Thief in the Night

by Scrying Mind


Thief in the Night

“Legionnaires! Outside! Now!”

Flash Magnus bolted upright in his bed. He didn’t even wait for his sight to return before he started fumbling for his helmet. He pulled it onto his head just as he started making out the shapes around him.

“I said let’s go!” Commander Ironhead shouted. He didn’t spend any longer in the doorway before flying farther down the hall, shouting out to the other members of the Royal Legion.

Flash galloped out of his small barracks room with Grimhoof at his heels. They weaved through the garrison’s hallways and burst out through the front doors. Nimbus Dash and Bella Breeze—the only two Legion fliers faster than Flash and Grimhoof—were stalking across the courtyard toward a figure silhouetted against the rising sun. It perched on the edge, gripping the railing and watching the four pegasi with its gleaming amber eyes. The sunlight glinted harshly off a golden band on one of its talons. Just as Nimbus Dash lunged forward, the griffon jumped off the railing and gracefully dove toward the ground below.

“Buck!” Nimbus yelled. She leaned over the railing for a moment before turning to the others. “Flash, Grimhoof, you catch that thief. Bella and I will tell the commander what happened and try to figure out what he took.”

“What’s going on?” Flash asked.

Bella Breeze looked back as she dashed off. “You saw as much as we did. That griffon broke into Legion headquarters,” she shouted.

“But what did he want?” Flash asked, straining so that Bella could hear him over her own wings.

Before she could respond, Grimhoof leapt over the railing and dove after the intruder. He was right. They didn’t have time for this. Flash followed suit, tucking his wings close to his body and streamlining himself for the quickest possible descent. He angled himself just a bit, and when he was about to hit the treeline of the forest below, he threw out his wings. His momentum slingshotted him forward, and the trees passed below him like a blur. Legionnaires were experts at precision flying, so he was able to fly unnervingly close to the treetops in order to keep an eye on his quarry, who was doing the same. He was steadily closing the gap. What was formerly a blue splotch in the distance was now a proper outline of blue fur and feathers. With each strained wingbeat, the figure came into increasing clarity. Out of the corner of his eye, Flash could see that Grimhoof was doing the same thing.

The griffon paused and turned to look around. That was a horrible mistake.

By the time the griffon halted and turned back, Flash and Grimhoof were less than twenty seconds away. They could see those amber eyes set into that white-feathered head, and Flash swore he saw a plan form behind them. Once he and Grimhoof were almost on top of the griffon, the griffon simply stopped flapping his wings and dropped back-first like a rock into the forest below.

Grimhoof growled in frustration as they overshot their mark and skidded to a halt. “Of course he would.”

“Great,” Flash said. “He can’t outfly us, so now he wants us to find him?”

“I don’t think us finding him is something this guy wants.”

Flash slowly lowered himself onto a branch and started making his way to the forest floor. “Keep quiet. We need to sneak up on him.”

“Are we going in alone?” Grimhoof asked. “Maybe we should call for backup. There are timberwolves, Flash.”

Another careful step onto a lower branch. “That’ll take too long; someone needs to get this guy.” Flash’s glanced down into the darkness. “If you don’t feel safe, I won’t judge you for leaving, Grimmy. But I’m at least going to do this.”

“‘Get this guy’...” Grimhoof started picking his way after Flash. “What did he even want?”

“I don’t know,” Flash said, “but it’s our job to bring him back so we can find out.”

“Whatever it was, he’s willing to lead us on this whole chase to keep it.”

Flash gingerly set himself down onto the forest floor, taking care not to snap any twigs or branches. He squinted through the gloom as Grimhoof landed beside him. The forest was gloomy and dark. Something scuttled around in the unseen parts of the underbrush—maybe a bug, maybe a rodent...hopefully nothing more. The forest floor was thick with bushes and weeds, and the dense canopy barely let in enough light to see. At least their thief would have trouble moving quickly without revealing where he was.

The two quietly searched the forest, moving toward the area the griffon must have fallen into. There didn’t seem to be a trace of him; it was like he had vanished into thin air before hitting the canopy. Flash knew that griffon spies were well-trained, but he hadn’t needed to deal with that training before now. Still, he worked diligently, slowly beginning to fear they would have to go back empty-hoofed. That fear took root in his heart as a certainty, but he wouldn’t let it stop him from doing his job.

There was a feather on the ground. A large, pristine, blue feather. Flash leaned down and squinted. It hadn’t been trampled, and it hadn’t fully settled into the dirt. While he wasn’t a skilled tracker, he was certain it must be fresh. Carefully, slowly, he moved in concentric circles, peering through the gloom and running his hooves through the dirt and weeds. He felt his hoof brushed against something cold and smooth a few tail-lengths from where he started. A small, golden ring with the engraving, To my darling. From L.

“You can’t have that!”

Flash looked up just in time to see the griffon flying at him.

He tried to dodge, but he wasn’t nimble enough. So he tried to fight back. He grabbed his assailant and redirected the momentum toward a thick trunk, but the griffon dug his talons into Flash’s arm and dragged him along. Flash slammed into the tree and felt the bark tear across his back. He collapsed to the ground, coughing and shaking. Every desperate gasp for air brought a stab of pain to his mangled wing. He rose to his feet, still coughing, and looked down at the griffon spy. The remarkably young griffon spy. His eyes were round, his beak was short, and his blood-matted blue feathers were still mottled with light brown.

“Flash!”

Flash turned to see Grimhoof poised to attack. He held his hoof up and silently shook his head, so Grimhoof stopped, fur still bristling. The griffon didn’t care. He snatched the ring off the ground and stared at it, infatuated.. “Lydia,” he said. “My dear Lydia...”

Grimhoof’s gaze had turned from animosity to concern. “How old are you?” he asked tentatively.

“Huh?” The griffon looked over to the legionnaires as though he had forgotten they were there. He glared at them with suspicion before saying, “I’m fifteen.”

This was ridiculous. He was just a kid! Spies were supposed to be trained, regimented, committed soldiers, not children. “What’s your name?” Flash asked.

“Galahad,” the griffon said.

“And why did you try to raid Cloudsdale?”

Realization finally dawned on Galahad’s face, and he started shuffling away from the two pegasi. “Don’t— Please. I just needed some spending money for Lydia. I didn’t even get anything.” He flicked his eyes about as though looking for some sort of escape route. “Don’t...”

So he was just a kid who was offered a few bits. Flash walked over to Galahad, broken wing dragging by his side, and locked eyes with him. Galahad froze in fear and shook his trembling head. “I don’t want to go to prison.”

“We can’t take this kid back,” he said, turning to Grimhoof.

“We can’t?” Grimhoof said.

Flash leaned forward so he was eye level with Galahad. “Go home. Get a better job. Don’t do this again.”

With a flap of wings and a rush of air, Galahad launched himself up through the canopy. After watching the last of the leaves drift to the ground, he turned back to see Grimhoof’s expression of disbelief.

“We’re going to get kicked out,” Grimhoof said.

It was quite possible that was true.

“Aren’t you worried?” Grimhoof was starting pace. “Aren’t you scared?”

“Of course I’m scared, Grimmy. I’m a pony. But the question is if we let our fear stop us from doing the right thing.” Flash took a deep breath. “I’ll be the one to tell the commander.”

Grimhoof stopped pacing, fidgeted, and nodded. “Come on. Let’s go home.”

The journey back was even harder than expected. The more they walked, the more Flash’s wing hurt. He couldn’t fly, so he had to pick his way through the underbrush. Every so often, Grimhoof stopped Flash and flew above the canopy to make sure they were going in the right direction. They got jumpy. Maybe they really saw that timberwolf, maybe they didn’t. Flash wasn’t sure how long they spent walking, but he knew he was tired, hurt, and thirsty.

The sun was low in the sky when they exited the forest. The searing pain in Flash’s wing was getting to be too much for him, and he drew his ragged breaths through his clenched teeth. No matter how he held his wing, the pain refused to subside. He didn’t want to think about how he was getting back up to the cloud city.

“Hold on.”

Flash screamed in pain as Grimhoof grabbed him and picked him up. He twitched, but he felt the arms around him tighten, sending more tendrils of agony through him. The next thing he knew, Grimhoof set him down outside of the barracks, and the two stood there, panting, as legionnaires gathered around them. The muttered expressions of concern and stifled gasps quickly died as Commander Ironhead approached.

“I see our thief got away,” he said, “but he didn’t manage to grab anything before he left. You look like you fought well, Magnus. Get yourself looked at in the infirmary, then I’ll make sure you get a nice, large meal.”

“Actually, sir,” Flash said, “we let him go.”

Commander Ironhead narrowed his eyes. “You need to explain yourself, Legionnaire. Now.”

The ponies around them backed away, and a few turned and left entirely. Nopony would ever want to stand under Ironhead’s angry gaze, but Flash stood strong. The same could not be said of Grimhoof, who cowered behind his injured companion.

“He was a child, sir,” Flash said. “He didn’t know what he was doing.”

“He was attempting to rob a military facility.”

“I know, sir. However, I don’t think we’ll be hearing from him again. You can kick me out if you want, but I truly believe I did the right thing.”

Commander Ironhead gritted his teeth, and Flash could see his left eye twitching. He was clearly angry, but he was fair. And Flash was one of the fastest fliers in the city. No matter what the commander was thinking, there was nothing Flash could do but sit and wait.

“Fine,” Commander Ironhead said. “You can stay, but don’t do anything like that again. If you think that someone needs to be let off, you talk to me first.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“For your punishment, you’ll be cleaning the mess hall for the next two weeks.”

“Yes, sir.”

Ironhead pulled his lips into a slight smile. “Oh, and make sure to get to the infirmary soon, Magnus.”

Flash smiled back. “Understood.”

As Commander Ironhead walked away, Grimhoof sheepishly returned to Flash’s side. “So, I guess we’re okay?” he said.

Flash nodded.

“Come on.” Grimhoof propped Flash up on his shoulder. “Let’s get you to a doctor.”