucked beneath her forelegs.
“Aborigineigh magic,” Phillip explained in response to Daring’s raised eyebrows. “I tried to learn how to use clouds for years, but it never clicked for me. Not enough Aborigineigh blood, I guess.”
River sat down and began to weave the cloud as expertly as a weaver at her loom, forming the shape of a pegasus mare in a tricorn hat and a fancy coat standing upon the deck of a ship, a daring grin on her face, her mane and tail blowing back in the wind.
"Since she was the first Equestrian to reach the land, the Aborigineigh were instantly fascinated with her and her crew, and she was just as curious about them,” Promenade continued. “She started coming back more and more often, and she took it upon herself to learn their language and their customs, writing down much of what she learned. When she told the Equestrian Navy of this wonderful new land she’d found and its people, other ships started to come. Trade started between Equestria and Aushaylia, and Bushwhacker herself introduced Princess Celestia to the tribal leaders.”
River reformed the cloud into a new diorama, showing the captain standing beside Princess Celestia, who was smiling and extending her hoof to an entourage of Aborigineigh tribal leaders adorned in ornamentation.
“Because of her, an alliance between the Aborigineigh and the Equestrians flourished: Equestrians began to emigrate to this strange new land, bringing with them cattle and sheep, setting up cities and railroads, trading with the natives.” Promenade paused to take a sip of beer.
“Jamie thought that the sea was always her home: she’d always loved the wind in her mane, the taste of the salt spray on her tongue as she hunted her foes,” Promenade narrated as River began to reform her clouds. “But she hadn’t counted on one thing.”
“Oh, don’t tell me,” Daring said, rolling her eyes.
“She fell in love,” she and the Outbackers all sighed as one.
Rain chuckled. “Oh, don’t be like that, ampa,” she grinned at Daring. “You can’t really claim to be any different, can you?”
Daring glanced at Phil and shuffled her hooves. “Fine,” she grumbled.
“She met an Aborigineigh stallion, Aherrk,” Promenade said as River completed her next diorama: an Aborigineigh in a simple cloak that almost covered his cutie mark of a sun peeking over the horizon, a hoe over his shoulder and a contented smile on his face. “Aherrk was a simple farmer, honest, hardworking, and humble. Every time Bushwhacker came to port, he was one of the first to greet her, always with her favorite meal: emu with potatoes and carrots."
"Emu?" Daring asked, her face creasing in a mixture of surprise and disgust.
"Don't knock it 'til you try it," Promenade admonished with a grin. "Aherrk would take her out into the bush to watch the sunrise and she would help him tend his crops. Their love blossomed over the years, until one evening while walking upon the beach beneath a beautiful sunset, he asked her to be his wife. And of course, she said yes.”
River had already built the scene for them: Aherrk kneeling before Bushwhacker, kissing the hoof that he held in both of his own as his love smiled down at him, joyful tears running down her face.
“Bushwhacker, with her injuries and age finally catching up to her from her years of battling on the high seas, took up a new life as a farmer and explorer, with her husband by her side,” Promenade concluded. “They raised healthy cattle; Bushwhacker, once known for her skill with the sword, became renowned for her skill with the stockwhip. Their descendants flourished as well, and their blood remains a part of this land.”
Promenade took another sip of beer, then leaned forward, a conspiratorial glimmer in his eyes. “Of course, that’s all that proven history tells us,” he grinned.
“And there he goes,” Rock String rolled her eyes.
“We’re all too old for fantasy bedtime stories, Prom,” Roll groused.
“Oh, you drongos are just a bunch of nay-sayers,” Promenade declared to them before turning back to Daring. “I’m talking about the treasure.”
Daring’s ears perked up. “Treasure?” she repeated, ignoring the groans of the band members and Phil rolling his eyes.
Promenade chuckled knowingly. “Over the years, Captain Bushwhacker accumulated a lot of treasure from the pirates that she captured and the commissions that she earned,” he explained. “Enough that she couldn’t carry it on her ship. But Aherrk found a secret cave somewhere in the bush, enough for her to store her treasure. They hid it away and Aherrk composed a songline so that they and their family could find it again.” He leaned in closer.
“And it’s not just treasure that’s hidden away in there,” he added in a conspiratorial stage whisper. “There are two legendary weapons tucked away in that cave, wielded by Bushwhacker and Aherrk themselves. Weapons that were once used to save this land!”
Daring leaned in closer, listening intently, an excited tingle in her hooves not unlike that she had felt as a filly, sitting in the library with her nose in a thriller novel, wanting to savor the moment of tension before she turned the page.
“Not long after Bushwhacker and Aherrk were married,” Promenade Deck narrated, the setting sun casting strange shadows over his grinning face. “The land was struck by a terrible curse.”
“Namorodo,” River spoke, hissing out the word like acid. Daring turned to see that she had formed a new diorama: an army of thin quadrupedal creatures, their limbs sinewy and ending in curled claws, serpentine manes spilling from their horned heads.
“What are they?” Daring asked.
“Wicked spirits,” Rain said. “They’re similar to your vampires: they sleep during the day in rocks and cliff faces, but during the night, they go out to hunt. You can hear them whistling in the wind; if they catch you, they’ll suck out your insides and turn you into one of them.”
“Effective way to get kids to stay indoors,” Bobby commented, drawing a round of chuckles from the group and causing Phillip’s cheeks to color.
River continued to recite her lesson, forming more figures with her cloud: a layer of black clouds with two figures standing atop them.
Daring recognized them both--the one with the long mane looked just like the totem necklace around her neck--but was still struck by the power that the striped duo presented. The great, mouthless creatures, crowned with lightning, were glaring down at the sinewy figures beneath that were fleeing from them; the cold hatred in their solid white eyes almost chilling to see. Both of them had their wings spread: six massive wings apiece, shaped like eagle’s wings, but like their limbs, turning into faint wisps around the edges.
“Angkakert and Awely-Awely,” she identified them.
“They brought rain to the world, and found that their thunder and lightning could frighten away wicked spirits, including the namorodo,” Rain explained.
“Indeed,” Promenade nodded. “But in Bushwhacker’s time, the land was plagued by namorodo who had allied with dark wizards. Their evil magic, backed up the power of terrible gods from the underworld, prevented rain from coming to the land. Not only did the drought cause shortages of food and blistering heat, but the namorodo were also allowed to run rampant, feasting upon cattle, sheep, and citizens. Someone had to do something. And Bushwhacker was never one to stand by when ponies needed help.
“She and Aherrk set out into the bush in search of the wizards, she with her stockwhip, and he with his waddy: his hunting stick,” Promenade continued. “But a sandstorm sent by their foes caused them to lose their way and they were left exposed in the desert. Mere minutes after the sun went down, they were beset by namorodo! They struck at the pair with their claws, slashing their skin; more than once, they barely managed to fend off one of the monsters just as they were lunging for their neck! They lashed out with their weapons, but the namorodo shrugged off all their blows!
“Finally, as they were fleeing over the endless sands, they found a small oasis, far from their town. And as they approached, a thunderstorm sounded from the distance and the namorodo fled. Bushwhacker and Aherrk sat by the oasis, tending to their wounds, as Aherrk prayed to the spirits for help. And to the surprise of them both, Angkakert and Awely-Awely appeared before them, rising from the water.”
River had formed a new diorama: Aherrk and Bushwhacker staring in amazement as the two great wandjina emerged from the small lake. Their mouthless faces radiated gentle compassion for the two mortals.
“Recognizing the strength of their spirits and conviction, the king and queen of storms blessed Bushwhacker’s stockwhip and Aherrk’s waddy with lightning and thunder, giving them the power to strike down the Namorodo,” Promenade continued, a bright glimmer in his eyes. “Invigorated by the backing of the gods, Bushwhacker and Aherrk strode boldly back into the desert. The namorodo attacked again, but were driven away by the magic weapons. They found the evil wizards and destroyed their ritual site, sending the survivors fleeing deep into the bush. No sooner had they overturned the cauldron in which the foul potion bubbled than clouds rolled in, rain pouring beneath them to refresh the land, lightning striking down the rest of the namorodo. Bushwhacker and Aherrk returned to their town as heroes. They kept the blessed weapons, and legend has it that they placed them in the cave with Bushwhacker’s treasure. There they remain, waiting to be used again.”
Sarcastic applause sounded from the Outbackers. “Wow. That was almost as thrilling as the last hundred times you told that story,” Charlie remarked.
“Oh, you kids can laugh now,” Promenade Deck declared, giving them all a superior look. “But tomorrow morning, you’ll all see.”
“What do you mean?” Daring asked.
“You’ll see, sheila,” Promenade Deck grinned. “In the meantime, there any burgers left?”
“We set some aside for you,” Bobby smiled, leading his brother over to the grill as River returned her clouds to her shed.
Daring watched Promenade trot off, a faint bitter taste of disappointment in her throat; she’d wanted to hear more. “Your uncle’s a hell of a storyteller,” she admitted to Phil.
“He is,” Phillip nodded, leaning back to look up at the stars. “But Bushwhacker stories were always his favorite.”
Daring leaned back and took another draught of the foamy beer, her eyes scanning the twinkling stars over their head, instinctively seeking out the Southern Cross and Scorpio. “You don’t think there’s any chance that that story is true?” she asked. “That there might be a cave with treasure somewhere out there?”
Phillip was silent for a moment. “Ponies have been searching the bush for that cave for years,” he said. “No one’s found it. But then again, I’m sitting next to a mare who made her career finding lost treasures.”
Daring chuckled. “Maybe we should take a crack at it,” she said.
“Of course you’d say that,” Phil sighed.
“You know you love me,” Daring grinned, turning and giving him a boop.
Phillip scrunched up his nose with a frown, then let out a defeated sigh and rolled his eyes. “True, true,” he mumbled, looking back up into the infinite blackness as Daring nestled her head against his shoulder.