Chapter 12
Ponyville had a normal day the following morning. Ponies went about their usual business and did their everyday pony things. Everything was dull and ordinary, following a routine so closely, it was almost like clockwork.
Trace stood on top of a house beside the market street, learning the ponies' schedules, looking for abnormalities. He'd taken the day off from watching Pipsqueak in favor of learning more about the town. Resting his head on his crossed forelegs, the assassin lay on the warm roof and inspected every pony individually.
One pegasus mare stood out. She had a green pelt and a cyan mane with ice blue eyes; normal coloring for an Equestrian. What made her stand out so much was how nervous she acted. She was either up to something, or something or someone was after her; Trace knew the signs well. This wasn't normal anxiety, this was somepony trying to avoid contact with somepony else.
Trace focused on her and watched her as she went about her business and pretended nothing was wrong. She stopped at a couple stalls, bought some vegetables, and then left. Trace flittered from roof to roof, never taking his gaze off of her. At the same time, she seemed to become increasingly uneasy.
She ducked into an alleyway and hid behind a dumpster for a moment before leaving. Trace landed beside it and looked where she hid. The vegetables she'd purchased were laying on the ground. Trace climbed the wall and waited for somepony to come take the vegetables away, but nopony came. He continued to wait, taking note of the mare he saw in case this thing with the vegetables proved to be a dead end, so that he could observe her later and find out where she went and what she did after leaving her cargo behind.
After a couple hours, he checked the pile again. The only thing that claimed the vegetables was a swarm of tiny insects. Trace grimaced and turned to fly away. This was a new mystery, one that he would solve in due time. For now, he needed to meet Pipsqueak and go with him to Pinkie Pie's party.
Boring... Boring... Boring... Trace droned on in his head. Pinkie and Pipsqueak were making cheerful conversation with their 'imaginary' friends; Pinkie with Madame Le Flour, and Pipsqueak with Trace. However, Trace was standing on the ceiling, trying to keep his distance from Pinkie in case she decided she wanted to pretend she was touching him.
"Would Trace like another biscuit?" Pinkie asked.
Trace reached down and tapped Pipsqueak twice on the shoulder.
"Yes, he would," Pipsqueak answered.
Trace believed Pip would have said yes anyway, but Pip requested that Trace at least signal him yes or no from time to time so he wouldn't be playing without him.
The assassin's eyes started to flutter from boredom. This was a new form of torture. He'd always imagined that if he were ever captured by ponies, they may try using pain or forceful magic to extract information from him. He never guessed they would be so cruel as to make him watch a tea party.
Pipsqueak felt several nudges on his shoulder. "What is it?" he whispered.
"How much longer is this?" Trace asked.
"Just until we run out of tea," Pip assured his friend.
Trace looked at the tea set and frowned. "There's no tea. There never was any tea."
"We have to pretend it's all run out," Pip explained.
"So then pretend," Trace said sternly, "I have things to do."
Pipsqueak pouted at his invisible friend.
Trace grimaced and looked away. "Five more minutes, and then I'm leaving."
"OK."
"What'cha two talking about?" Pinkie Pie asked and then giggled, "You're good at doing voices, Pip. It almost sounded like you really had somepony there, but that's silly because nopony is there."
Pipsqueak jumped slightly and shifted his eyes around. "Uh, yeah, um... Trace just wanted to ask for some more sugar."
"Okie dokie lokie!" Pinkie took a spoon from an empty sugar bowl and pretended to add sugar to Trace's empty teacup.
The assassin muffled a sigh and sat quietly in the corner.
Having finally freed himself of Pinkie Pie's torture chamber, Trace sent Pipsqueak home and told him he'd be back later that night, and that he just needed to check something out. The little colt agreed and happily scurried off to meet his parents and tell them of the fun time he just had.
Trace, meanwhile, began his search for the mare he'd seen earlier that morning. The image of her was still clear in his mind, and he wanted to find out where she lived while it was fresh.
He silently stalked through the streets, weaving past the ponies who were oblivious to his presence. Being invisible all the time was becoming tiresome, and he wanted nothing more than to return to his tree, shed his cloak, and get a good night's rest.
But that would have to wait. He found his target happily chatting with several other mares near a well. As soon as he focused on her, her body seemed to tense up.
The pegasus' ears swiveled around, and her demeanor changed from cheerful to nervous. Suspicions arose in Trace immediately, and he started to move in closer.
"Uh, I have to go now, girls," she hastily said, "I'll see you all tomorrow."
Her friends bade her farewell and went their separate ways.
As Trace followed the mare home, she showed even more signs of fear. Trace could now smell her fear, and allowed himself a taste.
Fear, unlike love, did not need to be directed at a changeling for them to draw from it. But instead of drawing off the life force of the pony, the fear drew forth a negative energy. Most changelings found it disgusting, but to Trace, it was intoxicating.
He allowed himself just enough to get the high he was looking for, but took no more in case he should become impaired. If he allowed himself to become drunk with fear, he might drop his cloak and become visible to the world. That was not a risk he could afford to take.
Upon reaching her home, the pegasus was frantic. She slammed the door shut and locked it tight. Trace grinned to himself and slinked around the house. His suspicions had been confirmed, and now he was going to have some fun with this impostor; there was no way she'd be able to reveal him without revealing herself in the process.
He climbed up the outside wall and, making sure nopony could see, used his magic to unlock her window. Climbing in slowly, he silently made his way down the stairs where he found the panicked mare closing her window shades. He smirked directly at her, and she looked in his direction. Her eyes were wide with unrestricted shock.
"W-who's there?!" she shouted.
Trace stood still and remained silent, then focused on the spot beside her.
She looked confused and started scanning for her unseen observer.
Trace went down to the bottom of the stairs and stood right behind the mare, then looked at the back of her head.
She spun around and lost her breath. "Where are you?" Her fear was almost tangible now.
Unable to resist any longer, Trace revealed himself to her. "Boo."
The pegasus reeled back and fell flat on her flanks. "Y-you're... you're a--"
"Oh, drop the act, we both know what you are," said Trace, "Nopony could sense me watching them just like that."
The mare gulped and was engulfed in bright green flames. When they went away, a changeling sat where the pony once was. "Alright. You found me. But, why would you scare me like that?"
Trace's smile disappeared, and he glared death at her. "Cut the shit, hive pawn, and tell me where the pony you're posing as is hidden."
The other changeling shook her head. "I haven't hidden anypony. Why would you care, anyway? And... what's wrong with your eyes?"
The assassin's grin returned halfway. "So, you don't know about me, eh?" He began to circle her. "You never heard of the queen's master assassin?"
The changeling would have turned white if her chitin allowed it. "W-what do you want with me?"
"Tell me the truth," Trace said tersely, "and I won't bring your head back to the queen on a stick. Where is the pony you're posing as?"
"F-Fillydelphia," the changeling whimpered, "It's the truth, I swear it! I got this body from out of town. I've been living here for almost a year now. I swear in the name of Chrysalis!"
"So then, if I killed you now, and your original was still in Fillydelphia, nopony would miss her. They'd just think you were her and you moved back home."
The changeling scooted back. "Please, don't kill me! I've done nothing to betray the swarm! My loyalty is to the queen!"
"That's the problem," Trace hissed, "Your queen cares nothing for you! Your loyalties belong to an empty shell."
"Why would you say that?"
Trace glanced to the side. "Try asking her what she had done to her master assassin after he'd outlived his usefulness to her." He paused. "I won't kill you now; you may be of some use to me in the future. But know this:" He brought his face up against hers. "If you do anything to betray me, so help me, I will hang you by your entrails in the town square for everypony to see. Do. Not. Test. Me."
The changeling gulped again and nodded hastily. "I get the point."
"Good." Trace stepped back and turned invisible. "Remember, from now on, you belong to me. I will be watching you."
The changeling waited and listened. She raised a hoof and felt in front of her, but came into contact with nothing.
She was alone again.