The tunnel was far shorter than the last, bending harshly to the left after only a few dozen paces. While the hanging carpet of glowing lichens were a blessing for their sight – and their comfort – it was ultimately dual-edged, as the very same growths obscured everything more than a couple lengths in front of them.
As they rounded the bend, the blocky stone walls changed abruptly into smooth, rounded ones, braced by stout support beams driven deep into the earth; here, the ground raised up just enough to bring them out of the frigid water and back onto dry land. Racks peeked through the lichen, loaded heavily with the thick, cophite-banded piping of zephyr lines, with more still running out of micro-tunnels bored in the walls. Twilight paused to rear up and press an ear against one of them.
“Dead,” she said, falling back to all fours. “Not surprising, mind you.”
“Any stored mana would’ve long since been shuffled out of here,” Squirrel said, nudging her forwards. “Or just faded out altogether.”
“Yeah...” Twilight trailed off. She ducked her head low again, keeping it near enough the ground to see under the shroud of lichen, so it was that when Rainbow suddenly stopped, flicked her tail back at them and fell into a crouch, she could see what it was that alarmed her so.
Scant lengths ahead of them was a large, shelled creature lying against the wall, its long, crab-like limbs curled partially beneath it. At this distance it was unquestionably of the same species as the ones in the woods so many days ago.
Strangely, despite that it was both alive and hale – and certainly must’ve seen or heard them by now – it was seemingly ignoring them.
Rainbow scooched back to join them, crouched shoulder to shoulder in the narrow space. “What’s the plan?” she whispered, her eyes glued to the creature.
“Turn back?” Squirrel suggested. “Those legs look sharp.”
“Those legs are sharp,” Rainbow grimaced. “Any pipes around here? Or rocks?”
While the other two looked around for something to defend themselves with, Twilight was busy trying to place her hoof on just what it was that was bothering her about all this. It knows we’re here, she reasoned, ears folded back as she squinted towards it. I’m certain I saw it shuffle. It’s not running, or signaling, or...
“Hold up,” Twilight interrupted the other two. “The ones in the woods didn’t do anything to us until we got near that entrance, remember? Under the fallen tree?” They nodded while she continued muttering to herself, trying to marshal her thoughts. “It knows we’re here, but doesn’t seem to care. Maybe...” She trailed off again before taking a steadying breath and standing a bit straighter. “Hey!” she shouted. “Hello!”
Rainbow hissed in agitation, prodding her in the side; the creature, meanwhile, merely shuffled a little more in place to better stare at them – in as much as she could tell where its black-on-black eyes were looking at all – but otherwise doing nothing. “I don’t think it’s hostile,” Twilight said, quietly elated her hunch seemed to be correct. “Maybe they’re only aggressive near their nests?”
Another sharp jab at her side. “We’re in their nest!” Squirrel hissed back at her.
Of course we are. “So that’s not it, then... what’s going on?”
Rainbow took that moment to butt in front of Twilight, wings flared out protectively as she took a couple of tentative steps towards the creature. When she was barely a metre away the creature finally reacted, scooting back far faster than something that large should be able to move. Rainbow jumped in surprise, but held her position as she continued trying to stare down the thing.
Twilight poked her head around Rainbow’s wing to see that the creature had gone back to just lying there, watching. “Odd...”
Rainbow slowly relaxed, her wings coming back down. “Totally scared it,” she said primly. “But seriously, though – this is weird.”
“Do we... do we just walk past it, then?” Squirrel wondered aloud. “Because I can’t find anything to fight it with, and it’s not like it’s going to be any clearer backtracking.”
Twilight nodded slowly. “Probably our best bet, yes.” She waited a moment to see if Rainbow would object before continuing. “Slow and steady, then.”
As one, they crept forwards, keeping as far away as possible from the creature, their flanks brushing against the wall as they moved. The creature paid them little heed as they passed it by, not even turning to watch them go. Once it was a few paces behind, Twilight let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
“Hopefully the others are as calm as that one,” Squirrel muttered as they carried on down the tunnel, swiftly losing sight of the creature as they turned yet another corner.
Having stayed at the lead, Rainbow gave another flick of her tail and stopped dead. “Well, shoot.”
They’d arrived at a crossroads. The path ahead was dark and free of lichen. Left and right glowed still, but the rightmost path – the one the bulk of the pipes led into – opened almost immediately into a cavernous room. Countless rails zigzagged across the floor, while rows of minecarts and larger railbound equipment lay all about the place. Several more bulky brackets fed into the room from other directions, their pipes leading to myriad sets of canisters or boxy metal containers, all while winding through a maze of roots and detritus.
All the farthest end, shrouded in darkness, came the faint but unmistakable sounds of running water.
“I think this might be some sort of switching station,” Twilight said, staring out into the erratically-lit space. “Although this is a lot of equipment.”
“Must’ve been one heckuva mining operation,” Squirrel agreed. “Think our way back’s over there?”
“Maybe? I lost track of our direction back at the first room.”
“Nah, Squirrel’s right,” Rainbow said. “That should take us back, more-or-less.”
“Never doubt the pegasus, eh?”
Rainbow shrugged, fluffing out her wings. “Couldn’t tell you which way north is down here, but I’m not about to get lost that easily.”
They continued staring out into the abyssal room, none of them particularly eager to step forward. “Don’t know about sneaking past all of those, mind.” Littering the room were countless more of the crab-like creatures. Every time Twilight thought she’d plotted a path through, her eyes would refocus and she’d find yet another one camouflaged in with all the junk and lichen and still more vine-like roots.
“Getting across is going to be a problem.”
Rainbow grunted. “We’re going to need to grab a pry along the way, too.”
Twilight nodded, sighing grimly; despite the sheer amount of stuff scattered about the place, there looked to be surprisingly little in the way of long metal bars. “Could try to tear off some of the zephyr lines, if we need to? Should be safe with how long they’ve been dry.”
“Have to get to one first.”
“Yep.”
They’d been idling at the threshold for some time now, quietly planning as they observed the creatures. While some of them had seemed content to merely lounge – bar the occasional twitch – in whatever corner or nook they’d found, most of them were moving with near-constant purpose. Their sizes, too, varied considerably, with some small enough to fit in their hooves, whereas others were nearly up to their shoulders.
Of mixed worry and relief was that most were crawling along the ceiling, or scuttling along hanging bridges born of tangled roots; it was going to be intimidating walking beneath them, certainly, but at least their path forwards would technically be clear.
“Let’s just do this already,” Rainbow said, breaking the thoughtful silence. She rolled her shoulders, fidgeting with the lit shard around her neck. “Or go back or something – I hate waiting like this.”
The other two shared a glance before Twilight nodded. “Alright – I think we’ve planned this out as best we can, anyways.”
Rainbow’s wings itched. “Yeah, yeah – go slow, head to the wall, and be prepared to run. Fast.”
“That is the gist of it, yes.” They continued to hesitate at the threshold as the seconds ticked by.
“Sooo who goes first?” Squirrel asked, looking for all the world like she hoped it wasn’t her.
Rainbow snorted, gave her wings another tense flex and furl, and stepped forwards. She hunched her shoulders as she entered the first dark spot, devoid as it was of any lichen, lit only by the bobbing of her shard. The hurried clopping of hooves close behind made it clear the others had followed. “Keep close,” she whispered, kicking aside a pale chunk of shell.
“Then don’t kick things!” Squirrel hissed back to her.
“Oh, they can barely even hear us.” She was just guessing with that, but considering how noisy the creatures were being she suspected she was right; plus, it wasn’t as though that one in the tunnel had down anything, and they were right next to it!
“We don’t know that,” Squirrel insisted stubbornly. “And what about those ones in the forest?”
Something scarpered above their heads, its form lost in the gloom. “Shut it, girls,” Twilight said, sounding unusually serious.
Rainbow couldn’t remember the last time she’d sounded so severe. She gave her head a little shake before focusing once again on the path ahead, taking care to mind her hoofsteps.
She reached the first of the many tracks, carefully crossing it to lead the group between two rows of empty carts, aiming roughly for the closest of the walls. The plan had it that they’d try to find something as a pry along the way – loose rails or the like – but otherwise make for a cluster of sagging pipes running between a bank of ring-canisters; from there, they’d tear down one of the sections for use.
Rainbow was fairly certain you weren’t supposed to bang open zephyr lines all willy-nilly, but she trusted Twilight knew what she was talking about.
Her hoof touched down lightly in a puddle. The ground here was pitted and gouged, with numerous little cracks and channels running between patches of dirty water. The warm humidity of the area did little to lessen the unpleasantness of the muck splashing back at her.
Someone exhaled sharply behind her. “Blasted spiders,” Squirrel groaned, waving a leg around frantically. “I swear I just stepped in a whole nest of them.”
“Seriously?” Rainbow scowled.
“I can feel their webs on me!” A shiver ran through her. “I hate it.”
She was still flicking her hooves about when they passed back into the light, coming to a halt as they did. The line of carts had ended, leaving them facing a wide and far more open space. Shattered plates covered what looked like a pit running lengthways in front of them. “Maybe for maintenance?” Twilight muttered, looking up at the rails and hooks that ran above it. “To get beneath the self-powered equipment?”
Near as Rainbow could tell rails did run in and out of the trench, though its purpose hardly seemed relevant right now. “There’s probably a nest in there – we should find another way around.”
“No – it’ll be flooded,” Squirrel countered. “Everything else that’s even a couple inches deep is.”
“Yeah, but they might get aggro if it’s a nest,” Rainbow insisted, waving a hoof at the many creatures skittering about the space.
“Which it won’t be, because it’s flooded.”
Rainbow huffed, biting back her retort – there could be a nest under the plates, couldn’t there? “Boss?” she said instead, glancing back.
Twilight rolled her eyes, poking her in the side. “So far the creatures have been docile – whatever riled them up in the woods doesn’t seem to be the case, here. That said, I think we’re just about beyond the point of no return,” she added nervously.
Rainbow glanced back the way they’d come, but she needn’t, really – if things went pear-shaped, they were royally bucked. She flicked her tail at Squirrel. “Too late for grumbling,” she said, hoping to head off any.
Squirrel swatted away her tail. “No kidding.”
Beside her, Twilight sat down in a relatively dry spot, eyes closed as she breathed deep. Figuring they might be here a while, Rainbow took to trying to keep calm herself – she knew she was starting to twitch, but the urge to get out from under this blasted rock was weighing on her.
She found a broken slab a couple paces away, sat down, and started preening. It was utterly pointless down here, and her feathers had an unpleasant, oily taste to them to boot, but it always helped her think.
Admittedly, all it did was make her think about how annoyed she was that they were acting like they were about to get mauled to death – even Squirrel looked to be stretching for a fight.
It was barely a minute later, then, when Rainbow shot back up. “We doing this, then?” She sounded gruffer than she’d’ve liked, but there was nothing for it now.
“Yep,” Twilight exhaled, standing back up with a tired groan. “I’ve an idea for a few spells that could help if we wind up in trouble – keep near me if we do.”
“Sounds good. I’ll lead?” She had no problem in the least at being the first one in, but she didn’t want to muck up any of Twilight’s spells – whatever they were.
“Best if I’m in centre. You alright taking rear, Squirrel?”
The mare nodded, apparently not trusting herself to speak.
With one last roll of her neck, Rainbow led the way into the open space. The chattering of the creatures – and there must’ve been dozens moving about the place, through cracks, open ground, and all along the ceiling – didn’t change as Rainbow picked a circuitous route around the edges, looking to keep as far away from the pit as possible. The lichen-light here was sparse, doing little to illuminate things, and casting most everything as nothing more than dark shapes upon darker backgrounds; likewise her shard was so worn down by this point that it she wouldn’t’ve been surprised if it was lighting things no better than a candle.
There was a flutter of air about her hooves as something darted away into the distance. She paused, rolling her shoulders as she tried to not think about what she almost stepped on. It wasn’t until they’d gone over what must’ve been their fifth set of rails when something finally broke the tension.
A harsh, cracking sound came from the base of one of the root-towers near the pit. At the edge of the light she could see one of the creatures – a large one – banging its vicious-looking forelimbs on the stone.
“Back off,” Twilight’s voice whispered from behind her. “Slowly.”
Rainbow did just that, backtracking one step at a time, her side pressed against one of the many carts as she tried to keep as far away from it as she could. The thumping stopped as the creature faded away again.
“Okaaay,” Rainbow said. “Not that way?”
She felt a poke on her flank. Turning, she saw Squirrel very carefully rearing up to get a look over the wall of minecarts. “Might be able to go around through here,” Squirrel said, indicating a cart-lined path just behind them. “Can’t tell if it’s actually clear from here, but I can’t see anything big, at least.”
While not exactly a ringing endorsement, Rainbow didn’t much like the idea of trying to force their way through here. “Well, let’s go then,” she said, scootching past the other two to retake the lead. Ducking her head down the alley, she certainly agreed it looked clear.
She took a step between the carts, and then another. “Looks good,” she said over her withers. As they followed the rails she saw several more of the hoof-sized creatures, but compared to the larger ones they looked utterly harmless; nonetheless, she took care as she stepped over and around them.
It wasn’t until they’d passed into another lit section that they decided to stop again, this time looking to clamber over the carts to the next clear bit of rail and double back from there. It would mean getting closer to the ceiling – and exposing themselves to everything down here too – but there was no telling how long simply wandering between the lanes would take.
Rainbow reared up to try and peek over one of the carts. “Okay – I think Squirrel should go first this time.”
“What! Why? You’re the leader,” Squirrel said, looking mildly alarmed.
“Because you’re expendable – obviously.”
Twilight snorted. “Play nice, girls. I for one think she should go last – she’s more than tall enough to hop onto the cart by herself, so she can help me over first.”
As much as she wanted to bicker a bit before giving in, she was just feeling too tense to bother. “Alright,” she relented. “I’ll lead.”
She leapt up, balancing for a moment on the cart’s lip before stepping onto the damp, mucky ore within; her hooves barely sank in at all. “Cargo’s steady,” she said, carefully leaning over the far side to see what was in the shadows below.
Another clutch of hatched egg husks grew between the rails, with several of the baby creatures littering the ground. “We’ll need to jump down a little over this way,” she said, jerking her head closer towards the pit. After getting a couple nods in return, she jumped down, the creatures scattering as she landed. The path from here looked safe all the way back to the clearing, although it was hard to tell for sure.
As she waited for the other two to join her, she leaned in close to some of the lichen, glowing now so much brighter than it’d seemed earlier. “My pupils must be sooo big right now,” she muttered to herself; she couldn’t look directly at Squirrel’s shard without wincing, and she knew that thing must be beyond dim by this point.
There were a pair of heavy thumps behind her. “Let’s get going,” Twilight whispered, giving her a little nudge. Together, they continued into the darkness, being mindful of their steps as they did.
The ground and roots here were teeming with life – and not just of the creatures themselves, but beetles and spiders and more besides. Rainbow shivered as she felt them on her fur. “This is gross,” she groaned through gritted teeth, afraid some would get into her mouth as she pushed aside thin skeins of roots.
“It’s strange there’re so many of them, yes,” Twilight muttered from where she’d squished herself alongside Rainbow’s flank – effectively using her like a plow.
The path cleared up again as they neared the pit, although from the far side this time. They stopped at the threshold. “Which way are we going?” Squirrel asked, staring out into the maze of little paths feeding into the area.
“Well, the far wall’s right there.” With the way the rails were running, there was only a single long line of loaded carts between them and the rows of equipment boxes, ducting, and pipes. “We’re probably going to have to climb over to get to it.”
Rainbow looked around hopefully for some sort of pry. “Almost out, then.”
“Just need to follow the walls and rails down to the water afterwards.”
“And hope it takes us back out – yep.”
They were stalling again. “Welp,” Rainbow breathed out. “Let’s go.”
They crept along the perimeter, eyes peeled; they could make out several of the larger ones in the gloom, but were starting to feel a little more comfortable around them – provided the things weren’t acting skittish – and so found themselves weaving around them, just as though they were little more than root-towers.
They soon made it to the line of carts. Peeking over it, they saw the wall just a few metres away. “Right – we’ll want to get at that piping,” Twilight said as they worked their way over. “We need a section loose enough to tear off, but not so rusted it won’t be sturdy enough for the job.”
Jumping down on the other side, they found themselves in a narrow, equipment-strewn alley. While the pipes were far too high off the floor to reach, there were plenty of boxes and the like to climb onto.
The lichen here was sparse, forcing them to walk up the path to try and find what they were looking for; luckily for them, it only took a few minutes.
“Okay,” Twilight began, staring up at a loosely-hanging section some three metres long. “Squirrel’s the strongest of us – if you climb up, you should be able to wrench it off at the base. Rainbow – if you’re up there with her, you can keep her from tumbling off if the pipe gives way suddenly. I’ll stay down here, ready to dampen your fall with a touch of magic if you do.” Squirrel opened her mouth to say something, but Twilight cut her off. “And no, Squirrel, I can’t just rip it off telekinetically – I don’t want to risk there still being any residual mana-charge in there.”
As plans went, it sounded pretty good to Rainbow. She and Squirrel quickly clambered up onto the equipment – taking a moment to swat away all the webbing – before trying to get into a good position. Ultimately, Rainbow ended up bracing her back against the wall, one arm around Squirrel’s waist as the mare stood in front of her on the narrow, dented ledge. Above them hung the pipe.
There was a noisy creaking and grating as Squirrel tugged on the thick conduit, splashes of water pouring out of the end of it. Rainbow spluttered as some got on her tongue, the acrid tingle of concentrated mana making her shudder.
“Still got some charge to it,” she muttered, spitting out the zephyr.
“No kidding,” Squirrel groaned, getting the worst of it. With a final crunch the pipe bent and snapped at its base, falling to the ground with a crash. “You good, Sparks?” Squirrel asked, peering over her shoulder into the dark.
“I’m fine,” Twilight said. “Pipe looks solid, too – let’s get somewhere better lit and check it over.”
“Sounds good.” Squirrel and Rainbow quickly got back down and hung the awkward piece between them.
Rainbow led the way to a lighter part further down the path. “The things don’t seem to care,” she noted as they stepped under the lichen, she and Squirrel unceremoniously tossing the pipe down in the pool of light.
“Yes,” Twilight murmured, already lost in running a critical eye and hoof along the metal. “I suspect that whatever it is they eat, it isn’t ponies; the ones in the woods may’ve just been aggressive for other reasons – maybe they had predators that’d riled them up recently, or it was mating season or something.”
“Ugh,” Rainbow gagged, trying not to think just what exactly ‘mating season’ would constitute for the bizarre-looking creatures.
“Quite.” She gave the pipe a satisfied tap. “Should hold.”
Squirrel took that moment to heft up one end and try to bend it against the ground to no avail. “Yep! So, then – off to the sounds of water?”
“Mmhmm.” Left unspoken was the fact that they didn’t actually know that the sound came from the same tunnel they were canoeing in before. Just have to deal with that if it comes, Rainbow figured as she and Squirrel lifted the pipe back up. After some finagling they managed to set it across their withers such that Rainbow could still lead in front, the end of the pipe poking up past her shoulder.
“This would be so much more comfortable if I still had my packs,” she groused, the pipe sliding slightly with every step.
“Still have our jackets, at least.”
“Better than nothing,” Rainbow agreed.
The path curved slightly as they moved from light to shadow to light again. With the stone wall to their left, and a solid line of carts to their right, they felt pretty safe and secure as they followed the rails into the utterly dark, cavernous far end.
They slowed their pace as the lichen was lost behind them, leaving them with nothing to light their way but their dying shards.
Their hoofsteps echoed around them as the sound of running water grew. “There don’t seem to be many creatures around here,” Twilight noted, peering at the ground and into the dark. “I can barely hear any movement.”
“Maybe they like the plants?” Squirrel suggested. “Or the light? It looks pretty bare around here too. Not that I can see much, mind.”
Twilight nodded thoughtfully.
They continued on, what sounds there were of the chittering and chattering of the creatures soon fading entirely behind them. Rails seemed to veer off in odd directions, their metal glinting as they disappeared down side passages. Near as Rainbow could tell they were moving subtly downhill, and sure enough it wasn’t long until her hoof splashed down in icy water.
“This the main tunnel, you think?” she wondered, having to speak up over the growing sound of running water. “Would hate for it to just be a flooded side passage or something.”
“I think we’ll just have to hope it is,” Twilight said. “Does it at least run in the right direction?” They’d come up to a far more open area, the wall to their left turning sharply away from them. Flickers of light shone off into the distance. “Actually, hold on.” Her horn lit up, a swarm of little lights flooding the area.
“Well, it’s definitely a main tunnel,” Squirrel noted, peering left and right down the wide passage. Water burbled merrily over rails and rubble – it was shallow here. “Which way we going, Rainbow?”
“Left,” Rainbow answered without hesitation – she wasn’t that turned-around. “I think it’ll have to curve a bit to meet up with the canoe, though.”
“Might be why we can’t make out any shafts of sunlight.”
Rainbow nodded, grunting. “My legs are cold already – let’s get going.”
They started into the water, splashing their way upstream. Twilight kept her spell up, for which Rainbow found herself grateful – without the lichen here, they would’ve been looking at a long, dark walk otherwise.
The pipe slid off of Rainbow’s withers, leaving Squirrel cursing behind her. “Stumbled,” Squirrel muttered.
“We can spread out a bit more here.” They rebalanced the pipe and carried it abreast, Rainbow’s wings flaring out occasionally to nudge it back whenever it threatened to roll off.
The tunnel did indeed curve, slowly and steadily. Equipment littered the place, but barring that the way was clear. “This isn’t so bad,” Squirrel said.
Rainbow snorted. “It’s cold.”
“Well, yeah – but, besides that.”
“Sure, then – it’s not too bad, I guess; still looking forward to getting out of here.”
“Oh, definitely.”
The current noticeably picked up its pace as little whitecaps appeared out of the gloom. “Think that’s the rubble from earlier?” Rainbow wondered. “We’ve gone about the right distance.”
“Sounds likely, then,” Twilight agreed, relief evident in her voice. “Watch you don’t turn an ankle on any of this.”
Progress had been slow, to say the least. Minding their ankles had been one thing, but keeping the pipe on Rainbow and Squirrel’s withers was quite another. More than once Twilight had been tempted to just risk it and levitate the dang thing.
There was a hollow clang as the pipe fell down again with a clatter. Rainbow, having long since cursed herself out, merely grumbled as she fished the rod out back out of the gurgling waters and nimbly manoeuvred it onto her back.
With her lights still up, Twilight had taken the lead, scouting a course through the rubble – for even here the ceiling had partially collapsed. Her work was as often frustrating as fruitful, for not only did she need a route for one pony, she needed to find an accompanying path for a second – with how uneven the ground was, setting the pipe lengthwise along the other two’s withers was best saved as a last resort.
The only good thing about the rubble was that it really did mean they were almost back to the canoe.
There was a glimmer of light in the distance – there for a moment, then gone. “I think I saw some sunlight,” Twilight said, subconsciously dimming her lights to see it better. “Not far ahead.”
“Good,” Squirrel grunted. “But turn the lights back up, will you? If it’s there we’ll know soon enough, but for right now I can’t see where I’m putting my hooves.”
“Oh! Right,” Twilight blushed sheepishly. Her lights returned to their previous brilliance.
Soon, even with the glare all three of them could make out what were undeniably shafts of sunlight, slicing across the passage. “Sun’s still up, then” Squirrel noted, relieved. “Thank goodness.”
“Now we just need to pry the doors open, get to the river, and find somewhere to camp for the night,” Twilight said.
It felt like no time at all before the slumped silhouette of the canoe came into view, and little more again before they were standing in front of the very same doors from scant hours ago. “Right,” Twilight began after giving the doors a brief examine. “Let’s slide the pole through the gap. We can then scramble back over and pry it from the far side.”
“Not from here?” Squirrel asked.
“Don’t think we can get the leverage we need with all this junk around,” Twilight said, gesturing to their surroundings. “We’ll probably need to pull it a good ways to the side.” She stared up at the gap above the lintel, not looking forward to clambering up that again.
Rainbow noticed her look. “Same as before, then? I’ll get up there first and Squirrel’ll brace you second.”
“You mean ‘Squirrel’ll have her head smashed in,’ don’t you?” Squirrel groused. She wore a smile, though.
“Yeeeah, I’ll try not to?”
“Uh huh,” Squirrel said doubtfully.
In a flurry of movement, Rainbow chose that moment to hop and flutter her way up and over. “Push the pry through!” she called to them, landing with a splash on the far side.
Squirrel and Twilight hurried to do just that, feeding the pipe snuggly through the gap.
“Okay,” Squirrel said, taking a deep breath. “Let me get my packs back on before you crush my spine, alright?”
“I’m not that heavy!” Twilight squeaked indignantly as the other mare grabbed her panniers from the boulder they’d left them on earlier.
Squirrel snorted. “I’m lucky you’re as light as you are. Still dang rough when you dig your hooves in.” Grumbling done, she readied herself again next to the canoe; above, Rainbow’s head poked back out as she got ready herself.
They decided to try a different route this time, with Twilight scarpering up the braced canoe first, and Squirrel shoving at her hooves and flank after that, but all that meant was that Squirrel ended up having her face stepped on whenever Twilight’s hooves slipped. Eventually though, after much cursing, she managed to pull herself up.
“If this pry doesn’t work,” Squirrel groaned, rubbing at her muzzle, “we’re walking, okay? ‘Cause I’m not doing that again.”
“That makes two of us,” Twilight muttered as she shuffled aside to make room for the other mare; beside her, Rainbow ducked back down to ground level.
Once Squirrel was over, they both hurriedly clambered down the stack of junk. “Let’s get this clear,” Twilight said, indicating the pile. “Try not to break any of it, though – we’ll need it to get our packs from the far side if the pipe breaks.”
“Nah – I can fly over and pull them through if needed,” Rainbow countered as she hopped up onto one of the crates and started unceremoniously flinging stuff aside. “I just want this whole thing done with.”
Twilight couldn’t argue with that.
It wasn’t long before they’d manage to clear the doorway. “Well,” Squirrel said, setting aside her shard and jacket. “Let’s take a look at this.” They could see now that the doors had buckled at the base, the bottom half-foot or so bowing out towards them. “I reckon that once these things pop open, they’ll go flying.”
“We’ll want to keep our distance, yes,” Twilight nodded, hefting the far end of the pipe in her hooves. “No time like the present?”
“Definitely.”
With the pole wedged in, they all gathered at the far end. “Slow and steady, now,” Twilight cautioned as they leaned into the pipe. The wooden door – rotten on the outside – crushed easily at first before resisting them. There was an ominous creaking as they pushed harder, the doors bending only slightly. The pipe flexed beneath their hooves.
“Hold up,” Squirrel cautioned. “I think the pipe might be breaking.”
She and Twilight paused in their efforts. “No,” Rainbow said, not relaxing as she still leaned into the pipe. “I mean, maybe, but if it breaks, so what? It’s not like we can somehow strengthen it right now before pushing harder, right? So let’s just keep at it; if it breaks, it breaks.”
“I guess...” Nevertheless, they all three resumed pushing, the metal noticeably bending in their grip as they slowly walked it towards the wall. The door started to splinter and groan before, with a mighty snap, it slammed open in a spray of water and gravel. The pipe rebounded, flying out of their hooves as they fell into a tumult on the floor. Twilight quickly scrambled away from the door, but only a few small rocks tumbled in after them. The doors themselves lay broken, wedged again into the uneven ground.
Beside her, Squirrel stood back up with a groan. “Well,” she said, briskly shaking the water off of her. “That worked, I suppose.”
“Yep.” There was now more than enough room to get the canoe through. She crossed through, the others in tow, as she sought out her panniers. Beside her, Rainbow tossed her dead shard into her satchel.
“You still got a spare somewhere, Squirrel?”
“Yeah,” Squirrel said, rooting around in her own. “Should’ve brought it along with us, eh? Or that paint I picked up just to mark passages.”
Rainbow shrugged. “Meh – worked out anyways; plus, we built, like, what – one cairn?”
“It was a good idea,” Twilight said as she settled her gear back comfortably into place. “We just didn’t expect to get un-lost so quickly.”
“No complaining here.”
Once they all had their gear strapped on, they heaved up the canoe and carefully brought it through the door; the ceiling was too low to carry it over their heads, so they were instead forced to slowly walk it forwards between them.
The sunlight bleeding down the corridor and into the room was bright and warm. As they stepped out of the mine and into the afternoon light, a fresh breeze played across their faces, setting manes and tails afly. “Finally,” Twilight sighed – from here, it should be nothing but smooth sailing to Hurricanum.
“This way,” Rainbow said with a smile, pointing a wing some ways down the scree. “There’s a decent path to the river from there.”
“Just a few more hours until camp, eh?” Squirrel asked as they hefted the canoe overhead.
“Yeah – a little downriver.”
Twilight grinned. “And back to town by tomorrow!”