Daring ducked back inside, slamming the door shut as a salvo of .30-06 rounds spat from Hard Luck’s weapon, spattering against the wall.
“Hide!” she cried to her companions, grabbing a nearby cart loaded with cleaning supplies and shoving it in front of the door.
Strider seized a door at the other end of the room and pulled it open to reveal a hallway extending deeper into the shops. The trio raced down it as blows battered against the exterior door.
Another door with a window was on the left of the hallway, opposite a window to the exterior. It opened into a large machine shop with conveyor belts leading to machines. Open boxes of license plates were stacked in one corner, blank ones on one side and printed ones on the other. Securely locked toolboxes stood along the perimeter of the room.
Daring slammed the door shut behind them and she and Phil, grunting and groaning, pushed a heavy desk in front of it. “Get behind something, quick!” Daring ordered her companions. The three of them all pressed their backs against desks or machines, drawing their guns and trying to still their pounding hearts.
With a great crash, the exterior door split open and armed inmates poured in, flashlights sweeping the shadows.
“They headed further inside,” Hard Luck grunted.
“What’s the plan now?” Snabbt Oga asked. “Team up and sweep the place?”
“Work smarter, not harder, sis,” Hard Luck smirked. “Come on, guys!”
The ten of them retreated from the shop and backed out into the rain.
Daring peered through the window, her night vision contacts allowing her to clearly see through the darkness. She watched as the gunponies fell back several yards, their weapons held ready for any sign of movement. “What are they…?”
Hard Luck signaled and a stallion broke off from the group, sprinting back towards the cell blocks.
“We should get out of here,” Strider urged.
“The back doors just open to the perimeter wall,” Phillip reported. “We’d still have to go around into their line of fire.”
The male stallion was rushing back, carrying a large, squirming bundle. Daring gasped when she recognized the bundle that her former brother was dragging over. “The warden!”
Brick Wall was tossed at Hard Luck’s hooves with a muffled grunt, her rage-filled eyes shining in the rainy darkness. Hard Luck smirked, pulled out a pistol, and pressed it against the warden’s head.
“Okay, sis, I hear you’re a hero now,” she called out, her voice carrying over the din of the storm and the prison. “So let’s put that to the test. You got til the count of ten to come out of there or I’m gonna spray this bitch’s brains all over the ground. You hear me?”
“Oh, fuck,” Daring exhaled, her heart dropping into her stomach.
“One!”
Daring started to push the desk blocking the front door aside, straining against the heavy weight.
“Hold on, think,” Phillip urged, stopping her. “There’s ten of them and we have no approach.”
“Two!”
“We gotta do something!” Daring protested.
“Three!”
Phillip gritted his teeth and stared out the window, eyes darting from enemy to enemy, calculating distance and trajectory.
“Four!”
“These windows are bulletproof,” Strider said. “We can’t do anything from in here.”
“Five!”
“They’ll shoot us as soon as we show our faces,” Phillip stated, though his eyes kept darting to the hostage.
“Six!”
Brick Wall had gone still. Though she continued to glare up at her captors, her chest was heaving with heavy, rapid breath.
“Well, what do we do?” Daring asked, her right hoof twitching in agitation.
Lightning flashed through the sky with a great thunderclap. Hard Luck was silent, cocking her head in consideration. Another flicker of lightning illuminated her face: her eyes darkened and her lips curled back into a small smirk.
“Calling my bluff, huh?” she called. “You’ve got a point, sis. We kill her, we’ve got no leverage and we’ve still got to go in after you.”
The three detectives glanced at each other, holding their breath.
A gunshot echoed through the air, as loud as a thunderclap.
“No!” Daring cried, staring in horror as smoke rose from Hard Luck’s gun. Blood ran from Brick Wall’s chest, blending with the rain and running down her body into the ground. Her eyes stared sightlessly at Daring, silently accusing her of her failure.
“I never was good at bluffing,” Hard Luck shrugged. “Okay, you, you, you, and you, front and the back doors. The rest of you, teams of three. Let’s get the bitch.”
Four of the gunponies split off and ran around the shops, one to each of the walls. Hard Luck and Snabbt Oga each gathered up two of their friends and moved forward in phalanxes, weapons raised, one team each headed to the two main entrances.
“Shit, just great,” Daring exhaled.
“Time for us to get out of here,” Strider urged.
“Definitely,” Daring nodded. “We might be able to take one or two of them, but not ten.”
Doors crashed open on either side. Hoofsteps entered, echoing down the dark, silent halls. More crashes indicated that their pursuers were searching the other rooms.
“Okay, what’s the plan?” Strider asked.
Daring scanned the darkness outside, then nodded and led her companions to hide behind the printing machine. She pulled her lighter out of her pocket, yanked out the flame shroud, then pulled out the flint, spring, and striker wheel.
“Your lighter,” she hissed to Phillip as she twisted the spring around the flint.
“Not here!” a muffled voice sounded from their left. A crash to their right announced the approach of their hunters.
Daring lit Phillip’s lighter and began to heat the flint with it. “We wait for them to come in here, then I’ll blind them with this,” she whispered urgently.
“With that?” Strider asked.
“Trust me,” Daring nodded. “Closest cover is an open emergency exit for the male ward, eighty yards to the northeast. We get there, we should be okay.”
“Should be,” Strider repeated, checking the chamber of his revolver. “I like should be.”
Flashlight beams penetrated the darkness of the hallway outside. Silhouettes danced in front of the door.
“Hey, this door’s blocked!” Snabbt Oga shouted. “They’re in here!”
Hoofsteps pounded up the hallway as the rest of the Family gunponies charged in. Bodies slammed against the door like thunderclaps, pushing the barricade aside bit by bit.
“Come on, come on,” Daring muttered, holding the red-hot flint to the flame.
“Move!” a male voice barked.
Dark blue light slithered into the room, then with a great boom, the door crashed open, sending the desk flying across the room and smashing into the printing press.
The six ponies slithered into the room, weapons held up, flashlights and unicorn beams sweeping the darkness. Two gunponies took up post on either side of the door as the other four split off into teams of two, running up either side of the wall.
The three ponies stood statue-still, breath held, hearts pounding in their ears. Daring held up the flint, the little piece glowing red. Not yet…
“Behind the press!” Oga’s voice barked.
Hoofsteps closed in.
“Now!”
Daring closed her eyes as tight as she could and threw the flint around the corner of the press.
“Flashbang!” Snabbt Oga warned, but it was too late. Before she could finish the word, the hot flint struck the hard floor.
For a moment, it was like the sun was shining directly into the dark room. Blinding light filled every inch of the space, accompanied by cries of pain and surprise.
Daring, Phillip, and Strider burst from their cover as the light began to fade away. Family members were leaping behind nearby cover or huddling behind the domed shields that the two unicorns had instinctively thrown up.
All save one.
“There you are!” Snabbt Oga snarled, turning her weapon on them.
Daring’s whip snapped out and encircled the barrel, tugging the gun down to the floor and sending a brief salvo of bullets into the ground. A moment later, Phillip’s shoulder slammed into the griffoness’ chest.
A moment later, he cried out in agony as her talons dug into his forelegs, drawing blood.
“Gotcha!” Snabbt grinned as she rolled backward, placing her hind legs against his gut. Phillip was flipped over her, pulled inexorably forward by his own momentum. He slammed against the floor with a wheeze, his breath pushed from his lungs. The griffon rolled on top of him, grinning as she drew a claw back to tear his throat out.
“Get off!” He sat up, driving his forehead into her gut. He felt her ribs cracking beneath the blow, but her claws raked at his back, cackling as she tried to pin him beneath her.
“Let him go!” Daring shouted, rushing in and kicking the griffon on the side.
The griffon was driven off Phillip, drawing blood and flesh with her talons as she rolled. Her tail wrapped around the gun, pulling it towards her claws.
“Think fast, sis!” she sneered, snatching up a bundle of license plates with one wing and throwing them at Daring. She ducked as the metal squares sliced through the air, narrowly missing; she opened fire blindly, but Snabbt rolled behind a conveyor belt, avoiding her shots.
The other gunponies, despite still being blinded, were starting to turn their weapons toward the trio.
“Go, go!” Daring ordered, grabbing Phillip by the foreleg and hauling him to his hooves.
Strider slammed the door shut behind them and staggered, grimacing in pain and clutching his shoulder.
“Strider, c’mon!” Phillip urged.
Sucking in air through his teeth, Strider trotted after them, firing a few wild rounds behind them to force Snabbt to back off.
They sprinted for the door, pursued by salvos of bullets. As they raced for an exit, Phillip reached back and drew a boomerang from his pocket.
As they reached the door, he cocked his head to one side, his ear swiveling. Hoofsteps splashed outside, marking the position of the sentries.
He threw the boomerang as Daring shouldered the door open. It struck one target on the forehead, the light yellow hippogriff grunting as she was knocked to the ground.
The white thestral accompanying her ducked beneath the spinning weapon. With a snarl, he turned the shotgun towards Phillip’s head. Phillip tucked and rolled through the wet slush as the weapon roared, gritting his teeth as he felt the hot wind rush over his back.
Strider’s revolver barked, but the thestral threw himself into a cartwheel, avoiding the gunshots. He opened his mouth and screeched, the high-pitched cacophony drilling through the air. Phillip, Daring, and Strider all staggered beneath the auditory barrage, crying out as pain erupted between their temples.
“Florisa restrictum!”
The ground beneath Phillip cracked and vines rushed up from beneath, encircling his torso and pulling him down. Behind him, he heard Daring and Strider crying out as they were seized by more vines, pinned down to the ground as they futilely struggled.
A singsong accent laughed lightly. “Now, where do you think you’re going?” Xixphy purred, approaching from above, her horn alight with a serpentine green glow.
More gunponies rushed in, their faces splitting into grins as they surrounded their trapped prey, weapons held at the ready. The Plague Doctor approached, his raven riding astride his withers.
“Fuck,” Daring exhaled, giving up her struggles.
“You should’ve just stayed out of this, sis,” Hard Luck sneered, aiming her BAR between Daring’s eyes.
A lightning bolt streaked down from the sky, striking the ground next to them in a blinding flash; the resultant thunderclap was like a physical blow, making them reel. The gunponies leaped away with cries of shock, raising forelegs to shield their faces.
Something glimmered in the edge of Daring’s vision: the time amulet around her neck!
With desperate strength, she tore one foreleg loose from her bonds and grabbed the hourglass-shaped decoration, turning it over. Phillip, then Strider followed her movement, grasping their own amulets and turning them over. The pale blue crystal dust began to run down the hourglasses.
Xixphy recovered just in time to see what they were doing, her eyes widening in realization. Her horn lit up and a blade of energy scythed through the air toward them, glowing vivid blue, harsh heat radiating from the attack.
The spell suddenly stopped in midair as all motion froze for a moment, then rushed towards them. Daring winced in anticipation of the blow, but it passed right through them without any effect. The rain began to fall in earnest as the howl of the siren became distorted and sped up.
All around them, their would-be killers gawked in disbelief, gesticulating wildly, their motions sped up. After a few moments, they all turned and left, walking towards the docks at a rapid trot.
More ponies appeared, rapidly sweeping over the prison grounds: the SWAT team and the agents. Daring stared as she saw herself, Phillip, and Strider at the head of the procession before they vanished around the cell blocks.
Abruptly, time resumed its normal pace, the howling of the siren resuming its normal cry. In the distance came the sound of shouting, muffled by the wind and rain.
Daring Do grunted, straining against the vines that were still wrapped around her body. She reached her freed foreleg up and pulled a pocket knife from one pocket, snapping the blade open and sawing at the vines. “Come on, come on, damn you…”
It took a few seconds for her to free herself. “Okay, hold still, you two,” she said, moving to Phillip’s side and cutting away at the bonds.
“Can’t believe I forgot about this,” Phillip sighed as he was released, looking down at the hourglass amulet about his neck, next to the totem of Angkakert.
“I’m just glad it works both ways,” Strider added as Daring started to cut him loose.
Phillip turned to Warden Brick Wall’s body, which was still laying on the ground nearby. He bent over her, but even as he touched his hoof to her neck, the look on his face made it clear that he already knew what he would find.
“She’s gone,” he reported.
“Where did you guys go?!”
Swampfire rushed up to them, his sopping mane in disarray and his eyes wide in disbelief. His gaze dropped onto the warden’s corpse and his jaw dropped.
“How the…where did…when…what the fuck is going on?!” he stammered out.
“What is going on?” Phillip stated.
“You tell me!” Swampfire cried. “One moment the warden’s in death row, now the warden’s out here and now all the guards are sprawled all over death row! Hey! Where are you going?!”
The trio was already racing off towards the death row cell block, the low building illuminated by another flash of lightning.
“What the fuck?!” Hard Luck cried, gesturing at the ground in front of them. “Where did they go?!”
“Dammit,” Xixphy snarled. “Should have taken those amulets first thing.”
“What now?” Snabbt Oga asked.
The Plague Doctor grunted and jerked his head towards the docks.
“Yeah, he’s got a point,” Xixphy nodded. “It’s time for us to cut our losses and head for the boat.”
“Dammit!” Hard Luck spat.
“We don’t get out of here, there’s a chance that none of us get out,” Snabbt said, placing a talon on her sister’s shoulder. “Let’s just go. We’ll get another chance.”
The unicorn huffed in annoyance but nodded. “What about Scarlet?”
The raven leaped off of the Plague Doctor’s shoulder and took off toward death row.
“He’s got it,” Xixphy nodded. “Come on, ponies!”
The group shouldered their weapons and raced for the docks.
Outside death row, Scarlet paced up and down the line of soldiers stacked up outside the main doors, still smoking from the aftereffects of the spell that had blown them open. Gunshots streaked down the hallway towards them, occasionally returned by bullets from her own team.
A pegasus mare, her blue mane streaked with white at the temples, leaned around the corner to bring her shotgun to bear, then cried out as hot lead tore into the side of her neck. Blood gushed from the wound, running into the sopping ground as she collapsed into the snow.
“No!” Scarlet cried, telekinetically tugging the wounded mare to her.
The wide, frightened green eyes sought out Scarlet’s as the pegasus gasped for air, desperately pressing her hoof against the wound even as more hot, sticky blood spurted out. She reached up towards Scarlet for a rescue that she could not provide, then her body relaxed in death, the eyes dimming as life left them.
Scarlet took a breath and gently closed the corpse’s eyes, shaking her head.
A caw made her look up. The raven was standing next to her, gesturing with her head and cawing.
Scarlet frowned and glanced behind her, watching a steady stream of killers disappearing around the side of the building. She stuck her hoof in her mouth and whistled shrilly.
“Family members, fall back to the boat, now!” she ordered. “The rest of you, keep on them! We’ll hold the boat as long as we can!”
Calls of assent and compliance answered her command. Her new brothers and sisters surrounded her, some of them grumbling, but all of them willingly following her.
“You sure about her?” Nail Driver hissed to Scarlet, looking back at the one guest that had managed to escape the cell block.
Scarlet did not look back; she could hear the mare’s excited hisses and giggles as she ran alongside them. “I’m sure that she’ll do what she’s paid. That’s all we need right now.”
The doors of death row were now wide open, smoke still rising from the warped and melted metal, and fresh blood was staining the hallways. Phillip slowly made his way down the floor, looking side to side at the bodies of the officers sprawled across the floor.
“Shot in the back,” he observed, bending down to study the body of a familiar thestral. “They were running for the front doors…how did they get inside?”
“And the inmates are all out,” Strider stated as one of the SWAT unicorns gently patched up his shoulder wound. “Ow!”
“Easy, agent,” the unicorn frowned, watching as the stitches slowly closed the wound. “Okay, that’ll stop the bleeding, but you really need to have a doctor look at this.”
“After,” Strider grunted, proceeding further into the central hallway of the cell block.
“Down here!” Daring called from the female section, illuminating a cell with her flashlight. The lock on the opened door appeared to have been melted by magic, the molten metal still glowing faintly.
The others hurried over to cell 3B, peering into the back. At the back wall of the spartan cell, behind the bunk, a panel had been removed from the back wall, exposing a passageway into the maintenance tunnels.
“Looks like one of them had been planning an escape for a while,” Daring commented. “And if she could get out, the others could get in. Who was in this cell?”
A SWAT officer glanced at an open binder on a guard’s desk and winced. “Oh, no.”
“Who?” Daring pressed despite the churning of her stomach.
“Tinderspark,” the officer confirmed.
“Fuck,” Daring and Phillip said simultaneously.
Phillip growled, glaring at a nearby corpse, the mare staring sightlessly up at the rain-streaked skylight above.
“Could’ve done more,” he hissed, his voice underlined by a distant rumbling. “Could’ve stopped some of them…”
“It was three of us against an army,” Strider replied. “What else could we have done?”
“Could’ve found the ritual,” Phillip growled. “Could’ve…”
He abruptly froze for a moment, then cringed. “Oh. Stupid, stupid, bloody stupid.”
He sprinted out of death row.
“Phil! Wait up!” Daring shouted, racing after him.
“You gotta be kidding,” Strider sighed, chasing after them.
Phillip pushed past Swampfire, who was conversing with the SWAT commander at the entrance of the cell block. “Where are you going now?! Get back here!” the ASAC called.
“One side!” Daring shouted, shoving past him, followed by Strider.
“H-hey! You can’t just--wai--but I’m the acting SAC!” Swampfire protested, his voice rising to a crack.
“Where are we going?” Daring called after Phil, her voice hoarse; every beat of her heart was a sledgehammer blow against her ribs, her lungs burned with every gulp of air, and her muscles screamed with every movement.
“Medical center!” Phillip shouted back, ducking through a gate.
“Why…” Daring’s mind finally clicked: the broken storage room door flashed before her eyes. “Oh, Faust, we’re thick!” she groaned.
The white building approached them, illuminated by another bolt of lightning. As they passed through the doors, Phillip reached up and grasped his hourglass amulet, turning it over. His other two companions mimicked the gesture, the crystal dust falling into the lower chambers.
Once more, the rain striking the windows froze, then began to run up into the sky. Gunponies entered the medical wing, running backward. The bloodstains on a tile corridor rushed back into the body of an orderly, who climbed back to his hooves and ran in reverse down the hall, pursued by two other attackers. The gunponies retreated back out the door; the clutter scattered across the hallway began to move on its own, piling up behind the doors, which slammed shut behind them.
All motion froze for a moment of silence, then came the rain pattering against the windows once more. Outside the siren resumed its howl and the sound of gunfire was audible in the distance.
“This way,” Phillip said, leading them toward a stairwell. He shouldered the door open and shone his flashlight down the darkened stairs.
“Come on,” Daring urged, starting to push past him.
But Phillip held out an arm to stop her, glaring at the concrete steps. “Fresh hoofprints,” he said, pointing at several wet trails running down the stairs. “From outside. Someone’s waiting for us down there.”
“Of course they fucking are,” Daring growled, checking the chamber of her revolver.
“Changelings,” Phillip concluded. “Only way they could’ve gotten in here like that.”
“Where are all the others?” Strider asked.
Phillip closed his eyes and held his breath for a moment, head cocked to one side. From far beneath came muffled whimpering and shivering.
“Down there,” he hissed. “Hostages, sounds like.”
“Guess they wanted to slow us down a little,” Strider replied.
“Thoughtful of them,” Daring added. “Let’s not keep them waiting.”
They proceeded down the steps slowly and carefully, weapons held at the ready. Their flashlights penetrated the gloom, revealing the stark white walls of the basement. Hallways branched off in three directions, lined with doors that opened to the boiler room, storerooms, and other such places.
Philip cocked his head to listen, then pointed to the left. “They’re over there,” he said.
“And so is the storeroom that we’re looking for,” Daring added.
They crept around the corner, weapons held at the ready. A cluster of orderlies and nurses sat or lay in the hallway, some of them completely still, others shivering and flinching from the sudden barrage of light. The door to the storeroom that had been kicked in when they first arrived was at the end of the hall, like the finish line to an obstacle course.
“Detectives!” a young mare gasped out, getting up and trotting towards them with relief on her face, her too-large coat flapping as she moved. “Oh, thank Luna, thank Luna…”
She was fast. The knife appeared from her sleeve like the conjured cards of a stage magician, whipping at Phillip’s neck.
But even exhausted as he was, he was faster. He ducked to one side, brushing the attack aside with his right hoof. He wrapped his limb around hers and trapped it to his body, his left elbow swinging around to collide with her head.
Before the blow could land, the orderly’s body was suddenly awash in emerald flame, the knife falling to the floor. A moment later, the mare was replaced by a long dark python that wrapped itself around Phillip’s chest. “Too slow, Finder!” the serpent hissed in a buzzing, feminine tone at her target’s head.
Daring yelped and drew back from the snake, stumbling over a semiconscious orderly. As she rolled back to her hooves, her flashlight fell on the silver griffon’s neck, marking the two circular holes marred into his flesh, a thin trail of blood running from the wound.
Movement to her right. Daring leaped back into a sprawl as another orderly lunged in like a linebacker, his hooves grabbing nothing but air. Daring crashed on top of him and started to roll off.
“No, you don’t!” the orderly snarled, his body briefly surrounded by emerald flames. When the fire cleared, the changeling appeared before her, his matte black chitinous body seemingly molded from the shadows themselves, his limbs marred with several jagged holes. His yellow eyes burned with a mixture of lust and hate; the “mane” of setae was a venomous green color and the insectoid wings buzzed angrily. It looked just like the posters that had been prominently displayed on nearly every corner of Equestria not too long ago, and Daring Do was reminded of the fear and paranoia that they brought.
Daring leaped back, one hoof going for the stockwhip at her side, but there was another flash of green light behind her.
“Gotcha!” the hulking black bear that had suddenly appeared behind her roared, wrapping its massive, furry limbs about her body.
“Let go!” Daring protested, struggling and squirming within the iron vise that was crushing her ribs into her lungs. Her breath came shallow and rapid; her limbs burned and ached with every movement. Exhaustion had set itself into her bones with the weight of iron and she could not throw it off.
The yellow-eyed changeling closed in, his tongue flicking out to taste the air; a few medical staff that were still conscious scrambled away from him with cries of alarm.
“Been so long since I had a decent feeding,” he grinned, baring gleaming white fangs at Daring as he approached.
A glance over his shoulder informed Daring that Phillip was still struggling with the python that was trying to secure his forelegs to his sides, while Strider was wrestling with two changelings at once; the pegasus was backed up against the wall, holding his forelegs before his face as he tried to shield himself from their blows. His revolver went off by accident with a sharp bark, sending a round into the ceiling and prompting the trembling orderlies on the ground to cry out in panic and cower as close to the floor as possible.
The fangs lunged at Daring’s neck, quick as a viper. Daring snapped her head forward and the changeling bellowed in pain as his teeth collided with her helmet-clad forehead, some of his fangs snapping off as he reeled away.
“You little--!” The bear tightened his grasp around Daring’s chest. She wheezed as her lungs were compacted like a car in a crusher. Her heart sounded like a drumbeat in her ears as she strained for air, her useless struggles growing feebler by the moment. Through the shadows that were encroaching on her vision, she saw the yellow-eyed changeling recover himself, snarl, and lunge at her again.
And then came that familiar whistling noise, cutting through the noise of combat, even carrying over a distant rumble of thunder. The yellow-eyed changeling grunted and collapsed facefirst onto the ground, the boomerang clattering to the floor next to him.
“Wanker!” Phillip growled, ramming the elbow of his free foreleg into the python’s head. He slammed himself against the wall, crushing his foe’s skull between his body and the brick. The python grunted and tumbled off his body, her body briefly wrapped in emerald flame as she transformed back into her changeling form. A kick to the head left her sprawled across the ground, out cold.
One of the changelings fighting Strider turned to engage Phillip and promptly paid for this mistake when Strider struck her partner in the face with his revolver, sending her spinning to the floor as blood ran from her nose. Squinting through a black eye, Strider took aim and fired.
The massive arms pinning Daring’s body immediately slackened as the bear staggered. His body was ablaze for a moment and a changeling crashed to the ground, jaw hanging open as though in disbelief, a bloodied hole all that remained of his right eye.
“Bastard!” the bloodied changeling snarled, leaping up at Strider and pinning him to the ground.
“Storeroom!” Phillip ordered, rushing in to help Strider.
Daring Do sucked in a breath and turned, leaping over the changeling’s corpse to the door waiting for her at the finish line. In one smooth movement, she pivoted and bucked with both legs. The door held firm the first time, sending pain radiating up her limbs. She sucked in a breath and kicked again. This time, the door crashed open.
A rhythmic thud-thump, thud-thump, thud-thump greeted her. On the floor of the storeroom, sitting between two shelves of medicine was an equine heart, its pinkish flesh adorned with carved symbols that she did not recognize, but which nonetheless made eyes water at the mere sight of them. The heart continued to beat at a steady pace, the sound and motion sending Daring Do’s stomach twisting into knots. Surrounding the heart in an intricate pattern were several carefully carved prisms of amberclaw, the honey-colored translucent stones intricately shaped into asymmetrical forms. Colors that Daring could not quite name and twisted reflections danced within the amberclaw; she quickly pulled her gaze away when she thought she saw something turn to face her.
Pulling out her pocket knife, Daring snapped open the blade and jumped forward, aiming for the heart.
“Hold it!”
Daring froze and turned around. The yellow-eyed changeling had grabbed an orderly and was clutching the shivering young griffon to his chest, holding a knife to his exposed neck. Behind him, Strider was sprawled across the floor, unconscious. The changeling with the broken nose was pinning Phillip to the ground, crouching over him like a wolf protecting her kill, fangs locked around his neck, growling warningly as blood from her broken nose dripped onto her quarry’s face. Phillip lay still, save for the rapid rise and fall of his chest, his eyes a mixture of defiance and fear.
“Drop the knife,” the yellow-eyed changeling hissed at Daring.
Daring glared back at him, eyes darting from him to Phil to the pleading gaze of the griffon orderly. The young white griffon gasped as the knife pressed against his neck, drawing a bit of blood.
“Now!” the yellow-eyed changeling ordered.
Daring took a breath and slowly started to lower the knife. Something thumped against her chest, a comforting cold weight: her totem of Awely-Awely.
Desperate hope fluttered faintly in her gut. Daring took in a breath and stretched out her wings. A faint tingling danced beneath her feathers, seeming to reach up towards the sky like a weak magnetic pull, reaching up towards the storm above. The scent of rain filled her nostrils, filling her down to her core, and she faintly thought she felt a presence behind her.
“Please,” she whispered.
Thunder suddenly roared from directly overhead, the building shaking as though it had been struck by a broadside of cannon fire; light flared down the hallway. The two changelings reeled back in shock, eyes widening in sudden shock.
Phillip’s limbs felt like they’d been encased in lead; his head thumped with every heartbeat like someone was using his skull as a drum. But the crack of thunder sent a burst of energy through his body and he lashed out. His right hoof cracked against his quarry’s ribs, drawing a wheeze of pain, then his left smashed into her jaw. She spun like a top, crashing to the floor next to him with a groan.
The yellow-eyed changeling turned towards Phillip at the noise, his grip on his hostage slackening. The griffon immediately pulled away from him, flinging himself to the floor.
Daring whipped around, snatching up her knife again. She raised the blade and lunged for the beating heart.
“No!” the changeling shouted. Emerald light briefly illuminated the wall before her and she heard wings behind her, closing in on her.
But it was too late. She drove the blade into the heart with a sickeningly wet thump. The heart began to beat frantically, violently spasming in response to the blade. The swirling colors in the amberclaw prisms began to glow brighter and brighter, cracks spreading across the stone.
Daring turned away, raising a hoof to shield her eyes. There was a dazzling explosion of lights and colors that she couldn’t name, a rush of wind that nearly lifted her off her hooves, and a deafening noise that she could not quite describe, something between a roar, a clap of thunder, and a crash of waves.
The sound faded away, leaving complete silence in its wake. Daring slowly lowered her hoof to find that all that was left of the ritual was a shapeless form of bloodied meat and a pile of honey-colored dust. She turned around.
A black hawk was hanging in midair behind her, talons reaching out towards her, completely still. Daring stared, then slowly raised a hoof and waved it in front of him. No reaction.
“What the hell?” she asked, looking around him.
Phillip was laboriously climbing to his hooves with a moan; Strider groaned as he came to. Everycreature else was completely frozen, either sprawled on the floor or crouching against the wall.
“What happened?” Strider asked, looking at the changeling with the broken nose. She was laying on the ground, seemingly petrified in the act of trying to get up.
“I…” Daring said, glancing down at the hourglass amulet around her neck. “I think I broke time.”
The trio slowly climbed up the stairs to find that the exterior doors were still blocked. “Great,” Strider grumbled as they pushed the barricade aside and opened the door.
The raindrops were hanging frozen in midair; the siren had ceased its howling, leaving an unsettling silence in its absence. Daring looked towards death row and saw a cluster of ponies gathered around the building, all of them frozen like statues: both the invaders with their BARs gathered around the door in preparation to breach and the SWAT officers milling about the building. Swampfire was standing right next to a gunpony frozen in the act of firing into the doors.
“Yeah,” Strider said, sitting down with a groan. “You broke time. Any ideas on how to fix it?”
Daring let out a weak laugh. “I’m just glad that we stopped some of--”
A thought flashed through her mind. She ran for the docks, but only managed a few yards before her exhaustion caught up with her, like boulders tied to her hooves. She only managed a weak trot past the barracks, with Phillip behind her.
At the top of the stairs, they looked down towards the pier. The waves were still moving, crashing against the stones. The boats that they had arrived on were all aflame, the glow of the fire reflecting off the water.
The ferry was pulling away from the docks with engines grumbling, loaded with passengers. Standing on the rear deck was a familiar pink unicorn; she raised a hoof and gave them a mock salute. The redhead next to her sneered back at Daring, her scarred face twisting grotesquely.
“No!” Daring cried, trying to push herself forward, only to stumble as her muscles finally gave out.
The ferry seemed to shimmer like a mirage, then vanished from view, the wake swallowed up by the dark, churning waters; even the sound of the engine was silenced. Daring Do and Phillip Finder could only stand and stare helplessly into the night.
“Free,” Scarlet Letter sighed, sagging against the railing. “We are free.”
The escapees around her erupted into cheers. Winged creatures flapped their wings in elation, though they were careful not to take off, lest they were pulled from the protection of the invisibility ward painstakingly painted into the hull of the ferry. Friends embraced one another, laughing or crying in joyous relief. A few of those with guns fired off excited rounds into the air.
Scarlet took in a deep breath of the salty sea air, letting it fill her to her core, then slowly letting it out with a smile. She turned to the zebra next to her.
“Once we get to Manehattan, you’ll meet up with Doctor Caballeron,” she reported. “He’s getting close to finding Thicket and could use some help.”
“I’ll gladly tell what I know,” Xixphy smirked. “Such a shame my old partner can’t be here to see it.”
“Bonne. And you,” Scarlet said, turning to one of their escapees, who was leaning against the railing, eyes closed, blissfully ignoring the fact that the others escapees were keeping their distance from her. “We’ll have work for you in time.”
“Just give me some napalm and my pay,” Tinderspark rasped with a grin. “I’ve been eager to get back to work.”
“Excellent,” Scarlet nodded.
With a fluttering of wings, the red-breasted raven landed on Scarlet’s withers. It cooed softly and nuzzled into her mane.
“Excusez-Moi,” Scarlet smiled, heading back inside. Reveling escapees greeted her as she passed, some embracing her and tearfully thanking her. Scarlet exchanged cheek kisses and kind words, wiping away tears and returning smiles as she made her way up to the top deck.
He was waiting for her at the bow, looking out over the bay towards the glowing skyline of Manehattan. He turned to greet her, red eyes shining beneath the mask.
Joy flooded through Scarlet’s veins. She strode forward, lighting up her horn, delighting at the simple act of exerting her will on the world around her. She tenderly removed the healer’s mask to reveal the balaclava that his head was shielded by, hooking it against his belt.
He pulled her into his arms, wrapping his wings around her body as she tugged the cloth away from his mouth. Their lips met in a long, deep kiss, the first that they had shared in far, far too long.
“Mon amour,” Scarlet Letter whispered, allowing herself to rest against his chest. He tucked his chin atop her head and she heard him taking long, deep sniffs of her mane.
The invisible ferry and its illicit cargo trundled on silently through the bay, unseen and unstopped.