//------------------------------// // Chapter 4 // Story: Archives of the Friendquisition // by Inquisipony Stallius //------------------------------// Chapter 4 Back near the entrance, Caballus had not left, but rather was investigating the rest of the warehouse alone, away from Tier’s attention. Stack after stack and crate upon crate turned up nothing, just litter and pet food. He scoured the aisles, looking for something, anything to connect the Rogue Trader to the Children or the Cheat-worm sale. But all the supplies were frustratingly mundane. Beginning to fear he might be missed, Caballus was about to turn back empty-hoofed. But as he did, he inadvertently kicked something. There, all alone on the floor, lay a single apple. A crisp, red, shiny, perfect-looking apple. His mouth watered. They’d been so busy investigating all morning that he’d skipped lunch, something he was suddenly reminded of by an insistent growl. And if Tier had just left this single apple lying around, surely he wouldn’t… No, he though, something wasn’t right. Caballus was never one to think with his stomach. He tore his hungry gaze from the apple, and tried to find where it had come from. Scanning the floor, the Inquisipony noticed what looked like hoof prints, where somepony had recently disturbed the thin layer of dust by passing through. The trail led to a rack fixed on the wall, empty but for one pet leash hanging on it. Going with his instincts, Caballus pulled on the leash. With the click of some heavy mechanism, the wall behind it swung away to reveal a hidden door. “Now we’re getting somewhere,” he mumbled to himself with a smile. Beyond the door was another large room. The air was musty and stale, holding an odor that took some effort to ignore. Along the walls were several large vats, each as wide around as a small swimming pool, and taller than two ponies. Seeing nopony else around, Caballus climbed the stairs that jutted from the nearest vat to peek over its rim. It was filled with apples, all of them just as ripe and delicious as the one he had found outside. A pang of hunger struck him, almost like a real blow to his gut. He wanted one, so very badly. Just one, out of the whole pile, couldn’t possibly be missed, could it? But even as he reached out, Caballus was again struck by a pervading sense of wrongness. Pulling back, the words of his mentor came to mind. Discipline and self-control, Banehoof often told him, are the armor of the soul. It was advice that had served him well on long and difficult missions before, and he wasn’t about to do something stupid for mere food. The Inquisipony got down, still needing much of his willpower to do so, and picked another vat. He silently hoped this one didn’t contain any more of the tempting fruit. Even with discipline, a pony could only take so much, after all. But there was only one way to find out, so he lifted his face over the edge. The stench was overpowering, nearly throwing him off the platform. The space reeked of spoiled meat and decaying plant matter. When he had finished coughing, Caballus held his hoof over his nose to look inside again. The whole surface rippled and undulated with the wriggling mass of Cheat-worms it contained. It was horrifying. And it was beautiful. Caballus stood transfixed by the sight, unwilling to continue looking, but unable to look away. The unsettling feeling grew the longer he stared, making him feel faint and sick to his stomach in a way that had nothing to do with their abominable stink. All the apples had been contaminated, infested. How could he have failed to realize that before? “Admiring my little ones, are we?” The sound of another voice was enough to break whatever hold the writhing mass had on Caballus, and he expected to see Tier catching him in the act. But instead, it was somepony else entirely. The voice’s owner was a pale green pony, a sickly and emaciated thing. His skin drooped and hung over his visible skeleton, and the pallid coat was spotted with lesions, sores and patches of mange. Whatever mane he might have had before had long since fallen out, as if left a ruin by some terrible war with the army of fleas and flies that yet remained. But this newcomer’s most prominent feature was a shiny, dripping layer of mucus issuing from his warty nose. He snorted repeatedly, in what seemed a constant but pointless struggle to keep it in. Caballus balked as he realized the full extent of this new pony’s repugnance. His stomach wretched again, bringing him to his knees on the verge of vomiting. In all his years as an Inquisipony, he had fought heretics of every stripe, degenerates given to any number of dark powers or unseemly corruptions. But none had ever been like this. “I often come here just to watch them dance. The same spell that makes their apples irresistible doesn’t wear off once they hatch, you know. It’s still quite mesmerizing, isn’t it?” the pony rambled in his stuffy, nasal voice, as if unaware of the effect his presence was having on his guest. “But where are my manners?” The prospect that this pony might approach Caballus to introduce himself threw the Inquisipony into a momentary panic. “Stay back!” he groaned, shakily getting back to his feet. “This whole place is… is… an affront to The Princess. And I’m shutting it down.” The other pony frowned, a mildly perplexed and disappointed expression crossing his milky eyes. “Oh, you must be the Inquisipony. Are you sure you want to do that? We could be such good friends instead. My name is Sniffles.” He smiled and took a few steps forward, extending his hoof. Caballus recoiled from it. “I said stay back, you filthy monster! You’re clearly involved with this illegal and heretical operation, and as much as I’d like to put you down right here,” he said, drawing a pie from beneath his overcoat, “I have to bring you in to be questioned.” “So you don’t want to be friends?” Sniffles pouted, but then shrugged. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. Closed-minded Equestrians, so quick to judge.” “Yes, it will be quick to judge you guilty of heresy, I can already tell. Then I can burn this whole accursed place clean of your taint and find out who’s truly responsible.” Sniffles’ mood darkened. “Nopony threatens my babies,” he said. Caballus heard a loud fwoosh! coming from behind him, and he instinctively ducked. A searing gout of fire passed just inches over his head, singing his hat to a crisp. Then, just as suddenly, there was a piercing screech. Across the warehouse—after just finishing a lengthy, mostly one-sided discussion about the differences between dragons and the drakes and wyverns on display—Tier, Mystic and Roughshod all took notice. “Vogel?” Tier’s eyes darted back and forth in the direction of the screech, his sales pitch instantly abandoned. “That was probably just the sound of our cover being blown,” Roughshod replied. Before Tier could realize what was meant by that, the larger pony tackled him against a row of shelves. “As a duly appointed Throne Agent, I’m placing you under arrest.” He gave Tier an extra shove for emphasis. “So just sit tight and don’t do anything stupid.” Tier went pale. “Th-Throne A-Agent? Zen z-zat means…” “Indeed,” said Mystic, “Friendquisition. And as soon as the Inquisipony returns-” Before she could finish the threat, Feuervogel came arching over the crates and slammed into Roughshod. Had he not been holding the phoenix’s master at the time, he probably would have been incinerated by the enraged bird. Even so, the intensity of the heat sent him to the ground, rolling in pain. Mystic rushed to his side. Finding his footing, Tier took off toward the front entrance. He galloped from cage to cage, flinging open the latches on every one he passed to cover his escape. “Gah! Forget me,” Roughshod yelled when Mystic tried helping him to his feet. “Don’t let that scumbag get away!” The unicorn nodded, but as she made to pursue, her path was barred by Feuervogel. Every flap of its wings seemed to fan its own magical flames, turning the passageway into an impassible inferno. Horn glowing, Mystic narrowed her eyes. Several nearby pens and cages had water bowls and bottles for their occupants, and these began to levitate and swirl in the air above her. One by one, she flung them at the phoenix. Feuervogel dodged this way and that, unable to get any closer to the ponies. But every swoop he made to avoid the water ignited whatever he passed over. In a matter of moments, half the room was ablaze, and the other half soon to follow. All of the released animals were now running wild in panic, adding to the pandemonium. One of the thrown water bowls did manage to douse the phoenix, and his feathers guttered and sizzled. The bird shrieked and searched the room frantically for his master, until he realized Tier had already fled. With a mighty flap of his wings, Feuervogel took off like a rocket through the skylight, leaving a pillar of flame and smoke in his wake. By now, Roughshod was back on his feet, and the two were trying to navigate their way out the burning building. Several times they were nearly trampled by some of the larger creatures, or crushed by falling crates and burning debris. The thick, black smoke began to obscure their vision and fill their lungs. “We’ve got to get our flanks out of here before this whole place collapses!” Roughshod yelled over the roaring flames. Mystic looked around. “But what about Caballus? And all these animals?” “I’m sure the boss is fine. And all these critters are tainted anyway. Let ‘em burn.” “No, I won’t leave them. They’re still living creatures, and besides, they’re evidence.” Mystic pointed her horn toward a nearby wall. With a grunt of exertion and an incandescent flash, the barrier was blown open by a shock-wave of concussive force, creating a large, obvious exit. The blast also rattled everything in their immediate area. Some shelves beside them gave way and in an instant Roughshod was buried under a pile of kibbles, cans of cat food and bird seed. “Shod!” Mystic cried. “Hang on; I’m going to get you out of there!” The unicorn dug at the mound for all she was worth, but she could barely even breathe, and there had to be nearly a ton of animal feed on top of him. She’d never be able to get him out in time. As if to illustrate her fears, a burning rafter swung down, almost crushing her as well. She had to think of something, fast. There was one thing she could do, she realized. But it was risky. “Roughshod? If you can hear me, brace yourself!” The unicorn took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Her horn glowed and hummed with power. An unearthly wind whipped up around her and the air crackled as it saturated with magic. Sweat beaded on Mystic’s face. She groaned and gritted her teeth. It was a simple thing to make something explode. Many inexperienced unicorns trying to perform their first spells often had the results—quite literally—blow up in their faces. It was the “not exploding” part that took time to master. But something about it was just so natural to Mystic. She had been able to detonate small objects with a mere thought since she was a little filly. This was different, though. She couldn’t be careless, couldn’t simply throw the magic around like a toy. She had to concentrate. One mistake, one second too early or late, one inch to one side or the other, and she was just as likely to vaporize the friend she was trying to save as the massive weight crushing him. With a silent prayer to The Princess, Mystic aimed her spell. Her vision blurred as the energy drained from her and gathered at the tip of her horn. First her legs, then her whole body, began trembling with fatigue. Her head started to spin, and she thought she heard voices on the edge of her hearing, whispering to her. Finally she released it. A jagged arc of green lightning impacted the pile of dried pet food. The blast shattered the cages and glass display pens in the pet store, freeing the remaining animals. It splintered every box in a five meter radius. And it flung Mystic’s limp body through the air. Her world went white, and then there was nothing. The first thing Mystic became aware of was the painful throbbing in her head. It took her a moment to realize that the fact she had a headache meant she was awake. She attempted opening her bleary eyes, only to be blinded by the light directly above her. Covering her eyes with a hoof, she tried sitting up. “Easy there, kiddo. Just lie back. That was quite a stunt you pulled. Took a lot out of you.” “Rough… Roughshod? Is that you?” “Well it damn sure ain’t the Governor-Mayor,” the brown pony laughed. Mystic laughed weakly too, until it hurt in her chest a little too much. Once her eyes adjusted, she looked around, recognizing the interior compartment of Her Solar Majesty. She was on her simple cot back on board the airship. “And you’re… alright?” She was hesitant to ask, lest he confirm the terrible damage she imagined she caused him with her spell. Roughshod laughed again. “Oh, I’m a little crispy, but that’s from the fire, not you. No, that little trick of yours seemed to work like a charm.” He took her hoof in his. “You got me out in one piece, kiddo. Thanks.” “What about Caballus?” she asked. “Right here, Mystic.” The Inquisipony appeared next to Roughshod, smiling. “I even got to see that ‘little trick’ when I came looking for you two. Very impressive.” “What… what happened?” “I found the Cheat-worm breeding vats in Tier’s warehouse,” the Inquisipony explained. “That and I met a rather unsavory heretic guarding it, too. The phoenix discovered me, tried to torch me but missed, and left to warn Tier about you two. Then, from the sound of it, he set the place on fire.” Mystic felt a pang of guilt. “It was my fault. I just started throwing things at him, and… and… I blew out the wall and… it was all my fault” Roughshod placed a reassuring hoof on her shoulder. “No, it wasn’t, Sweet Pea. That crazy bird was trying to destroy the evidence. He would have done it anyway. And you stopped him.” “Evidence? You mean the animals? What happened to them? Are they all right?” “Almost all of them were rounded up by the fire department. A few of the larger ones couldn’t be contained until the Ordo Zoonos arrived, but it seems all of them have since been accounted for.” Roughshod grinned. “There were enough freaks and mutants poached from the Everfree to get Tier put away for at least a few lifetimes. That is, if we can catch him.” “So he got away?” “Yes,” Came Caballus’s blunt reply, “he did, and his accomplice as well. The responders were too busy fighting the fire and catching animals to search for him. But we think we know where he’s going. After he left the scene, Tier was spotted at Hippopolis Central Station. He’s fleeing, so he’s probably going to ground somewhere he’s operated out of before, somewhere far away from strong Equestrian authority. And there’s only one place like that you can still reach by train, and where you can also catch wild Jackalope like the ones he had…” The train came to its stop at a dusty station, the end of its line. The sun beat down unrelentingly on the wooden platform, and the air was stiflingly hot. The platform itself was old and worn, suffering from years of abuse and neglect, and fairly indicative of the town it serviced, as well as the welcome any newcomers were likely to receive there. The brakes finally released with a pneumatic hiss, and the metal doors parted. Tier was tossed unceremoniously through them onto the ground. Behind him, Sniffles also disembarked, shambling off the train. “Ah, my esteemed associate, Mister Ver Kaufer,” said the pony at whose feet Tier had landed. “I’m guessing something went wrong?” Tier moaned and looked up through a swollen black eye. “It-it was ze Friendquisition! Zey tricked me, und… und zey attacked me und my animals. It was dreadful!” “It most assuredly was,” the pony replied, a hint of mocking in his voice. “And I’m to assume the Inquisipony is on his way here right now?” Sniffles nodded. A smile cracked the pony’s lips, revealing a mouth bristling with fangs. “Then we’ll have to prepare a surprise for him. Oh, I do so love planning surprises,” he said, already walking away. “You can do whatever you like with this one, Sniffles. I’ve no further use for him.” Then he paused, looking back. “And Tier? Welcome back to Applemattox.”