//------------------------------// // IV - The Mines // Story: Equestria's Secret Service // by EdwardJ //------------------------------// Chapter Four "Our Princess desires, above all else, to keep her subjects free of the fear of war.  For this reason, she has given the order that we are to become hidden, operating in the shadows.  Publicly, the Service has disbanded, and we shall hereafter remain behind closed doors.  This shall be our blessing and our curse; our enemies will believe us a myth, and with that we can strike without warning, but our deeds shall be unsung save by our own brothers and sisters.  I urge you: remain strong!  For Equestria, for our Princess, we shall bear this burden..." ~Excerpt from a speech by Iron Lore One-hundred eleventh Chief Commissar of the Secret Service         "Um... I don't see a lock here."  The camouflaged pegasus' words were like a blow to Clear Skies.  Was this all she could hope for, to be taunted with freedom?         "Let me see."  The unicorn stepped over and touched the door with her horn.  "Figures; it's magically operated."         "A magic lock?" the pegasus asked.         "No, just magically operated," the unicorn corrected.  "All the workings are mechanical, but instead of moving them with a key, you move them with magic."  She bit her lip.  "Getting in may be tricky."         "Well, can't you just magic it open?"         "Maybe.  I might just attract the Shamans while I'm at it."         "Well, if the parts are mechanical, maybe I can do something.  There's gotta be an access plate somewhere."         "Possible, but where?  We'd have to..."  Clear Skies lost their conversation as Autumn came up to the bars of her cell.  He smiled at her, and everything started to feel real again.         "Good to see you again.  My apologies for the delay; we got here as fast as we were able."         The delay?  He was apologizing for that?  Why?  They were here now, and all the days she had been counting didn't matter anymore.  They were here, and now only the bars stood between her and, and everything.  Only the bars.  She found herself staring at the two ponies who were discussing her cage.  "Will... they will get me out, won't they?"         Autumn followed her gaze.  "I have no doubt.  Gleam is quite skilled in the use of magic, and Camlock knows mechanics better than he knows his left hoof."  He turned back to her.  "You have no cause for worry."         She looked over to the other pegasus who was keeping an eye down the passage.  "W-who...?"         "A friend," he said, looking over.  "Dew; a very capable mare."  He leaned in close and whispered, "She would get you out of here through sheer tenacity alone, if it came to it."         It was a joke, she was sure; a playful jab at his friend.  She made a small noise; at first she thought it was a hiccup before she realized it was laughter, and she found herself smiling.  It was a strained smile, worn weak by the months of neglect, but it was good to know she still could.         "Excuse me."  Camlock slid a small mirror beneath the cell door.  "I hate to interrupt, but I need to borrow our damsel a moment."  Autumn nodded, and he turned his attention to her.  "Clear Skies?  Hi.  I need to look at the inside of this door, see what there is.  Could you hold this mirror for me?"         She nodded and picked up the mirror.  For the next few minutes she held the mirror where he directed, and he would scratch at the dirt and make 'hm'-ing noises.  Finally, he motioned for her to put the mirror down.         "I don't see any access points.  I'm gonna assume that we'd need to get the door open to get at the insides of this lock."         "So, what do we do?" asked Gleam.         He thought for a moment, looking the door over with an investigative eye.  "Well, there's cutting our way in, but this is good iron; would take too much time, not to mention the noise."  His eyes wandered.  "I suppose we could take the hinges," he said, walking over.  "They are cell hinges, so they won't be easy, but we should be able to dismantle them quietly enough."         "How long?"  asked Dew.         "Hooooo... couple minutes?"         She glanced over at Autumn.  "Hallway's quiet for now.  I'll head down a bit, try to catch anything coming this way before it catches us.  I'll be back in a 'couple minutes.'"         Autumn nodded.  "Very well; be careful.  Camlock, get this door open, as quiet and quick as possible."  Dew trotted off and Camlock pulled tools from his saddlebags.  Gleam trotted over and began helping him with the hinges.  Their work was barely audible.         He turned back to her.  "We will have you out of there soon."  He paused.  "...How have you been holding up?"         The question was simple, straightforward, and it caught her completely off guard.  "I..."  How could she describe the recent days?  So much had happened in the short time he had been gone, she didn't know where to begin.  "...I've held on," she finally said.         It sounded so silly, just saying that, but still he smiled at her all the same.  "Good; I suppose that is all we can ask for."         His smile was a warm comfort in the cold air of the mines, and before she could think about it she was speaking again.  "The Shaman," she heard herself say.  "He came down after you left.  He was angry; he seemed to know that you had been here.  He asked so many questions."  She shivered.  "He scares me.  I didn't tell him anything, and when he left... he was so angry I thought he might kill me."  She took a deep breath, mentally pushing the memory back, before continuing.  "The next day I... I took one of the pills you gave me; one of the ones to fight magic.  I-I don't know what it did, but I think it hurt my foal."  Autumn was listening intently, his smile gone.  Gleam and Camlock had stopped their work, one hinge removed, and were staring at her.  "She kicked all night, painfully hard, a-and when the dogs came in the morning they saw me.  The Shaman... the Shaman..."  The words were stuck behind a lump in her throat.  She forced them around it, and suddenly it all spilled out.  "He had me eat.  He enchanted it, right then and there!  I saw it, but it hurt so much I ate it all.  It was hours before my foal calmed down, but now she won't stop moving."  She clutched her stomach.  "I can still feel her; it's like she's trying to run away."         Tears were forming in her eyes, threatening to spill over onto her cheeks, and she took a deep, shuddering breath before continuing.  "The Shaman changed after that.  He wants my foal badly, and I see it hurts him to not know if she's alright.  He treats me like I'm a delicate shell, ready to fall apart at any moment."  A tear ran down her cheek.  "He doesn't want to see his prize die before she's born."  And neither do I, no matter what they've done to her.         "Which pill did you take?"         The question surprized her; she looked over to Gleam, who took a step forward, waiting for the answer.  "I-I don't know.  I dumped all of them afterward."         Gleam bit her lip.  "...doesn't make sense."         "Gleam," Autumn interrupted.  "We must first open the cell."         "Oh, right!"  She and Camlock immediately went back to the hinges, working faster.         The next minute went by painfully slow.  The two ponies worked on the remaining hinges while Clear Skies tried to avoid eye contact with Autumn.  Finally, there was a soft thud as the iron door sagged.  With an exclamation of pride, Camlock pulled the door off the cell and leaned it against the far wall.  In the still air of the mine, Clear Skies felt a breeze.         Gleam was the first one to enter the cell, concern written all over her face.  Before she could say anything, a quiet noise echoed down the hall.  Everypony stopped and listened.  Silence, then a new noise rose up and took its place.  Clear Skies took a step back; she knew that noise: it was the same noise that had interrupted the last time Autumn had been here.         The cacophony of a thousand shouting dogs.         "What is that?" asked Camlock.         "The dogs," replied Autumn.  "Gleam, get a message to the rest of the groups: we are discovered; pull out.  Clear Skies, we have to go now."  He took his cloak off and threw it over her shoulders.  "This will help hide you.  Stay close to us.  Everyone; time to go."         She hung back for a moment; only a moment.  In that moment, the step that led to the other side of her prison felt to be unreachable, a wide and terrible chasm worn there by time.  In her first days here it would have been a simple matter to take that step, but now... now the scent that permeated the cloak that was wrapped around her reached her nose: it was sweat and stallion; it was warm earth, open sky, and bright sun.  She inhaled deeply, and it carried her easily across the threshold of her cage.         The four ponies met up with a fifth down the hall, and together they raced for the exit. ~ * ~      ~ * ~      ~ * ~         "You hear that?"         The three ponies stopped and listened.  Only silence greeted them.         "Hearing things now?"  The earth pony Deep Roots had been teasing her like this the entire time; it was quite apparent he didn't like the idea of being bossed around by a mare.  "Look, I know this mission is a little stressful, but—"  He stopped, interrupted by a distant shouting echoing along the walls.  The ground began to shake a few seconds later.  Roots looked worried.         Constellation almost smiled.  "Deep Roots, look," she said.  "I know this mission is a little stressful, but..."         The glare he gave her could have levelled a small village.         "Would you two cut it out?" pleaded Farsight.   "We have enough to worry about without you two giving each other cheap shots."         Constellation scoffed; Farsight was only jumping in now because she liked Roots, Celestia knew why.  If I had known this team would be like this...  It was a futile thought; they were all here, they had to work together, and as much as it stung, Farsight was right.  "Right, fine; I'll be good so long as he is."  She looked around, listening to the shouts that were growing louder.  "Let's get back to that alcove we passed earlier; we should be able to hide there while we figure out what's going on.  Farsight, I want you to inform the teams that we may have been discovered.  ALL of us," she added.  She may not have a clear idea of what was happening, but she was certain this affected everypony here.         "Why do I have to do it?  You could send the message yourself, you know."         "Didn't you just say something about cheap shots?" Constellation asked pointedly.  Farsight glared, but sent the message anyway.  It was a little sloppy, she noticed; Farsight put a bit more power into sending the message than any of her previous sendings, but Constellation let that slide.  She watched as the glow around Farsight's horn faded, leaving them again in dull torchlight.  Something tugged at the back of her mind, an uneasy feeling that whispered nameless doubts to her.  She brushed it away; she had more important things to worry about now.         Quickly, quietly, the three ponies retraced their steps, retreating to the alcove hiding space.  All the way, the nagging unease pulled at Constellation's mind.  The more she tried to ignore it, the more it screamed at her, until it was all she could think about.  What was it that had gotten into her head?  It couldn't have been the rumbling of the earth or the echoes that were slowly growing louder; those were obvious, sitting in plain view, understood.  This feeling was something different; it appeared well after the dog's shouts were heard, when Farsight had sent the message.         Farsight?  Is that it?  She looked over at the other unicorn, moving stealthily beside Roots.  She moved smoothly, only occasionally stealing a glance at Roots and blushing whenever he noticed.  What was it about Farsight that had her so worried?  It was true they didn't get along very well, but that was no reason for this sudden distrust.  Sure, she was irritating, whiny, lazy, foalish...         Calm down, Stella, she told herself.  That line of thought'll get you nowhere.  Think: she sent the message, and... was it too powerful?  Could the shamans have picked it up?  She ran it over in her head, but it didn't add up.  Farsight wouldn't deliberately tip off the shamans, and she certainly knew better than to risk exposure over taking unwanted orders.  Besides, the message hadn't felt that powerful.         The message hadn't felt at all.         She stopped.  It was true: she hadn't received Farsight's message.  She should have; all unicorns in the mine should have, so why hadn't she?  Hell, she had seen the glow of her horn, so why had the message not gone through?         Ahead of her, Deep Roots and Farsight were still working their way down the corridor, oblivious to the fact that she had stopped.  Curious, she sent a message of her own, directly to Farsight.  Quietly at first, slowly growing in strength until she feared that she might be detected.         There was no response from Farsight.         What the hay is going on?   She watched as Farsight and Deep Roots turned a corner and vanished from view, never once breaking their stride or giving any indication that they noticed her absence.  Left alone in the stone passage, the memory of a unicorn's broken corpse slowly wormed its way into the forefront of her thoughts.         Unable to use magic.         The memory hung in the air like dark prophecy.  No, she thought; there was no way she was going to end up like that.  The dog's shouts were still still some ways off, dampened by the solid rock all around.  Quickly, she ran to catch up with Farsight and Deep Roots, caring less about silence and more about speed.  They had to get to the alcove; hiding might be the only option they had right now, and she needed to try and find out what was blocking her magic.  No, not just hers: all of their magic.         She turned the corner and ran into the smiling faces of a dozen dogs.  They stood over the bodies of two ponies, an earth and unicorn.  One dog was kneeling, stripping one corpse of its horn, while the rest were staring at her.  Somewhere in the back of her head she registered the distant shouts of the dogs, but the ones before her were deathly silent.  She took a nervous step back, mind racing.         One dog pointed.  The rest ran forward, never making a sound. ~ * ~      ~ * ~      ~ * ~         Under normal circumstances, Celina would have complained about being led about like a foal.  These were not normal circumstances; ever since the Shamans had started their strange spell, her magic had been useless, and magic is what she did best.  It was maddening; there was a strange, pulsating energy in the air, and even though she could cast her spells just fine, none of them ever did anything.  Maddening, indeed... but it sparked a curiosity in her as well.  So many theories were running around in her head, vying for attention.  Under ideal conditions, she would take all the time she needed to study the effects, dissect the magic, and see how it worked.         These were not ideal conditions, she had to remind herself as Forte signalled for her to stop.  Her curiosity would have to wait until they were safely out of the mine; she could only hope that her short experience with this mystifying effect would be enough for her to study.  Keep an open mind, she told herself.  Memorize as much of this as possible.  Figure it all out later.         Forte signalled again, and once more the two of them were on the move, ducking into the shadows that lined the stone halls.  The roar of the dogs was everywhere, strong and constant, and it had them constantly looking over their shoulders.  The rumble of the dog stampede was occasionally punctuated by tremors of a different kind, slightly off-rhythm to the pounding of feet.  Ahead of them, they had only the hope that their exit was still undiscovered.  Spotter had ordered them to try and hold it open if needed, but Celina was looking only to escape; she wanted to go home.         She hadn't meant to alert the dogs, and she certainly didn't want to to leave it up to chance whether or not Spotter could successfully pull off the assassination of the lead Shaman, but she also didn't want to stay here with a bloodhunt going on.  Besides, she had been ordered, and those were orders that were easy to obey.  She consoled herself with the thought that, with this many dogs running around, Spotter was sure to be found; he was a fool, or extremely arrogant, for staying behind.         They had to duck down an unused shaft while a patrol of dogs rushed madly by.  There had been more and more of these the closer they got to their exit, and Celina was afraid that it was closed off.  If Forte felt the same, he never showed signs of it.  He remained calm and determined, duty written all over his stern face.  "Come on," he whispered, encouragement lacing his words.  "Patrol's past; we'll be able to make the exit with our next push."         He was right, they made it to the exit easily.  Relieved, she began to leave when he hissed at her to stop; she looked around, and saw the dogs waiting in front of her; waiting in ambush.  She looked up at Forte, wondering what he would do next.  His brow was furrowed, his lips were moving, and he looked to be calculating the odds.  She nudged his shoulder and shook her head, motioning him to follow back down the path.         "What is it?" he whispered, once they were at a safe distance.         "We can't make it through that; we have to find another way."         "Then what?  Other ponies will be coming this way; what if they don't see the ambush?  We need to at least try to clear it."         Celina's brain stopped working for a moment.  Two ponies, one of them rendered mostly useless, against at least fifteen dogs, all of them able, and he wanted to attack them?  For what?  The fantasy that killing himself would alert everypony else to the ambush?  Earth ponies...  She shook her head.  "No... no; watch."  She looked around, making sure that there were no dogs in sight, and scratched out a symbol near one of the torches.  It was small, and it looked like natural marks unless you saw the pattern in it.  "Remember this?"         Forte slowly nodded, understanding finally dawning in his eyes.  It was old code: the other agents would be warned of the ambush ahead.  "Now, then, we need to find another exit, and fast; keep that one open and guide ponies to it.  Understood?"  Forte nodded, and so they were on the move again.         The going was a little rough; Spotter had been with them last time and he had known the mine rather well.  The maps he and Autumn had put together were with those teams they were not a part of.  Celina and Forte could only guess where other exits could be.  Even though the mine had a logical pattern to it, the old miners would dig where the prize was, so many passages got tangled at some point or another.  More often than not they just ran into one of the collapsed openings.         "This is getting ridiculous!"  Celina almost shouted.  It was the fifth cave-in they had come across, and it smelled strongly of rock.  "I know there were more open ones than this!  We can't be that far off, can we?"  She sneezed; something in the air was tickling her nose.         "I don't know, Celina," Forte provided.  "I spent most of my life on the surface of the earth; I'm not that skilled at navigating her innards."  He looked around.  "I can't disagree, though; we should have found an open one by now."  He sniffed and wiped his nose before looking at her.  "Where are the dogs?  We haven't seen any for a while."         "Probably feel they don't need to guard a dead-end."  She sneezed again.  "Ngh, I hope I'm not coming down with something."         "Ah, you should be all right.  It's probably just the dust in the..."  He trailed off, a look of curiosity slowly becoming one of realization.  "Celina?  There's rock dust in the air here."         She blinked.  "So?"         "The whole way here, we didn't come across dust in the air like this; only here do we find it."  He looked at her with an urgency in his eyes.  "Celina, this cave-in is fresh."         There was a pregnant silence while his words sank in.  The whole weight behind them slowly pressed on Celina until she felt she might buckle under it.  A fresh cave-in?  Are the dogs behind it?  No, stupid question; of course they are, but why?  Why would they seal themselves in like this?  She looked at the pile of rubble, confused.  Spotter had said that more dogs showed up every day, so why would they close the entrances?  No, that wasn't right; while dogs were seen above ground, most preferred to travel beneath the surface.  Sealing off ground access was a minor issue to them; right now it only really affected the ponies.  Besides, they weren't completely sealed off, were they?  There was one outside exit left.  With an ambush lying in wait.  Suddenly, she felt cold.  "They're herding us," she whispered.  "Only one way out, and there they are, lying in wait."  There was fear in her eyes when she looked back to Forte.  "What do we do?"         A pause.  "We fight our way through." ~ * ~      ~ * ~      ~ * ~         "That's odd."  Gleam's comment brought the whole party to a halt.  They had been moving in a silence broken only by Dew's occasional whisper to Clear Skies, helping her learn to stay hidden.  It had definitely helped; shortly after leaving the cell a Shaman ran past them, heading in the direction of the cell.  Clear Skies had frozen in terror when she saw him, and it was only with some urging after the Shaman had past that she was able to keep going.  His scream of rage had been clearly audible, even against the backdrop of the thousand other dog voices.         Now Dew was looking at her friend, curious.  "What is it?" she asked.          "It's just... there's something wrong with the magic here.  It's hard to explain; it's like it doesn't accept my spells."         Dew blinked, confused, but it was Camlock who spoke up.  "What does that mean?"         Gleam looked at him.  "Well, imagine..."  She bit her lip.  "I don't know how to describe this.  I mean, do you even know what 'mana' is?"         Camlock shook his head, and Dew certainly hadn't heard of it before.  Autumn's answer caught her by surprize.  "Ambient magical energy; present most everywhere."           Gleam blinked, but carried on.  "Uh, right; a little simplified, but right.  It's a background energy; I cast a spell and it reacts, but here?  I don't know; it feels... rough?  Turbulent?  I cast a spell and it just gets drowned out like... like..."         "Like trying to be heard at a Vinyl Scratch venue?" suggested Autumn.         Gleam nodded.  "That's... a good analogy, I think."         "Is it dangerous?" he asked, an urgent tone in his voice.         "I... I don't think so, but I've never even heard of something like this.  Mana is usually more like... like still water; no movement, no ripples, nothing.  Celina's better at magical theory than I am; she may have a better idea of what this is.  You should ask her, if... you know."  She looked down the hall behind them.  "I can't raise the other teams in this mess."         "But," Camlock interjected, "Can't you stop it somehow?  Or work around it, maybe?"         She shook her head.  "I can't stop it without knowing what's causing it.  In theory it could be possible to burn through it, but... Camlock, I don't have the strength for that.  I would burn out before anything pushed though this."         Dew looked over to Autumn.  "I guess we figured out what happened to Sly, then."         Autumn nodded slowly, his lips set in grim determination.  "I do not wish to let that happen to anypony here.  Come; we must hurry."         On the move again, Gleam slid up next to Dew.  "Hey," she whispered, "Why don't you go on and help the others?  I'll watch over Clear Skies."         "You sure?"         She nodded.  "Whatever this thing is, I can't use magic.  You're still fully capable; without magic, I'm the most useless pony here, but I can help Skies stay hidden.  It's best to do it this way."         Dew thought a moment before responding.  "Fine, but never call yourself 'useless' again."         "Wouldn't dream of it," she said, smiling.         Dew caught up with the silhouette that was leading the group through the winding passages of the mine.  It was unusual for Autumn to allow himself to be so visible, but with their rescued charge, she could understand.  She sidled up beside him.  "Gleam is taking over watching Clear Skies; she says the lack of magic makes her the best pony for the job."         "Makes sense," he responded.  "Likely will not matter too much; the exit is just ahead.  With some luck, it will still be unguarded."         "And if it is guarded?  Then what?"         "Then we see."  Dew waited him to continue, but when he remained silent she let it go.  Falling into step behind him, her eyes wandered until she found herself staring at the ceiling.  It was an ugly thing, reflecting the industrial engine that drove ponies to dig their way into a mountain this far outside of the Equestrian border.  It was covered in pockmarks and scratches, looking like it hadn't changed since the day it was first hewn out.  Only the wooden rafters that kept the mine from collapsing showed any signs of age.         Dew suppressed a shudder; she hated being underground.  Under the layers of stone and earth, she felt buried, cut off from the open skies that were her home.  The mine was... cold, oppressive, heavy; it was everything the sun and sky were not.  This must be what dying feels like.         She shook the thought from her head.  Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, Dew pushed a different thought to the front of her mind and held on to it, embracing it for its warmth.  The exit is just ahead; we're almost home.         In the flickering torchlight, something caught her eye.  "Autumn!" she whispered urgently.  He stopped and turned to see her pointing at the torch.  He looked, and soon he saw it too: just to the right of the sconce, a pattern of scratches.         "'Ambush.'"  He said the word like a curse.  "Wait here."  Just like that, he was gone, vanished into the shadows.  Dew sat back, clutching at the warm thought as it slipped away.  They weren't almost home, were they?  The dogs wouldn't be that kind.         Clear Skies was visibly shaking.  Both Gleam and Camlock were whispering comforts to her when Autumn returned.  "I count almost fifty dogs.  We may need to find another way out."         "There aren't any."  Dew turned, and Celina made herself visible in the torchlight.  "Forte and I looked around.  The dogs have collapsed the other exits.  This is the only one we have."  She looked over at the pony huddled in Autumns cloak.  "Who's this?"         "That's Clear Skies," responded Dew.  "The dogs' captive."         For a split second, the look on Celina's face was one of disgust.  Then the torch flickered, and it was gone, given way to a neutral, disinterested expression.  "Hope you're worth it."         "Be nice, Celina," came a different voice, this one from a charcoal-coloured earth pony.  Still hugging the shadow, Dew could barely see him.         Autumn stepped in before Celina could respond.  "Forte, Celina; where is Spotter?"         "Still at the pit," answered Forte.  "He's staying behind to see what the dogs do.  We didn't abandon him," he quickly added, "he ordered us to go.  Celina..."  He trailed off, looking sidelong at the mare.  The mare, for her part, was looking shamed.  What is that about, wondered Dew.         "So what happens now?"  Camlock seemed oblivious to the awkward silence.  "Only one exit and fifty dogs between us and it.  I mean, what can—"         "Voice down!" hissed Autumn; Camlock immediately went silent, looking both worried and apologetic.  Nopony moved; Dew's breath felt lodged in her throat.  The silence stretched, and was broken by Autumn taking a deep, slow breath.  "We... cannot just charge in and hope for the best; we need a plan.  Forte, you're talented at combat; your input would be appreciated.  Everypony else, give me inventory.  What did you bring with you?"         Quietly, the assembled ponies began going through their saddlebags, pulling out everything that might have some value to the task ahead.  Barely anything was overlooked; even the trail rations might make for a good distraction, if used right.  Autumn and Forte were huddled over the items, whispering plans and stratagems when Celina and Gleam perked up.         "Feel that?" asked Gleam.  "It's gone." ~ * ~      ~ * ~      ~ * ~         Spotter was still at the pit.  It had been almost a full hour since Celina and Forte had run for the exit, trying to leave before the dogs found them, but Spotter refused to leave.  He was here to see the dogs break apart or watch them grow stronger, whichever would happen.  His mission was important, perhaps even more important than getting the captive out; the results of this endeavour must be known.         He kept glancing behind him to where the endless passages met the ledge, searching for signs of another dog sneaking up.  So far, he had been lucky.  Before his companions had left, they moved the fallen dog away from the ledge, and the only patrol that had come by was sufficiently distracted by their unconscious comrade that they left the ledge, and Spotter, alone.         He returned his attention to the cavern below him.  It was almost empty; most of the dogs had run off to find the ponies now infesting the mines, leaving only about a hundred still milling around, acting as guards for the two Shamans present.  The Shamans, completely engrossed in their combined spell, hadn't moved since they started casting it.  Swirling above their heads, it was only through the gaps in the spiralling energy that Spotter could see the dogs below.  It was a wicked thing, that spell; blue-and-green energy spiralled off each Shaman's staff, bathing everything around it in an eerie glow.  The torches that usually held sway in the deep were drowned out.  The spirals met between them, and where they met there was a violent storm of energy as the spirals tried to move in opposing directions.         It was bright and hard to look at, but Spotter was certain that this was the cause of the magical trouble that Sly had surely experienced.  Hells, he could feel the air roiling from it.  How it worked... that he could only guess at, but any knowledge here was invaluable.         A flicker; Spotter blinked.  Was that...?  No, it couldn't have been, could it?  He looked carefully; the spell was steady, unwavering, so what had he seen?  He was about to scan the cavern floor through the gaps when he saw it again.  Transfixed, he watched as flickering light travelled from one dog's staff all along the spiral of the spell, watched as more and more flickers filtered onto the blue-green glow, watched as they reached the violent storm where the two spells met.  There, the flickering spell collapsed upon itself while the other spiral surged forward.  The Shaman collapsed with his spell; the other stopped shortly thereafter, perhaps having felt the spell drop, and fell to one knee, panting heavily.  The pit went dim, leaving only the torches to struggle against the dark.         About an hour, thought Spotter as the roiling in the air came to a stop.  Long enough for a battle, but hopefully not enough to prevent an escape.  Below him, the fallen Shaman had been helped into his throne, but the other had waved off assistance and climbed into his on his own.  He was not too proud to be attended to, however, as both Shamans were given steaming drinks by their followers.  Spotter watched them with an eager curiosity.  How long does it take them to recover?         He glanced over his shoulder again, searching for any tell-tale signs of dogs sneaking in behind him.  Seeing none, he turned back to the pit and watched.  The Shamans' movements were sluggish, their eyes closed more often than not.  Whatever this spell was, it took a lot out of them.  Suddenly, the Grand Shaman came running in on all fours.  All the dogs turned to face him as he began shouting.  He was angry, that much was obvious, but he was speaking far too fast for Spotter to pick out anything intelligible.  One of the other Shamans responded, and the Grand Shaman rounded on him.  A few seconds of dressing down, and he spoke to one of the soldier dogs cowering in fear, who quickly ran off.  Silence filled the cavern in his wake, and the exhausted Shamans struggled to sit upright on their thrones.         Some minutes later, the soldier dog returned, paws full of mushrooms and various fungi, and presented them to the Grand Shaman.  The Shaman pointed at the other two, and Spotter understood the words, "To them!"  The soldier dog quickly complied, and the two minor Shamans received and ate what was brought to them.  The Grand Shaman yelled at them a bit more, then hurried off.         Where is he going, Spotter wondered.  He was torn; whom should he follow?  The minor Shamans were clearly spent, but it would be hard to catch up to their leader; it wasn't unlikely that he would lose him and just end up lost.  As he considered, movement caught his eye, and he was shocked to see the two Shamans struggling to their feet.  Painfully at first, they slowly gained in strength as they stood, until they were breathing easy and standing tall.  They slammed their staff butts against the stone floor, chanting, and a familiar blue-and-green swirl began illuminating the cavern. ~ * ~      ~ * ~      ~ * ~         "Feel that?" asked Gleam.  "It's gone."         Autumn and Forte went quiet, and everypony looked over to Gleam.  "What's gone?" asked Forte.         Dew knew the answer before Gleam responded.  "The... whatever it was.  The mana is... calm again."  She looked puzzled.  "Just like that."         "What's that mean?" asked Forte.         "It means they can use magic again," said Autumn.  "Get a message out; rally any surviving ponies to this location.  Make it fast."         "Right," Celina said, but Gleam was already sending the messages.  A hush fell over the group as everypony waited for news of other survivors; the seconds stretched 'til they felt like minutes.  Finally, Celina spoke up.  "We got three responses.  Teams are inbound."         "What of the team outside?" asked Autumn.         Celina shook her head.  "Nothing from them.  Could be they escaped, but..."         Dew took a slow breath.  Three responses, she thought.  Three teams.  Not including hers, there had been five teams total, the all-unicorn team staying outside.  With two-thirds of Spotter's teams here, that left one team unaccounted for.  In worst case, that team was dead; best case, only the unicorn had been killed.  Even in the better case, it was unlikely that that team would find their way to exit in time; they may as well be dead.  Then again, she thought, it might just as well be only three surviving unicorns.         Again they waited while Autumn and Forte finalized plans against the ambush that lay ahead of them.  It was less than a minute later when two ponies came around the corner; an earth and unicorn.  Forte held up a hoof, signing 'silence,' and so the two of them quietly joined the group.  While nods were given in greeting, Gleam and Celina began discussing things with the new unicorn, scratching their conversation on the floor in old code.         It was a waiting game, and Dew found it hard to sit still.  On the other side of an order was a fight for life, and her wings twitched in anticipation.  It wasn't that she was excited about the prospect of fighting the dogs, but rather that she wanted to be doing something; waiting was never her favourite game.  In an effort to take her mind off it, she let her eyes wander, and they found the shaking form of Clear Skies.         "Hey," she whispered, coming up beside her.  "You all right?"         Clear Skies looked up at Dew, eyes filled with fear.  Her mouth opened a few seconds before words came out.  "...I'm okay."         "Horseapples," Dew chided, lying down next to the frightened pegasus and draping a comforting wing over her.  "We're all friends here; you can talk to me."         Clear Skies swallowed and let out a tiny sob.  "I'm scared, Dew; really scared.  I'm... we're so close to being free, and they're waiting for us."  Her eyes became fixated on the path ahead of them, leading to an ambush and the outside world.  "I don't want to die, but more than that I don't want to be taken prisoner again.  I don't want to have my foal for the Shaman to take.  I don't want to live trapped underground with these dogs.  I don't want..."  She hung her head, looking defeated.  "I-I want to run and hide, but there's nowhere to go."         Dew pulled her in close and brushed her cheek.  "It's alright to be frightened, Skies.  Not a single one of us here isn't, but you can't let that control you.  We're going to push through those dogs ahead of us and then we'll go home; you'll see."         Clear Skies didn't move.  "What if we don't?"         "Don't think like that."  She nudged Skies' chin, pushing it up.  "Keep your chin up, and stay close to me; I'll get you through safely.  Deal?"  The sky-blue pegasus looked up at her and said nothing, but the fear in her eyes was starting to look more like hope.  Dew smiled warmly; a genuine smile of friendship.  "I promise," she corrected herself.         Clear Skies leaned into her; Dew barely heard her whisper, "Okay."         Around them, Autumn and Forte had finished their plans and another team had arrived, this one a full team of three, one unicorn and two earth.  As the plans were shared amongst the assembly, a single unicorn appeared around the corner, limping.  Gleam immediately recognized her.         "Constellation!" she exclaimed quietly, rushing over.  "What happened?"         Constellation was walking on three legs, her right foreleg tucked up close to her chest.  Blood was seeping through her uniform and she kept one eye closed.  "Dogs," she said, her voice was barely more than a ragged breath.  "They got Farsight and Deep Roots.  I ran.  Found a hiding spot and stayed put until you called."  She winced.  "Don't... don't think I'll be too much help, but I'll do what I can."  When Gleam began to look over her wounds, she was pushed away.  "No!  We... don't have time for that.  Every second we delay is... another second we can be found."  She smiled at Gleam.  "After... after, we'll have time.  I'll make it."         Gleam slowly nodded, and so the ponies prepared for their final act in the mines.  Dew winked at Clear Skies.  "Stay close to me."         Autumn took the last of his Sleepers Dust, and Dew blew it down the passage with a gentle breeze.  There wasn't nearly enough to make the dogs fall asleep, but hopefully it would dull their reflexes just enough to give the ponies an edge.  Once the air had settled, the ponies crept forward, quietly, in the hopes that they might pass to freedom undetected.         Forlorn hopes.         As Dew crept along, doing her best to keep Clear Skies as quiet as everypony else, she saw several dogs in the darkness shuffling from paw to paw or yawning; the Dust was working.  Then there was a shout from up ahead, and all the dogs struggled to full alertness.  In the moment before they pounced, the ponies struck.         The unicorns lit off with a colourful display of magic, knocking aside almost half of the dogs that were about to leap in.  The earth ponies rounded up and lay about them with kicks and bucks, and Autumn disappeared.  From his unseen vantage, the dogs never knew what hit them.  Dew flared her wings protectively over her cowering charge, snarling at any dog that dared to come close and lashing out at any who ignored her.  Within seconds, the ponies looked to have the upper hand.         The unicorns could not maintain a constant rain of magic, and they needed some seconds between spells to recover.  Many of the dogs knocked down in the first wave were standing again, leaping into the melee.  Forte was everywhere, laughing and enjoying his element, keeping battle with dogs all over the exitway.  Camlock was running distraction, flying fast and bouncing off the walls, keeping several dogs off-balance.  Last Leaf and Roanoak ran about holding a rope between them, hooking and tripping dogs everywhere they went.  The unicorns fell into a pattern where always one of them was throwing magic around, but still it was not enough.  The dogs still pushed forward.         More than half of the dogs were on the ground, unconscious or bleeding.  Those standing continued to fight, but their attacks were becoming more and more desperate.  It wouldn't be long before they all turned and ran.  Dew felt the edges of elation running into her mind.         Then everything turned off.  Unicorns and dogs alike saw spells fizzle in the air, and the dogs attacked with renewed fervour.  Dew saw Constellation get swarmed by no less than six dogs, her horn glowing with a spell that would never go off.  Other dogs attacked the unicorns first, but the earth ponies stepped in to protect them, taking blows themselves.  Roanoak succumbed to a dog's claw, and Last Leaf was forced to drop her end of the rope as another dog grabbed it.  Camlock spun into a wall, a dogs several metres behind him holding his bloody wing.  Forte was backed up into a corner, cut off from the rest of the ponies; he was still smiling.  In an instant, the tide had turned.         Dew grabbed Clear Skies and, taking flight, shouted, "GET TO THE EXIT!"  Holding tightly, she barrelled through the dogs that stood between her and freedom, opening a path and taking a spear to her back.  It felt like little more than a scratch, and she burst out into the bright sun of the afternoon air.  Up, she flew; up the side of the mountain refusing to let go of her charge.  High in the air, she placed Clear Skies on a cloud.  "Stay here," she commanded.         She dived back down, calling on the air currents, water vapour, and dust, mixing them into the perfect recipé for a storm.  Down below, the remaining ponies were fighting their way free of the mountain, some of them having reached the plains.  All the way down the dogs were in hot pursuit.         It began to rain.  Slowly at first, quickly building into a torrential downpour.  Coaxing the currents, she built up high winds and threw them at the pursuing dogs, angled so that the ponies could run without being hampered by them.  Several dogs, pounded by the winds, slipped in the mud and were unable to stand.         The rain stopped; all the moisture in the air had been spent.  Dew flew low over the earth, kicking up the water into vapour, forming a dense fog that covered her companion's escape, but the dogs, even slowed by the winds, still came forward.  She would not let them reach her friends.  She pulled the winds and spun them together, faster and faster, until she met the lead dog with a growing tornado.  Larger and larger it grew,  scattering the remaining dogs across the plains.         One last spiral, and Dew flew off, leaving the storm to its own devices.  She caught up with the fleeing ponies and settled into a run next to them.  "You all right?" she yelled.         Never breaking stride, Autumn answered for them.  "We lost some, but thanks to you, we live.  Where is Clear Skies?"         "On a cloud, where I left her."  Taking flight again, she stayed at ground level and pointed.  "Head that way once you're off the wet ground; it should help disguise your trail.  I'll meet you there with our guest."  Autumn nodded, and Dew took to the sky.  She circled over the group, and counted them.         There were six ponies beneath her.  Including herself, only seven ponies walked out where nineteen had walked in.  Perhaps Spotter was still alive in there somewhere, and the three unicorns had somehow escaped, but she couldn't bring herself to believe it.  She hoped, yes, but believing was a different matter altogether.         She banked and flew back to the mountain, staying high in the air.  With relative ease she located Clear Skies' cloud, and landing on it she found her lying down and in tears.  She walked over and gently nudged her.  "Hey, don't cry; I'm here for you."         Clear Skies shook her head, struggling to speak.  "N-n-no, i-it isn't..."  She sniffed, and Dew saw that she was clutching her stomach.  "I-it's... She s-stopped moving." ~ * ~ ~ * ~ ~ * ~         "Why didn't you stop them?" Good Harvest asked.         Grey Gale continued to watch the storm outside the exit.  Left alone, it would die down in a few minutes, but it would be a few more before the dogs would be able to pick themselves up from it.  By that time the ponies would be long gone.  "Because we are here to observe," he answered.         "But," the earth pony persisted, "If this is the threat Equestria needs, isn't it in our interest to help?"         "You are young, so I will forgive your ignorance."  He turned and faced the colt.  "Dusk, please educate him."         Dusk's eyes were closed.  She was in the midst of trying to figure out what happened to the magic here, but she answered easily and immediately.  "If this is the threat we need, it shouldn't need our help."         Good Harvest paused thoughtfully.  "I guess that makes sense."         "You learn quickly," he said, nodding once.  "Come; it will take some time before news of the captive's escape is well known to the dogs.  We must hide until things calm down again, then we shall see what happens."         Grey Gale turned back into the mine, and his two companions fell into step behind him.  "But," Good Harvest asked, a thoughtful expression on his face, "When we do find the threat, we are planning on helping it.  Why do that if we are looking for a threat that stands on its own?"         Gale mentally sighed.  The colt was smart, but he needed to learn to widen his view.  "You are asking the wrong questions.  Tell me, do you think that any beings have any chance to cause the princess and Equestria worry?"         "Aren't we here to determine that?"         "The answer is 'no,' Harvest," Dusk interrupted.  "As powerful as many creatures can be, the princess' power dwarfs them all.  Luna is back, and if anything were to invade there is no doubt that even she would leave her room to fight.  In addition, there is still the Service to contend with; those still loyal to the old ideas.  Against that, do you really think that the princess would be worried about something like this?  Would it, alone, help Equestria?"         The earth pony fell into thoughtful silence.  "I suppose not, but then why—"         "Wrong question," Gale cut in.  "Ask yourself, 'What would happen if ponies were seen helping an invading force?'"         "The ponies would be seen as traitors, of course."         "And what of the enemy?  How would they be seen?"         Silence.  "I suppose... like tools?"         "Something like that," continued Dusk.  "However the details go, it illegitimizes the attack.  Best case scenario, nothing changes.  Worst case, ponies' mistrust is turned inwards, and they turn on each other.  Civil war is something we must avoid."         Harvest digested the information.  "So... we help them so they're powerful enough to be worth noticing, but they must be able to stand on their own so we are not seen helping them?"         "You understand," said Grey Gale.  "There  may be hope for you yet."  He picked up speed, trotting down the stone hall not bothering to check if his two companions were following him.  Starwind, Spell Swirl, and Chestnut were all on the other end of the mine, gathering their own intelligence.  For his part, he hoped.  He was impressed at the size of the pack here, and almost giddy at the fact that there were three Shamans.  He was eager to see what they would do, now that the captive was gone.         This was the real test. つづく To Be Continued...