//------------------------------// // DEATH BRIDLE Chapter 21: Winter Wraps Up // Story: Haycartes' Pluperfect Method // by Kris Overstreet //------------------------------// One of the reasons the various secret societies and monstrous Courts and other denizens of Equestria’s shadows can operate in Canterlot is that the city tends to shut down fairly early. Only a handful of restaurants stays open past about ten o’clock- That was why we always ended up at Pony Joe’s for donuts after a marathon study session! - and most other businesses besides theaters and other entertainment venues shut down by six. For all practical purposes, only two places in all Canterlot operated twenty-four hours a day. One, of course, was the royal palace, which housed the government and the headquarters of the royal guard. The other was Canterlot Station. As mentioned before, Canterlot is the oldest settlement in all Equestria, and the only large city not on a seacoast or a cloud. That, plus the presence of the national government, made it a natural rail hub, once you figured out how to get the trains up half a mile of steep mountain. I remember reading once how the railroad builders tried to set up a switchyard and station at the foot of Mount Canter, so that only traffic going to and from Canterlot would actually have to go up the mountain. That would have created a new town, or even a city, there at the base of the mountain to service all the ponies changing trains or the freight being shuffled between lines. Of course, the wealthier ponies of Canterlot didn’t like that idea, so they got Celestia to pass an edict forbidding any rail lines within twenty miles of Mount Canter that didn’t have or share a terminus at Canterlot Station. (I don’t know what Celestia got in return, but having met the princess once or twice, I don’t doubt it was something big.) Huh. You know, I never asked- AS A RESULT… ahem, as a result- You needn’t shout as if we were in a gale. We’re all in this skull together, madam. -as a result, whereas your average farming village on a rail line sees only four passenger trains per day- one each way in the morning, one each way in the afternoon- Canterlot sees an average of one train every half an hour, at all hours, day and night. Those trains reach as far as Manehattan and Tall Tale, Baltimare and Applewood, Dodge Junction and Rainbow Falls, and more. Which meant if you wanted to spread something across all of Equestria- say, a curse that gives a pony every known disease all at once- then if Cloudsdale wasn’t available, your second best choice for a place to do it was Canterlot’s sole train station. That was my deduction, thank you very much! And that was what had the group of us- the three of us in my body, plus Johnny Respectable, Pale Skies, Maddog, Mighty Gale, and Shadow Lurk, walking up to the station entrance. Lucky Star was standing by the door, glancing up at the station clock facing the city, one hoof tapping impatiently on the cobblestones. “Do you know just how lucky you are?” he asked. “Or did you arrange for that explosion at the school?” Twilight shuffled my hooves awkwardly. “Well,” she said, “I was involved with it, anyway.” “Well, all I can say is, you couldn’t have given me a better excuse for shutting down the rail lines into the city,” Lucky said. “I sent the telegram down the lines the instant the alarm went up. I didn’t even have to go over Captain Armor’s head to do it. We evacuated the station an hour ago. And I’ve got guards in pairs at every entrance except this one.” “That will not slow down the True Canon,” Shadow Lurk rumbled. “No,” Twilight said. “But more than likely they weren’t going to use the doors in the first place. Remember, they know all the tunnels under the city. Wanna bet there’s one that comes up inside the train station?” “That’s a sucker bet,” Johnny Respectable said. “Lieutenant, are there any guards actually inside the building?” “No. From what you told me, all they’d do would give hostages or targets to these True Canon demons.” Lucky shook his head. “If Captain Armor finds out he’ll probably be very upset, so do me a favor and don’t tell him.” Talking to the head of the royal guard in Canterlot is nowhere near the top of my priority list, believe me, Lucky. Excuse me! That’s my brother you’re talking about! Your what?? “Then let’s proceed,” Johnny said while I was having my little mental clash. “Any idea where in the station they’d be doing… whatever they’re doing?” “Someplace close to the center of traffic,” Maddog grumbled. “They’d wanna infect as many ponies as they could, as quick as they could.” “Someplace holy,” Mighty Gale put in. “They’d want to maximize the Sketchbook’s power.” “Holy? The station doesn’t have a church or chapel or anything.” Johnny Respectable rubbed his chin in thought with one hoof. “I remember the Celestia-worshipers were going to have one dedicated, but she put a stop to it.” Yeah, I thought. I remember that, too. And she ordered that it be converted into- “-a library,” Twilight finished my thought aloud. “It’ll be the station library. It opens up onto the main concourse.” “A place of learning and imagination,” Mighty Gale said, nodding. “The perfect place to use the Sketchbook.” Twilight let the others lead the way into the station, which I thought meant she was finally getting some good sense. We stayed away from the center of the concourse, easing carefully along next to the lounges, the ticket counters and the gift shop. Mighty Gale and Shadow Lurk had their swords drawn and at the ready. Maddog’s eyes penetrated every cubbyhole and shadow, on the lookout for ambushes. Pale Skies, Johnny Respectable and I let ourselves be protected, and together we eased our way over to the large room next to the platform doors. The railroad library system was one of Celestia’s more brilliant notions. Riders would check out a book at one station and return it at their destination. Every station had at least a bookshelf full of books of all sorts, but Canterlot Station had one of its largest rooms set aside specifically for its book collection. There, on a table in the middle of what should have been clear walking space, lay Winter Wisdom. There were candles on most of the shelves, the whole threatening to start the largest book fire in Equestrian history if a single candlestick leaked wax. The light backlit the table and its occupant, creating a silhouette and a long shadow that extended almost out to the entry door. It also kept us from seeing the contents of the table clearly at first, and when we got closer I wished it could have stayed that way. Some things need to be dragged out into the light, but others just shouldn’t be seen, and what was on the table… Oh, Faust, I’m gonna- ugggggh!- be sick!! … well, I’m not going to describe it, except to say that Long Game, not being satisfied with giving him every disease known to ponykind, had amused himself with some ritual vivisection. I couldn’t recognize what he left behind as the old kirin I’d met only two days before until he spoke. “Daresden?” he whispered, eyes shut, barely moving, barely breathing. “Don’t come any closer.” “Winter,” Mighty Gale gasped. “Sensei, we’ll have you out-“ “No.” It was still a whisper, and a gentle one, but the word carried a weight that shut down any thought of arguing. “Touch me and you let the curse loose in Canterlot.” The others froze. I eased a little closer. “Maybe I can do something...” Twilight lit up my horn, probing for a weakness in the magic. “The only thing you can do is retrieve the Sketchbook,” Winter said quietly. “Without it the curse cannot spread. Do not concern yourself with me. Find the Sketchbook.” “No,” Twilight said, grinding my teeth and stamping a foot. “I don’t accept this! I don’t accept this contrived no-win scenario! There has to be some way for you to live!” Winter chuckled softly, writhing a little on the table as he did so- it must really have hurt. “Daresden, I was dying already,” he murmured. “In another month or so I would have met Faust no matter what. But this way my death has purpose.” “Sure,” Twilight snorted. “A bit of cheap melodrama just before the final battle. A weak writer’s trick.” Winter chuckled again. “Converting to our beliefs?” he asked. “No, Daresden. Not melodrama. The True Canon required a sacrifice for their plans. They intended it to be you. But instead of a young, strong mare, they ended up using an old buck at the end of his time.” Despite everything else they’d done to him, I could see the smile on his muzzle. “So I protected you. Twice, now.” Twice? “Twice?” Twilight asked. “Blind Faith’s death curse,” Winter whispered. “By offering myself in your place, I took the brunt of the blow. For all his knowledge, he did not understand that.” The little smile broadened a little wider. “Long Game needed me alive for this, so he used the power of the Sketchbook to preserve me. Indeed, the Sketchbook is the only reason I still live at all. When you take the Sketchbook from him, you end the curse… and my suffering.” “Dead mare’s switch,” Johnny Respectable muttered. “Not a perfect analogy,” Winter said. “But I will die either way, so do not think of saving me. Instead, save the world.” Twilight shrugged. “I usually do,” she said. Are you trying to pull off one of my one-liners? I thought. Because that one needs work. No. Do you think you’re the only one who saves the world about once a year or so? “Yes. So Mighty Gale told me.” Winter lay back. “Good luck, Harriet Daresden.” Relaxing, he opened his eyes, which Long Game had made sure would never see anything again, and muttered, “Long Game thinks he has won. Fool. He never understood how I won my victories over him. He thinks it was the sword.” His voice faded to barely more than a breath, but with all of us holding our breath to listen, we still heard him clear as a bell. “He never understood that where one light casts a shadow… many lights together drive shadows away.” Then his eyes shut again, and except for the minimal rise and fall of his barrel, it seemed like Winter Wisdom had passed on already, Sketchbook or not. We had only a couple of moments of silent staring at him, waiting for I don’t know what- For the final respects due the honored dead, you simpleton! - when a train whistle echoed through the building, followed by the squeal of iron wheels on iron rails and the slow chuffing of a locomotive starting to move. “I thought that cop said he shut down the trains!” Maddog shouted. “There must have still been one in the station,” Johnny replied. “No points for guessing who’s on it.” “Nope,” Twilight said grimly. “Long Game’s taking his show on the road.” Now you ARE trying to imitate my one-liners. No! Well… maybe a little. For the sake of whatever version of Princess Celestia elevated you, Hornsparker’s voice said dryly as we all dashed for the platform, I hope you are better at being a princess than you are at bandying words. What, you too? Twilight’s mental voice sighed. Well, at least you don’t call me a hallucination anymore. Head in the game! I shouted mentally as we burst out the doors just in time to see the train cars picking up speed. We’ve got at least two Fallen to deal with, and- Metal coils slashed through the decking around us. Gale and Lurk parried two of them, while Maddog and Pale Skies yanked Johnny out of the line of fire. “Oh, goodie!” Helpmeet squealed, her scales rippling as she called back her metal tentacles for another strike. “I thought blowing that whistle would bring some playmates, but I didn’t expect you!” Her manic grin got even sharper than the blades she flung around. “But don’t worry, Harriet Daresden! I’ve got some extra special fun planned for us!”