Plum reacted with calm acceptance when I told her that she was staying at my house. And when I told her that her father wasn’t coming with us, that’s when the filly dug her hooves in. She ranted and screamed, refusing even to listen. It took the combined efforts of all three of us, her father included, to convince her to go.
With that much adult power arrayed against her, the fight just went out of the little filly all at once.
She hugged her father goodbye in a disturbingly mechanical fashion that broke my heart watching it. I wanted more than anything to get Tapioca out of there as well, but if the kidnappers came back and found him gone, they would assume he left town.
“But why your house?” Persimmon asked me as we walked through the streets of Hoofington. The sun was edging its way towards the horizon, and ponies were hurrying home from work, no doubt to get some dinner in them before relaxing the rest of the night.
“Because I’ll need your help, and I don’t want to leave Plum alone,” I said, nodding towards the filly in question.
Plum’s mood was like nothing I’d ever seen from her before. Her hooves dragged as she walked with her head hanging down and her muzzle almost touching the ground. She wasn’t even watching where she was going as she walked aimlessly between the two of us, which is probably the only thing that kept her from veering off and walking into any buildings.
“Besides,” I said. “They want the jar, which is at my house. Since we have to stop there anyway, I feel it’s best if we leave Plum with my mom.”
How that was going to pan out, I was dreading to see. It would require tact, and no small amount of deception. Mom wasn’t likely to let me go face a band of criminals on my own, not even to save her new friend Mulberry. This sort of thing is why she’d pressured me to retire from the police force in the first place.
As we walked I kept an eye out, not only ahead of us, but behind us as well. The last thing we needed was to have one of the gang members following us to my home. Plum wouldn’t be safe if they knew where to find her. I’d seen nothing so far, but that was no reason to let my guard down.
It didn’t take long before we reached my house, the peeling white fence leaning drunkenly across the yard. I opened the gate and made my way to the door, bracing myself before I opened it.
Mom wasn’t going to be happy about this.
“Come on in,” I said after I got the door open. I closed it behind them once they were in the entryway.
“This is where you live?” Persimmon asked, her muzzle wrinkling in distaste as she looked around at all the stacked boxes, clutter, and outright trash lying around.
“Yeah,” I said, too preoccupied to be embarrassed about it for once. “Plum, you can head up to my bedroom, okay? Maybe take a nap or something.”
The look of hopelessness the filly gave me chilled me. She nodded and started to move towards the stairs, but I stepped around in front of her and stopped her, holding a hoof up to her shoulder.
“I promise you, it’s going to be okay,” I said, gathering the filly into a hug. A trembling foreleg reached up and hugged me back. “They said they’d keep her overnight. They won’t do anything until tomorrow at the earliest, and I plan to get her back before night falls.”
“Okay,” Plum said quietly.
Her mood seemed a little better as she walked up the stairs to my bedroom. I watched her go until she was out of sight, then turned to the teacher.
“Wait here, please,” I said.
She nodded, looking around with a distracted look on her face. I left to go find my mom.
She was in her workroom, the pedal-powered sewing machine clacking away as she ran fabric under the needle. I recognized my “super-hero” outfit from the black and purple, and realized that she must have found the rip I’d made in the costume and decided to fix it.
“Hey, Mom,” I said, startling her.
The wheel on the sewing machine wound down as she stopped pedalling to turn and smile at me.
“Oh! Hello, dear. Were you out?”
“Yeah, I went over to Plum’s for a little while. Speaking of which, I have something to ask you.”
“What is it?” she asked as she took the costume out from under the needle to inspect the stitching.
“I want Plum to stay here for a few hours, and I want you to keep an eye on her for me.”
Her brow knitted in confusion. “What’s going on?”
“A problem with her parents,” I said, skirting as close to the truth as I dared. “I thought it would be best if she got out of the house and stayed here for a while.” I scraped a hoof along the ground as I considered my next words. “I’m going to head back out and see if I can help them.”
“You’re not going to be here?” Mom put the costume aside and frowned down at me. “Cinnamon, I’m not sure it’s a good idea for you to get involved in this. If they’re having marital problems, then it’s up to them to fix it.”
“I know,” I said. “And, trust me, the last thing I’d want to do is get between a husband and wife who are fighting.”
Again, everything I was saying was technically true. And at the same time, a lie. I couldn’t think of a better way, though. And even this much of a delay was causing the tension in my chest to wind up a few more notches. Every second between now and getting Mulberry back was a second I couldn’t afford to waste.
“Then what—”
“It’s just something I need to check on. I’ll be back soon, I promise.”
She stared at me, her expression unreadable. After a few seconds, I realized I was tapping a hoof and forced myself to stop it.
“You’re hiding something from me,” she said with a frown.
“Because you don’t need to know,” I shot back.
Her frown shifted to a glare.
“I’m calling in a favor, Mom,” I said, my impatience threatening to burst out and swamp my fragile facade of calm.
She tilted her head at me as her glare faded. “What favor, exactly?”
“All of them,” I said curtly. “You owe me, and you know it. Watch Plum, just for the next hour or two, and I’ll call it even.”
Her eyebrows raised and the glare returned as she huffed out a breath through her nostrils.
“Oh, really? I owe you? For what?”
“For what?” I was actually stunned for a half a second. “For what?! How about for dragging me away from my life so you could stuff me in a dress and put a ribbon in my hair? How about forcing me to go to school again? How about the constant humiliation every single day that I’m stuck in this damned filly’s body?! How about that, Mom?”
My voice rose steadily as my tirade continued, and at first it looked like I was reaching her. Her head drew back and her ears flattened as she raised a forehoof to her chest. Not that I cared, not at that moment. All the rage I’d been suppressing for the last two months flowed out of me like an infection from a lanced boil. I couldn’t have stopped it if I’d tried.
My advantage didn’t last. Mom rallied, her own anger rising as mine vented. Her faced flushed an ugly red even as tears of frustration and rage flowed down her cheeks.
“Well, as if it’s so bad that you’re like this! Like it wasn’t bad for me, every damned day, thinking that you were out there with the criminals? Wondering when I’d get the letter saying you were in the hospital, or dead!” She stomped a hoof and loomed over me. “You’re damned right I kept you like this on purpose! If it’s the only way I can keep you safe, then I’ll do anything!”
“Better safe than happy, huh?” I shot back, and I could see the impact those words made on her heart.
Then Mom’s eyes narrowed as she drew in a deep breath. But before she was able to go on the counter-offensive, she was interrupted by a soft, dry voice coming from the sewing room’s doorway.
“Well, that dispels any lingering doubts I might have had about your story,” Miss Persimmon said with an arched eyebrow and a wry half-grin. “Sorry I ever doubted you, Cinnamon.”
“Uh. No problem,” I managed. “I thought I asked you to stay—”
“What’s she doing here?!” Mom shrieked, pointing a trembling hoof.
“She’s here to help me do what I need to do,” I said. I was still trembling with adrenaline. “For Plum’s sake.”
“Why is she in my house?” Mom snapped at me. Before I could even think to answer, she whirled on the teacher and shouted, “Get out!”
“I don’t think so,” Miss Persimmon replied calmly.
“You get out!” Mom took a step towards her, her eyes wild.
“Child Protection Services,” Miss Persimmon said coolly, freezing my mom in her tracks. “I have my own personal contact at the local Hoofington office. All teachers do.”
Mom’s jaw worked, but only squeaks came out. Miss Persimmon either didn’t see or was ignoring my scowl.
“I know you’re trying to help,” I said, putting a warning in my voice, “but don’t you ever threaten my mom.”
Miss Persimmon smiled at me sadly and shook her head, causing her unbound mane to undulate gently.
“I’m a teacher,” she said calmly. “And, filly or stallion, you’re my student. I failed to protect you once already, today. I’m not going to fail again.”
I glanced over at my Mom, who looked to be on the verge of a panic attack.
“You can’t… Nopony will believe you,” she said, a hint of defiance entering her voice.
“If you mean about Cinnamon’s transformation, they don’t need to,” Miss Persimmon said. “One look at the state of this house and they’ll take her… sorry, him, away for at least a week while they assess his living situation.” She cocked her head at my mother and added, “I’m willing to bet that, in that time, we could figure out a way to return Cinnamon to normal.”
I looked back and forth between Persimmon and Mom, feeling torn. The teacher looked calm and resolved while Mom looked like she was on the point of breaking. Every instinct was telling me to stand between the two of them, get Persimmon to back down. Work for a peaceful resolution. Only, there was one thing even more important.
Mulberry was still in danger.
“Damn it all,” I growled. “We don’t have time for this!” I rounded on my mother and barked out, “Mom!”
She jumped and looked down at me, eyes wide and near panicked.
“What?” she said, her voice weak and wavering.
“I’m going out. I need to arrange a safe place for Plum, and Miss Persimmon is going to help me do that. I need you to keep her here, and safe. Got it?”
“But…”
I held up a hoof as I took a deep breath and held it while I counted to ten. When I finally let it out, I felt a good deal calmer.
“Mom,” I said seriously. “This is important. I have to help her. That girl…” I sighed and felt my shoulders slump. I looked my mother in the eyes and said, “Please. She’s the closest thing I’ve ever had to a sister, and she needs my help.”
Mom’s eyes widened in shock. “Sister?” she said weakly.
“Yes.”
She was quiet for a few breaths and then nodded. When she spoke, it was in a quiet voice that held just a hint of awe in it. “Alright. I’ll do that for you.”
I breathed a sigh of relief as a good amount of the anxiety I’d been trying to ignore flooded out of me. “Thanks. Can you two wait down here? I’m going to go talk to Plum.”
“Okay,” Mom said. Persimmon nodded her assent, and I left the two mares behind in the sewing room. I can only imagine what kind of an awkward situation I’d left them both in.
Plum was lying on her back on my bed. Three of the plush animals had been rescued from the pile at the top of the bed and were being hugged to her chest as the filly stared at the canopy above her. Her eyes flicked over to me briefly as I closed the door behind me.
“How are you?” I asked.
She shrugged, then hugged the plush animals tighter. One of them, a stuffed robin, squeaked a little.
“I’m going to get the nectar,” I said. I waited for a few seconds, but she didn’t reply.
With a sigh, I walked up to the bed and dropped down on my belly in order to wriggle underneath it. I found the box with the nectar in it on my third try and pulled it out with me as I backed my way out from under the bed.
Plum hadn’t moved an inch as far as I could tell. My heart clenched at the emotionless expression on her face. I ground my teeth together as a dull and unguided rage began building. Plum was almost always smiling, laughing or talking, or some combination of all three. As I shook the jar out of the boot I’d stored it in, I promised myself I’d restore that smile. And while I was at it, I’d see that every single pony who had crushed her spirit would suffer for it.
“How are you going to do it?” Plum asked softly.
I gave her what I hoped was a confident smile. “Easy. Step one is to get you to safety, and that’s done already.”
When that failed to produce anything resembling a smile, I forged on.
“Step two is trickier. Miss Persimmon and I go find Uncle Figgy and we get him to tell us where they’re keeping your mom.”
“And then what?” she asked dully. The exhaustion in her voice made my heart ache. “The two of you break in past however many bad guys and rescue her?”
“We aren’t dumb enough to try,” I said gently. “No, we just find out where she is. Then we get Figgy to tell us who we can actually trust in the police office.” Hopefully, the Captain wasn’t one of the ponies on the smuggler’s payroll. “We bring the jar as proof, and Figgy will come along and tell his side of the story too.”
Her muzzle scrunched up at that. “How’ll you make him do that?”
“You sound like you doubt me,” I said, cranking my smile up a little. “But don’t forget, I’ve been trained for this kind of thing. I’m sure I can convince him to talk to the cops. Even if he refuses, the jar, along with our testimony, will be enough to get a rescue operation going. Then we all go get your mom. The police arrest the bad ponies, including the ones on the force, Mulberry goes back home, and everything goes back to the way it should be.”
I started stuffing the jar into my saddlebags as Plum mulled that over.
“And if they won’t help you, or if the police are all bad, then what?” she asked, her voice small.
“Then we go with Plan ‘B’,” I said. “Persimmon distracts them long enough for me to sneak in and find Mulberry. I’m small enough to go unnoticed. I’ll find her and break her out of wherever she is. Then I’ll find a way to cause a big commotion and we’ll make a break for it.”
“And if they catch you?”
I looked over at her. Unshed tears were pooled in her eyes as she stared upwards. The forelegs holding the plush animals were trembling. I made a hard decision then: I decided to tell the truth.
“I’ll level with you, Plum. There’s a chance that this won’t work out. They may catch me, they may stop your mom from escaping. But if they do catch me, then they’ll have what they want: the jar and the pony who took it.” I grinned. “I’m pretty sure I can turn that into a win.”
“How?” she asked.
This kid. Always asking the hard questions.
“I’ll tell them that I only did it because I wanted to join their gang,” I said. That much of my old plan could still work, if it came to saving my hide.
Plum looked at me as if I were a crazy pony. I shrugged, then forced my features into a pout and blinked up at her with my big, blue eyes. With my voice in a higher register than I usually used, I said, “Please, mister! I only wanted to impress you guys. I want to join your gang! It sounds so cool! And think of all the ways having a little kid around could be useful! I could deliver messages, and nopony would ever search my saddlebags because I’m just a kid!”
In spite of everything, that got Plum to crack a smile. I decided to push my luck and dug my old yearbook out of my saddlebags.
“Oh, almost forgot,” I said as I flipped the pages. “If you were ever curious about what I looked like as a little colt, here you go.”
The plushes fell aside as Plum sat up and reached for the book, a glint of curiosity kindling in her eyes. I told her where to find the picture with me in it. She stared at it silently for a few seconds before her muzzle scrunched up.
“You weren’t kidding about being ugly,” she said.
“Hey!”
She actually managed a giggle at my mock-offense. Then she hopped off the bed and gave me a fierce hug.
“Actually, I think you’re kind of cute,” she said. “You know, in an ugly kind of way.” She kissed me on the cheek and offered me a wavering smile. “Still, if your ears stick out that much when you’re a stallion, I think I’d better call off the wedding.”
“They stick out worse, actually,” I said. I reached over and took the book back, closing the page on the ruddy young colt with the big ears and the crooked teeth.
“Hmm.” She ran a hoof in circles on the carpet, then looked back up to me. “You promise you’ll be safe?”
I nodded. “Me and your mom,” I said.
Her eyes stared into mine for a few seconds as if searching for answers there. She finally nodded and said, “Okay.”
“Good,” I said, feeling relieved. “You wait here. Get some rest or something. I’ll tell my mom to cook you dinner later on if you get hungry.”
“I won’t be hungry,” she said. Then she climbed back up on the bed, gathered a few more random plushes to her chest, and rolled over with her back to me.
I looked at her for a few seconds. She looked so tiny on my huge bed, so fragile. So alone. I turned and walked out of my bedroom, closing the door softly behind me.
I could feel the tension from the lower level before I’d even made it halfway down the stairs. I found Mom and Persimmon sitting side by side on the couch. The teacher was saying something, and my mom was staring at the floor.
“What’s going on?” I asked as I hopped off the bottom stair.
Both mares looked at me, then at each other.
“None of your concern,” Miss Persimmon said. “I was just having a chat with Almond, is all.”
My eyes narrowed, but this wasn’t the time to get into it.
“Fine,” I said curtly. “Let’s get going, then.”
Persimmon got up off of the couch and walked to the door without a backwards glance. My mom just sat there, fidgeting with her forehooves and studying the dusty, cluttered floor.
“Mom?” I said. She flinched and looked up at me. “Plum said she probably won’t be hungry, but if you could offer her something to eat in an hour or so that would be great.”
She nodded. “I have some pasta and cheese sauce I can reheat,” she said.
“That’s fine.” Another thing occurred to me, then. “Mom, if somepony comes to the door and asks about Plum, and it isn’t Mulberry or Miss Persimmon, you tell them she’s not here. Got it? No matter who it is, even if they’re wearing a police uniform.”
“Police..?” Her brows knitted in confusion. “Cinnamon, what’s going on?”
I hesitated. “Just family stuff,” I lied. “Just… keep her safe, alright?”
“I… I will,” she said. Then, cautiously, “Cinnamon?”
“Gotta go, Mom,” I said, heading off whatever question she was going to ask.
I followed Miss Persimmon out the front door, closing it softly behind me.
“So, where to first?” she asked.
“To go and talk to a criminal,” I replied with a smirk.
“Oh.” Miss Persimmon’s face lost a little bit of color. “How wonderful.”
~~*~~
The apartments lining the street were beaten down and ragged, a fair match for the local population, ponies of rough edges and hard lives who lived on the lowest rungs of the social ladder. Graffiti marked the walls here and there, and I recognized the signs of three minor gangs. They were chopping the neighborhood up into pieces, each claiming parts of it for their own.
The ponies who lived here weren’t the kind who enjoyed strangers, especially ones as well groomed as Persimmon. They would stop what they were doing to stare at us blankly as we walked by. It put the mare on edge.
“This isn’t a good neighborhood,” she told me nervously.
“I know. But this is where Figgy Pudding lives.” I scowled at the front entrance of the shabby apartment building for a moment before picking my way past a couple of vagrants lying on the sidewalk. “Come on. We don’t have much time.”
I led the way, Persimmon coming up behind me. The poor mare was doing a good job of acting nonchalant, but her ears twitching madly on top of her head gave her fear away. The crumbling stone steps to the building gave way to a front door with a broken lock, which I pushed open.
“Apartment 6D,” I said, heading through a hallway of peeling wallpaper to find the staircase.
One advantage of being a filly is that I have less mass to move around. I bolted up to the sixth floor and then had to wait for Persimmon to catch up with me.
“You going to be okay?” I asked her.
“I’ll be fine in a minute,” she said, a little short of breath.
I shrugged and rolled my eyes. Unicorns have no endurance. I decided to use the time it took her to recover in order to get myself ready. I dug through my saddlebag until I found my badge with its too-long lanyard and prepared to loop it around my neck.
“Here,” Persimmon said. Her horn glowed and my badge lifted off of me in a faint green nimbus. She tied a knot in the lanyard and lowered it back over my head. The badge now hung across the front of my chest, right where it should be.
“Thanks,” I said. “Think you can use your fancy magic to get my mane out of the way?”
She smiled as her horn glowed once again. I felt the ribbon in my hair untie itself and slide out, only to be replaced a moment later by one of Persimmon’s own hair ties. Soon enough I had a copy of the teacher’s typical bun on the back of my head. It felt strange and heavy, but it was good not having all that hair in the way.
With Persimmon recovered, we made our way down the dingy hallway. One of the lights was flickering, casting a disorienting strobe effect that made the pair of us blink until we got past it. Apartment 6D was on the right side, the last apartment in the hallway. As we approached, I nudged Persimmon with a hoof, holding that same hoof up to my lips when she looked down at me. She nodded, getting the message, and we both walked quietly up to the door.
Rather than knocking, I put my ear against the wood. Somepony was definitely in. I heard muttering and hoofsteps coming from within, as well as the occasional thud as something fell over. I recognized the muttering voice as Figgy Pudding’s.
I stepped in front of the door and hit it hard with a hoof, three steady and even knocks. The sounds coming from inside cut off instantly. When it became obvious that nopony was coming to the door, I knocked again.
“Get your ass over here, Figgy Pudding,” I shouted. “I know you’re in there!”
A few more seconds passed. Then I heard hoofsteps heading towards the outer wall. I growled, realizing that he was heading towards the fire escape. I didn’t have time to chase that stallion around the city.
“It’s about Mulberry!” I shouted desperately. “I just need to talk!”
The hoofsteps stopped. Then I could hear him making his cautious way towards the door.
“Who is it?” he asked.
“Plum’s friend,” I said, motioning to Miss Persimmon to hide a little further down the hallway. “You know, the little filly?”
Figgy’s door cracked open to reveal a bloodshot eye, which rolled down and widened in shock when he saw me.
“I’ll be damned,” the stallion said. Then he opened the door. “Look, kid, I don’t have… hey!”
I walked in right past him, easily evading his belated attempt to stop me. A quick glance was all I needed to assure me that he was alone in here. The apartment looked much like I’d expected, a one-room efficiency. The water-damaged wallpaper was peeling at the seams and yellowed from years of cigarette smoke. A small kitchen area was separated from the rest of the room by a low counter, piled with dishes and empty take-out boxes. On the floor was a rumpled mattress, the sheets a dingy grey and pushed to one side of the bed. The whole place stank of bachelorhood gone wrong.
That’s not where my attention was, though. I was focused on the suitcase that was propped open on the one ragged couch in the room. It was stuffed full of articles of clothing and toiletries.
“Going somewhere?” I said, finally getting a good look at the stallion.
He was much worse for wear than I’d remembered seeing him. His greased mane was sticking out in all directions and his left eye was bruised and swollen shut. There was another bruise along the side of his jaw. Nicks and scrapes covered his legs and chest, and when he walked it was with a definite limp.
“None of your business, kid!” he snapped at me. “Now get—”
“My goodness,” Miss Persimmon said as she came in from the hallway, shutting the door behind her. “Cinnamon, you do bring me to the most interesting places.”
Figgy had gaped at her like a goldfish until she was done talking. Then he shrieked, “Who the hell are you?!”
“She’s with me,” I said. I held up my badge with a hoof. “And, Figgy? You’re in more trouble than you can imagine.”
I was a felon, now. Since I was past my retirement date, I was now guilty of impersonating a police officer. But it worked, and that was all that mattered to me at the moment. The strength went out of the stallion’s hindquarters the moment his eyes landed on the badge. He sat down hard on his filthy carpet, eyes wide.
“This has got to be some sort of joke,” he said desperately. “Right? You’re not a cop.”
“She’s one of our finest,” Persimmon said smoothly. “Magically altered, of course. All the better for infiltration and investigation.”
I grinned at the mare. That was pretty good. She winked at me, then looked back at the now suddenly trembling Figgy Pudding.
“Maybe you’d better tell Officer Swirl everything you know.”
“I... I don’t know anything!” he said. Then, “I want a lawyer.”
“I don’t have time for this, Figgy,” I said, scowling. “I’m not even here for you. There’s a little filly bawling her eyes out because some bad ponies took her mom.” He flinched, and I pushed harder. “She’s terrified she’ll never see her mother again. She’s hoping somepony will help rescue her before it’s too late.”
Figgy was studying the floor in front of him. I watched a tear track down from his uninjured eye with a sense of crystalline satisfaction.
“Figgy, I’m going to guess that your… friends are the ones who beat seven kinds of hell out of you. It’s obvious you’re cutting out of town. But you have to think about who’s getting left behind. Your brother. Plum.” I walked over and, with my best fake sympathy, I put a hoof on his side. “Mulberry.”
I felt him shudder at the name.
“She’s one of the sweetest and kindest mares I’ve ever met,” I said softly. “And she’s in some serious trouble. And the only pony in all of Hoofington who can help her right now is you.”
“They’ll kill me,” he whispered.
“Then think of what they’ll do to Mulberry if they don’t find what they want.”
He shuddered again. I let him sit for a while and stew.
“There’s a way out of this,” I said.
He looked over at me, doubt in the one eye that wasn’t swollen shut.
“How?”
“Crown’s evidence.”
His eye opened wide and he got back up on his hooves. “No way! I’m no snitch! There’s no way—”
“Focus!” I barked. “This isn’t about snitching. They have Mulberry, Figgy! They went after your family! They crossed a line, and you know it.”
I glared at him as I advanced. He retreated until his rump hit the far wall.
“It isn’t about snitching, it isn’t about honor, it’s not even about the law,” I said, my voice soft and deadly. “It’s about who you’re going to protect. Is it going to be the ones who blackened your eye, or is it going to be your own family?!”
The stallion was panting as his one eye stared down at me. He licked his lips, and I saw that one of his teeth was missing. The smugglers had really done a number on him. And, if they were willing to do this to one of their own, then it was more urgent than ever to get Mulberry away from them.
Figgy’s ears drooped as his will broke.
“What do you want to know?” he asked, his voice thick and raspy.
I nodded and pulled the tape recorder out of my saddlebags.
“Everything,” I said as I hit record. “Starting with where they’re keeping Mulberry.”