“Tis…different from what I remember it being?” Luna said to no pony in particular as they all rounded the hill and glanced down towards the cloudsdale manor.
Golden couldn’t help but agree with the sentiment. Despite the bright sunny day, the manor itself looked as though storm clouds should have been hanging over it and a voice should have been loudly proclaiming "it's alive!” From the depths of its gloomy facade.
She had seen paintings of the ancient manor in the halls of Canterlot castle, right before her head had been accidentally launched through them following some “humorous accident.” From what she had seen, (at least in the brief moments before she had destroyed priceless historical artefacts,) the manor had been a shining beacon of stately homes, regal and elegant, crested with ivy and surrounded by luscious green hills flanked by fields of daisies.
Often though reality was very different to a painting. Which was to say, it was an out and out lie.
What white there was left was mostly chipped onto the floor or peeling off the walls to reveal a dirty moss covered stone. Ivy had not so much crested the walls as it had kicked in the doors and windows, put its toothbrush in the bathroom, taken half the fridge for itself and settled for the long hall on the coach.
They walked on, past the crumbling facade and creaking iron gates into the front garden. Golden trod around the holes in the gravel path, and glared at the scum filled fountain which bubbled ominously like a prehistoric tar pit. She glanced up at a statue of an alicorn with both front hooves missing. Its mouth open, presumably to spray water into the fountain, had rusted brown. As she passed by, Golden could hear a foreboding rumble somewhere in the depths of the piping inside.
All in all the artist who had painted that picture had either taken great liberty or was more likely blind.
The royal retinue, which followed the princess consisted of herself, her uncle Silver Tongue, a small army of maids and a hoof full of interchangeable guards, Golden could never work out which ones (1) and a stroller containing a little princess. Said princess had been up all night causing chaos to everyone on the train and was now sleeping it off in a push pram until the next reign of terror could commence.
The journey had been less than pleasant, the little hatchling princess seemed to possess infinite energy, like a self propelling machine it seemed the more she ran the more she couldn’t stop. It had taken golden and three other maids just to corner her in the caboose of the train and three more to put her into a stroller.
Golden was hoping for a chance to sleep in a nice bed and if anything experience the countryside outside the mansion. But it was starting to look like she was going to experience it from inside the mansion as well.
“Any chance we made the wrong turn?” Golden asked hopefully, as he looked back to her uncle who was frowning down at a map. His Specialized Wellington boots squelched as he glanced flicked from the grass to the map with suspicion.
“There’s only one manor in Briddleton…unfortunately.” Silver answered, his chins forming into a prominent frown. “Strange, it wasn’t like this a year ago?” He mused.
“Well,” Luna said with a look that screamed best of a bad situation, “let us not dally, I am eager to see my old stately home.” With determination forming on her features she took a step forward.
No sooner had her guided horse shoe taken another step on the gravel, the door to the manor, what was left of it anyway, flew open and slammed against the walls.
They all watched, in various states of shock as a minotaur, a rather elderly one judging by the white beard, a walking cane and only marginally enormous muscles stormed outwards, directly toward them.
What left the mountain of bull’s mouth and nostrils was a stream of snorts, growls and guttural throat noises that sounded like a deranged steam train going off the rails. Both Silver and Golden took a step backwards on instinct. But Princess Luna just stood still, her only movement was a slight raising of her eyebrow.
“I think you are quite mistaken, good sir,” she said back to the Minotaur, apparently understanding the hulking mass of muscle barely contained inside a black suit and tie, “Tis my lawn you are standing on and who are you to claim otherwise?” She asked without a trace of fear.
He took another step closer, letting out another grunt and a series of snorts. Golden had heard Minatorian around the castle, but even by their standards this seemed aggressive. This was only compounded when she saw him kick up gravel with his hoof and lower his horns towards them. (2).
“Do not worry, this is just a simple misunderstanding.” Luna said calmly, “we will handle this diplomatically.”
Golden waited for the princess to speak but instead she scuffed the dirt with her front hoof for a moment much like the bull had. Then nodded to herself, lowered her head a fraction and charged.
Golden watched, mouth half open as the two launched at one another. Golden, somewhat of an unwitting expert at head collisions, winced as an immovable object and an unstoppable force collided head first into one another. The sound was like two melons slamming into concrete but hopefully without the same mess.
Both of them flew backwards. Everything from the princess horn to her tail shook like a bowl of jelly. The Minotaur fared little better. He stood there stiff as a board for half a second, then collapsed like a felled tree onto the gravel.
All at once they ran towards the princess, who was gazing around like a pony on the wrong end of drunk.
“Luna are you okay?” Silver asked, concern marring every chin and Jowl.
“Hah please! W-we haf s-s-seen c-calf’s who s-strike h-h-harder Silver.” Luna slurred, still vibrating.
“Umm, I’m over here princess.” Silver said.
Luna furrowed her brow, “Presh Silver sh-op m-m-multiplying, tis hard to talk with sho m-m-many of you at o-o-once.” She said looking everywhere but at him.
A thick and heavy groan brought all eyes back to the Minotaur who slowly sat back up. On cue, the royal guards formed a protective spear tip around the princess. But to Golden's mind, it looked more like the perfect triangle of pins for the bowling ball of a bull.
But to everyone's surprise he simply sat there blinking slowly. “That headbutt, could it be?” With awe blazing in his voice, he reached into a coat pocket. With two fingers he pulled out a pair of thick rimmed glasses.
“The night princess, it really is you?” He said squinting through the lenses at princess Luna.
“You recognised her from head butting her?” Golden asked.
“Oh course!” He boomed, a smile etching his snout. “The night princess’s headbutt is legendary across the whole of my homeland. They say that it is like colliding with the densest mountain. I am so honoured to receive it.”
“Who dares call me dense?” Luna said shaking her head, her eyes slowly focusing once more back in place.
“Princess, the tales are true, you are as strong of neck and skull as my ancestors foretold.” He said, kneeling down and offering his hand to the princess. She blinked down at it then smiled and offered out her hoof in return. “I am truly honoured to touch horns with one as thick of forehead as you.”
“Oh stop please, thou art exaggerating,” Luna said, in a tone of voice that seemed to suggest that he continue for a lot longer.
“To think, I would finally meet the mare who defeated my great great ancestor Ugrah and pressed his family into eternal servitude.”
Luna blinked, furrowing her brow. “Wait a moment, you are a descendant of Ugrah Skull Crusher?”
“The very same.” He said, his giant chest puffed out proudly. “You defeated him in a duel of head butts and then spared his life so long as he and his herd swore to serve you for all eternity.” He wiped a tear from his eye, “we still raise a glass of milk to you every day before chewing our cud.”
“Is that… true?” Silver asked as they all turned to Luna.
Luna blinked, clearly trying to remember that day, “Tis… true that we bested him in a duel. Every pony who was any pony, was sparing opponents and pressing them and their progeny into eternal servitude. ‘twas all the rage back in the day. But it was just something you said,” she shrugged as though ruling others and making them serve you for all eternity was indeed just one of those things. “No pony actually did it, maybe one summer at best, but I did not think for a moment old Skull Crusher “the great betrayer” would actually take us seriously.”
The Minotaur nodded his head knowingly. “It was a moral conundrum your grace. You see, by pressing him into service his greatest act of betrayal was in fact to not betray you at all. It was the only way of saving face.”
Golden rolled that around in her mind a few times, but each time it seemed to make less and less sense the more she thought about it.
He rose back up to his impressive height and bowed deeply, “Welcome ma’am.” The Minator said, his rugged frame smoothing to somewhere between a prized butler and a prized bare knuckle boxer. “My name is Iron Hoof, I am the head butler of the household.”
“Charmed.” Luna said with a smile. Golden watched her for a moment. There was no sarcasm behind the statement, no distrust in her eyes. She supposed it really was just griffons that she didn’t like.
Iron Hoof turned to address the rest of them, but as he opened his mouth his eyes locked on Golden, or more accurately, the stroller that Golden was pushing.
“Who is this?” He asked.
“It’s the princess daughter-,” Golden paused, already feeling Luna's deadly glance aimed at the back of her skull, “-adopted-daughter,” she amended.
“My word.” The minotaur said, “may I see her?” He leaned forward before Golden had a chance to stop him.
“Wait!” Golden cried out, but it was already too late. There was a squeaking sound, then the Minator moved his head backwards, now with a cranky cub attached to it.
“Ha!” He said his voice slightly muffled from a mouth full of feathers. “A feisty one I see, a true heir of the night princess as I live and breathe.”
“It most certainly isn’t, I have no such feist!” Luna snapped, in a tone of voice that didn’t help her cause.
“Are you okay?” Silver asked, wincing.
“Haha, no, I’m actually in tremendous pain.” He said with a smile, “but you have to let the little ones have their fun.” With a gentleness that Golden didn’t expect from such a giant frame, he lifted her off him by the scruff of her neck with two fingers. The cub in question blinked a few times then giggled.
“I’m so sorry, she does that sometimes.” Golden said, though by sometimes, she meant all the time.
He shrugged his massive shoulders as he smiled at the little princess. “Well a healthy cub is bound to do those things. Winder was the same way when he came here. Always leaping at things, it’s how they play.” He said gently placing the cub back into the pram.
“Winder?” Golden asked,
“The groundskeeper. He’s been in this manor nearly twenty years now.” He nodded towards the back of the stately home. “I hate to admit it, the manor itself has fallen on hard times. But the garden still rivals any of the land. Even Buckley manor, those self righteous low life scoundrels that they are,” he said, turning towards the horizon, “Yes, you’ll get yours someday,” he muttered, eyes narrowed to slits as he stared into the distance.
Golden and Silver shared a puzzled glance at one another. Mutually agreeing without speaking that it was best not to ask.
“Oh simply astounding, yet more griffons, there goeth the neighbourhood.” Luna groaned. “Might as well sell the property now, no getting rid of them once they’ve nested in.” She said, shaking her head at the sorry state of it all.
Iron Hoof turned away from whatever vendetta he had been muttering about and bowed deeply once more. “Where are my manners, please your grace, right this way.” He said moving with a proffered hand, guiding them towards the ancient weather worn doors.
The Inside of the manor was not much better than the outside. The floorboards didn’t so much creak as ominously threaten to cave in with a great groan. Ancient spiderwebs dangled from all four corners of the cavernous entrance, hanging like tapestries. Dust lay as thick as carpets under and over the furniture, almost pulsating. What had once been gold furnishings had turned a faint sickly orange colour. It said a lot to Golden that somehow even the gold had begun to rust.
She pushed the stroller forward and nearly jumped bodily backwards when she saw four long, thin chitinous legs the size as a large dog curl backwards into one of the webbed masses.
“I sincerely apologise for the lack of upkeep ma’am.” Iron Hoof said knowingly. “I’m afraid it’s only me looking after the manor. We’ve had a devil of a time trying to find good help since Lord Snap Case.”
“Who?” Luna asked.
“The old proprietor of the property.” He said, “the manor was given to him to care for by your sister as a reward for his years of patriotic support. But unfortunately he lost his fortune and sanity down the years and last year he disappeared without a trace, and with it went the upkeep of the manor.” He sighed.
“I was unaware that the manor had changed hooves?” Luna said, “what happened?”
“Strangest thing really?” Iron Hoof said scratching at his chin with an idle finger. “No one is quite sure, some of the local villagers blame the ghost that haunted the house for generations. Others on the supposed Zebra burial ground under the floorboards.”
“G-Ghosts?” Golden said, glancing around nervously.
“But my money is on Lord Snap Case's rampant obsession with collecting occult objects from all over the world. I tried to tell him, I said sir you can never just stop at one, everyone knows once you start you can’t stop collecting ancient powerful artefacts, but did he listen?” Iron shook his head sadly. “Now I’m afraid the basement’s positively flooded with the damn things.”
“That, or perhaps it’s the fact that old Snap Case also never learned that you're supposed to go under twenty one in Blackjack.” Silver whispered knowingly to Luna.
“It’s all a sorry state really.” Iron continued, “I’ve tried to do all I could, but I’m getting old and there’s only so much these hands can clean.” He said with a dejected sigh.
Luna walked over, placing a wing over his shoulder. Which took an effort considering he was three feet taller than her and three times as wide. “Do not worry about a thing my good bull. We have highly skilled maids for just such a problem.” She gently guided him towards another room. “You leave that to them, We have more pressing matters.” She leaned in conspiratorially. “Can we ask you a question, do you fence Mr. Hoof?”
The old Minatorian blinked, then slowly nodded, “Of course your grace, national sport of my homeland, I practice every day for two hours, helps keep my wits about me.”
For the first time in over a week, Golden saw Luna give a genuine smile, “Ahh, I thought as much, we think you and I are going to get along famously, my good bull.” She said, leading him away from the group.
Golden watched them go, thankful at least that the princess had been distracted. She hadn’t been too comfortable around her lately, what with being threatened into a pit of snakes by said Alicorn not more than two days beforehand.
Silver turned to the retinue. “Okay everyone, we know our jobs, guards secure the area, maids…” he turned to watch a dust bunny the size of a tumbleweed roll past the group. “Eh, good luck.”
As if in cue one of the maids, a stallion with half a cigar burning in the corner of his mouth stepped forwards. Armed with a scar across his cheek and a frilly attire complete with a bonnet and pink bow he gazed at the rank and file of the maids, “alright you heard em fillies, pick your weapons.”
Golden watched as he lay out an assortment of feather dusters, brooms, mops and other cleaning devices. “I won’t lie to you mares,” he said, pacing up and down the line of stoic maids, “this mission is like nothing we’ve ever faced before.” He eyed the room like a general surveying a battlefield.
The mare's faces were all set with grim determination as they nodded in unison. “Some of you might not make it,” he continued, “but I just want to say, it’s been an honour to mop and brush by your sides.” He turned, blowing smoke ominously out the other corner of his mouth then took a deep breath. “Glory to the first maid to fall!” He roared and all as one they charged into the heart of darkness.
Golden watched them go, feeling like she should do something. “Umm Uncle, what do you want me to do?”
He turned back to her as if he just reminded she was there, “Oh Golden, yes um, perhaps you could take our little princess around the garden for a while, come back in an hour” he grimaced as a maid tackled a swarm of dust bunnies bodily. “Maybe two.”
“Don’t you want me to help clean up?” She looked at the other maids. Most of whom were savaging the spider webs and monstrously gelatinous dust balls that seemed, despite all evidence to the contrary, to be fighting back.
“Hmm?” Silver said, turning back again, “oh um, I don’t think that will be wise.” He said slowly. “We need all experienced hooves on deck here. Code red, you understand right, Golden? Besides, you’re much better at looking after the princess.”
She wanted to protest, but she could read between the lines of what he was really saying, you're less trouble looking after the princess.
“Yes uncle.” She said dejectedly. Just another acknowledgment that she was in the wrong line of work.
Slowly, she pushed the stroller back towards the doors. Ducking forlornly under a maid who was thrown back by a spider the size of a small Labrador that hissed at her menacingly.
“Ha, I’ve tackled bed bugs worse than you before breakfast, come get some bug boy!” She gave a roar that would have made a Valkyrie blush, clutching a feather duster like a dagger as she dived boldly at the arachnid.
Slowly, somberly, Golden shut the door behind her.
“Come on little princess, you have to eat something!” Golden slumped down by the side of the water fountain gently rocking the little Griffon in her hooves. She pushed the bottle towards her beak only for the lioness to push it away with a mewing protest.
“It’ll make you grow up big and strong.” She cooed to the cub. Though the idea of the lioness getting any stronger or faster was a frankly terrifying concept.
She sighed as the lioness pushed it away again and set the bottle down on the stone of the fountain rim. Just one more thing she was failing at.
Was this going to be her life, botching up one job after another? The only thing she was good for was the one thing she had no passion for at all. She glanced down at her cutie mark and sighed.
Trying to distract herself from her current predicament, she gazed around the gardens of the manor. Huge primrose bushes of almost every colour were lined around the width of the old disused fountain like a wall of vegetation. Whoever cared for it had truly gone the extra mile, not a leaf was out of place.
“Glad to see some pony out there’s found their calling.” She muttered to herself.
“Har du det bra?” Asked a voice directly by her ear.
Golden screamed, nearly launching the cub in the air as she flung herself from the bench. She stumbled backwards over the lip of the fountain. her back hit against the statue of the broken alicorn.
Something burbled ominously in the pipe inside it. Golden froze as she glanced behind her. The rumbling filled her mind with the image of a bowling ball being pushed through a straw.
The statue began to vibrate violently, then suddenly… it stopped.
Golden caught her breath, glanced at the lioness who was still in her hooves and gazed back at the voice.
The figure that had scared her was looming over the fountain edge. Its face was covered in a protective bees hive netting obscuring its features in shadow. Its legs were covered by two long thick gloves and ragged boots worn and tattered.
“Don’t you know how dangerous it is to scare a mare when she’s holding a cub. This thing is fully loaded you know!” She said holding up the cub who held her talons up towards the stranger making a grabbing motion.
The stranger cocked its head eerily slowly to one side, towering over them. Golden wasn’t a small mare, but the stranger still easily had a hoof or two over her. Well used muscles flexed under grey fur and mud. Golden glanced at the ominous figure, unmoving and unresponsive.
Suddenly Iron Hoof’s words about curses and occult ghosts didn’t seem that silly anymore.
“W-who are you?” She asked the imposing figure, it breathed ominously behind the fabric mesh of the helm.
It seemed to ignore her question and instead turned back towards the bottle, and opened the top.
“H-Hey, that’s not yours!” She said as the figure brought the bottle up to the mesh around its face, sniffed it and then, much to Golden's astonishment, began to walk away with it.
She scrambled upright instantly. “H-hey get back here!” The little cub wrangled in her hooves as if even she couldn't believe the audacity of it.
Stealing milk for a baby, even for a ghost that was low! Golden slid back up to her hooves and followed the apparition as it moved through the garden.
Leaving the stroller she sprinted out towards it, only catching glimpses as she passed the tall walls of cut hedges.
Whatever it was, it knew the maze of bushes inside and out. She turned a corner just in time to see the figure strolling down a pair of rickety cellar doors and into a basement below the manor. “Hey I’m talking to you, do you know who this cub belongs to? You’re in big trouble mister!”
Her response was the cellar doors slamming shut.
She raced forward, pulled the handles back and stared downwards towards the black abyss below. Water dripped forbiddingly from the ceiling, pooling by the slimy stairs that lead into blackness. The only light was an ominous red glow somewhere in the distance which was somehow worse than total darkness.
She thought about cutting her losses then and there. But what was she going to tell her uncle? ‘Sorry I lost the princess milk and bottle because some ghost snatched it and walked down into some creepy hideout.’ As if he would believe an excuse like that…again.
He’d probably give her that knowing smile and pat her on the back. He would be understanding and he would have that look in his eye that would say, she did the best she could given what she was.
Golden but her lip, glanced down at the caller and then at the hatchling nestled in her foreleg, “if anything happens go for the face okay.” She whispered to the cub who simply giggled in reply.
Slowly, she walked down the moss and bracken covered stairs. Below her she could hear the clinking of glasses and a tuneless humming ricocheting off the walls.
Golden eyes adjusted to the sanguine red of the light. It took her a moment to see what was making it. Or rather, which of the many were making it.
All around the basement lay a motley collection of ancient and ominous items. Like a junk yard sale for the possibly deranged and definitely evil. Skulls and spiked balls lined the walls, books flapped open and hissed when she moved too close to them. An Onyx lock box levitated on a pedestal, surrounded by chains and began to glow an even darker shade of red as she passed.
She gulped, clutching the little princess against her chest. Why did these types of things always happen to her? Why couldn’t it just be a regularly haunted old cellar in a mansion. She winced as something moved in the shadows.
It was the stranger, its forelegs moved up and snatched a single jar from a shelf. A collection of what must have been hundreds of jars and beakers each containing white, green and yellow powders, dried fungi, roots and other items Golden couldn’t make out surrounded an ancient workbench it was huddled over.
She watched him, as the ghoulish figure took out a table spoon and began to mix some brown powder into the princess bottle.
Despite herself Golden yelled out, “Caught you red hoofed.” She strode forward, anger and tiredness taking over her fear. “Attempting to poison a princess in the act, you just wait until the guards hear about this, ghost or no your in deep now.” The figure froze, then slowly turned to face her. They stared at one another, well she stared, whatever it might have had for eyes where still hidden behind the mask of netting.
She gulped as it moved almost silently towards her. Only then did she notice that it had something in its arms, a pair of garden shears.
All at once Golden realised she probably should have stayed silent. She turned, moving backwards, “stay away, I’ll, I’ll” but before she could finish thinking of a threat something caught her leg.
The figure lunged at her, “Vente!”
But it was too late, something engulfed her. A heavy cloth covered her vision and she screamed. There was a swearing sound and she found herself struggling against what had engulfed her.
“Help, I’m being kidnapped!” She screamed. Coughing at the dust that was filling her mouth and eyes. She struggled for a few frantic moments, then shee felt something tug at the other side and suddenly she could see light again.
Slowly through the haze and water in her eyes she looked up from her back to see the figure standing over her.
Not a ghost, but…another Griffon?
“Are you well, little pony?” It, or rather he asked.
Rubbing the dust from her face she caught sight of sky blue eyes staring down at her.
“You're not a ghost?” Golden said, in the tone of voice that was trying to be reasonable while madness was breaking down the door with a cleaver.
“Not since last I check?” The now very obvious griffon in front of her answered.
“What just happened?” She asked.
“I trying to warn you, thought you spoke Griffonian, you walk backwards into mirror and snag paw on canvas cover. It fell on you.”
“Oh…” she stared back at the moth-eaten canvas cloth on the floor. That made more sense now that she thought about it. Though that still left a lingering question.
“Oh heck, where’s the princess!?” She said, getting up and glancing around the room.
On cue little white and brown plumes of feathers popped out from behind the large grey griffons head. Black eyes sparkling in the red light glowing light.
“Hatchlings like to ride up top.” He said knowingly as the little princess chirped excitedly, flapping her tiny wings.
Golden shook the stars from her eyes and snatched the princess from the top of the strange Griffon. “Wait a minute, don’t think I forgot, I saw you put something in her drink.”
“Yes.” He said without hesitation.
“Ahah, not even going to deny it, conscience weighing heavy already?” She glared at him, “I don’t know where you get off dressing like a ghost and scaring ponies and trying to put poison in baby bottles!”
“Not poison, protein.” He said laconically.
“Call it whatever you want, you're going away for a long time!”
“It help her grow.” He said with a carefree smile on his face, “protein.” He said with a helpful nod.
“Protein, what’s that, some kind of Griffon word for poison, I ain’t falling for it buddy.” She watched as the Griffon moved back to the brown jar, took a claw and moved it into the dust, then put a trace of it into his beak.
“Pony food not enough for growing Griffon.” He nodded sagely. Golden watched him for a long moment, waiting for him to start frothing at the mouth and collapse. But instead he held the bottle out to her with a gentle smile.
She took it conspiratorially eyeing the contents. Nothing seemed to bubble ominously from the top and it didn’t smell any different from the regular milk they had used.
Maybe being around Princess Luna for so long was starting to make her paranoid.
“Okay, maybe it’s not poison,” she said slowly, “but I’m going to try it and make sure.” The Griffon seemed indifferent about the matter.
The milk tasted no different, warm from the magically heated bottle, a slightly earthy taste to it, which was probably this so-called protein. All in all it wasn’t actually that bad. Didn’t taste poisonous to Golden anyway.
“Very good yes?” He said with a nod, “I pick and grind fresh from soil.”
“What is it, some kind of plant?” She took another tiny sip, the taste was just strangely moreish.
“Earthworm.” He said smiling.
Golden's eyes bundled and she spat the contents out. Nearly throwing the bottle in the process. The grey Griffon snatched the bottle and the cub fearing Golden would fall again.
Golden gagged as she tried to scrap her tongue with a hoof. The Griffon shrugged and offered the milk back up towards the cub who sniffed it, then, eyes widening, made a grabbing lotion for the bottle.
He smiled, placing the nipple back into the bottle and watched as the cub latched into it sucking down the contents greedily.
“Fields above, why?” Golden wailed at life in general.
“Not to everyone’s taste.” The griffons said knowingly, “my bror Thorfin like crickets, but he always fussy.”
“Is it safe?” Golden asked, still a shade of green.
“Oh yes.” He said, “my dear mor would feed to me daily, high in protein, make strong, you do not feed your cub this no?” He asked.
“She’s not mine, she’s Princess Luna’s daughter.” Golden said, finally able to catch her breath. She offered out her hoof. The Griffon handed her back the cub, who let go of the bottle only to burp loudly before going back to it hungrily.
“Ahh, what is name of her?”
“Well…” That was a damn good question actually. Golden blinked for a moment, looking down at the Griffon who was now pecking at the bottle tip. “Her mother’s, um…a little picky with the names.” She probably couldn’t decide between rodent chaser or flea bag. “She’s not decided. But I’m thinking of calling her-”
She baulked as the Griffon put her claws over her lips. “Hey!” She protested, moving back, “watch it buddy, I don’t even know your name.”
“Winder.” he said casually, “Pony should not name cub, hatchlings imprint on mothers with names, is very bad luck to name her before mother does.”
“Oh,” Golden blinked, looking down at the cub again who was now swaying her tail happily, her eyelids growing heavy once again. There was so little she actually knew about griffons or their culture.
Slowly once the bottle was finished, she placed the little princess on her back. She seemed to sit nicely there. Her claws gripped the fur as she lay her little head on the base of her mane and slowly started to close her eyes.
“Is there a manual with you guys?” She said in a joking fashion.
“I do not think so.” He said looking down in thought, “every pride different.”
“Boy it would help, if you did have one then Bob's your uncle.” She said with a soft chuckle.
“My uncle is Gelert Sternclaw.” He said with a confused look.
“Um, No I just meant that it would be easier.” She said slowly.
“So I must write this book, to ease you all because Gelert Sternclaw is my uncle?”
Golden gave him a deadpan glare, “You’re… very literal aren’t you?”
“Sorry, I am not used to jokes and metaphors or pony sayings. I was how you say, born without a funny bone.”
Golden blinked, “luckily you, my whole body is a funny bone.” Golden said sardonically, “you are welcome to take some of mine.”
“Sadly it would not work,” he tapped his head, “it’s up here.” He tapped his head, “I can’t visualise humour. I think it was because both my parents were inventors.”
Golden stared at him for a long moment and then said. “Oh by the way, My name is Golden Brightnose Boffo Smile.”
“Greetings.” He said, extending his claw and showing not an ounce of a smile.
Okay so maybe he was telling the truth. She’d never met another creature who didn’t snigger at her unfortunate name.
She deflated slightly. “Yeah, lucky that’s me, Just call me Lucky Larry.”
“But I thought your name was-“ the words died on his beak as a flash of ethereal light made them both turn. Golden caught sight of what the cloth canvas had been covering, it was an enormous mirror, its surface radiating and rippling with magic.
She took a step backwards as it flashed blinding bright and then all of a sudden Golden was staring at a red stallion. One who was walking through an alleyway.
“What the heck?” Golden muttered to herself.
“Oh hey a bit!” The stallion in the mirror said, bending down. As he did so, a lead pipe missed his head by inches and hit the wall. The figure holding it, wearing a balaclava, staggered forwards.
“Four!” Another voice screamed somewhere in the distance. A golf ball went over the bent red stallion's head and hit the mugger square on the forehead. He went down like a sack of bricks.
“Wow, what a lucky find.” The red stallion said examining the coin and continued on completely oblivious to everything.
Golden blinked, then turned away from the mirror and towards Winder, “Who is that?”
“I guess, this is Lucky Larry.”
“What?” Golden said.
“Is magic mirror. Lord Snap Case’s prize possession, before he went mad.” He gestured towards the strange items dotted around the basement.
“If it was his most prized possession, why did he leave it down here?” Golden asked, gazing back towards the mirror.
“I do not question the mad.” Winder said sagely.
“So, what does the mirror do?”
“It shows your reflection.”
“No, not the mirror part, the magic mirror bit.”
“It finds things and shows them to you.” He shrugged
Golden bulked, “What, anything?”
“Within reason.” He said, “I had seen Snap Case use it once or twice, to find the great mysteries of the universe and his house keys.”
Golden gazed back at the mirror, “Can I…try it?”
Winder shrugged. “Not mine.”
“Um… okay then, magic mirror show me, Silver Tongue.”
The mirror flashed and then all of a sudden her uncle appeared. He was shuffling papers around a desk. In the background what looked like a large tentacle monster made of dirt, detritus and dust at least three stories tall roared and flung a maid from its back.
Its giant tentacles lashed around in the air as it demolished a wall. Another maid, this one with the cigar in its mouth, clawed his way from behind its head and shoved a bottle of what looked like bleach into its fanged maw.
“Hey dust.” He growled, throwing the cigar into the dust monster's mouth, “get busted!” and leaped off. There was a pause as orange balls of fire flowed inside of the monster's stomach, then the window exploded with grey slime.
Her uncle frowned at the ripples in his tea cup from the vibrations of the explosion, glanced around, shrugged, then went back to his papers.
Golden sat there mouth wide open, “It actually worked.”
“Indeed, I am surprised, I did not think bleach alone could explode.” Winder said curiously.
“Not that,” she said, “I mean the mirror, she turned back to it with a smile, “Um, okay, Princess Celestia.”
Again the mirror shifted in an unfathomable light of magic.
A large white Alicorn sat in her study. She placed another scroll against a mountain of others and sighed. Then after looking around for a moment, produced a bottle of wine and a large iron goblet.
She poured it into a glass and brought it to her lips.
“Princess Celestia, come quick something’s happened!” Someone screamed banging on her door.
Celestia spat out the contents of red wine all over her muzzle. She blinked several times then lowered her head onto the desk and started banging it against the wood.
“This is amazing.” Golden said slowly moving towards the mirror, small beads of lighting humming from its rippling surface which seemed to draw closer towards her hoof. Winder moved fast, slapping her hoof away.
“Ouch, what did you do that for?!” Golden yelled.
“Mirror is occult magic, ancient magic, if you touch, there would be no telling what will happen, might take you place, no telling where, or when even.”
“Oh…Right, that sounds bad.” She glanced again at the mirror. Above her the cub gave what sounded like a hummingbird’s snore (3). Golden glanced up at her then at the griffon.
“Could it…find her real patients?” Golden asked.
“If you know their names?” He said
“I…don’t.” She said with a sigh. Shaking her head, oh well it was worth a shot at least. “All I know is her um, what do you call it, pride name, Novabane, does that ring a bell?”
“I do not have a bell?” He answered.
The mirror flashed a brilliant shade of blue as lights danced off of Golden's features, it spun until it landed in the middle of a Forest. Golden leaned forwards squinting, which was probably what saved her life. She felt something skim her mane and wedge into the wall just above her.
It took her a moment to understand what she was looking at. As she stared at the long wooden stick vibrating, feathers coming out of the end.
Lucky for her, Winder seemed to know almost immediately, he grabbed her from behind and dragged her back behind the workbench.
Golden “What’s going-“ but didn’t get any further because for the second time that day she was staring at another mysterious figure coming down the basement.
Another one came after. This one huge, almost the size of princess Luna and as wide as Iron Hoof. The small one grabbed a hold of something the giants was holding and lowered it with effort.
It whispered harshly in a language she could barely hear or understand towards the hulking behemoth. Who muttered something back, although by my muttering, it was more like shouting but with a filter on.
She managed to unglue her gaze from the two figures and towards Winder who lifted a single talon from her mouth and moved it up towards his beak.
Golden didn’t have to ask what that gesture meant she already knew the answer.
There was more noise as the two figures seemed to search through the basement, knocking over the artefacts as they went.
The smaller one, took a step forward in their direction. Inching closer towards the cabinet that Golden and Winder were hiding, Golden held her breath, praying that this was not the moment her comedic curse would strike.
The shadowy figure peered in through the jars and Golden was sure it was looking right at her. But before it could lock eyes with her, a long haunting whistle permeated through the basement from somewhere outside.
Both of them moved together. They crept back up the stairs and out of view. Golden felt a pain in her chest. Realised she hadn’t been breathing in over a minute and exhaled.
“Who were they?” She asked, long after she heard their steps vanish off into the distance.
“Trouble.” Winder said solemnly.
“Thanks captain literal, I mean do you know them?”
The Griffon shook his head. “No, but they seemed to know her,” he said, pointing towards the sleeping lioness.
“How can you tell?”
Winder turned and looked at her solemnly, “They said the phrase, find the cub.”
“Oh,” Golden blinked, staring back towards the arrow embedded three inches into solid wood, one that had only been two inches from her face and muttered. “So much for a quiet vacation.”