//------------------------------// // Case Eighteen, Chapter Two: Myths and Legends // Story: Ponyville Noire: Misty Streets of Equestria // by PonyJosiah13 //------------------------------// An earsplitting crow jolted Daring awake with a grunt and she sat up in the creaky bed, the thin sheets falling away from her form.  “Fuck roosters,” she grumbled, wincing and raising a hoof to block the red-orange light that was streaming through the window. “Fuck sunlight,” she muttered, then winced and clutched her head as a jackhammer started pounding against the inside of her skull, causing the world to tilt wildly like a carnival ride and sending waves of nausea through her body. “And fuck beer!” she finally huffed.  “Must you?” Phillip groaned into the pillow.  “Blame the walking alarm clock, not me,” Daring mumbled, rubbing her temples until she felt well enough to open her eyes and look around.  Phil’s old room was decorated with posters on the wall celebrating jazz bands, with the round face of Cannonball Ambleway smiling at her over the dresser. A stack of sheet music lay in one corner, about half of which was hoofwritten. A desk sat beneath the window where the damnable sunlight was streaming in, the hoof-carved acacia surface covered in chemical burns from old experiments. A few notebooks and college textbooks sat on the bookshelves mounted onto the wall, along with some old toys and figurines. A small circular bark painting of a wandjina was mounted on the wall, looking down onto the bed with a look that displayed tender care despite the lack of mouth and pupils.  Daring found herself smiling at the scene. It was small and cozy, and most of all, it felt like home.  She stood up and tottered over to the door, exiting out into the narrow wood-floored hallway. She stumbled her way to the bathroom and completed her morning ablutions, grabbing a couple aspirin and antacids from the medicine cabinet and gulping them down with a glass of water on her way out. When she returned to the bedroom, Phil was sitting up in bed, rubbing his eyes and grumbling.  “When I left for college, one thing I told dad was that I was just glad that I didn’t have to get up at bloody sunrise ever again,” he grunted and snorted, pulling a gray shirt out from his suitcase. “And then I bloody had to fall in love with a morning pony.”  Daring smirked and leaned in, pressing her nose against his. “Well, I’m a good night pony, too,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows.  “You’re a bloody pain in my arse sometimes,” Phil grumbled. “You know that, right?”  “At least I use lube. Most of the time,” Daring sniggered.  Phil sighed, then kissed her. “But you’re my pain in the arse,” he admitted.  “Aww. You say the sweetest things,” Daring said, nuzzling him.  The thump of hoofsteps and a yawn announced that Bobby was awake. “Morning,” he grunted from the door, rubbing the five o’clock shadow around his jaw. “You two sleep alright?”  “Yeah, thanks, Dad,” Phil confirmed.  “What do you want for brekkie?” Bobby asked as Rain emerged in her wheelchair. “Egg toast sound good?” Phil asked Daring.  “Sounds great,” Daring said, rubbing her head, where the pain had dulled to a low throbbing.  They proceeded downstairs to the kitchen and Bobby started throwing bread and eggs onto the stovetop, quickly filling the room with mouth-watering aromas. “You two remember that Promenade said that he had a surprise for you?” Rain asked.  “Yeah, he’s our first stop this morning,” Phillip said, switching on the coffee machine. “But not until after I get some bloody coffee into me.”  “Wonder what he’s got for us,” Daring commented.  “Well, you won’t find out sitting here,” Bobby said. “Best get a move on, anklebiters.”  “And we’re taking the truck this time,” Phillip said. “I am not in any shape for flying.”  Daring stuck her tongue out at him. “Spoilsport,” she said, trying and failing to hide a wince as her hangover headache protested loudly. “But fine. We’ll take the truck.”  “I’m sorry, are you sure you have the right place?” Daring said, staring at the house that they had stopped in front of.  The three-story cottage with white trim sat on a well-trimmed lawn, with two hedges of westringia hedges bordering the sidewalk leading up to the wide porch. Ivy climbed up lattices along the walls, and a polished silver Ponyiac Trotalina Coupe sat in the driveway.  “Uncle Prom was always pretty successful with his money,” Phil replied, hopping down from the cab of the truck and tilting his trilby back, wincing as the sunlight struck his eyes. “Ow.”  “Oh, grow up. This isn’t even in my top ten worst hangovers, and you drank less than I did,” Daring replied, even as she tilted the brim of her pith helmet down to block the sun.  “That says a lot,” Phillip replied.  As they crossed the street and started up the sidewalk, passing in between the short walls of quivering white flowers, Phillip looked around, then turned to Daring. “I gotta warn you,” he said. “Uncle Prom has--”  But he was interrupted by a booming barking. A cream-colored mastiff with brown spots bounded around the corner of the house, tail wagging furiously and drool flying from his dangling tongue as he made a beeline for Daring.  “Oh, no,” Daring just barely managed to say before the dog was upon her, knocking her to the ground like she’d been hit by a car. A car that then proceeded to drool all over her, assaulting her face with licks as it yipped loudly into her ears.  “Off! Get off, you walking shit and drool machine!” Daring shouted, flailing desperately in an attempt to get the dog off her.  “Burney, down!” Phillip shouted at the dog, who immediately jumped off of Daring and bounded up to him, jumping up to cover his face in licks. “Yes, yes, g’day. I missed you, too,” Phillip said, gently shoving the dog off him.  “Down, boy!” Promenade Deck called from the porch as he exited, grinning broadly. Burney gave a short bark and hopped over to his side. “G’day, anklebiters,” the stallion greeted them as he approached. “Sorry, the lad always barks at new ponies, but he’s just really happy to see you. Ready for your surprise?”  “You know I hate unsolved mysteries, Uncle Prom,” Phillip said as Daring got to her hooves, wiping slobber off her face. “Why don’t you just tell us what it is?”  Promenade leaned in closer, grinning conspiratorially. “I found it last week at the Akely-Pip’s bookstore,” he said. “It was just sitting in the box of new books, right there waiting for me!”  “Okay,” Daring rolled her eyes. “I love books as much as any pony, but what’s so special about this book.”  “It wasn’t on the shipping manifest,” Promenade continued. “Akely hadn’t ordered it, didn’t know what it was.”  “So what is it?” Daring pressed.  “I couldn’t be sure at first, so I had to speak to an expert friend of mine,” Promenade continued. “He confirmed everything. Including the message hidden inside. A single symbol written in the corner of each page.”  “Oh, for Faust’s sake, will you just--” Daring started to groan.  “I found it,” Promenade finally declared, ecstasy on his face. “Captain Bushwhacker’s journal! With a message in it leading to her cave!”  Phil and Daring both stared for a long moment of silence. “You’re pulling our tails, Uncle Prom,” Phillip finally said.  “No bull, Phil,” Promenade replied. “It’s the dinky-di. And yes, it’s really got a secret message in it. What else could it be?”  “And you waited until the day after we got here to show it to us?!” Daring shouted, pushing past him and into the house. “Where is it?!”  “You picked the right sheila, Phil,” Promenade chuckled, slapping his nephew on the back as they proceeded inside the house, leaving Burney outside, thumping his tail against the ground.  The wide, oak-paneled hallway with plush red carpeting had several doorways on both sides, opening into a dining room with floor-to-ceiling windows, a living room with a grand piano that had a massive model ship sitting on top of it, and a study with bookshelves and sea charts on every wall. Daring had naturally gravitated to the study and was studying the books through the glass doors, practically salivating as she read the titles.  “Why did you never tell me about your uncle before?” she said to Phil when they entered.  “You never asked,” Phillip replied.  “Okay, ponies, let’s get to cracking!” Promenade said, heading over to a framed chart of the Aushaylian coastal waters mounted on the wall. He pulled it aside to reveal a safe mounted into the wall. He carefully dialed in the combination, and the safe unlocked with a click. “Behold!” he declared, swinging the door open with a flourish.  The other two ponies stared blankly. “Uh…Uncle Prom?” Phillip said, rubbing his forehead. “Where’s the journal?”  Promenade whirled around and stared into the safe in horror, his eyes taking in the empty vault. “Where is it?!” he cried, plunging his hoof into the safe and running it over the metal walls, as if thinking the journal was hiding somewhere and he just couldn’t see it. “No, no, I, I don’t understand! It was here! It was here last night when I put it away! It couldn’t, I don’t--!”  Phil and Daring shared a glance and Daring immediately headed out of the room. Phil trotted over to grab his uncle by the shoulders, shaking him to get his attention.  “Uncle Prom, focus,” he ordered. “Take a deep breath.” He waited for Promenade’s hyperventilating to slow to a more normal pace, then looked him in the eyes. “What happened last night? When did you last see it?”  “I...I got home after the party, let Burney in after the cleaner, and started reading the journal,” Promenade breathed, sitting down and rubbing his temples as he tried to remember. “Around midnight, I put it in the safe and locked it, and went to bed. I’m sure I locked it, I’m sure…”  “Was anypony else here?” Phillip pressed.  “No, no, I was alone. Just me and Burney,” Promenade shook his head.  “Who else knows about the journal?” Phillip continued.  “Akely-Pip, the bookstore owner who gave it to me,” Promenade rattled off. “And my friend Yellow Page, a local historian. He’s been helping me verify the journal’s veracity and transcribe it, and Akely-Pip was helping me with any clues or references.” He frowned and shook his head, gesturing at two piles of typewritten letters on the desk, each stack dedicated to a different messenger. “Of course, they fight like cats and dogs, so I can’t have them in the house at the same time.”  “When were they last here?” Phillip asked.  “Yellow was here yesterday morning,” Promenade replied. “We were doing some more transcriptions and he was helping me work on the code. Akely hasn’t been here for three days.” He glanced back into the safe. “Shit, and all my notes were in there, too!”  “Okay, calm down,” Phillip soothed.  Daring reentered. “There’s no sign of a forced entry anywhere,” she reported.  “And I have the best burglar alarm in the city,” Promenade added, nodding to a well-worn dog bed in the corner. “If anypony came in, Burney’s barking would’ve woken me up.”  “And the rest of the neighborhood,” Daring muttered to herself.  “Who else has a key to this place?” Phillip asked.  “Just your father and my hired cleaner, Spic Span, a new guy; Yellow Page suggested him to me,” Promenade answered. “But Spic does not know about the safe, nor the journal.”  “We’ll still need to talk to him, and the others,” Phillip noted, rubbing his forehead. “Need to check the area.”  He began to prowl around the room, scanning the floor for any evidence. Daring gently beckoned Promenade Deck out of the room and into the hallway so he could work.  “This code,” Daring pressed. “Do you remember any of it?”  “Uh…” Promenade tapped his head in thought. “Yes! Yes, I remember one part that we’d decoded. See, the code was a substitution cipher, but the key kept changing every so often, so we had to--”  “The code,” Daring interrupted.  “Sorry, sorry,” Promenade shook his head. “Let me think...yes, I remember now! The first line of the  ‘From the laughing fire, chase the spring solstice crow to where the rocks weep, and…and, and, and…’” He tapped his head a few more times, grimacing, then snarled. “Damn!”  “We’ll work on that,” Daring said, patting him on the shoulder. “We at least know where they’re going.”  “Safe wasn’t broken into,” Phillip said as he exited the room, sweeping the hallway floors with his eyes. “But I can’t find any evidence here.” He scowled at the carpeting. “Uh...yeah. Some dirt here. Think it’s…” He grunted and shook his head. “Fucking beer, I’m supposed to be on bloody vacation...Uncle Prom, did that cleaner come in last night?”  “Yeah, yeah, he came in while I was at the party,” Promenade nodded. “He was gone by the time I came back. Did a bloody amazing job, too, like always.”  “Right, right, and this definitely isn’t from out front,” Phillip mumbled. “Ugh...came in from back…two tracks here, definitely...definitely a right hind hoof there...” Noting the wide distance between the two faint tracks, he proceeded down the hall to the back door and exited into the yard, still scanning the ground.  The backyard featured a narrow, winding concrete pathway that led from the door to the red picket fence that enclosed the perimeter, separating the property from the street. Patches of flowers stood in the grass like rainbow-colored ships in a sea of green. Phillip paused to study his landscape, wincing as the sunlight burned his eyes, then started slowly walking along the edge of the yard.  “Fuck, no hoofprints,” he muttered to himself. He reached the gate, scowling at the lack of a lock on the latch. “Dammit, always told you about that damn lock,” he grumbled, looking up and down the sidewalk. “Nothing. Fucking nothing,” he finally declared, turning around and heading back inside.  “Anything?” Daring asked. Phillip shook his head. “Damn,” she grunted.  A knock sounded at the door, prompting everypony to look up. Promenade hustled over to the door and opened it to reveal a tall parchment gray unicorn with a light blonde mane and the cutie mark of a legal notebook.  “Oh, g’day,” the stallion greeted them, idly petting Burney on the head as he licked his hoof. “You must be Phillip Finder and Daring Do.”  “Sorry, Yellow, this isn’t a good time,” Promenade said, gently ushering him back.  “Why, what happened?” Yellow Page asked, looking bewildered.  “When was the last time you were here?” Phillip pressed him as he advanced on the stallion.  “Uh...day before yesterday,” Yellow Page stammered, blinking rapidly. “I would’ve come down yesterday, but I knew Prom was going to be at the party, and besides, the cleaner was coming in and there were some things I wanted to point out to him.”  “Did you tell anypony else about the journal?” Phillip continued.  “Er, no,” Yellow replied, his eyes narrowing as he started to recover himself. “Promenade and I both knew the importance of keeping this secret; there would absolutely be thieves out for Bushwhacker and Aherrk’s treasure. Why--?” His eyes widened in horror. “No!”  “Somepony snuck in here last night,” Phillip stated. “Somepony who knew about the journal and where the safe was.”  “Well, it wasn’t bloody me!” Yellow Page protested, his face a mask of shock. “I was home all last night: my wife can attest to that! And I would never steal it! This discovery should be shared with the nation, with the world!”  “Hmm,” Phillip scowled. “If not you, who would want the journal?”  “Anypony who believes in the treasure,” Yellow mused. “As a matter of fact…” He turned around with a scowl. “Akely,” he growled as he leaped onto a waiting blue motorcycle.  “Where are you going?!” Promenade called.  “Akely will know who took it!” Yellow called as he turned the bike around and headed west with a roar and a cloud of foul-smelling smoke.  “Oh, for Faust’s sake,” Daring groaned. “Phil, you stay here and see if Uncle Prom remembers anything else or if you can find anything. I’ll go make sure he doesn’t kill her.” She spread her wings and took off after the bike, grimacing as her pounding head and squirming stomach both let out waves of protest. “Oww, fucking beer!” she snarled as she took off.  “You sure you can find out who took it?” Promenade anxiously asked his nephew.  “We’ll find it, Uncle Prom,” Phillip promised, petting Burney. “One way or another. Now, how about you give me Spic Span’s number?”    Yellow Page stopped in front of a small bookstore that sat on the sidewalk, bats and jack-o’-lanterns sitting in the window, watching passerby with their silly grins.  “Okay, what are you doing?” Daring demanded, landing next to him.  “Akely has been searching for the treasure on and off for years,” Yellow growled. “Spent half her life running around the Outback until she fell into a ravine and busted her leg. She knows every treasure hunter on the island. I bet anything that she was the one behind it!”  Before Daring could stop him, he burst into the store. The small Aborigineigh mare behind the counter looked up.  “Where’s the journal, you little sneak?” Yellow Page snapped at the mare.  “What’re you talking about?” Akely-Pip cried, her eyes wide with alarm.  “You wanted it for yourself, we all know it!” Yellow shouted, causing the two ponies perusing the shelves to look up in surprise. “You got greedy enough to take it all for yourself, you--!”  Daring pushed Yellow Page back with a grunt. “That’s enough! You don’t know she took it and you’re not the detective here.”  “But she--”  “Shut it!” Daring barked. “Now, you’re gonna get outta here and head back home. We’ll get in touch with you later.”  Yellow started to protest, but Daring silenced him with a glare. He huffed and exited, with the two other customers quickly following him out.  “Sorry about that,” Daring sighed to the frightened mare behind the counter as Yellow’s motorcycle roared away. “I’m Daring Do, I’m here for--”  “Oh, yes, you’re Phil’s marefriend,” Akely said, smiling as she recovered herself. “I’m Akely-Pip.” She hopped down from her stool and tottered over to Daring, wincing with every step of the injured leg.  Daring hissed in sympathy when she saw the limb. “That must’ve hurt like hell,” she commiserated.  “Only thing that hurt more was knowing that my days searching the Outback were over,” Akely frowned as she shook Daring’s hoof. “Now, what was Yellow Page pissed about this time?”  “I’m sorry to tell you this,” Daring stated. “Somepony stole the journal and all of Promenade’s notes.”  Akely’s eyes widened with shock and horror. “No! Damn!” She stamped the ground with her front hooves in agitation. “Who do you think did it?”  “We don’t know yet,” Daring replied. “But why would Yellow think it was you?”  Akely scowled. “We...were friends once, but that changed after my accident. The two of us were out on another expedition, but we got lost in a sandstorm. He gave me some bad directions that caused me to fall into that ravine.” She sighed. “I’d been searching the outback since I was a teenager, trying to find Bushwhacker’s treasure, following every lead with Deck’s help: he probably knows the most about Bushwhacker out of anypony in Sydneigh. But with my leg busted, that was all over. I blamed Yellow Page for it for a long time. We argued a lot, and I...said some things that I can’t take back. He hasn’t forgiven me for that.”  Akely took a breath and looked up at Daring. “But I swear to you, I would never steal the journal!” she declared. “Yes, I wanted the journal for myself when Promenade found it in that box, but…” She looked at her leg and let out a bitter huff. “We both agreed that he was better suited for it.” She smiled wanly at Daring. “Of course, I see now who it was really meant for.”  Daring smiled briefly before returning to seriousness. “Where were you last night?”  “I was home with my son,” Akely replied. “We were up late stargazing, he can attest to that.”  Daring nodded. “Can you think of anypony else who would want to take the journal?”  “You’d have to know about it first, and myself, Yellow Page, and Promenade Deck were the only ones who knew about it,” Akely-Pip replied. “I know I didn’t tell anypony, and Prom definitely wouldn’t, but Yellow…” She scowled bitterly. “He never was known for indiscretion,” she admitted.  “Hmm,” Daring mused. “So if I wanted to go treasure hunting in the outback, who would I contact?”  “There are plenty of guides who hang around the Billabong, a local bar,” Akely replied. “It’s a major tourist trap, but if you want somepony who knows how the bush, that’s the place to go. And there are plenty of ponies there who want to be the one to find Bushwhacker’s treasure.” She smiled feebly. “Spirits know, Yellow, Promenade, and I spent far too much time there.”  “Okay,” Daring nodded. “One other thing: does ‘From the laughing fire, chase the spring solstice crow to where the rocks weep’ mean anything to you?”  “It does, actually,” the Aborigineigh replied, sitting down. “Prom may be a Bushwhacker expert, but he doesn’t know squat about our legends.” She scoffed and then cleared her throat. “Anyway, there’s a tale about the Pleiades star cluster: according to my tribe, they were originally the Karatgurk, seven greedy sisters. They alone had the secret of fire, and they carried burning coals on sticks so that they alone could cook the food that they dug out of the ground. One day, Crow saw that the other ponies were freezing at night and had to eat cold food, so he decided to trick the sisters into giving up their coals. "Crow had some of his snake friends hide in an ant mound and told the sisters that he’d found out that ant larvae were tastier than the yams that they ate. The Karatgurk started digging into the ant mound and were attacked by the snakes. The sisters started hitting the snakes with their sticks with such force that the coals flew off. Crow hid the coals in a kangaroo skin bag and flew to his tribe, giving them the coals and teaching them to make fire. When the Karatgurk discovered the theft, they chased after Crow, but he flew into the night sky. Every night, he taunts the sisters into chasing him again so that they can never steal fire from our people again.”  “And what about the ‘laughing fire?’” Daring asked.  “Hmm...laughing makes me think of a kookaburra,” Akely replied. “You ever hear a kookaburra sing? It sounds like laughing.”  “So the clue is to follow where the Pleiades dip beneath the horizon during the spring solstice from the kookaburra nest…” Daring mused. “Maybe Prom will have some other ideas about that. Where’s the Billabong?”  “Take the second left down this road, then a right at the war memorial,” Akely-Pip told her, pointing out the window. “Keep going straight until you hit the Sydney Tower Eye--that’s the big needle-shaped building--then it’s the second right and it’ll be right in front of you. If you get to the bridge, you missed the turn.”  “Thanks,” Daring nodded. “Mind if I borrow your phone?”  “Go ahead,” Akely-Pip said, gesturing to the phone on the desk.  Daring picked up the phone and told the operator to put her through to Promenade Deck. After a few moments of the line ringing, the phone clicked as it was picked up.  “G’day,” Promenade answered, his voice croaky from fatigue.  “It’s Daring,” Daring said. “Is Phil still there?”  The phone was passed over. “What’s up?” Phillip’s voice spoke into the phone.  “I just went over to Akely’s place,” Daring told him. “She said she was home with her son all last night, and both she and Yellow Page are pointing hooves at each other. She also told me apparently, the best place to find a guide to go treasure hunting is the Billabong.”  “I know it,” Phillip replied. In the background, Daring heard a rapping at the door, accompanied by a chorus of barking from Burmey. “Police are here,” Phillip stated. “I’m going to talk to them and then I’ll meet you there.”  “Got it,” Daring said, then tapped the mouthpiece with her hoof. “Good luck boop!” Chuckling to herself at the unamused silence on the other end, Daring hung up and started to head for the door.  “Daring,” Akely-Pip called as she reached the door. Daring turned around to see a dark shadow passing over the bookmare’s face. “Be careful,” Akely warned her. “Ponies have hunted for Bushwhacker’s treasure for years. Some have proven willing to kill over it.”  “Well, that’s cheerful,” Daring commented. “But thanks for the concern.” With a tip of her pith helmet, Daring exited the bookstore, casting a reluctant look around at the shelves stocked full with books, then spread her wings and took to the warm, sun-kissed air, heading down the street towards her next target...and some aspirin.