//------------------------------// // 14 - Spelunking, Part 3 // Story: Black Angel // by Zobeid //------------------------------// As they moved onward, they left behind the vast formations of calcite crystals. They caught glimpses of changelings: glints of their featureless blue eyes, rustles of wings and skittering sounds as they moved about. However, the creatures did not seem eager for another confrontation as they kept their distance and stayed in the shadows. Observing this, Tusk said, “I doubt they’ll let us walk out peacefully.” “It would go better for them if they did,” Nightmare Moon replied. She moved closer and whispered, “My magical powers are returning, but they are depleted whenever I cast spells in battle. I must conserve some strength for our final escape.” He nodded his understanding and moved to take the lead. They passed through an intersection with multiple passages, choosing the largest. Unlike the irregular natural cavern passages or the cramped, tube-like tunnels the changelings had (presumably) made, this tunnel was large and rectangular in profile, more like a mine shaft. Tusk wondered if it was exactly that: an old mine shaft taken over by the changelings. To his dismay it angled downward, but he pressed onward with Nightmare Moon following closely. It led to an opening from which the decayed remnants of a heavy wooden door hung, propped open. They ventured out into the biggest cavern room they’d seen. A pond filled the lower reaches, embraced by a crescent-shaped bar of gravel upon which they now stood. Slanting up from the basin was another stone bridge, this one making half a spiral upward to a ledge. Nightmare Moon looked upward and pointed with her horn. “There, do you see? A glow of daylight! Somewhere up there is a shaft to the surface.” As they stared upward toward the dim light, silhouettes began to pop up on the bridge, and luminous blue eyes blinked open in the dark spaces all around the cavern. Tusk lifted his mace and growled, “There’s a lot of them. I think they mean to stop us right here. I can’t fight them all.” “You won’t have to.” Nightmare’s horn lit up, and the handful of teeth she’d collected earlier spilled out of the starry void that passed for her mane. With her magic she flung them across the ground. Where each tooth fell, a cloud of midnight blue smoke erupted, sparkling with magic. In a second the smoke cleared revealing hunched, bipedal forms. Dog-like they were, wild and wolfish in their features, with long snouts and prominent canine teeth. The splint-mail armor they wore was as cheap and nasty as the rude war clubs they clutched in their blunt-clawed hands. Tusk blinked, trying to place these beings among those he’d encountered in his many battles. “Are those… Diamond Dogs?” he muttered. Their ears were keen, as one whirled and growled. “We’re Rock Hounds, and Diamond Dogs are chew toys for us!” Nightmare Moon laughed and said, “It matters not which clan whelped them. A gnoll is a gnoll, and they are ruffians who love to fight.” She pointed up at the bridge with her hoof. “There is your enemy!” The changelings had been given pause by the sudden appearance of more foes. The gnolls yipped and waved their clubs, then lifted their heads and howled together, a sound that agitated the changelings even more. Dominus Tusk grinned, and as their howl faded he lifted his mace above his head and added his own battle cry, “HARUNA!” Then he charged toward the base of the stone bridge, and the gnolls followed, barking with eagerness for a rumble. A changeling, larger than most and wearing dull metal armor, leapt from the bridge and called out some command, or battle cry, in a hideous and corrupted language that only changelings could ever pronounce or understand. The rest of the swarm poured out of their hiding places then, and the battle was on. Gnolls are also underground dwellers, and they were not inconvenienced at all by the dim light or the enclosed spaces of the cavern. Aside from their armored commander, the changelings were not strong fighters, but they had strength of numbers on their side — and another trick. Green flames flared around the chamber, casting eerie shadows as changelings transformed, spreading confusion. Some others used magic to steal the weapons away from incautious gnolls. The chaotic fray spilled across the cavern with gnolls fighting changelings, gnolls fighting gnolls, gnolls fighting minotaurs, minotaurs fighting ponies, and even a few changelings fighting changelings until their commander broke it up, cursing profusely in insectile gibberish as he thumped their heads. Clearly these weren’t the brightest bunch around. Meanwhile, the agile Nightmare Moon dodged and danced amongst the combatants, casting bolts of magic from her horn. One spell reversed the transformations; this she wielded freely, zapping many disguised changelings (and more than a few actual gnolls, who yelped with startled pain), but there were always more of the creatures transforming. With another spell she freed gnolls who’d been caught in sticky green resin. Dominus Tusk easily dispatched a few foes, but then lost his footing and slipped into a waist-deep, watery pit that he had overlooked in the chaos. Too busy fighting to immediately climb out, he swung his mace at a changeling in front of him while another combatant hammered, to little effect, on the plate armor that covered his back. It was not a good place to be; unable to close distance with his opponent, he could only hold the changeling at bay. It cast a spell, which he blocked with his mace, and he yelled, “A little help here!” A gnoll tackled the changeling, and Tusk spun around to deal with the one that had been pounding on his back. His mace connected with another gnoll, and for a moment he feared he’d just clobbered an ally, but green flames flared around the gnoll as it fell, and a stunned changeling was revealed. Tusk turned again, just in time to see the first gnoll gored as a changeling rammed its curved horn into his belly. The gnoll’s body erupted in a blue cloud of magic, a reprise of the spell that had summoned it, and a smoldering, charred tooth fell to the ground where the gnoll had stood an instant before. “Noi j’etat! They’re naught but phantoms,” Tusk muttered to himself. Tusk started to climb out of the pit, but fell back to a defensive position as three changelings rushed at him. He was surprised when they ignored him and hurried past, either fleeing the battle or going to reinforce another position. He started to climb out of the pit again, but more changelings approached. Again he fell back, and again they passed him by, this time going in the opposite direction. From nearby he heard Nightmare Moon laugh and yell out, “Did you see that? The bugs don’t know where to run!” He yelled back, “Do we?” He spotted her trotting towards him, her starry mane proving that she was no impostor. However, at that moment the armored changeling commander dropped between them. An emerald corona flared around his horn as he faced Nightmare Moon. Her horn began to glow blue, but her counter-spell was too slow, and the changeling’s magic hit her full-force. She reared back, eyes wide as the powerful dweomer took hold, and it filled her eyes with a sickly green glow. She slumped then, the life seeming to go out of her while the changeling stalked toward her. Cursing under his breath, Tusk unwrapped the mace’s strap from his wrist and gave it a heave. His aim was true as it smashed into the changeling commander’s helmet, knocking him a glancing blow and breaking his spell. It’s effects did not dissipate instantly, though, as Nightmare moon remained senseless and ensorcelled. Dominus Tusk scrambled out of the muddy hole while the changeling commander tried to shake off the stars that whirled around his dented helmet. He came to his wits just in time to intercept Tusk. The changeling took a battle stance and hissed, baring his fangs, while a green aura flickered to life around his horn. Tusk glared back, but then suddenly yelled at his foe, “Hey! Have you met the twins?” The changeling arched a confused eyebrow. Tusk raised his fists. “Nighty and Night!” He slammed the bug with a brutal one-two punch, knocking it flat to the ground. Grinning, Tusk took just a moment to plant a kiss on each of the twins before he ran to retrieve his weapon. Nightmare Moon shook her head, clearing the mental fog that the commander’s spell had induced. She felt Dominus Tusk place his hand on her shoulder and heard him ask, “Are you all right?” She nodded and glanced around the chamber. It was littered with changeling casualties, while others were being dragged away, though a few gnolls were still on their feet and raising hell. “Now’s our chance to make a break for it,” Tusk said, and he pointed at the bridge. “Follow me!” He charged up the bridge, knocking changelings aside while Nightmare Moon cast spells to fend off the few changelings that tried to harry them from the air. At the upper end of the stone bridge they found a ledge that led through another passage, but their sensitive eyes could already see a glow of daylight filtering in from the far end. Racing to the exit, they found it opened into the side of a crater-like depression, upwards of forty yards across, most likely a long-ago collapsed sinkhole with green grass in the basin surrounded by stone walls. Nightmare Moon grinned at the sight of open sky, and she immediately spread her wings. She looked to Dominus Tusk and asked, “Are you up for a flight?” He glanced at her back and blushed. “You mean… ride on you? but Princess, I… that just isn’t done!” He fidgeted, suddenly seeming more nervous than he ever had during battle. She laughed out loud, an outburst of genuine mirth, and picked him up with her magic. “Don’t be a baby! Put your arms around my neck!” She plunked him down upon her back and released him. With his eyes wide bordering on panic, hesitantly, he started to lean forward and reach around her neck. A high pitched sound caused him to look upward. There was a flare of bright green magic coming down from the sky. Nightmare Moon saw it too, and gasped as she dodged sideways, but she was caught in the blast that followed. Tusk was knocked off her back and tumbled on the grass. He bounced back to his feet, unhurt, and saw a crater with dust or smoke billowing from it. A dark shape moved in the cloud, but in a moment it emerged, a changeling climbing out of the crater. Tusk gripped his weapon, but another high-pitched whine sounded from above. Glancing upward he saw another changeling hovering, at least 70 yards up, with a bright green glow building around it. Dark shapes speckled the sky: more changelings ascending to positions from which they could strike. Nightmare Moon yelled a warning, “Tusk, duck!” He dived aside just in time, as the changeling dive-bombed like a green meteor, smashing another crater just where the minotaur had stood. Above, more changelings were beginning to glow. Tusk found himself grabbed again by a deep blue aura. “We have to get away now. Hang on tight!” Nightmare Moon commanded as she plunked him onto her back once more. He clutched desperately at her neck, and she launched herself with a strong kick. She gritted her teeth and flapped furiously to clear the stone cliff and get out of the basin. She was among the strongest of flyers, but her powers of flight came from the same reserve of energy as her spells, and there wasn’t a lot left after the battle. The minotaur’s weight only made matters worse. Another magical dive-bombing attack flashed past almost in front of her: a near-miss, but close enough that she flinched and instinctively tried to turn away, losing a wingbeat and precious altitude. Her hooves clattered on a flat slab of limestone that formed the edge of the cliff top. She got her hooves under her and, with a strained grunt, kicked off into the air again. As she cleared the scrubby trees that surrounded the basin, she looked around and tried to get her bearings. Some weather-beaten buildings and a dirt track were close by: the same grubby hill village where she’d been captured. Huffing for all the air she could gulp, she turned toward the west and tried to gain as much speed and altitude as she could. The buzz of changeling wings grew as more joined the chase. They had the advantage of altitude, and the whine of charging spells signaled their continuing attacks. It would seem they had difficulty hitting a moving target — but there were enough close calls, and enough changelings gunning for them, that eventually one of them was going to get lucky. Try as she might, Nightmare Moon couldn’t outfly them or gain altitude with a burly minotaur astride her back. For his own part, Dominus Tusk watched the pursuing swarm with gritted teeth, all too aware that he was out of his element, a mere burden. He spotted a changeling charging its dive-bomb attack, aimed straight at them. As it flashed downward, something in his gut told him this one wasn’t going to miss. Without a thought, his reactions honed in battle, he swung his mace around and upward with both hands. A jolt shot through his arms when the head of the mace connected, and the changeling was batted away, leaving a comet-like green trail as it tumbled out of control. Tusk laughed out loud and waved his mace in the air. “Did you see that? HARUNA!” Nightmare Moon could barely manage anything like a laugh while still gasping for breath, straining to fly, but she tossed her head. The swarming changelings had seen it too. No more of them tried to dive-bomb, and soon they broke off their pursuit and turned back toward the caverns. Nightmare Moon flew on just a little further, until she found a sheltered place to land beside a grove of oaks. The minotaur hopped off her back and waited for her to catch her breath. When she was able to speak, she said to him, “Dominus Tusk, you have proved your mettle! Doubt not the honors and fortune you shall enjoy after my coronation as Queen of Equestria!” He grinned back. “Why, Princess… I should be thanking you. I wouldn’t have missed this party for anything.” Then he blinked in puzzlement and looked at his hands. “I seem to be fading.” She smiled and said, “You are waking up. You’ve had a long and busy night, my friend. I shall continue my journey, and see you again when next you sleep and dream.” Changelings buzzed nervously around the storage chamber, moving erratically, uncertain what to do with themselves. They gathered around the prone form of their queen, some sniffing, others prodding her lightly. One nudged a small bowl of royal jelly close to her snout, in hope that the scent might entice her to stir. Another placed its hooves on her withers and shook her gently, and pleaded, “Wake up, Your Highness! Please… My Queen, please wake up!” More changelings filtered into the chamber from time to time, to give their reports or receive new orders, but the slumbering queen would not hear their reports and had no orders for them, so they joined the confused, fearful, milling throng. Some began taking down cocooned ponies from the ceiling and moving them elsewhere, clearing more space around the queen. Eventually she stirred, and her eyes fluttered open. The changelings around her drew back, giving her room as she sluggishly sat upright. She spoke hesitantly, softly, “uhh… I had the most wonderful dream.” Then she looked around and narrowed her eyes. “What are you all doing here?” Half a dozen changelings spoke at once. She winced and demanded, “Quiet!” Then she pointed with a hoof. “Gribble! Tell me what has happened!” “We found you unconscious here, and we couldn’t wake you. The prisoner, the black pony, has escaped! She somehow summoned allies, and we’ve been fighting them through the tunnels. Many changelings are hurt. They’ve reached the surface, but we’re trying to recapture them. They’ve… uhh… My Queen? Are you all right? What’s happened to your eyes?” Her eyes were still green, but no longer featureless orbs; they’d developed slit pupils like a dragon’s eyes. She seemed unaware, annoyed by the question. “There’s nothing wrong with my eyes. I see more clearly than ever.” She focused them on Gribble. “Let the black pony go!” Gribble fidgeted. “Let her go? I don’t understand?” “We don’t need her, and I have more important concerns. I’ve seen a most wondrous new vision of my destiny.” She stood upright and looked around at her gathered swarm. “I saw that I am destined to rule — not over this dim netherworld, but over the pony nation of Equestria. From this day forth, our efforts shall all be bent toward its conquest.” Confused changelings frowned, looked to one another to see if any of them knew what she meant. Gribble said, “Equestria? Your Highness, Equestria is in the waking world! How can we even get there?” The queen frowned and muttered, “There must be a way.” There was silence for a moment as they all waited for her to elaborate. Then her frown faded, and she spoke more clearly, “The Doorways in the Mist! One of them must lead to Equestria. We just have to find it.” Gribble ventured, “But there are hundreds of doorways, and no one knows where they lead. Many of them go to horrible places where we could never survive or return from.” The queen shrugged. “Hmm, yes. I suppose it may take a while. I can be patient. If I send through enough changelings, eventually one of them will find the doorway to Equestria.” Those around her looked to one another again, with drooping ears and worry written on their faces. The minotaur Iron Will took a sip of coffee, then set down his mug (bearing the caption: “Everyone Is Entitled To My Opinion”) and glanced at the newspaper again. Apparently a baby dragon had grown to monstrous size in a small town called Ponyville and briefly wreaked havoc before it was brought under control. They’d even called out the Wonderbolts to deal with it. Hmm… He’d never been to Ponyville, but it wasn’t too far out from Canterlot, and it did have a train station. He had a tour of assertiveness seminars in the planning stage. Maybe he should add that town to the schedule. His train of thought was broken when Elsie set down a platter of pancakes on the kitchen table. He set aside the paper and spared a fond glance at her bovine face, so much gentler than his own. “Thanks, honey!” he said gruffly (which, to be fair, was the only way he ever said anything). He began shuffling pancakes over onto his plate. Elsie smiled and glanced over her shoulder at their home’s stairwell. She called up it, “Little Will! Are you coming down? Your breakfast will get cold.” From upstairs came the muffled answer, “I’ll be right there, Mama!” True enough, in a few moments a minotaur boy with deep red pelt came bounding down the stairs. “Slow down!” she admonished him. “What’s got you so excited?” He hopped into his chair and started scooping up pancakes. “I had another dream last night. It was awesome. I was Dominus Tusk, victor of ten thousand battles, and I got to rescue a princess from a bunch of evil changelings.” Elsie giggled softly and tousled his hair with her hand. She noticed the tiny nubs where his horns would grow in. “What a vivid imagination! Iron, did you buy him more of those lurid comic books?” Iron Will cleared his throat, which sounded a bit like shaking a bucket of gravel. “Well now… A few comic books never hurt anyone. They’re educational.” He sneaked a wink to his son, who grinned back.