//------------------------------// // Case Twenty-Two, Chapter Five: Shipwreck // Story: Ponyville Noire: Rising Nightmares // by PonyJosiah13 //------------------------------// “She’s seaworthy enough,” the scruffy copper-coated hippogriff said, nodding at the golden boat that was bobbing in the water. Straight On ‘Til Morning was painted on the bow in baby blue lettering. “I’ve been taking out wreck divers for years, I can get you to what you’re looking for.”  Daring Do gingerly hopped into the yacht and made her way to the pilothouse, studying the controls with an imperious frown. “Fast, light…”  She turned and held up the chart where she’d labeled the search area where the Celestia had gone down. “How long would it take you to get us out there?”  Captain Coral examined the chart thoughtfully. “Better part of a day to get there if the weather cooperated,” he said. “Take a day to search the area and another day back.”  “Fine,” Daring replied, turning to the sonar display on the rack.  “I got that especially for finding wrecks,” the hippogriff explained. He scoffed and shook his head. “I still say that wanting to dive down into a sunken ship and swim around is crazy, but there are a few ponies who want to do it, and I figured if somepony can get money out of it, it might as well be me.”  “Sound logic,” Daring nodded. She glared at the setting sun that was dipping towards the western horizon as if cursing it for daring to end the day and cut off their plans to go searching immediately.  “Is it dangerous down there?” Autumn asked.  “Wreck diving is tricky,” Daring admitted. “It’ll be dark and cramped, you can’t just swim straight up if you’re in trouble, and you can very easily get lost and trapped if you’re not careful.”  “And careful is what you’re known for,” Strider commented with a smirk. Daring replied with a smile.  “What about sharks?” Autumn added, looking deeply nervous.  “No, no dangerous sharks in these waters,” Captain Coral assured her. “Worst we get are makos and hammerheads, and those will leave you alone if you keep your distance.”  Autumn let out a relieved breath. “That’s good to know,” she said.  “But she’s right: it’s still dangerous,” Coral commented, glancing at Daring. “Whatever you’re looking for, it’d better be worth it.”  “Worth plenty,” Phillip said calmly. “Be ready to set out early in the morning.”  “Aye-aye,” Coral grumbled, shrugging as his passengers disembarked back onto the dock.  As they headed back up the dock, their path was intercepted by Detective Rule Enforcer, who was grinding a cigarette in his teeth with a malevolent glare.  “Having fun?” he groused.  “Loads,” Daring smirked at him. “Wish you could come and enjoy a nice relaxing voyage with us, but I think you’ll be busy.”  “Yeah, hunting down your thieves,” Enforcer groused. “I’m sure you think that this little treasure hunt of yours is important, but some of us have actual work to do.”  “Detective, I know and appreciate all the hard work that you’re putting into this,” Strider said diplomatically. “And I’ll include in my report exactly how helpful you were. But I trust Phil and Daring’s judgment, and I believe that this is an avenue of investigation worth following. I’ll accompany you to the station and see what else we can do to narrow the search area down.”  Enforcer gave a disdainful sniff, drawing in a cloud of smoke. “And we’d definitely appreciate your help, Agent,” he drawled, deliberately blowing smoke at Strider.  “Good,” Strider replied, barely blinking. “I’ll follow you.” He nodded goodbye to the others and followed Rule Enforcer up the street.  Daring rolled her eyes. “Stuck-up, incompetent prick wouldn’t know how to handle a clue if it bit him in his giant--”  “Oh, forget him,” Autumn waved it off. “Let’s just find someplace for dinner and a hotel so we can get rested and be raring to go tomorrow morning! What you in the mood for? It’d be a shame to come to the Griffish Isles and not have some fish and chips. Oh, wait, that’s more of a breakfast thing, isn’t it? Maybe some bangers and mash instead. Or, hey, maybe haggis. I’ve always heard about that, it’s supposed to be really good!”  “Autumn, do you know what haggis is?” Daring said with a small smile.  “Well, no,” Autumn admitted. “Do you?”  Daring leaned in and whispered the answer into Autumn’s ear. The kirin froze, her face turning from a smile to a revulsed grimace as fast as a traffic signal. “Ewwww! Ponies eat that?!”  “Mostly griffons and hippogriffs, but yes,” Daring said as she and Phillip both chortled.  “Okay, no haggis! Just the bangers and mash!” Autumn declared, her disgust vanishing quickly. “C’mon, I’m hungry!”  “We’re coming,” Daring said with a small smile, following the kirin as she bounded down the street.  “Does she know what sausages are made of?” Phillip whispered.  “Shush,” Daring whispered back through a snicker.  Red Herring glared at the file atop his desk, scowling at the photograph of the steel-colored unicorn with a smokey black mane and beard as if the stallion in question had just insulted him. “There’s only so many places somepony like Iron Forge can hide,” Flash said from the other side of the desk. “It’s only been a couple of hours since the warrant was issued. He’ll turn up, and then we’ll get some answers out of him.”  “We’d better,” Red growled, turning and glaring out the window. The sun had long fallen behind the horizon and Ponyville slumbered beneath a blanket of snow, glistening under the distant light of the stars and the harsh glow of the many city lights that still shone from the windows as the denizens prepared for rest. “That freak is still out there.”  Flash looked at his partner with concern, noting the heavy bags beneath his eyes. “Red, it’s been a long day,” he said. “Go home.”  “Kid, one thing you’re gonna learn is that we don’t keep regular hours,” Red groused through a yawn.  “Don’t I know it,” a mare’s voice came from the door.  Red and Flash both looked up to see a pale yellow pegasus with a wavy sea green mane standing in the doorway, a weak smile on her face.  “Uh…hey,” Red said, standing up slowly. “What are you doing here?”  “I can’t drop in and see my ex-husband, the father of my child?” Honeydew asked. “You told me that you needed me at my best last night, Red,” Flash said. “Well, we need you at your best, too.” He exited with a smile. “G’night, sarge,” he declared before departing.  “That kid,” Red huffed before turning to his ex-wife. “I forget a play or a game something again?”  “Well, no, not this time,” Honeydew replied, taking a seat in a chair next to the desk. She and Red both leaned forward slightly, remaining just out of the other’s reach.  “Lionheart get any practice with that mitt?” Red asked after a few moments of awkward silence.  Honeydew smiled. “He loves that thing,” she said. “Practically sleeps with it. And he drags me outside to get some practice every week.”  Red let out a chuckle. “Yeah, that sounds like Lionheart,” he sighed.  “Red, why can’t you take a rest once in a while?” Honeydew asked.  Red sighed. “It’s this case, Dew. I--”  “There will always be a case, Red,” Honeydew sighed. “That’s what I tried to tell you for years. There’ll always be a case, and another case, and another case. But your son is only gonna be young once. And he needs his father.”  Red hung his head and mopped his messy brown mane. “...I was a shitty dad, wasn’t I?” he admitted.  Honeydew tentatively reached forward and placed a hoof over Red’s free limb. “You weren’t shitty,” she soothed him.  “I still could’ve tried harder,” Red replied, refusing to meet her eyes.  “Then what’s stopping you from trying again?” Honeydew urged. “Lion’s still young, and I’m still here.” She turned the case file on his desk upside down, hiding Iron Forge’s face from the world. “Or do you just get off on complaining all the damn time without actually trying to change anything?”  Red finally looked up at her, then at his desk. A small smile cracked his lips as he stood up.  “Hell with it,” he admitted. “It’s not like you can divorce me again.”  Honeydew let out a snort despite herself. “That’s the spirit,” she said, leading Red out of the office.  As he closed the door behind her and proceeded through the mostly silent floor of cubicles towards the door, Red hesitantly extended a wing and draped it over Honeydew’s shoulders. She stiffened briefly, then nestled up against him with a small sigh. The smile on Red’s face broadened as they proceeded through the doors to the stairway.  “That place on Thirteenth that you like still open?” he asked.  “The Coffee Corner. It’s still there, but I haven’t been there since we divorced,” Honeydew admitted.  “Me neither,” Red admitted. “Heck with it, my treat.”  Honeydew’s smile broadened as well as they started to descend the stairs. “I’d like that.”  The sun had only half-risen over the horizon, but Straight On ‘Til Morning was already pulling away from the docks of Portsbeak.  Captain Coral took a draught of pure black coffee from his flask, gently coaxing his ship past the buoys marking the boundaries of the No Wake Zone. He checked the chart spread out before him, rolling his cigarette from one side of his beak to the other as he considered his path to the target.  “Our best option would be to head to the Isles of Ice,” Coral stated to the mare next to him. “We can stop to refuel briefly, eat lunch, and be on our way.”  Daring Do nodded tersely. “Why couldn’t it have sunk closer to shore?” she grumbled, adjusting the life jacket that she and her companions were all wearing.  Out on the deck, Phillip tucked his trilby beneath his vests, then stuck a cigarette into his mouth and held it up to his lighter, taking a long drag on the smoke. He leaned against the railing, eyes scanning the other boats that bobbed up and down in the gentle waves. This early in the day, very few ships were actually moving about; Phil studied a passing lobster trawler, but the crew on board paid them no heed.  “Keep your eyes open,” he warned the other two ponies on the deck.  “Peeled like a hawk!” Autumn declared, shading her eyes with a hoof and peering from one side to another, glaring at every wave and cloud like Caballeron and his henchponies were hiding behind it.  Strider stared at her for a beat, then turned back to Phil, grasping the railing to steady himself as the engine kicked up with a roar and their yacht pulled away from the harbor at full speed, heading southeast towards the target area.  “At least the weather’s looking clear, right?” he said to Phil. “We should get there by mid-afternoon.”  Phil just grunted, one hoof going for the totem of Angkakert dangling from his neck, the wooden icon bouncing against his chest with every wave that the boat crested.  The hours dragged by, the endless dark blue sea washing away to the gray-washed horizons. Autumn kept up a running commentary on everything she saw and posited endless theories about how their journey might turn out, her enthusiasm undimmed by her companions’ curt replies. By the time the sun was approaching its zenith, a cluster of volcanic islands appeared on the southeastern horizon, clusters of multicolored cottages placed about the white surfaces like splotches of paint.  “The Isles of Ice,” Captain Coral nodded towards the snow-capped peaks. They reached a dock that jutted out from the main island of Holtasoley, resting in the shadow of its massive volcano. The captain pulled the yacht into a fueling dock and set to refilling the tanks with the aid of the old, leather-skinned griffon dockmaster.  Daring thoughtfully chewed on their packed lunch of sandwiches, looking up at the great dome-shaped mountain. The mountain seemed to be stretching to touch the sky; clouds passed just over the white-covered top as if taunting it.  “This might have been what Brigantine saw when he rowed away,” she mused quietly.  Phil let out a quiet sigh. “Poor bastard.”  “Uh…” Autumn said, looking up from the notepad where she had been jotting down notes since the train ride to Baltimare. She glanced around to make sure that Captain Coral was still talking to the dockmaster, then leaned in.  “If we do get the amulet…well, you read about what it did to the crew,” she whispered. “What if we all start going cuckoo bananas on the way back?”  Daring, Phil, and Strider all exchanged glances. “You didn’t think of that?!” Autumn hissed.  “We’ll worry about that when it comes,” Daring replied. “Let’s worry about getting it out of Caballeron’s hooves first.”  Noting the tanks were full, Coral shook talons with the dockmaster and bid him goodbye before climbing back onboard. “All set to go?” he asked, receiving nods from all around. “Right, let’s be off,” he said, grabbing a sandwich for himself and heading for the pilothouse.  The yacht pulled away from the Isles of Ice and headed north, cruising through the waves with efficient speed. Most of the passengers watched the dark water with grim silence as the sun continued its inexorable path across the sky and the volcanic peaks to their south slowly dropped as if the mountains were crouching down behind the horizon.  “Hey, look on the bright side,” Autumn insisted from the bow, noting the two stallions’ frowns. “We’re out here on the beautiful sea, it’s a nice, sunny day, and we’re on an adventure! C’mon, just take a deep breath of that sea air!”  She leaned over the bow, closed her eyes, and took in a long breath through her nostrils. Unfortunately, at that precise moment, the yacht crested a particularly high wave and splashed down hard, sending foam hurling up over the prow. The result was that instead of sea air, Autumn Blaze inhaled a significant amount of the sea. She doubled over the railing, coughing and spluttering.  “Think I’ll pass on that, thanks,” Strider said as he and Phil both snickered. Autumn shook her dampened mane out of her face and grinned. “At least I finally got you two to smile!”  The growling of the yacht’s motors dimmed as the ship began to slow. “We’re here!” Daring called from out the pilothouse window. “We’re starting the scan now!”  “Whoo-hoo!” Autumn cheered, racing up to the pilothouse.  Daring turned on the sonar display on the control panel. After a moment of buzzing, a hazy green image appeared, revealing the contoured surface of the ocean floor deep beneath the sea, fish and underwater flora spread across the rolling stones.  “Okay, head north at a steady pace,” Daring instructed Coral. “After an hour, turn around and head south along the next line.”  “Aye-aye,” the captain nodded, holding his ship steady.  For hours, Straight On ‘Til Morning trawled the lonely expanse of the sea. Daring kept her eyes fixed on the sonar display for any sign of a wreck, occasionally glancing ponderously at the chart or the weather and ocean almanacs from the Historical Society. Autumn watched the display over Daring’s shoulder, pointing at anything that looked out of place with an excitement that was quickly smothered when Daring rejected them all. Strider and Phillip paced the decks, shivering in the frosty winds that blew across the water.  Finally, just as the sun was starting to kiss the western horizon and spread orange and red color across the sky, Daring leaned in closer to the screen. “Hold it,” she ordered, holding out a hoof to the Captain, who pulled back on the throttle.  Autumn leaned over Daring’s shoulder to squint at the image on the display: a long, almost avuncular shape beneath them.  “Autumn, the ship schematics!” Daring ordered.  Autumn leaped for the pile of books, charts, and notes on the table and grabbed a set of schematics for the Merry Celestia, unfurling them. Daring looked from the schematics to the display and back several times, tracing lines on the screen.  A grin slowly spread across her face. “There you are,” she announced.  Autumn let out an excited whoop and leaned out the pilothouse window. “We got it, boys!” she shouted to the others.  Coral dropped a sea anchor while Phillip, Strider, and Daring all prepared for their dive, donning thick black wetsuits and strapping on air tanks.  “Gonna be cold down there,” Phillip grumbled as he made sure his headlamp and the small glowstick attached to his belt were both working properly.  “That’s why we got the suits with the heat wards,” Strider replied, strapping a dive slate to his foreleg.  Daring tested her rebreather and nodded to find that it worked properly. She ensured that all the gear on her belt was accounted for: a knife, a set of underwater flares, a length of rope, a prybar, a flashlight, and spare batteries.  “Okay, boys,” she said, unfurling the blueprint of their brigantine for them to review once more. “The cabin where the passenger was staying was probably down here, to the stern of the hold. We’ll start our search there.”  “You know that they searched the ship when it was still above the water and didn’t find it?” Strider pointed out. “They could’ve just tossed it overboard.”  “Well, the passenger said before he died that he’d hidden it on the ship,” Daring replied, pulling her hood on and tucking her mane inside. “This is the only real lead we have.”  Strider sighed and donned his hood and goggles as well. “Well, I’ve run down slimmer leads,” he admitted, tugging on the flippers.  After a final check of each other’s gear to ensure that everything was secured and working properly, the trio put their rebreathers on and hopped off the back of the boat with three separate splashes. They floated for a moment, considering the churning darkness beneath them, the taste of rubber and canned air filling their mouths.  Coral glanced at the setting sun and shook his head. “You must be desperate to get whatever you’re after to risk wreck diving this late,” he said. “Be careful down there.”  “Good luck!” Autumn said, managing a smile despite the nervousness in her eyes.  Daring tapped her chest over her heart twice to signal that all was okay, a gesture that the two stallions both repeated. And with that, they deflated their buoyancy vests and sank beneath the water.  All sound was instantly snatched away, replaced by the low gurglings of the water and the hissing of their rebreathers. The three switched on their headlamps and the glowsticks and turned around to dive deeper into the water, gently kicking to push through the water, away from the safety of the boat above them and the fading glow of sunset. As they swam down, Daring glanced around at them. She’d been diving before, both for amusement and for underwater treasure-seeking adventures with the Family; one of her favorites had been a swim through the tropical waters off Tahayti in search of a chest of allegedly cursed gold coins.  This was nothing like that jaunt. The water there had been warm and crystal clear beneath the sun, and everywhere one looked, there were vibrant colors of the underwater flora and fauna cavorting beneath the waves.  This water was beyond frigid; despite the gentle warmth that pervaded through their swimsuits, the cold assailed the exposed skin around their faces like thousands of tiny needles of ice. And it was dark, almost unnaturally so; the glow from their own artificial lights seemed pathetically dim in comparison to the empty shadows all around them. Beyond the boundaries of their lamps was an unsettling void of perfect nothingness, and the more Daring looked, the more she thought she saw dark shapes twisting and writhing just beyond the edge of her vision.  She shook it off. It was just her mind playing tricks on her.  A dark shadow beneath them slowly began to resolve into a shape, reluctantly pulled from the depths by the light of their headlamps. The old wooden brigantine lay on the port side, over a hundred feet from end to end; the masts had all snapped off and lay scattered about it, tattered remnants of the sails and riggings still clinging to them like sinew on ancient bones.  Daring swam to the bow of the ship, the tingling she felt in her hooves not related to the cold of the depths. Only a part of the bowsprit remained, ending in a jagged break like a snapped tooth; the figurehead beneath was nearly unrecognizable beneath the barnacles and slime that had overtaken the wood. Squinting at the wood through her lamp, she carefully brushed aside some of the undersea detritus to behold a name in faded but still legible lettering.  Merry Celestia. A rush ran down her spine, both from excitement and trepidation. She looked back to the other two; though all she could see of them was their eyes, they both shared the same expression that she knew must be on her own face.  They swam across the deck of the ship, which was bare save for the remnants of the broken masts and some scattered rigging, making their way towards the stairs in the center of the deck. Phillip paused at the stairs and shined his light into the darkness beneath. A shape lunged out of the darkness at him and he leaped back with a gasp, nearly dropping his rebreather as his hoof went for the knife on his belt.  The sleek shape swum lithely past him, the beady black eye set in the side of the hammer-shaped head regarding him with cool disinterest for a moment before moving on. Phillip exhaled, ordering his heart to return to its slower cadence. Daring pulled a flare from her belt and pulled the plastic top off with a pop. The flare burst to life with a sputtering and a hiss, red flames shooting from the end. She carried the flare down the steps, the additional illumination revealing the remnants of the lower deck. A capstan was set up to the stern of the stairs, now overgrown with barnacles; towards the bow, hammocks were still set up as if awaiting the crew's return. Rusted and broken furniture, clothing, and other odds and ends lay or floated about in the water, abandoned by the crew.  Daring Do placed the flare on the side of the staircase, leaving it behind as a marker, then proceeded to swim around to the other set of stairs just behind it, with the stallions right behind her. At the bottom of the steps, she ignited another flare and wedged this one into the rickety steps.  The hold was a cavernous room, the light from their torches swallowed up by even thicker darkness. In the faint glow, the only feature that they could see was the detritus of several smashed-open barrels and a few rusted tools.  Daring pointed towards the stern and began to slowly swim into the darkness, sweeping the shadows with her headlamp. More broken barrels and the smashed remnants of crates were spread across the rotting wood.  Their lights fell upon a great hole in the side of the ship, the edges artificially smooth. Daring paused to study it for a moment, pondering what kind of desperation could have driven the surviving crew to sink their own ship in their bid to escape before swimming on.  A low creaking rumbled through the ship, causing the trio to freeze for a moment, looking about. A few fish darted away from the light, the only sign of any other life within the wreck.  Daring forced herself to relax. Just the wreck settling, she told herself, beckoning the others to follow her.  They reached the bulkhead at the back of the hold, pushing through a narrow passageway with doorways on either side. As Daring dropped another flare at the head of the hallway, Phillip pushed open the first door on the port side, shouldering it open and sweeping it with his headlamp.  The interior appeared to have once been the surgeon’s quarters: the center of the room had the ruins of a cot, and there were shelves on the walls. On the floor was an assortment of crushed bottles and vials, with the sodden remnants of some books scattered across them.  Phillip turned and made an X with his forelegs, tapping them together to indicate a negative. Strider pulled his head out of the other doorway and repeated the gesture.  Phillip swam a little further on to the next door and pushed this one open, shining his headlamp within.  An eyeless face leered at him from the darkness.  The earth pony's corpse floated near the back of the cramped cabin, forelegs outspread and jaw hanging open, intestines waving about like hideous underwater reeds. Patches of his reddish coat had been eaten away by time and predators to expose the ivory bones and the eyes had long vanished, leaving behind only the ragged holes, though the wheat-gold mane and tail were still intact, as well as the cutie mark of a horseshoe and a small hammer.  The trio of investigators all glanced at each other, the same thought in each other’s eyes: the passenger’s corpse looked as though it had been underwater for a few days at best, not nearly eighty years.  Shaking away the thought, Phillip took a flare from his belt and ignited it, dropping it onto the floor of the cabin. The cramped interior was spartan: a hammock, sliced in half, hung from one corner. A broken stool and smashed table lay against the opposite wall. The tattered remnants of a set of saddlebags lay near the floor, the ruined remnants of its contents scattered about: a rusted flask and a small compass, and some scraps of ruined papers orbiting the ruins of a journal.  While Daring waited at the door, Strider and Phil both entered the cabin, slowly sweeping every corner with their flashlights.  Strider studied the ruins of the journal, frowning at the tatters of the pages. He took the cover and studied it beneath his flashlight. A name was just barely legible on the inside of the pleather cover: Chris Cobbler.  So that’s who you were. Strider glanced over at the corpse and suppressed a shudder. He knew it was just his imagination, but the empty sockets seemed to be staring directly at him, the guts tugged about by unseen eddies.  Doing his best to ignore it, he poked through the rest of the saddlebags, then made his way over to the remnants of the hammock and searched through the fabrics.  In the meantime, Phillip performed a thorough search of the desk, pulling out every drawer and checking the interiors, but finding nothing. He grimaced in frustration, shaking his head. Where the hell could he have--? He and Strider turned towards the corpse floating in the middle of the room. The passenger was wearing a hooded cloak about his shoulders: large sections had been eaten away by time and water, but their flashlights both focused on a strange bulge in the pocket.  Both of them looked at the rotten disemboweled corpse, then at each other. Strider shook his head and made an X with his forelegs, backing away a bit. Phillip rolled his eyes and let out a sigh that came out as a cascade of bubbles. He swam over to the body and reached out to rifle through the pocket. His hoof clenched around something hard and he pulled it out to examine it.  It was a long ivory pipe with an oversized bowl. A three-masted boat was scrimshawed into the bowl, and the chamber still had some tobacco in it. Someone had crudely hacked what appeared to be glyphs into the inside of the bowl and there was a suspiciously dark stain around the rim of the bowl and on the stem. Phillip studied the pipe, trying not to notice that the eyeless face had turned towards him, then looked over at the ruined saddlebags. Noting the lack of tobacco or any other smoking implements within the mess, he held up his diving slate and wrote down a message on it. He turned it so that the others could see the glowing letters.  Not his. Sailor’s? Daring frowned at the pipe. Where had she read about something like that…? An idea flashed through her mind. She scribbled down a reply on her own diving slate.  2nd mate! She turned and swam back up the hallway, following the flickering red glow of the flare set into the stairs. Phillip followed her out; Strider exited behind him, pausing briefly at the doorway and telling himself he was just being silly as he closed the door behind them, casting one last glance back at the corpse staring back at him from the flickering, reddish light.  The trio made their way back up the stairs to the lower deck and Daring took the lead in heading towards the forecastle in the bow. Dropping another flare at the entrance to the hallway of cabins, she paused briefly to orient herself, then pointed at the foremost cabin on the starboard side. She tried to push it open, but the door refused to budge: after a moment, she realized that it was locked.  Pulling out her knife, she jimmied the blade into the latch and started to pry it back and forth. After a few moments of work, the lock gave and she pushed the door open with a grunt of effort, shining her headlamp up into the cabin.  The second mate’s cabin was larger and much better equipped than the passenger’s had been. A larger cot was set in one corner, opposite a larger desk. Stationery, books, and navigational equipment floated about in the water, and a trunk sat enigmatically at the foot of the cot. Igniting another flare and placing it against the wall next to the door, Daring and Phil both swam up into the cabin and began to search. While Phillip made his way to the desk, Daring tossed through the cot, then checked underneath it, finding nothing.  Daring then turned to the locked trunk. Taking out her prybar, she inserted one end into the latch as Strider entered to help. He pushed the trunk down onto the floor as Daring braced herself against the wall, then pushed as hard as she could.  The trunk groaned and cracked, but did not give. Daring took in a breath, reset herself, and began again, straining against the rusted contraption.  With a snap and an explosion of bubbles, the trunk’s lock finally surrendered and allowed them to open it. Fit inside were some neatly folded jackets, spare horseshoes, and other odds and ends, including several large sealed jars of pipe tobacco and a set of waterproofed matches.  Daring immediately focused on the tobacco. She picked up one can and rattled it. Nothing. She tossed it aside and repeated the process with the next two cans, achieving the same effect.  But when she shook the fourth one, a metallic rattling answered her. All three of them paused and turned to stare at the tobacco tin as Daring fumbled for a moment with her gloved hooves, then pried it open.  Set inside was a triangular black amulet, wings spread from the tips and the silhouette of a unicorn’s head set atop it, the carved eye glaring out at them. There was a setting for a gem in the center of the construct, but the ruby that it had housed was absent. A cord attached to the amulet allowed one to wear it about their neck. Daring touched the Alicorn’s Amulet and winced as a biting pain like teeth made of ice seared through her hooves, instantly releasing it. Phillip, his eyes widening slightly, pointed at her and tapped his foreleg with his other hoof twice to ask if she was okay. Daring shook her head and tapped her chest twice, then took the amulet more gingerly. The metal was far colder than the water around it, penetrating even the heating wards of her wetsuit, but it was bearable as long as she was careful. She twisted the amulet to examine it under her light, noting a set of scratches along one side of the setting.  Daring pocketed the Alicorn’s Amulet and pumped her foreleg up three times, indicating that it was time for them to head to the surface. The stallions both nodded in agreement. One by one, they swam out of the cabin, turned towards the hallway to return to the stairway, and froze.  The passenger’s corpse was floating at the entrance to the forecastle. His head was turned towards them and in the sputtering red glow of the flare, the eyeless face seemed to be glaring at them, one hoof outstretched as if to seize them and mouth open in a silent howl of rage.  The three of them glanced at each other nervously, then Daring swam down the hall. She hesitated for a moment, then scoffed at herself and prodded at the corpse with her prybar, moving it out of the way. She turned and beckoned with her head for the others to follow, then continued on, trying not to shudder when a slimy intestine brushed against her arm. As she made her way to the foot of the stairs, she spotted another hammerhead shark swimming back and forth at the entrance. It glared at her for a moment, then swam on with a disdainful wave of its angular tail.  The three swam back up the stairs and out of the wreck, reemerging into the boundless voids of the sea. Strider glanced back at the ship, then repeatedly shook his head and made an X with his forelegs. Phil and Daring both nodded in agreement. Daring checked to ensure that the Alicorn Amulet was still secured to her belt and began swimming with her two partners.  The sea floor turned into dark, indistinct shapes beneath them as they swam up, the void swallowing up everything else around them. The silent darkness pressed down upon them as they swam up; no light from above penetrated down this deep.  Daring glanced at the display attached to her tank. The depth meter clearly indicated that they were definitely going up, and her air tanks were still almost one-third full. Everything was fine. Everything was fine… What was that? She glanced down, certain that she’d seen something moving within the abyss beneath. Was--? Swim faster. She pumped herself harder, kicking her legs for all that they were worth. The stallions followed her at the same desperate speed, not daring to look back.  The cold air burned; sucking down breaths took greater effort.  Faster. They clawed with their forelegs, kicking frantically, any thought beyond escape from the emptiness banished from their minds. Phillip had to stop himself from unclipping his air tank to try to decrease his weight.  Faster! Too late. It was behind them, rushing up inexorably like a train… They burst through the surface, the night air embracing them like a comforting hug. Ripping out their rebreathers, they hovered in the water for a few moments, gasping for breath. A blinding light seared into their eyes but quickly resolved itself into Autumn Blaze, shining a flashlight down at them from the back of the boat. “Are you okay?!” she cried. “What happened?”  The sight of the other ponies and the first stars starting to emerge from the sky was instantly soothing to the three divers. “We’re aces,” Phillip said, swimming over to the back of the boat and waiting for the other two to climb back on board.  “You find what you were looking for?” Captain Coral asked, helping them climb back onto the safety of the boat.  “We did,” Daring nodded, patting the opaque bag secured to her belt.  “Yay!” Autumn Blaze cheered, then instantly stopped with a look of sudden realization, her eyes going to the bag like it contained a live venomous serpent. “Uh, wait…”  “It’ll be fine,” Daring said in an undertone.  “This mean we can head back?” Captain Coral asked.  “Yeah,” Strider said, starting to strip off his gear.  “Bloody brilliant,” Coral said, heading back up to the pilothouse. “I heated up dinner for you, it’s in the cabin. I’ll get us headed back to Holtasoley.”  Phillip’s stomach growled loudly at the mention of food, drawing relieved chuckles from the group. “Ripper,” he declared, getting his wetsuit off and grabbing his clothes and lifejacket from where he’d left them.  Autumn tossed them all warm towels and helped them carry their gear back into the cabin as the engine sputtered to life. “So what was it like? Was it scary? Were there sharks? Where’d you find it? Tell me everything, and feel free to go on long tangents!”  “Food first, talk later,” Daring said, making her way through a galley to a table where a steaming pot of stew and a stack of bowls were waiting. A used bowl and spoon were in the sink, the leftovers of the captain’s meal.  “Glad he was confident that we were coming back,” Strider commented, sliding into a cushioned seat and spooning himself a large bowl of stew, which he dug into with great fervor. “Ahh, that hits the spot,” he sighed in satisfaction.  Daring sat down with a groan, tilted her pith helmet back, and pulled out the bag with their prize, dropping it on the table with a clunk as the boat’s motors pulled it through the water.  “So…what about the gem?” she asked quietly.  “It wasn’t removed by the crew,” Strider stated. “They didn’t find the amulet. Maybe the passenger did it?”  “We might have to go back and search again,” Phillip said through spoonfuls.  “Maybe the gem was removed before he left,” Daring mused, looking at the bag with the amulet inside rather than her bowl. “What’s the big deal?” Autumn said, slurping down the rest of her stew and going for a second helping. “We got the Amulet, right? We just need to get it somewhere safe from Cab…uh…lair…”  She paused, blinking heavily. The kirin yawned heavily, then flopped onto the table, snoring loudly.  Daring blinked in surprise. “Wow. She must’ve been really ti--” She turned to the other two and froze.  Strider had sagged in his seat, his eyes closed. Phillip was struggling to keep his eyes open, his head lolling.  He shoved Daring’s bowl away from her with a great effort. “Druuuh,” he slurred, then flopped facedown onto the table and started snoring.  Daring held her bowl up to her nose and sniffed. Just beneath the mixed flavors of the vegetables and braised hay, she detected a faint but distinctly bitter odor. Some kind of sleeping potion? Lights out the window. Daring looked outside to see a speedboat pulling up next to their yacht, which was slowing to greet them. Ponies leaped from the other vessel onto their own, all of them armed with pistols. Fuck.