Chapter Thirteen: That Which Lies Beneath
Constance and Muffins walked with their two new griffon friends down the staircase of the rookery. Manus walked in front, and kept a look out for other griffins, while Talos walked behind the two pegasi. Constance’s wings were still hurt, and she wouldn’t be able to fly until she got some sort of medical attention. Fortunately, Manus’s wife was a nurse, and once they visited the infirmary, they’d be able to get mares out of the rookery.
It wasn’t until they ran nearly head first into Ridgeline and Bard that they actually had seen another soul. Ridgeline snapped into action, and tackled Manus before Constance had a chance to explain. Bard disappeared in a puff of smoke, and reappeared behind Talos to pop a bag over his head. Manus Tried to throw the stallion off him before Constance started yelling.
“Hold it!” screamed Constance. The males stopped fighting for a moment to stare at the mare. “Ridgeline, will you please stop strangling Manus? He’s helping us.” Ridgeline dropped the griffin with an unceremonious thud. “And Bard, take that bag off Talos’s head.” The unicorn took the bag off the griffin with an apologetic smile. Talos looked annoyed, but unharmed. Bard thought he smelled licorice on the bird, but he must have been mistaken.
“These two nice griffins are letting us go,” said Muffins. “Mister Manus said that his little girls are my age and would love to play with a pegasus while their mommy fixes Miss Constance’s wings.” The pegasus bounced in place. “This is the best adventure ever!” Bard looked at Constance. She only smiled back at him.
“Well, sorry for all that,” said Bard. “You’re really helping her?” Manus adjusted his collar, and nodded.
“I can’t do this anymore,” said the griffin. “I’ve got a chick about her age, and if the situations were reversed, I’d hope that some pony would have enough kindness in their heart to let them go. I’ve had enough of Phantasm and his birdshit. There’s enough misery in this world without him…” he shuddered in disgust at the thought. Ridgeline only shook his head.
“Griffins killed my entire family,” said Ridgeline. “You destroyed everything I ever had, and because of what you did, I have become a monster.” He poked the griffin in the chest with a hoof. “I don’t like you. I don’t trust you. If you make even one false move, I’ll snap your neck like a twig.” Muffins backed away in fright from the copper coated stallion. “You may be friends with Muffins, but you will never be anything but the enemy to me. Let’s go.” Talos moved to the front of flock while the two stallions took up the rear. After a few minutes of walking, they came to the housing level where the infirmary was located, and slipped inside.
Bard looked out at Rookery. The inside of it was a sort of grand dome that housed hundreds of holes, each presumably leading to a living area for each griffin family. Many families had decorated their entrances with gems or bits of precious metals, and each one seemed to reflect the families personality. What struck Bard as odd was the fact that so many of the homes didn’t seem to have anything indicating that anyone lived there except a pile of molted feathers. Something about the whole affair was unsettling, and he couldn’t put his hoof on it. He walked inside the infirmary, to find Manus’s wife yelling at the griffon for bringing the pegasus prisoner down to her.
“You’re going to get us killed!” she shouted. “You seen what Phantasm does, how could you?” She began weeping. “You’re going to kill us all and for what? To help some pegasus?” Manus shook his feathered head, and pushed Muffins in front of his wife.
“Gladus, this is Muffins,” he said. The filly hugged the despondent griffiness.
“You’re really soft Miss Gladus!” she said, as she rubbed her head against the griffiness’s feathers. “You’re all feathery and fuzzy, just like mommy used to be.” She looked up with a smile. “You smell nice too. We can be friends!” Gladus looked down on the fuzzy filly for a moment, before scooping Muffins up in her arms.
“Oh my god,” she said. “You’re just the most adorable little bundle of happiness.” She turned back to Manus with a look of serious concern. “You’re right. We can’t do this anymore. I’ll get the girls and we’ll leave. We’ll go anywhere but here.” She looked over Constance. “But we have to get your wings fixed first. Come on; get in here before anyone sees you.”
No one had seen ponies enter the infirmary, just as no griffin had seen Heart Chase ascend to the top of the spire. She had to keep reminding herself that the shoes she wore were magic, and magic never failed. It never failed and left you to plummet a thousand feet into the ground where you might die on impact, or might just cripple you so that you lay there and suffer till some creature finds you and…
She shook the thoughts out of her head. She couldn’t even see the ground, so it didn’t matter. She came at last to a pair of trussed griffons who were struggling against a silk rope. Upon seeing Heart Chase walk up the clouds to their balcony, they tried to signal to her to let them go. Heart Chase only shook her head, and sauntered past them. At least she knew she was on the right path.
The entrance led to a massive dome that was covered in holes. It looked like an apartment complex of sorts. It actually made sense. Since griffins could fly, they could easily visit friends and family who lived just across the dome. It just seemed so… empty. There weren’t any griffins flying around the inside the dome, and that worried Heart Chase. Not that she knew much about griffins, but they seemed sociable, and the lack of griffins in their home was unsettling to say the least.
The bottom of the dome was a massive circular flat section, around hundred and fifty yards wide and chiseled perfectly smooth. There was a fifty foot cylinder of stone in the center of the dome. From where she was standing, it looked like it had been covered in blood. She stepped toward it, when she heard something odd. Heart Chase tapped on the floor with a hoof. It echoed back with the hollow thump of stone. The entire base of the rookery was hollow. How the hell was this thing being supported?
“Not important,” said Heart Chase to herself. “Gotta find those ponies and get goin’ outta here. Celestia only knows what nightmares are lurkin’ in a place like this.” She trotted across the courtyard for a while before finding another pair of trussed up griffons hanging from a peg. They looked more annoyed than injured, and Heart Chase smiled to hem as she passed. Behind them was the stairs, and Heart Chase happily ascended them.
Below, the shuffling of stone drew the attention of the two trussed griffins. They stopped struggling for a moment, and turned to the center of the dome. The riser had slid to the side, and from it crept inky black tentacles of smoke. The griffons looked to each other in panic as they struggled against their bonds. Hard as they fought, the remained bound as the black tendrils rose up around them. If their beaks hadn’t been bound, every creature in the dome would have heard their shrieks of agony as the smoke billowed around them.
…
Quill paced around his room in worry. If his brother and his sister in law had been traitors, then who else couldn’t be trusted? Could he trust the guards who were there to keep him safe? Or the workers in the mines? Could he trust Red Chase? As if to answer his question, there was a knock on his door. He slipped a bladed boot onto his hoof before answering; it was only Red Chase.
“I got your message,” she said. “And I came as fast as I could. What’s wrong?” Quill couldn’t think of a way to be polite about the subject. He took a deep breath, and spoke as plainly as he could.
“Where do your loyalties lie?” he asked. “If you care for me at all, you won’t lie to me. Just tell me, who do you want to win this war?” Red looked confused at the question, then noticed the blade adorning Quill’s fetlock. She backed away in fear.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. “You’re scaring me, Quill. Please tell me what’s wrong.”
“Answer the question,” said Quill. “Just please answer the question. Where do your loyalties lie?”
“They’re with Heart Chase,” she said. “They’ve always been to her and the family. I’m loyal to you because of how much we’ve grown together during these past few months. Why are you asking me this? Put down the blade so we can talk, Quill. Please.”
Quill looked at the bladed boot on his fetlock a moment before tossing it in the corner. He wrapped his arms around Red Chase with a relieved sigh. Red Chase only held her fiancée, and waited for an explanation. He let her go a minute later, and escorted her inside his room.
“Your Aunt Apple is a traitor,” he said at last.
“I know that,” said Red Chase. “We all are.”
“Not to Celestia,” said Quill. “To us. She and Silk had planned to have us killed at the wedding so they could take over with Glaive and the Lunar Rebels. Our own family, Red. How could they do this to us?” Red shook her head in disbelief. That couldn’t possibly be true.
“No,” she said. “I don’t believe it. That’s not something Aunt Apple would do at all. You’re lying. Why are you lying to me Quill? Why would you say things like that?” Quill passed the brass seal to Red Chase, along with a letter from Apple Chase. Red looked over the letter for a moment before she looked at the wax seal. It was a pick in front of a crescent moon.
She threw the letter to the ground amid the piles of ash that had gathered around Quill’s trash can. It was then that she noticed the smell of smoke, and the familiar scent of burnt paper. Quill only hung his head.
“I didn’t want to believe it either,” he said. “This pile of ash is what remains of my brother’s papers. I don’t want to remember him as a traitor, so everything burns. I’ve kept that last letter to show to those who need to know, but everything else is gone. I’m sorry I frightened you, my dear Red. I don’t feel like I can trust anypony anymore.”
Red put her arms around Quill, and held him for a long time. If it had been a simple play for power, everything could have been forgiven, but their own family had tried to kill them. With Silk buried and gone, that left Apple Chase alone with the pony that had started this all. Red stepped away from Quill, and looked into his big green eyes.
“You’re still loyal to me, right?” asked Red. Quill only kissed his fiancée in the moonlight. They could at least count on each other.
…
Iron Pick strode into the camp with his head held high, and his eyes narrowed in anger. A few ponies saw him, and recoiled in terror. A turquoise earth pony came from a tent, and upon seeing Iron Pick, tried to duck back into it. Iron Pick reached out with his magic, and grabbed the earth pony. The earth pony struggled against the telekinesis, as he hung in the air ahead of Iron Pick.
“Solider,” he growled. “Get me the commanding officer of this company before I remove your intestines.” He dropped the pony to the ground with an unceremonious thud. The pony scrambled to his feet and dashed across the camp site to another tent. Iron Pick looked around at the ponies who stared. He snapped at them and began screaming.
“What kind of bullshit operation do you think we’re running here?” bellowed Iron Pick. “Are you sleeping? Get the hell up! I want every last one of you lazy bastards on your feet! Now!”
The camp became a flutter of activity as the company of ponies fell into formation. Armor had been hastily donned, and ponies scrambled to find their positions in line. A line of donkeys had formed at the back, cowering at the pony issuing commands like an enraged lion. The commander was a white pegasus that strode bleary eyed from his tent with some floozy unicorn by his side. He scrabbled backward in terror at the sight of Glaive in full armor, and full anger.
“S-s-sir!” said the pegasus. “We weren’t expecting to see you till Canterlot!”
“Then you are a failure and a fool!” bellowed Iron Pick. “Ready your ponies for inspection; then I will see if you’re fit to even make it to Canterlot.” He looked to the row of cowering donkeys. They had been beaten, and fairly recently. By Iron Pick’s guess, they were the ones hauling the cart filled with the siege engines, which meant he could count on them to help bring the weapons to Canterlot to aid in its defense. It made him think to the family of equines he had met in the forest a few hours ago. Yet another unicorn enforcing his will on others. He could take the hint that perhaps he should reexamine his life if he ever made it back to Bridleburg.
After a hasty few minutes, the troops had assembled for inspection in three rows of twenty. Iron Pick marched down the lines a few times before tearing into the three officers with a verbal tirade that made enlisted men flush with panic. He proceeded to move down the ranks, and berate every single pony for some fault or another with their uniform, their attitude, their hygiene, whatever he could find. He spent a full hour berating sixty ponies, having dedicated exactly a minute to each and every one of them. By the time he was finished, the ponies looked as if they had been through a warzone.
“Now,” said Iron Pick at last. “Since you are the most useless bunch of ponies I have ever seen in my entire life, I give you a choice. I can hang half of you for running such a lousy operation, and let the rest of you watch as a reminder what happens to failure.” The ponies cringed at the thought. “Or, instead of wasting pony power, you can gather your worthless flanks and double time it north to rendezvous with the main force. I will take the siege engines there myself, so as not to taint them with your goddess damned failure!” He stared daggers into the herd. “I’m feeling generous. So you’ve got ten minutes to move out before I kill every last one of you.” The ponies exchanged looked for a moment. “I SAID MOVE!”
The ponies nearly tripped over each other to start breaking camp. Tents were hastily thrown down and gear collected in ramshackle piles as the ponies threw everything together to move out. In eight minutes the ponies were gone, leaving only fire rings and tent stakes. After another ten minutes, Iron Pick turned to the cowering donkeys.
“As for you lot,” said Iron Pick. “I’m not really Glaive. My name is Iron Pick, and that son of a bitch stole my body. I need to get to Canterlot with these siege weapons, and put them up in defense of the city. It’s going to be rough, and I apologize for that. But if you’re willing to serve Equestria for the next few days, I will guarantee your own land in Bridleburg. You don’t have to follow me, and you are free to go. I’ll burn whatever we can’t carry, but I need your help, and so does Equestria.” Iron Pick looked upon the donkeys who had stopped cowering for the time being.
“I realize that you’re suspicious of a unicorn, and with good reason,” said Iron Pick. “We have a habit of not keeping our promises, and forgetting what’s really important. But let me tell you, we are all equines here. Our country is not called Ponystan, it’s called Equestria. I realize it’s not perfect, but it’s a damn sight better than the Lunar Republic would be. So, I lay it at your hooves. Will you help me?”
Two of the donkeys looked to each other, and fled into the forests. The rest just stood there and consider the unicorn’s words. He was right; they had no reason to trust him. But there was something in his speech that made them believe in what he had to say. And he was right about the Lunar Republic; they would be slaves under Glaive’s rule. One of the donkeys stood and spoke for the group.
“We’ll follow you,” said the donkey. “But if you stab us in the back, Celestia help you, I will dedicate my soul to revenge.” Iron Pick nodded.
“And I would deserve it,” he replied. “Come my brothers; lend me a yoke. We’ve got to get to Canterlot.
…
Muffins and the two griffin chicks were playing hide and go seek in the back rooms of the infirmary. Each was a spitting image of their mother: fuzzy and feathery, with bright blue eyes and orange beaks. The children dashed around the halls of the clinic, and filled the rooms beyond with the echoes of carefree laughter. In the front room, Gladus applied a poultice to Constance’s wings. She winced as the griffon pulled a few damaged feathers.
She wasn’t in that bad of shape, and she’d probably be able to fly sometime tomorrow. Until then, they’d have to travel along the ground. When Bard explained how they’d gotten up the spire, she was even more impressed by Star Heart’s magic then she had been previously. That unicorn could apparently work wonders. When she asked about Heart Chase, she was only met with shrugs of indifference.
“She’s a traitor,” said Bard. “We can’t trust her to help us, and we can’t imagine that she’ll come to help us either.”
“Aren’t you a traitor too?” asked Ridgeline. “You were part of the Lunar Rebellion, weren’t you?” Bard fell silent in his admonishment of Heart Chase. The stallion had a point. Still, the prospect of stranding her in Hoofswell had crossed his mind. Bard may have been a traitor, but he had been on the losing side of that conflict, which made it sort of alright years later. Or at least, that’s what he told himself.
A thump and shuffle from the hall outside set the room on high alert. Gladus huddled the children in the back while Talos went out to investigate the noise. The griffin peered down the aisle of holes along the balcony of the dome. From the level above came the sound of metal on stone. Something heavy was headed for the prison levels.
“I think we should leave now,” said Talos. “If you ponies can cloud walk, there’s an exit one level below us. We should be okay, so long as whatever is up there doesn’t make a u-turn.”
The herd fluttered and shuffled out of the clinic and down the stairs to an open door. The ponies stared out into the dissipating fog bank for a moment. It seemed spongy, and not nearly as solid as it had on the journey here. Not only that, it was beginning to get dark. Bard cursed these short northern days, and the chill weather that was sapping the cloud’s density. The ponies moved out into the clouds, and immediately began to descend. The clouds just weren’t dense enough to hold the magic of the boots very well, and Bard cursed himself for leaving the fog stone running. It was probably depleted by now, and they’d have a hell of a time navigating to the bottom if they were sliding around like a foal on ice skates.
After about twenty seconds of sliding down, the clouds stopped supporting their weight entirely. The earth pony and unicorn dropped ten feet onto the bottom platforms of the dome. Constance glided to the bottom platform, and Muffins fluttered down to the herd with a grin.
“Silly,” she said. “That’s not how you cloud walk.”
As the griffins began to take flight, another noise, this one a shuffling and windy whisper, echoed from the level below the exit. Talos nodded to Manus. As the rest of the griffons left, Talos crept down the stairs to investigate the noise. He reached the platform for the next level, and glanced into the dome. Nothing there. He was about to head back up the stairs, when he felt the air inside the dome chill from balmy to icy. The griffin froze in place as the black tendrils closed in around his claws.
It was the blood curdling screams that alerted Heart Chase to the presence of someone else in the dome. She had made it to the empty detention levels, and was getting ready to turn around when the cries of anguish echoed through the dome. They weren’t the screams of a pony; they were something else entirely. She galloped down the stairs to investigate, praying that whoever was in pain wasn’t her friends.
The ponies had walked back inside the dome to avoid outside detection. The clouds were settling down into the valley, though they were about fifty feet of open air between them and the clouds. They’d have to wait for the griffons to lower them. The ponies heard the scream coming from the stairs, and immediately surrounded Muffins. Muffins hugged the leg of the pegasus as the sounds of a hundred pairs of beating wings filled the skies outside, and the sounds of hundreds of marching hooves echoed from the center of the dome.
From the center of the dome, tendrils of black smoke snaked from the massive hole in the floor. Hundreds of ponies, each darkened and emaciated as if they had been consumed by fire and resurrected, shuffled from the hole in the ground. A wisp of black smoke drifted in from the stairs to join the miasma of black fog that began to take shape upon the floor of the dome.
Before their eyes, the shape of a massive black griffin formed, and coalesced into being. His form was gaunt, skeletal almost, and his wings were a menagerie of multicolored feathers that had once belonged to pegasi. Across his chest were massive scars where feathers no longer grew, and adorning his flank were thousands of cuts that dripped with ichor. Plates of a familiar silver armor had fused with the griffon’s body along his arms and back like some macabre body modification. His voice was little more than a harsh breeze filtered through a fan, but it boomed and echoed through the dome as if delivered by a beast ten times his size.
“I am the Phantasm,” said the creature “I will come to Canterlot and take the sun, as I took the moon. All share fear, and all shall obey.”