Chapter 9
Hunter let out a yawn as he walked into the mess hall, covering his mouth with one hoof and then plucking his hat from his head to fan himself as he looked around the semi-empty hall. As early as the Dusk Guard ate the place was hardly ever occupied when they were around, and this morning was no exception. A few members of the Night Guard were sitting at one table, most of them without their armor; having either an early or a late dinner, Hunter wasn’t really sure. A lone member of the Royal Guard was sitting in full gear at another table—a sergeant from his insignia—no meal in front of him but a hot beverage of some kind in his hooves and a newspaper spread across the table in front of him. Probably a member of the second division.
Hunter placed his hat back on his head, relaxing under the comforting feel of the Stetson sliding down around his ears. He gave his head a quick shake to settle his mane—it was almost time to have it cut again—and then wandered in. His eyes caught sight of the few Dusk Guard who’d beaten him to the hall, sitting together at a far table.
“Busy morning for you folks?” the unicorn mare behind the food line asked as he approached. Her horn was glowing as she juggled several trays of hot food, sliding them into the enchanted heating bays that would keep them warm for the morning. A single lock of light purple mane was sticking out from under her hairnet, hanging across her forehead.
“Not more than usual,” Hunter said, nodding in thanks as she slid an empty tray towards him with a wave of her horn. He added a few plates to it. “Just an average workout. Why?”
“That purple unicorn on your team, Nebula or something,” the mare said, dropping two of the trays into their bays with a sharp metal on metal clack. “He’s usually not breathing so hard when he shows up.”
“Oh, that,” Hunter said, rolling his eyes and letting out a light chuckle. “No, we had the usual this morning. Complete with his mouthing off and earning a few extra miles for the team, which is part of the usual. He might just have made it ‘more usual’ today.” He grabbed a ladle handle in his teeth, flipping it upwards and depositing a heavy spoonful of fried oats on his plate.
“Oh, I gotcha,” the mare said with a laugh as she gathered up the bay covers in a vibrant green glow. “That happen that often?”
Hunter chuckled, grabbing several apples and rolling them onto his tray with a quick tap of his hoof. “Often enough that the Captain doesn’t even have to tell Nova what to do anymore. Kid makes his comments, and then runs the extra mile without anyone telling him.”
“Sounds like he’s just buying insubordination,” the mare said with a smile. The bay covers gathered around her, floating in her telekinetic grip.
“At this point, I think you’re right,” Hunter said, sliding his loaded tray onto his back. “Anyway, have a nice morning.”
“You too, hon,” she said with a smile, trotting off towards the kitchens, bay covers and empty trays floating along behind her. Hunter tipped his hat at her retreating form and then made for the table where the three Dusk Guard ponies were sitting in an animated conversation.
“So it’s more of a way of life?” Hunter heard Nova ask as he walked up to the table. The purple unicorn seemed to be involved in an animated discussion. “I mean, it kind of sounds like that,” he said, a small spoonful of oatmeal floated up hovered in the air in front of him, waiting for him to finish speaking. “Although I can’t say I agree with all of it.”
“Vizuri,” Sabra said as Nova took his bite of oatmeal in mouth, going quiet. “It is a method of living, but also a set of ideals, although by no means kamili.” The zebra spun flicked his wrist, balancing a green apple on edge of his hoof and then using his other hoof the set the apple spinning. Sky Bolt was sitting next to him, leaning slightly in his direction and showing every sign of hanging on his words.
“But that is why we embrace and learn from all types of knowledge,” Sabra said, rolling his hoof as the apple continued to spin. His eyes however, remained locked on Nova as the apple rolled with his hoof, never slowing. “There were many scholars at my monasteri that subscribed to the idea of the ren, but there were others who instead believed in the Tao, or the path.”
“I don’t think I have the head for that kind of stuff,” Nova said, giving head a shake. “Life’s tricky enough without worrying about some ideal constants to live up to.” He looked up and nodded as Hunter slid his tray onto the table and sat down next to him.
"Well, you say that,” Sky Bolt said, speaking up for the first time since Hunter had been listening, her eyes bright. “But if you think about it we already subscribe to our own philosophical ideals here in Equestria.”
“We do?” Nova asked, looking at the pegasus in confusion. “Like what?”
Hunter chuckled. “What do you think the whole idea of harmony is, Nova? Those Elements of Harmony that we hear about so often? Loyalty, honesty, kindness, generosity?” Sabra nodded in agreement at his words, and Hunter took a bite of his own fried oats, relishing the thick crunch as he bit down.
“Lieutenant Hunter is correct,” the zebra said, flicking his hoof and sending his apple into the air, catching it on his other hoof with apparent ease. “The guiding principles that Equestria was founded on are indeed a common philosophy of your nation. They are one of the reasons that I journeyed here in the first place.”
“But ...” Nova said, looking at the group. “Not everypony actually lives those. I mean, I’m a prime example of that.”
“And neither does everypony on Neighpon follow the paths of the Tao, even if the nation does as a whole,” Sabra said. He gave the apple one final flick, launching it into the air past his muzzle. His teeth snapped. As the apple landed on his other hoof, a flash of white could be seen among the spinning green.
“Eh,” Nova said, giving his hoof a dismissive wave. “I think I’ll stick with trying to figure out one method of thought. Friendship is hard enough.” The unicorn took another bite of his oatmeal, his eyes following the spinning apple. “Not to change the topic or anything,” he said after a moment. “But you would have made a pretty good thief. Maybe not as good as me, but pretty good.” Sabra cocked one eyebrow and Nova grinned. “That is, until you had to climb a rope.”
“Yeah, he can’t dance either,” Sky Bolt said with a laugh.
“Really?” Nova said, his spoon dropping into his bowl, forgotten. Hunter smirked as the unicorn sat up. “How’d you find that out?”
“I took him to The Four-hoof Clover last night,” Sky Bolt said, her own spoon tapping the tray with a faint clack. “We’ve got an open invitation there since we took out that golem.” She grinned at Sabra and the zebra’s cheeks flushed slightly, making Hunter chuckle. For that kind of reaction, he realized, Sabra truly had to be pretty bad.
“Ponyfeathers,” Nova said, leaning back in dismay. “Wish I’d thought of doing that last night. Instead I just practiced all evening.”
“Better that you did,” Hunter said, picking up one of his own apples in his hoof. He wouldn’t be able to put on a show like Sabra while he ate it, but that was fine. “Steel wants you up at full combat potential today when we’re on display.”
“Yeah, I know,” Nova said, rolling his eyes. “It’d be nice to go to the Clover though. I haven’t been in years. Not since I ...” his voice trailed off into an unintelligible mumble and he turned his head down, taking renewed interest in his breakfast.
“I’m sorry,” Sky Bolt said, cupping one hoof to her ear and tilting her head. “I didn’t quite catch that. What was it?”
Nova sighed, rolling his head to one side. “Not since I robbed Vinyl Scratch, alright?” Hunter narrowly avoided spitting a mouthful of apple across the table as he choked back a laugh. Sky Bolt, meanwhile, let out an uproarious laugh, bashing a hoof against the rough wooden tabletop.
“You robbed—?” Sky Bolt started to say, only to have her mouth snap shut in a yellow glow.
“Keep it down, ok?” Nova said, looking over his shoulders at the rest of the mess hall. Hunter took a casual look, but little had changed since he’d sat down. The majority of the ponies were still where he’d seen them earlier, and only the Royal Guard sergeant had even reacted to the laughter, although he was already looking back down towards his paper. “I don’t exactly want that getting out, alright?”
“Fine, fine,” Sky Bolt said as Nova released his hold on her muzzle. She stretched her jaw, wiggling it from side to side. “But now you owe me, because she asked about you.”
“She did?” Nova asked. Hunter looked up in surprise at Sky Bolt’s words. “Did she say why?” Nova asked, his voice somewhat hesitant.
Sky Bolt shrugged. “She didn’t say. Probably just wanted to meet the unicorn who busted up her gig.”
“Nice going, Nova,” Hunter said, tapping the unicorn with his elbow and giving him a smirk. “One real mission and you’ve already got the mares asking for you.”
“Oh laugh it up,” Nova groused, turning his attention back to his meal. Hunter turned back to his meal as well, and for a few moments the table was silent save for the sounds of everypony eating.
The door to the mess hall swung open with a bang and Hunter glanced over his shoulder to see Dawn walk in. He took another bite of his oats as she trotted across the hall, and a few moments later she walked up next to Sky Bolt, a tray piled with apples held in the dull orange glow of her magic.
“Mind if I sit here?” she asked. Hunter shrugged, the rest of the table giving her similar gestures, and she sat down, flipping her tail out to one side. Her tray slid down in front of her, and she began to levitate her breakfast; apples floating up one at a time in front of her and separating into thin slices as she deftly cut them with her magic.
“Is that a newspaper?” Hunter asked, spotting the telltale grey and black print poking out of Dawn’s saddlebag. “Can I take a look at it?” Dawn nodded but said nothing, the paper sliding out of her bags with an orange glow and floating across the table. “Thanks,” he said, taking the paper in his hooves and unfolding it. He bit into another mouthful of oats and took a look at the day's headlines.
“Anything interesting?” Dawn asked, her cultured Manehatten tinge cutting through the silence. Hunter took in the front page for a few seconds more, finishing his mouthful of oats.
“Define ‘interesting,’” he said after a moment. The front page was devoted to several articles, one chronicling Princess Luna’s tour of the city's parks and greens, another a retrospective on the aftereffects of the Changeling invasion. A quick skim didn’t show any telling connections to the Dusk Guard, although the article quickly terminated, promising the rest of its length to be found on page seven. Worth a glance maybe.
“Probably not,” he said as he glanced at the last article on the front page, which seemed to chronicle a back-and-forth battle between rival restaurants in the downtown district, each trying to one up one another in a competition of fine dining. Hunter suspected the only real losers of that challenge would be anypony of the public who was trying to stay in shape while the contest was going on.
A brief bolded blurb in the lower corner of the page caught his eye, and he raised one eyebrow as he read it. “Looks like Diamond Dog activity is on the rise in the Badlands and the Macintosh Hills. Two whole extra tribes have moved into the area, and apparently the Buffalo are taking exception to them.”
“That qualifies,” Dawn said from behind the spread of his paper. “Any chance we’ll become involved?”
Hunter shook his head, although she could probably only see his hat. “Doesn’t sound like it. Just a warning from the Rangers to keep out of the area for a few weeks while the Buffalo settle the dispute their way.”
“They probably have it well in hoof then,” Dawn said. Hunter nodded. Diamond Dogs were a constant occurrence in the southern reaches of Equestria, small tribes of them sometimes daring to move so far north as to reach the Everfree forest. The tribal species had never had a homeland to call their own, at least, none that anypony had ever heard about. They tended to move from place to place, living a nomadic existence much like the Buffalo, but without the sense of tact. Most nations considered them an annoyance, but permitted them to live on the outskirts or even engage in trade as long as they didn’t overstep their bounds which, Hunter knew from experience, happened quite often. Just over a year earlier a Ranger task force had been called in to drive a small cadre of Diamond Dogs out of Rambling Rock Ridge quarry east of Ponyville.
Done with the front page, Hunter flipped the paper open. Nothing out of the ordinary on the first few pages. Some letters to the editor, several of which still pertained to the ERS thefts, although none quite as virulent as they had been merely a few days before. Maybe word was starting to spread about the thefts being put on hold. He’d just turned the page again, revealing a massive drawing of the airship The Alicorn sailing through a clouded sky—apparently the ship was due to return to Canterlot from its maiden voyage the next morning—when Nova spoke up.
“So,” Nova said, his voice relaxed. “What’s everypony up to after breakfast?”
“Practice,” Sabra said, his response confined to a single word.
“In the new armor?” Nova asked, and Hunter swiveled one ear to listen in a bit better.
“Ndiyo,” Sabra said. It’d taken Hunter a few exposures to the word to realize that it meant “yes.”
“Sweet,” Nova said. There was a tapping sound, what Hunter assumed was a spoon being scraped rapidly against the bottom of one of the mess hall bowls. “What about you?”
“As much as I’d like to get a chance to play in armor like Sabra,” came Sky Bolt’s voice. “I’m going to be supervising the inflation of The Hummingbird’s envelope with liftgas. She’ll be ready to soar before the day is over!”
“Very nice,” Dawn said. “Where will you be inflating it?”
“Inside the workshop,” Sky Bolt said with pride in her voice. “When we rebuilt it I raised the ceiling, it’ll double as a hanger from now on. The roof opens right up with a little pneumatic pressure.”
“Pneumatic?” Hunter heard Sabra ask as he flipped the page, exposing the health section, which seemed dominated by a series of pieces touting the “Princess Diet.” He flipped the page again. Pretending he was lifting the sun or the moon while working out didn’t seem that appealing to him.
“Air-powered,” Sky Bolt explained to Sabra from behind the paper.
“How about you, Dawn?” Nova asked.
“I too shall be training,” Dawn said. “Sabra is helping me improve my unarmed combat capabilities.” There was a brief pause. “And what of yourself?”
“I’ll be hitting up the obstacle course in my new armor,” Nova said, an energetic edge to his voice. “I’m pretty anxious to see how I do with the armor, especially after these last few weeks of exercise. I don’t think I’ve ever been this in-shape.”
“Well, just remember to be at the Day Court a half-hour before noon, in full dress,” Hunter said, mumbling the words with a faint absence as he began flipping pages. Where is that financial section? he wondered. There’s bound to be something on the ERS sale.
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be there,” Hunter ignored the colt's sarcasm as the paper fell open on the business section at last. Then his eyes widened in surprise, his jaw falling slack and wings springing out behind him.
“Holy Horsefeathers,” he said, spreading the paper flat on the table. “Look at this!” The rest of the table looked at him in surprise, and then down at the two-page spread sitting before them.
“Golden Spike Nearly Loses All in Badlands Investments!” the title proclaimed in bold letters below a picture of a surly and furious looking Golden Spike shouting at the camera. The subtext added in a slightly smaller font “Well-Known Venture Capitalist Nearly Bankrupted by Bad Bets!”
“Early this morning,” Hunter read while the rest of the team looked on, “Golden Spike, well-known owner and aggressive investor in several major Equestrian business holdings, announced to a shocked public that his most recent business expenditure, what was thought to be a low-risk investment in a mining start-up, has collapsed in what analysts are calling one of the largest business failures of the last decade.”
“Mimo Mining,” Hunter read on, “a company into which Golden Spike had pored considerable funds, announced to a shocked and angry board of investors last night that despite the considerable amount of funds given to them, they had been unable to make good on their promise to excavate any profitable sum of metal from the recently opened southern reaches of Equestria, despite promising core drilling samplings taken in the area.”
“Numerous investors are calling for an investigation into the collapse of Mimo Mining,” Hunter said, summarizing the article as he skimmed it, “and a spokespony from Sunny SouthEast Mining Corp, one of the largest rival corps with eyes on the area, has declared that the information has come to them as a shock, as their own investigations into that area of the Badlands had postulated it as an area of immense mineral wealth.”
He paused as he looked over the rest of the article, and then spoke again, summarizing the rest of the page. “It says that ‘despite the vast holdings still employed by Golden Spike, the loss of such a large portion of his liquid funds throws any future business dealings into doubt for the foreseeable future, including his outspoken plans to acquire a majority share of the Equestrian Railway Service in a deal that was to be brokered today at noon.’ Well shoot!” Hunter leaned back from the table, ripping his hat from his head and tossing it down on top of the paper with thump. “There goes my only real suspect.”
“That’s a tough break,” Nova said, nodding as he examined the angry looking picture of Golden. “I kind of had him pegged as our guy too, after the way I saw him acting at the dinner.”
Hunter shook his head, and picked up his hat again, giving it a gentle shake before placing it back on his head. “I shouldn’t be too quick to make that call,” he said, his momentary surge of anger gone. “It may just have been a miscalculation on his part. Who’s to say?” He gave a sigh and shook his head. “Still,” he said, gazing down at Golden’s picture. “This does put a little doubt on the theory. If he’d been planning on grabbing ERS with a scheme like this, he wouldn’t have made such a crazy investment.”
“Perhaps,” Sabra said, tapping the picture with his hoof. “Or perhaps he is simply so full of greed that his ambition has blinded him.”
“He didn’t quite seem that ambitious when I saw him at the dinner,” Dawn said, and Hunter nodded in agreement.
“Yeah, I’m with Dawn on that one,” he said. “He’s ambitious, but not that ambitious, not from what I saw.” He looked back down at his breakfast and then back up at the rest of the team. “That about does it for breakfast though,” he said, rising to his hooves. “I’d best go look into this.” He picked up his tray in his teeth, setting it on his back with practiced ease, and then looked at Dawn. “You mind if I keep this?” he asked, tapping the paper, and the pink unicorn shook her head.
“It’s all yours,” she said, floating an apple slice into her mouth. “Hope it helps.”
“Me too,” Hunter said as he picked the paper up in his mouth and trotted towards the door, sliding his tray into a waiting receptacle. “Me too.”
* * *
The light was on in Steel’s office, Hunter noted as he entered the barracks, meaning that the captain was probably having breakfast on the run again. Hunter gave his head a small shake as he trotted across the common room floor, paper firmly gripped under one wing. Discovering the golem had been one thing, but once the announcement about the ERS sale had hit, Steel had been downright ... well, jumpy wasn’t quite the right word for it, but on edge certainly worked. The insistence that everypony on the team be ready for full deployment by this morning was proof of that. Not that the situation didn’t sit well with Hunter, he could feel a sense of unease gnawing away at his insides. But the captain had taken that sense in full.
The receiving box outside Hunter’s own office was once again occupied, although as with every passing day before it the stack of papers was smaller than it had been. He took the packet in his teeth, shutting the box lid and pushed the door to his office open, hitting the lights with one wing as he entered. The packet felt even lighter today, and he wasn’t quite certain how he felt about it. On the one hoof, the information that was being delivered to him was being pared down, better sorted and identified as information that he would actually need. On the other hoof however, some of the stack's growing thinness had to do with the rapidly dwindling supply of leads.
“Well, time to see what they’ve drummed up for me today,” Hunter said dryly, dropping both the newspaper and the packet onto his paper covered desk. He’d cleared it the night before, but a few stacks of relevant information were still sitting out for quick access. A quick pull and the packets contents added themselves to the pile, a small stack of papers that couldn’t have been more than fifteen or twenty sheets thick bound with a single ribbon.
Hunter undid the ribbon and tossed it aside. The first sheet was nothing more than a summary from the Night Guard officer who’d put the packet together, summarizing the rest of the contents of the package. Hunter grimaced as he looked over the short, two item list. An examination of Golden Spike’s whereabouts on select days of the last few months, and a requested travel log of those same days.
He spread the sheets out with his hooves, looking down at the dates and comparing them. It was, unfortunately enough, just as he’d expected. On almost every single one of the dates when payments had been made on the warehouses in accordance with the rail schedule, Golden Spike had quite publicly been elsewhere, even out of the country.
“Well, it was a bit of a stretch,” Hunter mumbled to himself as he turned his attention to the other stack of paper. It was a travel log from the ERS offices, emblazoned with their own seal, detailing the passenger manifests on trains traveling to cities where warehouse payments had been made from cities where warehouse payments had been made. Names that showed up more than once had been highlighted, but as he pored over the list it quickly became clear that no single name was going to appear more than two or three times.
“Well, that about tears it,” Hunter said, sitting back in his chair in disgust and grabbing his guitar with one hoof. “Nothing, nothing, nothing!” He began to strum idly at the guitar, chords flowing from the strings. Hunter sat in silence for a moment, listening to the strings of the guitar as their music reverberated around the small office. Nothing.
Well, now what? he asked himself as his hoof continued to strum the guitar. I can track down anypony on that list who shows up more than once or twice and talk to them, but I doubt I’d get zip for my efforts. He shook his head. The odds of something as unique as the golem ring being, well, an actual ring of ponies was pretty slim. If there were ponies in on it in every city, then it wouldn’t make sense for the operation to be set up the way it was. Unless of course, that was the idea ...
He shook his head again, his long mane brushing against his shoulders. Maybe I can get that cut today, he thought, craning his head and eyeing the long straw-colored mane as it hung over his back. Then go see if Thistle wants to do anything. Maybe fly over to Ponyville and visit Derpy. After this mess with the ERS sale is over I could use a break anyway. He let out another sigh. It all seemed to come back to the ERS sale.
He sat forward again, intent on going over the list of passengers again to look for a pattern, but stopped as a small piece of paper caught his eye. He frowned, setting the guitar to one side. It was the note he’d gotten from Blade the night before.
“I thought I put that away,” he said, dragging the note across the desk with one hoof. He opened the top drawer of his desk, the one he’d reserved for personal items. Maybe I can go see Blade today too, he thought as he slid the note towards the open drawer. Catch up with her since she’s been so busy travel—
He stopped, the faint zip of the note sliding across the wood ceasing as he looked down at it, frowning. What was it the note had said? “I’ve been all over Equestria since I started working for these two. he read. Baltimare, Canterlot, Los Pegasus, Tall Tale … even Vanhoover!”
An idea was bubbling up in his mind now. His eyes darted up to an earlier portion of the note. “... they’ve got this sick custom railcar since they’re in charge of the R&D department for the railway.” he read. “They can just attach it to any train they want whenever they want,”
Wordlessly, Hunter slid the note back up across the desk, open drawer forgotten. His other hoof moved out and pulled the passenger manifest, the one detailing each and every train he’d asked the railroad to check in sequence, and slid it up next to the note from Blade. His eyes darted from sheet to sheet. Baltimare—Baltimare. Canterlot—Canterlot. Next on the list of warehouse payments was Los Pegasus. And there it was in Blade's note.
“Crikey,” Hunter said, the word slipping out of his mouth as he sat back. It wasn’t possible, was it? His mind darted back to the conversation he’d had with Captain Armor and Steel a few days earlier.
“Mint and Radiant, from what I remember, are both quite shrewd themselves.” The Captain had said. “I wouldn’t put it past them to be holding a grudge towards him.”
“But would they go so far as to sabotage their own company?” Hunter mused. “All that would do is put Golden up for buying ...” his words trailed off as he looked at the open paper he’d dropped to the desk, Golden’s angry visage staring up at him. “Unless he’s bankrupt.” His mind darted back to something that Mint had said at the dinner.
“I don’t think it’s good for him.” Those had been her words, speaking of Golden's constant investment in new business holdings.
“Could she have known?” Hunter asked, and then shook his head. No, it was a little too far-fetched, wasn’t it? He frowned as his eyes darted between the list and the note. Sure, it was convenient, but it didn’t mean anything. Destabilizing their own company wouldn’t do much, as Steel and Captain Armor had pointed out, unless they would have known that Mimo Mining was going to fail. Or perhaps they were just waiting until Golden overextended himself?
Hunter shook his head and stood. It would be easy enough to check. All he’d need to do would be to fly down to the ERS offices and have them check to see when the two sisters' rail car had been traveling. Surely the office would keep records of that.
His eyes darted to the clock. Almost ten already? He frowned as he looked back down at the papers. Flying down to the ERS offices wouldn’t take more than ten minutes. But actually digging up any records--assuming they existed--could take a while. He looked up at the clock again. And then if the records lined up, well then what? Go take up Blade on her offer of looking at the car? Either way, if he was supposed to be on guard at eleven-thirty ... he could send another guard to check, but if it turned out that the sisters were behind it all as some sort of ploy, well, there would be a chance that by the time they found out, the Princesses would have sold away everything already.
Hunter climbed to his hooves and grabbed his saddlebags from their hook near the door. The paper with the passenger manifests slid inside, followed by Blade’s note. He left the light to his room on as he trotted out the door, turning and heading up the stairs to Steel’s office. He gave the door three curt knocks, and then entered without waiting for permission.
The office was empty. Hunter ground his hoof against the doorframe and then took wing, flying towards the hallway that led past the crew quarters. A quick check of the armory showed that Steel’s locker was open, his armor gone. The training field then.
A quick flight out the door later brought him over the training fields, and he could see Steel down below, sparring with several Guard, all of whom seemed to be getting the shorter end of the experience. Steel was already a mountain of a pony, and clad in his new, dark olive-green armor the pony was an intimidating sight.
“Hey, Boss!” Hunter called, tucking his wings and putting himself into a dive. Steel looked up at him and then raised one hoof towards the guards, calling the exercise to a halt. Hunter spread his wings at the last second, coming to a quick halt just above the ground.
“What is it?” Steel asked, his expression terse.
“I need to you take over for me at the ERS signing today,” Hunter said, his tone as serious as he could make it. “I just got a possible lead on the golems and I need to check it out now.”
“Now?” Steel asked in surprise. “It can’t wait until later?”
“If I’m right,” Hunter said, giving his head a quick shake. “Then waiting until later will be too late. I need to check this now.” He waved the nearby Guard back, and they complied, most of them breathing heavily now that their sparring had stopped. No sense in starting rumors.
Steel nodded. “Very well, I’ll cover for you. Anything else I should know?”
“Keep a close eye on Mint and Radiant when they show up for the signing.” Hunter said, dropping his voice so that the nearby Guards wouldn’t be able to make it out.
“Mint and Radiant?” the boss said, tilting his head slightly. “But they—”
“Appear to have been in every city that we’ve had golems in,” Hunter said. “In the exact same order. I’m just going now to check to see how the dates line up.
“But that doesn’t make sense,” Steel said. “Golden’s signing into controlling shares of the company. Why would they help him?”
“Who’s next up to option the shares if Golden can’t purchase them?” Hunter asked. Steel had been the one who’d looked into that.
“Well, Mint and Radiant,” Steel said. “But that won’t happen—”
“Unless Golden Spike suffers a massive financial collapse,” Hunter said, pulling the paper from his saddlebags. “Like he did last night.”
“Oh Tartarus,” Steel said, his body stiffening as he saw the headline. “Alright, go,” he said, force entering his voice. “See what you can find, and get back here with any proof. I’ll have the rest of the Guard on alert for anything out of the ordinary. Any idea what their game might be?”
Hunter shook his head. “I’m still not convinced there is one. It’s pretty far-fetched.”
“That doesn’t matter,” Steel said. “Something about this whole scenario has felt off from the beginning. Go do your checking, and get back here as quick as you can. Dismissed.”
“You got it, boss,” Hunter said, snapping a quick salute and snapping his wings down. He spun into the air, twisting as he headed in the direction of Canterlot's railyard. He didn’t want to find out that he was right.
But something in his gut made him quicken his pace.
* * *
“There she is, right over there,” the station worker said, pointing with one hoof. Hunter gave him a hurried nod of thanks as he bolted in the direction indicated. He could make out the golden colored tail of the stationmaster and general manager of the Canterlot ERS station up ahead as it ducked around one of the train cars. Hunter increased his speed, using his wings to keep his body airborne longer than it would have been between strides to make up for the treacherous footing of the switchyard.
He came around the rear of the same car that the manager had ducked around and almost plowed into her. Goldenrod let out a shriek of surprise, jumping back into one of the rail workers accompanying her. A clipboard fell to the ground as one of the workers lost their grip on it.
“Lieutenant Hunter?” Goldenrod managed to stammer, recovering quickly from her shock. “Can I help you?” Her tone was terse, the unspoken message “later” hanging between them.
“Yes, you can. Right now,” Hunter said. “I need to see if you have any records of what cars are attached to what engines on a few specific dates, and your plotheaded excuse for a records manager won’t let me in without your approval.” He could hear beating hoofsteps on the gravel behind him now. That would be the unicorn in charge of records, a stubborn mare who’d nearly made him mad enough to kick the door to the records department in himself.
“I see,” Goldenrod say, giving him an eye that probably meant she was trying to decide exactly how much trouble he was going to be. “And it can’t wait a half hour?”
“With all due respect ma’am, I was this close to just kicking the records door in myself and finding it anyway,” Hunter said as the overweight mare who’d rebuffed him at records slid around the corner, breathing heavily as she came to a stop. “If needed, I'll get an official warrant. But I need to see that information as quickly as possible, if you don’t mind, so I really don't have time for that.”
“It concerns the thefts?” Goldenrod asked, her expression still calm.
“Yes ma’am, it does,” Hunter said.
Goldenrod looked at him for a minute and then nodded. “Very well then, you have our permission to enter to the records department,” she said, giving him a distinguished nod. Hunter had an inkling that she and Dawn would probably get along really well. “You should have assisted him to begin with,” she said, directing the comment at the out of breath unicorn behind him before she could mount any sort of protest. “What are you looking for?”
“Well, as I understand it,” Hunter said. “You have a rail car somewhere around here that belongs to Mint Tam and Radiant Twist?”
“Of course,” Goldenrod said, her eyes widening. “It’s their private business car. Why?”
“As I understand it,” Hunter said. “They can attach their car to any train in the rail network and kind of hitch a ride, right?”
“Well, yes,” Goldenrod said. “But what does that—”
“So,” Hunter said, cutting the light green earth pony off. “Do you keep records of when and where they travel when they do that?”
“Well,” Goldenrod said after a moment of surprise. “Yes, we do. Only as a carriage number, but yes, we do keep track of that.”
“Good,” Hunter said, letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Then I need to see whatever record would have that information for a series of dates.”
“Well,” Goldenrod said. “I suppose I don’t see the harm in that, but couldn’t you just ask them—”
“Only after I’ve seen the records, please,” Hunter said. “Can you do that?”
“Of course,” Goldenrod said, nodding to the records mare behind him. “Pull the records, show him what he needs.”
“Quickly, if at all possible,” Hunter said, turning.
“Right,” the records mare panted, turning and jogging off in the direction she’d come from. Hunter took wing following her close behind.
* * *
“Alright,” the mare said, her horn glowing a pearly white as she began pulling files from the row of filing cabinets. “Ms. Twist’s personal rail carriage is assigned number,” she paused as a paper floated in front of her, squinting, “number S-59, and you needed the Dispatcher’s Reports for which days?” she turned to Hunter as he held up the passenger manifests.
The mare sighed as she saw the list. “I spent all day pulling those yesterday, I wish you’d thought of this a little sooner.” She turned back to the rows of filing cabinets and began stepping to one side. “But if I’ve done my job, those records should be. ..” her voice trailed off as she stepped down the row, and Hunter felt his pulse rise a little. A glance at the clock hanging over the door told him it was a minute to eleven.
“Ah, here they are!” A drawer slid open, wrapped in the glow of her magic, files floating out. “Lets see, you needed that Tuesday, and then the following Thursday ...” the mare kept talking to herself, preoccupied in her search as folder after folder floated out and added themselves to a growing stack floating in the air next to her.
“Is that it?” Hunter asked as the last manilla envelope floated out and the drawer slid shut. He looked at the size of the stack in shock. “We have to go through all that?”
“Oh no dearie,” the mare said, trotting past him with a smirk on her face. “We only have to find the page that lists the numbers of each carriage attached to the engine and see if carriage number S-59 is listed on the manifest.”
“Well then lets get moving!” Hunter said, rustling his wings impatiently as he followed the mare into her office.
The mare spread the files across her clear desk in an arc with a swift flick of her horn. “I still don’t understand why you can’t just ask one the twins instead of—”
“No,” Hunter said, cutting her off and ignoring the offended look she gave him. “Ma’am, I can’t do that, and neither can you. In fact,” he said as he flipped one the folders open. “It would be best for you if you just forget this little exchange ever happened.” The mare gave an affronted snort. “Now, what page do I need to check?”
“It’ll be somewhere in the last few pages,” she said dryly, her expression clearly annoyed. “The last page or two will list the serial type numbers of each car. You’re looking for S-59.”
“There it is,” Hunter said, his eyes catching the number near the bottom of the last sheet. “So that means,” he said, pausing as he checked the date and destination at the top of the folder, “that when this train arrived—”
“Departed,” the mare said. “Departed.”
“Right, departed,” Hunter said, his eyes noticing the “D” next to the date on the folder. “So when it departed—” he checked the name, “—the central station in Manehatten, then Radiant and Mint’s carriage was part of the ride?”
“Exactly.” The unicorn gave him a quick nod of her head.
“Ok,” Hunter said, grabbing a pen from the inkwell on her desk and putting a check next to the date and city on his passenger manifest. “I’ll need to check all of these then.” He shoved the checked folder out of the way, ignoring the unicorn’s cries of protest as it slid from the desk, only being saved from crashing to the floor by her magic. “And I’ll need you to go pull any date around these dates. I need to make sure that it isn’t a coincidence, that they were just traveling on these dates,” he said, tapping his hoof on the manifest for emphasis. “Got it?”
For a moment the mare looked like she was going to protest his orders, but then she let out a breath, gave a muted “fine” and stalked back into the records room, muttering under her breath. Hunter turned back to the work ahead of him, grabbing another file and flipping to the last page. His eyes ran down the list, focusing a moment later on the number he was looking for. S-59, in plain ink. He checked the date at the top of the folder, and the manifest got another check mark.
A few minutes later the mare walked back in, another set of folders clutched in her magic, and Hunter instructed her to check for the number to the sisters' carriage on each one. She gave him a dirty look, but quickly settled to her work, and before long the office was silent save for the swish of papers and the faint scratch of quills on paper as checkmarks began to add up.
Hunter made a final check to the manifest and sat back, pushing the last file away with his hoof. He stared down at the heavily marked manifest he’d brought with him. Without fail, each and every one of the dates had a black check next to it.
“Any luck with any of the dates you checked?” he asked, looking up at the mare sitting across from him. Her own search had been much quicker, most of the folders she’d been examining had already been set aside, two in one pile and the rest in stack that was nearly six inches in height.
The mare shook her head, flipping the last few folders past her eyes and depositing them on the larger stack. “Only in these two,” she said, tapping the two spare folders with her horn.
“Alright,” Hunter said sitting back. Ideas were buzzing through his mind. Was there another explanation? Could it just be a coincidence? He gave his head a shake. No, it was too exact. Still, he thought as an idea leapt to mind. There’s one more thing I can check.
“I’ll want to see the records for another set of dates,” he said, his eyes darting to the clock. It was almost eleven thirty, the search had taken him a half hour. “I need to know if you have any record of their carriage being around Canterlot for a few days straight in the last few months.” The mares mouth pursed at his words, but then she brightened.
“Well, they were here for some dinner function—”
Hunter cut her off with a wave of his hoof. “Further back than that. It might have been for a few days, maybe not, but it would have been a few months back, I can’t say when.” The mare began to open her mouth, but Hunter sat forward and cut her off. “They would have been using a rail line near the base of the mountain.”
The mare’s brow wrinkled, and then her eyes widened. “Oh, yes! I do remember that! It was a special request. A little odd though, that’s why I remember it.” She stood up, turning towards the record room. “One moment, I’ll be right back.”
Hunter watched as she left, then looked down at the ink covered manifest, and last to the clock. Eleven-thirty. Steel and Nova would be arriving at the Royal Court any second now. His eyes darted back to the manifest. Hope she hurries, he thought as he looked at the rows of black marks cutting across the paper. Because I’m really worried that I’m right.
* * *
“Ah, Captain Steel Song,” the mare said, her pale blue mane shining in the light of the Day Court hall. “It is a pleasure to meet you at last, I’m afraid I never had the chance to say hello at the dinner.”
“Miss Radiant,” Steel said, giving her a respectful nod. “I’ve heard a little about you, but it’s a pleasure to meet you face to face.” Unless you’re our mare, in which case it's a definite pleasure, he thought as he extended his hoof, giving Radiant’s a small shake. Gemstones hanging across her dress swung with the movement.
“Well, I’ve already had the pleasure of meeting with your lieutenant,” Radiant said, giving her mane a soft flick, a pale, white streak shining through as it flipped over her shoulder. “And I’ve also heard much about you from my own bodyguard.” She tilted her head towards the side of the hall, where a griffon with rust colored plumage and abnormally long claws was chatting with another griffon that he didn’t recognize. “She spoke highly of you,” Radiant continued. “Says that you are quite skilled.”
Steel gave her a polite nod. “I just do my job to the best of my capacity, that’s all.”
“Well,” Radiant said with a small smile. “Blade speaks highly of you and your talents, from the sound of it you were somewhat of a legend in your day. Which is why I find it most interesting that you’re heading this new Guard. Speaking of which,” she said, batting her eyes. “It’s a shame that your lieutenant is not here today. I was looking forward to speaking with him again.”
Steel kept his face carefully neutral at her words. “He had some last moment business to take care of,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “Were you expecting him to be here?”
Radiant shook her head. “Only hoping. I had heard that the Dusk Guard would be in attendance, although I must admit that the military dress is a surprise.” She tipped her horn at the dark green dress shirt and tie that Steel was wearing.
“We didn’t feel the need to be wearing our armor,” Steel said. “After all, this is simply a financial meeting in the heart of the palace.”
“Well, the other Guard are wearing their armor,” she said, waving one hoof towards the door, where several Royal Guard stood at stiff attention.
“Yes, but they’re on duty,” Steel said, narrowing his eyes. Something about the mare seemed ... off. He couldn’t quite place it. “Why, are you expecting trouble?”
Radiant snorted. “Not unless Golden Spike decides to raise a fuss,” she said, letting out a small laugh, but it almost sounded forced. “That poor pony, investing almost everything in a company that turned out to amount to nothing. It was doomed from the start,” she said, turning to walk away. “As aggressive and cruel as he is, he was merely begging for it.” She gave him a slight nod. “Good day, Captain Song.”
“Good Day to you, Miss Radiant,” he said, returning her nod as she walked away towards the griffon she’d indicated earlier, who seemed to be sitting on her own now on the edge of the room. Steel ran his eyes across the hall. Nova was down near the other end, looking relaxed underneath one of the large stained glass windows while he chatted away with some nobles. Steel knew that while he looked relaxed, the kid was analyzing everypony in sight.
Nova’s eyes met his and Steel gave a subtle tilt of his head in Radiant’s direction. Nova’s eyes made a quick dart and then he gave a soft, slow nod. To the ponies he was talking with, it probably looked like he’d just shifted his weight. Steel let a smile creep onto his face as he turned back to the rest of the hall. Sarcastic and cynical as the unicorn was, he couldn't begrudge the Princess for her choice. Nova was proving to be a capable member of the team.
Steel turned back towards the other side of the court, which was festooned in the colors of the day, mostly deep reds and golds that dominated both the carpet and the tapestries that hung from the ceiling. His eyes paused for a moment as he spotted Radiant’s sister, Mint, deep in conversation with several other ponies he identified as fellow shareholders in the ERS. He moved on, his eyes settling on Golden Spike, who was sitting all alone one the far side of the hall. The stallion had a glum look on his face, his eyes low towards the floor.
Steel began to trot across the hall towards Golden, his conversation with Radiant running through his mind. There was an uneasy shiver settling behind his shoulders, a rambling tingle that was making his coat stand on end underneath his dress uniform. After what Hunter’s suspicions, and her odd line of questioning, he could feel an edge to his consciousness. The pit in his stomach was growing as well.
“Well, if it isn’t the captain of the Dusk Guard,” Golden said, looking up as Steel approached. He swirled a glass in one hoof and then took a sip. His dark blue mane was carefully styled, his brown coat pristine under the dress tuxedo he was wearing, but his eyes were haggard, shot with red, dark circles underneath.
“Hello, Golden,” Steel said, stopping just a few feet short of the tired investor. “Looks like you had a long night.”
“I suppose it’s not that hard to tell, is it?” Golden said with a grimace. “One can only do so much when they are up all night trying to recover as much of their funds as possible.”
“So I heard,” Steel said. Golden took a sip of his drink. “And if it’s any consolation, you have my condolences. It can’t be easy having the rug pulled out from under you like that.”
“No,” Golden said with a shake of his head. “It isn’t. Then again,” he tilted the drink in his hoof, holding it close to his face and watching the amber liquid roll back and forth. “Maybe it was for the better. Who knows?”
Steel frowned. “If you’ll excuse my saying so, that sounds almost humble coming from you.”
Golden gave a scoff. “Never fear, captain,” he said, the arrogant tone that Steel remembered from the dinner coming back into his voice. “It’s only a monetary setback. I may not be able to purchase more than a few shares of the ERS, but I’ll survive. I might even get some of my funds back after the fraud investigation.”
“But you won’t have control of ERS,” Steel pointed out. Golden just rolled his eyes. “But there will be a fraud investigation?”
“Of course there will be an investigation,” Golden said, eyes widening in surprise at Steel’s words. “How could there not be? The Badlands are ripe with mineral deposits, everypony knows that. Mimo Mining securing the rights was an outstanding move on the part of those blasted sisters—”
“Wait,” Steel said. “What sisters?”
“You don’t know?” Golden asked, taking another sip of his drink. “Radiant and Mint of course, they helped push the approval permits through that got the Badlands opened in the first place. They weren’t the only ponies of course, everypony who’s anypony has had their eyes on the Badlands for quite some time, but they helped. They were planning on being Mimo Minings primary investors until I managed to outmaneuver them and score the deal myself.” He gave a sigh and fixed his eyes on his glass again. “I guess I should have let them take it, then they’d be the ones caught up in a fraudulent shell.”
“But—” Steel said, sitting back. “I was just talking with Radiant, and she said—” His words died in his mouth.
“Whatever she said, I can assure you it was a lie,” Golden said, eyes narrowing as he stepped forward. “Those two were as desperate as anypony else to be the primary investors in Mimo. And I should have let them take it.” He shook his head, his mane swaying back and forth as he continued speaking, but Steel was only half listening. “Then they’d be the ones who poured their bits into a company that seems to have made them vanish into thin air.” He gave another scoff. “I spent the last day trying to track down their board of directors, and I couldn’t find them anywhere. Nopony could. I’d bet they took the money and ran.”
“I think, Mr. Spike,” Steel said, cutting off Golden’s tirade against the company. “That you might not have outmaneuvered them after all.”
Golden’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean outmaneuvered? I was robbed is what I was. That money had—”
“Not Mimo,” Steel said, turning away and running his eyes across the court hall. It was almost noon. “It’s not them that I’m talking about.”
“Well then who—?” Golden’s query was cut off as the doors to the Day Court swung open and both of the Royal Sisters entered side by side, their ethereal manes forever flowing in some unseen breeze. The chatter in the room almost immediately died to a standstill as the two ruling Princesses looked out across the court, and Steel took the silence as a chance to search the crowd.
“My little ponies, welcome,” Celestia said, raising one hoof and addressing the crowd. Steel continued to run his eyes over the assembly as the Princess continued her greeting. There! he thought, spotting the telltale pale green coats of the two sisters standing beside one another. Mint looked calm and collected, while Radiant almost looked eager. Of course she’s eager, Steel thought. She’s about to—hang on. He frowned.
Where’d their bodyguard go?
* * *
“Look, I’m not comfortable—” the conductor started to say, but Hunter cut him off, snapping his hoof against the wood of the carriage door.
“Just open it,” he said, his voice low. “It’s an inspection, by order of the Dusk Guard.” The conductor gave him a nervous look, but complied, his horn lighting up, a ring of keys floating up from his coat pocket.
Hunter tilted his head back, looking up at the massive carriage. Expensively molded wood outlined a car that was almost twice as tall as some of the other rail cars he’d seen and almost twice as long as well. The personal business carriage of Radiant and Mint was colored a bright purple, almost regal, its edges smooth and rounded. It was apparently something that they’d built partially as a proof-of-concept. Unlike any other carriage on the railway, their car was two stories on the inside, something it accomplished by both sitting lower on the tracks and having a lower ceiling on the inside. At least, according to the worker who had shown him where it was parked in the railyard.
It had also, Hunter had learned a few minutes before, spent several days almost two months ago making trips to a currently unused rail line at the base of the mountain with a secondary cargo car attached. Apparently it had been part of some sort of “R&D experiment” that the sisters had told everyone to kept very quiet about. Along an unused rail line that happened to pass within a quarter-mile of the Crystal Caverns where several dozen tons of high grade crystal had vanished. A few quick words later, and he’d found himself outside the sisters' personal car with a nearby conductor whose name he hadn’t bothered to ask, waiting for him to open the door. If there was proof, he’d find it inside their personal car. He was sure of it.
“That’s odd,” the conductor said, stepping back and rubbing the back of his head with his hoof. “The door won’t unlock.”
“I thought you said that you had the master key?” Hunter said.
“I do,” the conductor said, pulling the key from the lock and giving it a critical eye before replacing it in the keyhole. “It’s supposed to open every door on any one of our trains!” He gave the key a rattle, pushing and pulling it. “This doesn’t make any sense,” he said, sliding the key out and then in again. “It’s a safety feature! Every door on any ERS train has to be able to be unlocked by the master key!”
“Yeah, well it looks like somepony didn’t want you to be able to take a look at what they were up to,” Hunter said, spinning around on his front hooves. “Move over.”
“Move over?” the stallion said, stepping aside as his eyes widened. “Are you going to—” Hunter kicked both his rear hooves out, the crack of the door drowning out the rest of the conductor's response. The door shuddered, but held. He shook his head. If he’d had the time, he could’ve just tried to pick the lock, but … He gave it another buck, and this time the surface of the door splintered, a large crack echoing across the railyard as the wood buckled slightly.
“Crikey,” Hunter said, shaking his rear hooves. “This one's a good nick.” He reared up a third time as the conductor looked on with horrified eyes. Hunter lashed out—and the door snapped again, this time visibly sagging inward under the blow. He gave it one final, solid kick, and the door split in two; the one half tumbling back into the carriage car and slamming into a wall, the other half teetering for a moment on its rails before falling to the side, bouncing off of the carriage.
“Alright,” Hunter said, turning around and eyeing his hoofwork. “It’s open.” He tapped a metal plate that had been around the back of the doorframe's lock. “There was probably one of these on the back door too,” he said, looking over at the now terrified conductor. “Somepony really didn’t want anyone getting in.”
“You just broke their door,” the conductor said at last, his expression dazed.
“Yes I did,” Hunter said, stepping through the doorway. “And if I’m wrong I’ll pay for it. Stay out here will you? If anyone comes, just tell them it's official business and to move along.” From the look of it the entryway led to a pair of stairs, one set going up and the other down. The broken half of the door was resting against the wall that divided them.
“But what if someone starts asking questions?” the conductor asked, his voice nearly a whine.
“Make something up or something,” Hunter said, taking the upper stairway. “What a whinger,” he muttered under his breath as pressed against the door at the top of the stairs. It slid easily under his hoof, making not a sound as it opened up to the upper portion of the car.
It was, Hunter admitted to himself as he looked it over, quite luxurious. What looked like almost a full two-thirds of the top of the car was taken up by a very expensive and plush looking combination sitting room and office that wouldn’t have been out of place in any upper-class Canterlot noble's home. Thick white carpet muffled his hoofsteps as he stepped into the room, and the lights came on without him ever touching a switch, although the windows that stretched the length of the car at head level didn’t make their appearance very startling. The corner to his right was occupied by what looked like a mini-bar, while the center of the room was home to several chairs arranged around a low table. The far wall was dominated by a large desk and another hall, which he assumed led to the stairs down.
Hunter shook his head and took a quick look through the windows, his eyes settling on the massive clock that hung at the far end of the railyard. Ten minutes to noon. It was kind of nice, the ERS having those clocks everywhere.
“Alright, evidence, evidence, evidence,” Hunter muttered to himself. The desk was the most likely spot, so he glided over to it and began checking through the drawers. glancing over their contents. For a moment he thought he’d found something with the bottommost drawer, but when he flipped one of the files open it was nothing more than financial reports. Old financial reports from the date on the top. He flipped through a few more folders before tossing them on the top of the desk. Nothing.
A quick check around the rest of the room showed nothing that caught his immediate attention, and he could almost feel the tick of the clock in the back of his head, moving towards noon. He headed down the hallway, stopping at the first doorway and pulling it open, and then pausing and letting a low whistle out.
It was a bedroom. Small and somewhat cramped, but still far more luxurious than anything he’d ever slept in. Unless he missed his guess, the bedspread was solid silk, and the pillows sitting against the back of the bed looked to be silk as well.
Hunter darted into the room, his eyes searching for anything, anything at all that could be used as evidence that the two sisters were up to something. One of the enchanted crystals, a piece of notepaper—anything! A nightstand next to the bed held a small notebook, and he flipped it open, eyes running over the small pages. Diagrams and sketches of gears stood out to him alongside technical drawings of rail carriages and steam engines. He frowned, flipping forward.
“Come on, come on ...” he muttered as the pages flipped by. “There has to be something—ah!” He stopped flipping the pages, staring down at a small drawing of what looked quite a bit like the enchanted crystals they’d found in the golem set. Numerous equations surrounded the small diagram. He’d seen enough magic equations to recognize the scrawled notes as such, but he had no idea what they meant. Still, it was close enough that he could probably use it as an excuse to cut off any hope the sisters had of buying ERS.
He flipped the page and his jaw dropped. Staring up at him from the faintly yellow pages was the unmistakable chest of one of the golems, notes and specifics written all around he it. He flipped the page. Another diagram, this one showing off one of the golem's arms. Another flip. A leg.
“Crikey,” Hunter said, sitting back with a soft thump. “They really are behind it.” He sat for a second, his eyes wide. As glad as he was to find that he was right, it was still a shock.
“But why did they—?” he shook his head. “No time for questions, Hunter,” he said to himself, snapping the notebook shut and tossing it into his saddlebag. “Now it’s time to—” he stopped speaking as he turned, something sparkling in the corner of his eye. He crossed the small bedroom and pulled the partially ajar dresser drawer all the way open.
A battery crystal, just like the one they’d found in the folem, glowed faintly up at him from the dresser drawer. Hunter tapped it, then picked it up. If this doesn’t condemn them, he thought as he slid the crystal into his backpack. Nothing will.
His ears perked up as he heard the first chime of the railyard clock. “Tartarus!” He darted for the door, his wings giving him extra push. I have to get this to Steel, he thought as he rounded the doorway. Before the Princesses—
“Hey there, Hunter,” Blade said from the far side of the room. She tilted her head, giving him a feral grin as he came to a halt.
“We need to to talk.”