Chapter 14
Facade sighed and laid across her bed on the second floor. It had been a busy day at work, sorting out the letters that had come in from Canterlot. What had been most stressful for her was the royal decree that had gone into circulation.
The princess had written home from her stay in the dragon kingdom, and the entire land was put on high alert for changelings. If any changeling were sighted, they were to be brought in for questioning regarding the past assassination of Lord Brimstone, and anyling found guilty would be sent to the dragon king to be dealt with. The decree didn't say how, but Facade knew full well that it could only mean a merciless execution.
She felt to make sure nopony was able to see her before dropping her pegasus disguise and drawing the curtains shut with her magic. It felt good to get out of her pony body and stretch her real wings out, and feel the cool air flow through her large fetlock pores; sweating like a pony grossed her out.
A shifting noise drew her attention, but before she could get up, she felt herself being watched. She bolted upright, but found nopony in the room with her. Scowling, she relaxed.
"What do you want?" the changeling asked.
"I need information," Trace said.
"I don't know what I could tell you," Facade answered.
Trace shoved her onto her bed. "I don't have time for your games. I know you have been collecting love from this town. You must have a repository somewhere. Perhaps one of the hive's mining operations? I need to know where."
Facade grunted as she was roughly pushed back, but after hearing Trace's request, she laughed. "Oh, is the poor invisible changeling having trouble gathering love for himself?" Her laughter was cut off as she felt his hoof press against her throat.
"Where do you store your reserves?!" Trace demanded.
The female coughed. "I'm not telling you where! You think I'll betray the hive to you, you murderer?!"
Trace paused, and then chuckled. "Oh, so you know, do you?"
"Who else could it be?" Facade wheezed, "An entire mining camp slaughtered before anyone could escape? Nopony could get in long enough to do something like that unless they created their own spell to become a changeling. Even then, you need to know the password. Anyling who was captured would kill themselves before letting that information out."
Trace laughed loudly. "You're so sure of yourself! I find your arrogance in the face of death refreshing. But I have no intention of hurting anyling else. That little... incident... was simply my way of sending a message to our queen."
"Which was?"
Trace revealed himself so Facade could see the murder in his eyes. "To never cross me. That day was just a sample of what I could do against the swarm. Mark my words, if I wanted to, I could simply give the hive's location to the princess. The kingdoms are already on the brink of war. If Chrysalis, or anyling else, crosses me, I will make sure she and all her brood are wiped off the face of this earth."
Facade fell limp in fear. "You... you wouldn't! They're your family, too!"
The assassin scoffed. "Family. Does family send their own out to be executed for nothing? Does family get rid of you when you've outlived your usefulness to them?" He pushed harder on her throat, and brought his face closer. "I. Have. No. Family. Anyling who gets in my way is dead. Now," he threw her to the floor, "you're going to tell me everything I want to know."
Several miles south of Ponyville, an iron mine buzzed with the activity of ponies pushing carts around and carrying things in and out of the mine. Mercenaries wearing leather armor stood guard at key points and in a perimmiter around the camp.
Trace glared at one of them to test for attention, but was not noticed. So, they've employed ponies to guard them? He chuckled. Idiots. What could they do to stop me? They must have thought it was another pony who attacked them, perhaps in retribution for that disgusting dragon's death. He sat back and looked up. Maybe that means Chrysalis doesn't know I'm alive. No, I can't afford to go on that assumption.
He shook his head and stood up, then continued to survey the camp. This one was bigger than the last, and had several buildings. The cerebrate could be in any one; if he killed the wrong one, it could alert the whole camp. There was also a gate over the mine this time which he wouldn't be able to open without revealing his position.
Trace crept down closer for a better look, and stopped when he saw something glint in the light of the setting sun. He leaned down and saw a tripwire set in the dirt. Stepping back, he retreated into the brush and found a rabbit who was totally unaware of his presence. He hissed in its ear, scaring it into running out over the wire.
Its foot caught the thin string and the rabbit tripped over. Almost instantly, a jolt of electricity flowed into its body, roasting it alive.
Trace smiled. Very clever. But what traps could they have set in the air? Looking up, he spotted blotches of the sky that were darker than everywhere else. This time he scared a bird, and it too met an electrified death as the night-camoflauged storm clouds struck at the first conductor to enter their range.
The assassin grinned. One does not simply walk into this camp. He knew that flying under the range of the clouds would kick up dust, and surely that would be noticed. A distraction was needed.
Trace hunkered down and made sure his horn was covered in the brush. One of the sentry towers stood off to the side out of the way. He focused on one of the load-bearing struts, and with a kinetic slash, cut a gash into the wood. It was slow work, having to use small cuts to prevent the light of his magic from growing too bright and drawing attention. With the wood sliced in several places, the tower began to creak and groan.
It was now or never. Trace silently slinked forward to the edge of the camp. The wood started to splinter under the weight above it, and the first leg of the tower snapped. Several voices called out as the tower fell down, killing the pony on top of it in the crash. Enough dust was kicked up that Trace was able to flutter over the network of electric trip wires and land on the other side, safe and sound.
Feeling unusually sadistic, he tripped one of the scurrying ponies and watched them tumble into the wires and get electrocuted in front of him. The pony burst into green flames and reverted back into a changeling that sizzled on the ground. It was especially satisfying to Trace to find new ways of punishing the changelings who betrayed him.
Sneaking past the commotion, Trace started to hear the telepathic messages of the changelings.
Cerebrate! A sentry tower collapsed and one of our guards is dead. One of the workers got caught in the electric net.
Take care of our fallen brother, and tell the ponies their pay just went up. Let them take care of their own.
Trace used the confusion to enter the mine. Sadly, there were no stores of dynamite in this one, and from the looks of it, they really were digging for iron here, probably as a cover and a way to pay the mercenaries. There was something else different, too: the cerebrate's signals were stronger in here; she was probably overseeing something here in person.
"We've struck a rich vein, my cerebrate," a worker said from around a corner, "The ponies will gladly keep our secret for this much."
"What of the empathite?" the cerebrate asked.
"Almost fully charged," the worker replied, "We will be ready to ship them off soon. Speaking of which, what should we do with the prisoners?"
Trace's ears perked forward at the mention of prisoners. He snooped in a bit closer, keeping in mind not to look at the changelings he was spying on.
"They're no mercenaries; no ammount of riches will buy their silence," the cerebrate said, "Kill them all as soon as we're ready to go."
The assassin grinned to himself. He'd stumbled upon a live cache; a place where changelings kept the original ponies they had replaced in stasis. He briefly considered leaving them to their deaths, but then he thought about the consequences of their rescue. Having so many originals returned would uproot a number of changelings and make the swarm suffer that much more. Besides, what fun was there in dealing death if he didn't do it himself?
With all the guards about, getting the ponies out alive would be tricky. The first step, of course, would be cutting off communications. With the cerebrate right there, it was too easy. The last part involved finding the prisoners and leading them out; doing so with too many guards still alive would be impossible.
Trace moved through the tunnel and silently killed off every one of the confused changelings. There weren't many; most of them were out living the lives of their captives. However, the few on the surface had noticed the silence of their cerebrate, and soon after, several mercenaries came down to investigate.
"Someone's killing the bugs," one of them said, "Fan out, find the bastard, kill him."
"Hey!" one of the mercs called, "I think this one's their leader."
"Damn!" said another, "There goes our pay!"
"Change of plans then," said the first, "These bugs pay us all the iron, or our enemy becomes our friend."
Over your dead body, Trace thought. He climbed the cieling until he was behind them, and quickly killed them all off.
Unfortunately, stealth would not be so favorable against those on the surface. Instead, Trace found the empathite store and dug in, relishing in the flavors of all the collected love. He fed until he was full, then took even more, supercharging his magic. When he couldn't possibly hold anymore, he flew out of the mine and burst into the air.
Taking the others by surprise, he started firing down on everyone in sight. They quickly retaliated with magic and crossbows, but in the end, they were firing at thin air as Trace rounded back and shot them from behind.
"We're surrounded!" A pony tried to escape, and Trace grabbed hold of his head. The mercenary cried out in fear, but was quickly silenced by Trace snapping his neck; sometimes it felt so much better to forego magic and kill his prey with his bare hooves.
The remainder was dealt with within minutes, and at last, Trace was alone, standing in a field of death. He now had free access to a love store which he would gather in time. Now, it was time to strike another blow against the swarm.