Under the light of Luna’s waning moon a trio of ponies skulked across Colistrano’s rooftops. Their forms were illuminated by the dim streetlamps below, just barely highlighting their journey toward the governor’s manor at the cliffside. Light ignored their matte armor. They moved silently, with not even the clash of hooves against the freshly tiled roofs alerting the few ponies below to their presence as pairs of leathery wings carried them across the longer gaps of the city center. They glided across the night breeze as if part of the wind itself until they finally landed atop the row of houses just opposite the manor.
“Nightshade, you’re on recon, we’ll wait for your all-clear.”
Nightshade leapt from the roof. The leader produced a small stone from a side pouch, illuminating at his touch. “Team two, status.”
“Team two here.” An image rose up from the stone, taking the shape of another bat pony. “Status is nominal. Cliffside clear for ascent with sightlines to package. On your mark, commander.”
“Kindle, deploy the field.”
“Roger, commander.” Kindle produced a round capsule from his saddlebag. Along its polished surface were small runes that gave no discernable light of their own, but glimmered in the falling moonlight above. With a quick throw it sailed through the night, traveling over the mansion’s stone and iron fencing as it burst into a silent spray of sparks that twirled around each other before settling along the house’s perimeter.
“Commander Glint, we’re all green,” Kindle said. “House is silenced. Ready to move in”
“Copy. Nightshade should be-”
Glint’s words were silenced by a high-pitched screech from the manor. Nightshade had perched himself upon the roof, releasing a series of chirps across the night air to the only other ponies with the ears to hear his cry.
“That’s the signal. Let’s advance.”
Glint tapped the sending stone twice before he and Kindle spread their wings and lept from the building, gliding across the barren street to join their third member. Together they slowly crept along the roof to the western edge of the house. Glint paused and peeked over the edge. No light came from within the windows, and not even the moon’s dwindling glow reached this side of the house, allowing the three bat ponies the cover they needed to climb over the edge and slowly descend with controlled flaps of their leathery wings. They reached the first row of windows and slowly pushed one open.
“Inside looks different from the reports,” Kindle whispered.
“It’s been months since we lost this outpost,” Nightshade replied, slipping in behind his team. “Of course he changed it.”
The interior was draped in darkness, though not even the shadows could hinder the trio of bat ponies’ sight. Their trained night vision gave them a clear view of the upper floor and all of its posh adornments. Trotting silently through the hallway of rich wooden decor and large paintings lead them to the grand staircase at the center of the house, a wide lobby area flanked by more hallways, and carefully they descended in practiced formation.
“Fan out, find Aristo. We’ll meet back here in fifteen.” Glint’s order was acknowledged by his subordinates as they dispersed throughout the manor. While Nightshade and Glint went to explore the east wing of the house, Kindle followed the path to another room.
He found himself surrounded by looming bookshelves, filled with tomes of both the recognizable and the obscure. He skulked around the room with precise hooves and eager eyes. Books on proper edicate and ancient magic lined the walls, worn photos showing a trio of happy ponies sat beside one of the room’s two sofas, and trinkets whose origin Kindle could only scarcely imagine sat on display along the mantle of the fireplace. His eyes followed the smooth mantle to the side table next to him where he spied a lone frame housing the sketch of a pony.
“Kindle.” Glint’s announcement almost knocked the bat pony from his hooves as Kindle clutched his chest. His superior, however, frowned at the sight.
“Y-Yes, sir?”
“Nightshade’s still clearing the east wing and the master bedroom is locked,” Glint whispered, pointing a hoof towards a spiral staircase in the corner of the study, leading up. “That’s the other access point.”
Kindle nodded, following behind Glint as they silently crossed the room toward the staircase. Glint went first, skipping every other step to aid his ascent as Kindle kept watch on the study, before ascending himself. Passing through the top of the stairs revealed a large, open bedroom lined with white drapery along the row of open windows. The fabric rippled in the breeze and brushed against Kindle as he stepped onto the bedroom floor. Beside him, Glint stood still.
“I don’t believe it,” he said, eyes fixed on the bed. In the center of the room sat a large, white and utterly pristine bed that, as far as Kindle could see, held no occupant.
“Where is he?” Kindle asked, scanning the room.
“He should be here. Our reports say he’s in here, every night, in this exact spot.”
“Maybe he’s taking a piss or something?” The jab earned Kindle a sharp nudge.
“Don’t joke,” Glint said flatly. “That prissy bastard screwed the vice general and landed him in prison, and there’s nothing he’d like more than Aristo’s head on a plate when Nox and his boys break him out.”
“Right… sorry.” Kindle could only stare as Glint walked towards the bed, his head low and surveying every detail his keen eyes could find. Kindle hesitantly joined in the search, distracted by his partner’s almost feverish searching. He left Glint to his hunt and walked to the bedroom door. Upon close inspection, Kindle could see a series of runes circling the ornate door knob that glowed a fluttering blue light. His hoof reached out for it before he lept back at sudden banging against the other side.
“Status!”
“I didn’t touch anything! Something just.. there’s something outside the door.”
Glint and Kindle stood flank to flank before the now still door. A firm glare traveled from Kindle to the door as the commander carefully stepped toward it and, as if scared to offend it, reached bit by bit for the knob and twisted. The door swung open.
“Nothing… what did you do?”
“I-I don’t know. There’s runes on the knob, a-and the damn door just-”
“You don’t know?” Glint’s powerful foreleg pressed Kindle against the wall, his tongue held in place by two firm eyes. “You don’t get to ‘not know’. You don’t get to misjudge. When you don’t know, your intel is bad. When your intel is bad, you make mistakes. And when you make mistakes, that’s when he shows up!”
“W-What, who? You m-mean… him?”
“Bingo, now stick close, we’re checking the rest of these rooms, then we regroup with Nightshade and team two.”
Kindle’s hooves quivered as he eagerly obeyed his commander’s orders. A long row of windows stretched out before them on the left side of the hallway, and Glint stepped in front of the first door on their right. He studied the lock before producing a small metal rod from beneath his armor and slid it into the lock, carefully twisting the tool in his hoof, and pushed open the door. Inside was a bedroom nearly half the size of the previous one and sparsely decorated.
“Next one,” Glint stated. The two approached the second door.
“So… you’ve seen him?”
“I’ve fought him.”
“What happened? Is he really a pony?”
“You’re trotting on thin ice, soldier.”
“I’m sorry, sir, but… I wanna know what I’m in for.”
Glint paused his lockpicking and turned to Kindle. His once callous expression began to wane, and with a final click of the lock he pushed open the second door before he spoke.
“We were ordered to move weapons from Baltimare. Bombs and such. They were supplies for Nox’s team to break the vice general out of that hidden prison, left over after we lost Manehatten Bay, and too much contraband in one place was bad for business. I was tasked with guarding the transport with Streak and Glider. You’ve never met them, and I’d never heard them scream before. We were on the transport heading out of town along the south road toward our camp in Horse Shoe Bay. Before I knew it, that… thing was on them, and it just lashed out at me whenever I tried to save them.”
“‘It’? Luna’s mane, he isn’t a pony, is he?”
“The Ghost is a monster. A monster that can see in the dark, hunt us down no matter where we hide. Even with the speed of the transport behind me I couldn’t outrun it, and when it gets you it’s like being trapped in darkness. Real darkness. No stars, no moon, just the Ghost and whatever it… I had to leap from the bridge just to lose it.” Glint took the time to catch his breath and his composure before opening the door to an empty office room. “It… He’s been following us ever since.”
“Do you think he’s here?” Kindle whispered.
“Our scouts don’t think so. I trust their intel, but we’re Night Guard. We expect monsters.”
“But if they’re wrong, a-and I’m not saying they are, what’s our exit strategy?”
“We find that pompous jackass, take his head, and bolt out of here like our lives depend on it, because who knows what the Ghost will do if he catches us.”
“Which he won’t… right?”
Glint’s expression hardened as they continued toward the final door. Met by yet another empty room the two returned to the staircase and made their way down, bathed in the moonlight of the towering window behind them, walking close to the railing as they scanned the lobby for signs of their third.
“Nightshade, report.”
Nightshade emerged from the dark behind the staircase on Glint’s order. Kindle nearly lept at the sudden entrance, but Glint showed no emotion, following Nightshade’s path toward them.
“The lower east wing is clear, and so are the south grounds along the cliff face.”
“What about team two? Any word from them?”
“Negative,” Nightshade said, prompting Glint to produce the sending stone from his equipment.
“Team two, report. What’s the status of the upper east wing and the grounds?”
Silence traveled between the three invaders. As Glint once more tapped on the sending stone and spoke, his ears twitched at the small magical pinging that bounced along the room. His head snapped from side to side, prompting his partners to search for the source of the noise, before Kindle’s frantic eyes turned upwards. The scream he had suppressed all this time finally escaped. Three bat ponies fell from the ceiling of the lobby.
“Lock that down, Kindle!” Glint barked.
“He got them! The Ghost got them!”
“Shut up, Kindle!” Nightshade crossed the distance between him and the panicking pony before slamming a hoof over his muzzle.
“Operation’s compromised,” Glint said hurriedly, stamping toward the front door. “Evac through the corridor and break for the nearest exit. We’ll regroup at the foot of the gorge in-”
A cascade of metallic clicks rang out through the mansion’s halls, each offending sound louder than the last, and familiar runes began to glow brightly along the heavy front door. The three bat ponies soon found themselves flanking each other in the center of the lobby. Nightshade produced a dagger and held it in his teeth, ears trained for the slightest sound, and Glint craned his neck to survey the darkness around them, but Kindle could hardly keep his legs straight, knees trembling as his senses desperately reached out to find something, anything, that could spare him from what he feared was coming. His last words gnawed at Glint’s mind.
“G-Glint… I don’t want to die.”
“Gentlecolts.”
The single word shattered their resolve. A powerful blast of smoke erupted from the space between them as they spun around each other, nearly tripping against their hooves, struggling to maintain formation. Stinging fumes slowly invaded their senses. Tearful eyes desperately scanned the room as each agonizing second passed without sight of their stalker, a series of painful coughs spilling from their lips. Then, Kindle’s muscles froze. Their prison of fog began to dissipate, and the bat pony’s eyes locked onto the top of the grand staircase, where he was met with the silhouette of his fears, standing against the moonlight.
“You handled the ‘entering’... why don’t I do the ‘breaking’?”
Nightshade snapped from his smoke-induced panic and charged up the stairs towards the shadow. A hoof came down upon his muzzle, bringing a loud crack from the strike and forcing Nightshade to the ground. The other two invaders moved to attack the Ghost as he launched himself from the top of the stairs and draped the group in his cloak’s grasp. Powerful blows lashed out against the bat ponies. With each strike Glint’s resolve was splintered, and with flailing hooves he managed to dig himself out from under the cloak’s grasp, clamoring away along the cold stone floor.
He felt a tug against his hind leg. As he looked back he followed the length of black from himself to it’s shadowy source before gravity surrendered its control of him, soaring through the air and crashing against a far wall. The Ghost stood to his full height and prepared himself for Nightshade’s advance. The bat pony swiped through the air with the knife, inches away from the wispy form of the Ghost and growing more ferocious with each attack. The onslaught was halted against a gloved hoof landing just below the ribs, knocking him to the floor with a groan. Kindle, alone, remained standing on trembling legs as the smoke finally faded.
“P-Please… don’t kill me! W-We’re just here for Aristo. We… We thought we lost you!”
“Bold to assume you could.” The Ghost began his slow, creeping advance toward Kindle.
“No! No, no, no, I-I meant no disrespect mister… Ghost… sir.”
Air was leaving Kindle’s quivering lungs faster than it could enter, and his blurring, stinging vision only amplified the dreadful visage now consuming his sight. He barely even noticed the gloved hoof latch onto his saddlebag, slowly turning it’s flap to inspect an icon of a shield and crossed spears upon it. The Ghost grimaced.
“You’re one of Shield Wall’s conspirators,” he growled. “Maybe killing you isn’t so bad an idea, after all.”
“No! No, please don’t. If you let us go, you’ll never see us again. Promise!”
“Breaking into a noble’s home, threatening to take his head, all in the name of your criminal master? I think I’d much rather keep you right here, within my grasp.”
A jolt shot through the Ghost’s leg. He spun towards the image of a knife plunged into his flesh by Glint, still crawling on the floor and shooting him a wicked glare.
“Run, Kindle! This bastard’s mine.”
Glint’s warcry announced the sudden flurry of hooves that collided against the cloaked figure. The Ghost weaved through the strikes, ignoring the searing pain in his leg and stepping over the unconscious bodies of Glint’s comrades. Glint threw a strike against the fluttering cloak and nearly tripped as his leg landed on Nightshade’s torso. With his opponent off balance, the Ghost pivoted around and threw his hoof up into Glint’s chin and sent him soaring across the lobby and into the staircase. He spied the Kindle fleeing the scene.
Instead of giving chase, the Ghost approached the front double doors and dispelled the runes with the wave of a small key. A length of his cloak shot out and upwards, whipping along the front of the house and pulling him through the doorway, onto the roof, with tremendous speed, watching Kindle clamber onto the roof.
“No point running, Kindle. Surrender now and no more harm will come to you.”
“Where’s the commander? Oh, Luna’s mane, you killed him, didn’t you! S-Stay away from me, don’t kill me!”
A sigh escaped the Ghost’s lips as Kindle frantically ran to the edge of the roof. With a wince the knife was pulled from the Ghost’s legs and launched toward the bat pony, slicing into Kindle’s side, causing him to stumble. Still, he flapped his leathery wings and lifted off into the sky. The Ghost merely looked on.
“Gilda,” he called out, signalling a sudden gust of wind that sent his cloak fluttering beside him. The large gryphon landed beside him, brushing her white fringe back with a claw.
“Sup, raghead.” Her piercing yellow eyes stayed fixed on the fleeing pony.
“Would you catch him for me, please?”
“Wassa matter? Screw the pooch with that little knife trick of yours?”
“Did you like it? That knife was a gift from one of our guests. He wrapped it in my leg.”
“Should’a thrown it sooner, now look at him. The doofus can hardly fly.” Gilda waved her claw out in front of her, pointing at the bat pony flailing in the air.
“That’s the point, feather face. I sliced his pectoral so that you-”
“Catch him. Yeah, yeah, I’m on it. When Gorn asks, tell him who really saved the day, okay?”
Gilda’s smug face vanished in a blur of fur and claws as the feathered missile glided beneath the stars, far over the struggling Kindle. The Ghost watched her imposing wings eclipse the moon with their full length. Then she dove. Powerful brown wings snapped tight to her body and Gilda fell toward Kindle with outstretched claws, earning a shriek as she snagged him in her grasp and carried her victim along the air and down toward the entrance of the mansion. The Ghost gingerly lept after them, spreading his cloak and gliding safely to the ground. He found them in the open doorway of the mansion, before a suspiciously empty lobby.
“Spill it, bat boy, where’d your boss go?”
“I-I don’t know!”
Kindle held two trembling hooves between Gilda’s glistening claw and his own face, a single eye peering through the gap at the Ghost. Gilda turned with a huff.
“They’re all missing! Now this dweeb is giving me the runaround.”
“I’m not, I swear! Please, I don’t know anything more.”
“What was the plan, Kindle,” the Ghost said, now looming over the bat pony. “You and five other ponies, wearing Night Guard equipment and sporting his symbol, break into this house to kill an aristocrat. Why?”
“The commander said he was one of the vice general’s enemies, some kind of sting operation with the crown. We were… here to kill him.”
“And that’s it? Nothing else you’d like to share with me?” His cloak began to move on its own, slithering around the quivering pony.
“N-No, sir, I… I…” Kindle’s eyes rolled into his skull, and with a final sigh he fell backwards onto the floor.
“Oh great, you scared him to death.”
“He’s not dead, he’s unconscious. Should be out for a few minutes. Call Lily at the Patrol and Protection office and tell her Aristo needs her. She’ll have Kindle sorted out.”
“Got it, lemme bag ‘em, first. Maybe you’ll be smart enough to make some kinda ‘sleep gas’, next time.”
“Didn’t hear any complaints about my alchemy when it melted your cage back in Baltimare. And here I thought you’d be grateful.”
“Yeah, yeah, your freaky new hobby saved my ass, big whoop. Go check on the others while you’re laughin’ it up, I’ll deal with your latest victim.”
Muffled swearing could still be heard as Kindle was hoisted onto Gilda’s back and the Ghost entered the mansion, turning down the hall toward the study. A hoof reached out toward one of the oil lamps and twisted the key, summoning a small spark from within as light covered the rows of books. The same hoof pulled away his masked cowl to reveal a long silvery mane. He rubbed the argent hairs vigorously, attempting to relieve any stress he could before approaching the large fireplace before him. He rested his hoof against a small picture frame housing a familiar face. Amber eyes admired the rendition of Darrox before pulling on the sketch, awakening a series of clicks traveling down from within the stone fireplace, pulling apart the construct before him and revealing a long, narrow passageway downward.
He descended. At the bottom of the stairs was the flickering of torch light, and soon the Ghost found himself surrounded by the tall stone pillars of the mansion’s undercroft. Domed ceilings loomed above him, roaring fires were housed in sconces lining the entire room, and in the center of the stone forest sat a well lit and well supplied workshop.
“Silver!” A chestnut mare dashed to him, wrapping her forelegs around him in a hug. “Are you okay? I heard all the commotion upstairs and… Silver, you’re bleeding!”
“It’s fine, mom, just a flesh wound,” he laughed.
“Come over here, sweetie, right in this chair. I’ll fetch the gauze… Silver Spade, you get in this chair and let me stitch that wound!”
“Alright, I’m going!” Silver hurriedly limped toward the chair, chuckling the whole way as his mother walked toward a workstation decorated with metal boxes.
“Where are the others? They didn’t leave you alone down here, did they?”
“Oh, no, Gorn is… well, you know that callous old gryphon could never sit still.”
“Not the most comforting thought.” Silver preemptively winced as an alcohol-covered cotton ball closed in on his open wound.
“Stop being a foal. You fight criminals, for Celestia’s sake.”
“You always use too much, though. Besides, I can stitch myself up just fi-.” A sharp hiss escaped his lips.
“You have such a loose definition of ‘just fine’, sweetie. You nearly stitched it crooked last time.” She traded the cotton ball for a nearby needle, carefully plunging it past the white fur and into Silver’s leg.
“Hey, Ms. Hearts, is he being a big baby again?” Gilda’s commentary earned a stare from Silver and a giggle from his surgeon. “The fuzz just picked up our nutjobs, minus their leader, of course. Where’s Gorn?”
“‘Bout time ye rounded that rabble up, Gilda.”
The source of the raspy voice soon revealed itself and stepped into the undercroft, torchlight barely reflecting off the aged gryphon’s black and greying feathers. On cue, Gorn stepped out from one of the undercroft's flanking rooms, searching for the source of his name, eyes locked onto Gilda.
“Bilge rat, need a word with ye.”
“Glad you could finally join us,” Silver said, wincing at the final tug of thread through his stitched leg.
“Don’t be takin’ an attitude. While yer in here lettin’ mommy kiss yer boo boos I been takin’ some ‘initiative’, as you fancy folk like to say… no offense meant, Honey.”
“Oh, none taken,” she replied with a wry eyebrow.
Gorn produced a hefty stack of letters, pulling them from a saddle bag with his dark and jagged claw and tossing them onto a table as he approached Silver. Scrolls, letters, and sheafs of paper peaked out from the lip of the bag.
“Found meself these. Lookin’ like they been a touch too nosey, of late.”
“They’ve been intercepting my mail? They’re all open, too. I guess they really were thorough with those reports on me.”
“Aye. Hope none of yer more private affairs are betwixt those letters. ‘Specially that one.”
The jagged claw pointed toward the largest letter of them all. Thick, bound in a glossy blue ribbon and decorated with a large wax seal depicting the featureless head of a pony. Silver discarded the rest of the stack and admired the thickness of the parchment as it rolled open. He read aloud.
“‘Dearest Lord Aristo. It is with most humble apologies that I write to you now, for your admirable donations to us and our cause are naught but true charity. Dealing in wine, as you know, can be a most trifling business, and one that demands true devotion to not only the craft but to those so adventurous to explore it. As such, it is with a heavy heart I inform you the shipment of Baltimare Reserve has been lost in transit and cannot be recovered. Your long-standing patronage, however, is one that shall not be forgotten even in the event of such disservice, so we, the stewards of the Nine Night Winery invite you to our headquarters in Canterlot, with all expenses paid, to taste our newest Canterlot Bar Dry as a most sincere thanks for your commitment to our brand. We eagerly await your reply. Sincerely, the Nine Night Wine Company.’”
“Silver, I didn’t know you drank wine,” Honey Hearts said.
“Not, eh… not exactly what I thought ye’d be into, there. And ‘ere I thought it’d be important.”
“Princess Luna wants me to come to Canterlot. The royal dungeon is compromised.”
Everyone in the room simply stared at Silver. They occasionally shared a glance between each other, as if searching for the answer to the silent question their eyes all asked. Silver let out an airy laugh.
“Princess Luna and I set up a system to make sure Shield Wall couldn’t get out of prison. We kept it secret and set up the Nine Night Company as a cover for the princesses’ maximum security facility in Mt. Canterlot. The ‘us’ and ‘our’ tells me it’s a letter from her, and the ‘lost in transit’ kind of speaks for itself.”
“Not really,” Gilda chided.
“It’s code for if control of the prison is lost, but then she used ‘cannot be recovered’ which… which means the prison is destroyed.” His brow tensed at the declaration.
“Destroyed, does that mean… does that mean he’s gone?” Honey looked to Silver with hopeful eyes.
“I don’t know. Luna would’ve said ‘delivered to another patron’ if a prisoner had escaped, so… maybe.”
Silver could almost hear the gears turning in the minds of his friends as they processed his revelation, and soon the undercroft was alive with the cheers of its occupants. Honey collapsed onto the bloody chair Silver once used. She glared at the stone floor with a firm gaze as she nearly went limp,hooves covering her quivering mouth. Gorn, however, cracked the widest smile Silver had ever seen the gryphon make as he reached into his bag and pulled out a thick, molasses colored bottle and popped the cork.
“Ye hear that, Darrox? He’s dead! The vile bastard’s dead!” The gryphon’s cry echoed across the pillars, slapping Gilda’s shoulder.
“By Guto’s ass, he better be!”
“Do you know what this means Silver? That horrible stallion can never hurt anypony again. Not Abby, not your father, nopony!” Honey stood from the chair and fell against Silver. Tears trailed from her cheeks as Silver held her with his free hoof, staring into the dim light of the undercroft.
Despite the jubilation around him his mind was elsewhere. A lightness filled his head. Fuzziness built up behind his eyes as Silver’s vision faded out and in again, as if his mind was incapable of fully accepting the words in the letter.
“‘Cannot be recovered’,” he whispered, reading it again and again until the shock finally waned.
“So what about the rest of that stuff? Does it say how he died?” Gilda looked to Silver with a wicked grin, eager to hear more.
“What? Oh, no. No, the letter’s not about him. Luna says ‘Canterlot Bar Dry’ in this. The ‘Canterlot’ is, well, the city, and ‘Bar’ is our codeword for Midnight Gavel, Shield Wall’s old partner turned informant.” Silver watched as Gorn spat at the mention of the name.
“That milk drinkin’ sod? An’ what be his role in this?”
“He’s dead. ‘Dry’ means he’s been murdered. Poor guy.”
“‘Poor guy’? Seriously? Didn’t he help Shield Wall for, like, twenty years or something?” Gilda asked, her excitement diminished.
“Until he confessed in court. He’s been on our side since, squeezing Shield Wall for information and following up on any leads he could inform the princesses about. He’s the reason we knew these Night Guard were going to attack the house tonight. If he’s been killed...”
“Are you going to Canterlot?” Honey asked.
“It’d be bad to ignore a summons from Princess Luna, and I think this is worth our attention. With some luck we’ll at least learn who was behind the attack tonight. Gorn, get the Tornado ready to head out tomorrow morning, if you’re lucky maybe you’ll find one of his teeth.”