XIV. Honeytrap
A burning beam of white light stabbed through the gaps in the forest canopy overhead and forced Rarity’s heavy eyelids open. Was it morning already? No, that was impossible. The light was shining down from directly overhead, and Rarity knew that she could not have slept straight through to midday. After a few seconds, the beam abruptly pulled away and turned its piercing gaze on another patch of jungle, plunging Rarity back into darkness and confirming that it was still night. As she hurried to chase the fog out of her brain, she became aware of a low thrumming sound, coupled to vibrations powerful enough that she could feel them in her hooves and her teeth. She looked up to find the source of the light and sound. Icy fear gripped her, and she immediately crouched down low in the shadows as she recognized the monstrous griffon airship steaming overhead, its searchlights carving apart the darkness.
It was hunting her.
The griffons must have gone looking for the missing patrol and found them, learning in the process that that she and Blueblood were still alive and trying to find a way back to Equestria. Now they were out in force, scouring the jungle. Was she safe here? Rarity had to believe that even sharp-eyed griffons wouldn’t be able to find them amidst the tangled vines and dense foliage. Glancing to her side, she saw Blueblood still resting limply against the tree, fast asleep. In his feverish state, she doubted that she could even wake him if she tried. They would not be able to flee if they were spotted, so the only available course of action was to keep still while the floating leviathan passed overhead.
Once again a powerful searchlight beam swept over and Rarity froze. She dared to look up at the lumbering battleship for any sign that the hunters were closing in on their prey, but it still appeared that the lights were randomly sweeping the area while the airship slowly plied the night sky. Somewhere along the side of the craft Rarity thought she saw a momentary flash of light; perhaps it had even come from within. She wondered what it might have been.
Even as she contemplated the flash, she began to felt a painful tightness building in her head, like a balloon being overinflated. The pressure continued to increase, and she threw a hoof to her temple to try to massage away the pain, but the sensation only grew worse. She realized that she was now located in a pool of dim blue light, the glow from her horn. She tried to stop the spellcasting, but no amount of concentration seemed to abate the glow, nor could she even figure out what magic she was employing. She ducked further into the shadows and tried to cover her horn with both forelegs, lest the characteristic aura guide the griffons straight to her. Continuing to try to stop the spell only resulted in agonizing pain, like knives cutting into the base of her horn. She gave up the effort and decided to merely hope against hope that the searchers failed to see her.
Fortunately, the lights above did not turn their focus back to her. Instead, all of the searchlights on the griffon warship suddenly extinguished at once, causing Rarity to blink in surprise. Even more strange was the fact that it now seemed that in the absence of the lights, the entire enormous airship was imbued with a dim glow that outlined its bulk in a diffuse shine. The glowing white light grew steadily in brightness as the pain in Rarity’s skull increased in tandem. It felt as though the light was calling to her, and Rarity finally recognized the sensation. It was a more powerful incarnation of her gem-finding spell than she had ever felt before. She knew of only one gem that could affect her this way.
The Heavenstone was up there, still on that ship, and it was resonating from its reaction to her spell. That magical resonance was what was causing the airship to glow, she was sure of it. More worrisome was the additional fact that something about the connection between her and the legendary gem was causing a magical buildup in her horn, terrifying in intensity and brutally painful. It threatened to overwhelm her; she feared it could even kill her. Rarity fought against the urge to cry out in pain, but she wouldn’t be able to hold out for much longer. Then, for an instant, the griffon airship was lit so brightly that the dark of night was completely washed away and replaced by an otherworldly incandescence. Rarity gave a pathetic squeal and then gasped as all the pressure in her head was released at once. Her horn flared to life with all the radiance of a miniature sun, and a half-second later, the world went dark.
When Rarity opened her eyes she found herself surrounded by darkness again, and lying flat on her back. The ground beneath her felt curiously soft, and it shifted with every slight movement of her body. She sat up with a start, realizing that she was not lying on the forest floor at all, but rather a soft mattress covered in blankets. More strange than the unexpected change of scene was the overwhelming sensation of familiarity. She knew this bed, and this place, and the smell of potpourri in the air. She swung her rear legs over the edge of the bed and onto plush carpet. Everything was familiar. It felt like … home. Rarity explored the darkness with her magic, looking for the kerosene lamp that she expected to find on the nightstand beside the bed. It was exactly where it had always been, and she struck a match from the adjacent matchbox to ignite the lamp’s wick and bring light to the room.
As the familiar feel of her old quilted blanket and the unchanged placement of the lamp had already told her, she was somehow, incredibly, impossibly, seated on the edge of her bed in her own bedroom back in Ponyville. It was not her elegant master suite back at Carousel Boutique; this was the room she had grown up in, at her parents’ home. There was her bookcase filled with old Foal-sitters Club and Detective Nosy Dare novels, and a shelf of the grownup romances she had taken to in in the last years before she struck out of her own. On top of the bookcase her prized collection of Equestrian Filly dolls, all wearing outfits that Rarity had designed and created on her own, posed like fashion models putting on their own show. Her old Cuteceañera dress, which she had been so proud of making, was displayed on the wall in a decorative shadowbox. She had eventually come to realize that adding so many gems that she could barely walk did not necessarily equate to creative brilliance, but the outrageously bedazzled blue dress still held a special place in her heart. Her parents had left the room practically unaltered since after she left, and Sweetie Belle treated it almost like a shrine to her older sister.
All of it seemed so real, right down to the stacks of Glamare, Filly Trend, and La Jument fashion magazines on the nightstand, and the posters of models prancing down catwalks in the haute couture of her favorite designers. As much as her heart yearned for home, and as much as she wanted to wrap Sweetie Belle in her forelegs and remind her parents how much she loved them, Rarity knew that this vision was not - could not be - reality. This was a dream, and she needed to wake up so that she could get to safety and find Blueblood the flower he needed to survive. She rapped a hoof lightly against the side of her head to try to snap herself back to the jungle, but nothing changed. A harder tap proved similarly ineffective. What could she do if she couldn’t wake up from this fantasy? Rarity paused. Muffled voices could be heard through the closed door. There was no reason not to investigate, as long as she was stuck here.
Rarity slipped out of bed and onto all four legs. She walked over to her old bedroom door and tentatively pushed it open, flooding the room with brighter light from the gas lamps in the upstairs hallway. Oddly, the door glowed with blue light when she opened it, as if she had performed the act with magic, despite the fact that she had physically pushed it with her right foreleg. Out in the hall, it was apparent that the voices were coming from downstairs, and it sounded like somepony was crying miserably as well.
Sweetie Belle! Rarity raced downstairs toward the sound of her sister’s cries, only to skid to a halt a scant few hooves before crashing into the backside of a very large pony standing in her parents’ kitchen, a backside complete with a flowing ephemeral tail of shimmering pastels.
“Princess Celestia!” Rarity exclaimed, shocked, before reflexively dropping into a respectful kneeling bow. She held the pose for several seconds, but stood up when the Princess failed to acknowledge her or even turn around. Confused, Rarity trotted into the middle of the kitchen and took stock of her surroundings. Her father occupied a seat at the kitchen table, his face pointed down and buried in his forehooves. Her mother stood facing Celestia, her hair unkempt and eyes bloodshot. She had been crying, but was clearly struggling to put on a brave face for the Princess. Sweetie Belle rested on their mother’s back, clinging to her with all four hooves, her face buried in the mare’s mane. Rarity’s heart ached upon seeing that her little sister was crying uncontrollably, the sobs punctuated every few seconds by a heartrending wail of grief.
“Sweetie! What is it?” Rarity asked, racing over to her sister. As before, nopony acknowledged her, as if she was not present at all. She wasn't. She had to get a grip and remember that this was a dream.
“Once again, please accept my deepest condolences,” Princess Celestia said to her mother. “If there is anything that I or my sister can do, any resources that you would like made available during this difficult time, please do not hesitate to ask. I … I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Rarity’s mother said, and attempted to bow. She was not halfway to the ground when her body spasmed, wracked by anguished gasps. Rarity watched as Princess Celestia awkwardly stepped forward and slowly unfolded one of her majestic, elegant wings, which she then draped over her mother and Sweetie Belle.
“I am always here for you, my little ponies,” she said. “Never forget that.” Rarity could scarcely believe it, but a single tear formed in the corner of Celestia’s eye, before the Princess quickly blinked it away.
Rarity finally understood what this was. She was having a vision of her family receiving word that she had perished during the race. It was small wonder that she would dream of this scene, for it was very much on her mind. Back in the real world, it was probably about this time that word had made its way back to Canterlot and the core cities about the disaster that had befallen the regatta. The race officials, media, and remaining teams would have spent the first several hours searching before sending word home. Given the long distance, it would have taken well over a full day for the Princess to learn the news and, in this dream at least, she had then gone to personally notify her parents. Rarity chalked that detail up to unconscious vanity.
“Mother, father, darling Sweetie, I’m right here,” she whispered softly, trying not to be overcome with emotion herself. She knew this wasn’t real, and that nopony could hear her, but it felt necessary to say the words, to object to these unnecessary tears. She had to make it back, if not for Equestria’s sake, then for her family’s.
Suddenly, her attention was drawn away by a loud crash and raised voices coming from the den. Rarity would have recognized Rainbow Dash’s brash tone half a league away, but at the moment her friend was much closer. She quickly ran out of the kitchen and through the dining room to find the angry-sounding pegasus. What was Rainbow Dash doing in her parents’ house, anyway? To her surprise, Rarity found not just Rainbow, but all five of her best friends occupying the den.
“This isn’t fair! This isn’t right!” Rainbow Dash shouted, hovering above a wooden rocking chair that she had obviously kicked onto its side. Meanwhile, Twilight Sparkle paced back and forth in front of the fireplace, a glazed look on her face. Pinkie Pie was curled into a fetal position in another rocking chair. The normally bouncy, untamed curls of her mane now hung straight and lifeless, obscuring her face. Fluttershy and Applejack occupied the sofa, with the daffodil yellow pegasus resting her head against the orange-coated farmer’s side. Fluttershy was still quietly crying, and Applejack had one strong foreleg securely wrapped around her.
“Yellin’ and kickin’ over other ponies’ furniture ain’t gonna change anything, Rainbow,” Applejack said sternly. “Settle down now afore ya make things even worse than they already are.”
“Worse?” Rainbow Dash exclaimed. “How could things possibly get any worse than this? We should have been there! We should never have let her go off with those strange ponies by herself.”
“Rarity was a big girl, Rainbow. She could take care of herself,” said Applejack.
“Except when she couldn’t!” the pegasus yelled. She pounded a hoof against the wall in frustration, causing a small flurry of plaster flakes to rain down.
“I just don’t understand,” Twilight Sparkle said, causing the others to turn in her direction. She continued to pace without looking up, and it was apparent to Rarity that the other unicorn was talking only to herself. She spoke in a rapid, breathless staccato. “Rarity represented the spirit of the Element of Generosity. There are supposed to be six Elements. How can there only be five Elements? It’s impossible, of course. There have to be six, not five - six! With only five Elements, there might as well be zero Elements. If there are zero Elements, that would mean that we must not be connected to the Elements of Harmony anymore, but I didn’t feel my connection to the Elements break? Did you girls? No, of course you didn’t, because if I didn’t, you didn’t. Haha.”
“Now simmer down, Sally,” Applejack began. “We’re here for Sweetie and her folks, not to get wrapped up worryin’ about the Elements.”
“Huh?” Twilight Sparkle stopped pacing and turned toward her friend. “No, you don’t understand!” She walked toward Applejack wearing a large and not altogether sane-looking grin. “I think Rarity is still alive.”
“Yes! Yes I am!” Rarity exclaimed, thrilled that her friend had figured it out. Of course, nopony so much as glanced in her direction, and of course, all of this was a dream. It was a particularly vivid and complex dream, but still a dream. She had to remember that.
“Oh get real, Twilight,” said Rainbow Dash. “You heard Princess Celestia. Rarity fell out of an airship, and unless somepony taught her how to fly and didn’t tell me about it, she’s gone. G-O-N-E gone.”
“I don’t think so, girls,” Twilight Sparkle replied, shaking her head. “The Elements are all connected, but more than that, I know now that we six shared a connection since long before we met. If Rarity was truly … gone, then I think we would have felt it.”
Pinkie Pie peered out from behind her limp hair. “Well, I didn’t want to say, but my tail was twitching all day yesterday, like stuff was falling, but then nothing did. What if my Pinkie Sense was telling me about Rarity?”
“Did you have a double tail twitch, knee pinch, belly-flip, itchy nose, eye-flutter?” Twilight Sparkle asked.
“Nope,” Pinkie Pie replied.
“And isn’t that your combo that tells you that something really sad is about to happen?”
“Oh. Um, last time I checked?” Pinkie Pie replied questioningly.
“A-ha! That proves it, Rarity is still out there somewhere, alive,” Twilight Sparkle proclaimed triumphantly. "You can't argue with science!"
“Now just hold on one pony-pickin’ minute!” Applejack said, gently pushing Fluttershy aside and standing up. “I'm just as fond of Rarity as all the rest of y’all, but Pinkie’s twitchin’ and your mystical hunches ain’t gonna bring her back. Get ahold of yourself, Twilight, and accept that this is really happening.”
“I don’t know,” Fluttershy whispered. “What if Twilight is right?”
“Ugh! Not you too!” exclaimed Rainbow Dash, throwing her forelegs up in the air. “She’s dead, okay? Rarity is dead, and we’re never going to see her ever again.” Rainbow Dash crashed down to the ground in a heap and began to cry. It was truly a pathetic sight, perhaps even sadder for Rarity than seeing her own family in tears. Rainbow Dash simply did not cry.
This was ridiculous. Why wouldn’t this vision end? Better to be back amongst the bugs, blood, and griffons than to endure any more of this torment. But how could she return? Nothing she had tried had managed to awaken her yet. Desperate, Rarity walked over to Applejack and tried a gentle touch to get the other mare’s attention. Instead, Rarity watched her hoof pass through Applejack’s body like it was empty air. She needed to try something else. Absent-mindedly, she magically righted the chair that Rainbow Dash had kicked over. All this disorganized chaos and clutter was making it hard to think straight.
“Whoa Nelly! What just happened?” Applejack asked.
“Th-that was you, right Twilight?” Fluttershy questioned.
“Uh, no, that wasn’t me,” Twilight Sparkle said, staring suspiciously at the chair.
Rarity’s eyes opened wide as she realized the implications of what had just happened. She moved the chair, and they had all seen it happen. What if this was not a dream at all? What if, somehow, her consciousness had magically made the journey to Ponyville and left her body behind? The why and how mattered little, but perhaps it was due to her connection to the Elements, as Twilight had suggested. It explained so much, like why she only seemed able to affect her surroundings with magic and not physical touch. The others couldn’t see her, hear her, or feel her, because she was not physically present, but they could observe her magic at work. She only needed to find a quill and some ink, and she could tell them exactly where she was and what had befallen her. They could send help!
A searing pain in her horn forced Rarity to the ground. The pressure was building in her skull again, just as had happened before she appeared in her old bedroom.
“No, no! I can’t go back now! I need more time!” she pleaded. The pain was increasing in intensity even faster than before. She had only seconds now. Ideas and memories raced through her mind as she tried to think of anything to do that could make her friends understand her plight.
“Wow, do you girls feel that?” Twilight Sparkle asked, glancing around the room. “It’s like an intense magical charge is building in here, but I can’t tell where it is.”
Twilight! That was it! Rarity remembered that when Discord had stripped her and her friends of their defining qualities and left them as mirror-image husks of the true selves, Twilight Sparkle had used a memory spell to remind them all of their friendship and bring them back from the brink. She had no idea how to cast mental magic of that sort, but perhaps Twilight would nevertheless understand what she was trying to do. She crossed the distance between herself and Twilight Sparkle in a single bound and lowered her horn to touch the other unicorn’s.
Twilight’s eyes went wide with shock, and Rarity hoped the magical surge building within her did not hurt her friend. This was her only chance.
“Twilight, please, I’m here,” Rarity implored. She focused all of her effort and energy on trying to impart her thoughts to her friend, but she had no idea if anything was happening. She gritted her teeth, ignoring the pain even though it felt like her head was going to explode. How was this ridiculous spell supposed to work?
“Rarity?” Twilight Sparkle whispered, staring straight into her eyes.
Bright light obscured her vision, and then everything went dark again.
“Rarity!” Blueblood said loudly, nudging her shoulder with a forehoof.
“Huh?” She blinked a few times, and found that she was back in the sweltering, infinite jungle, lying against a tree, with Blueblood slouched next to her. The sun was beginning to rise, and the griffon airship was gone. It was a small miracle they hadn’t seen her with the light show her horn had created, though perhaps the glow from the Heavenstone had temporarily blinded them. In any case, she was awake, and still alive.
“You have been practically comatose ever since I awakened. That must have been two hours ago,” Blueblood said. “You haven’t moved a muscle until now, and there were moments where I was convinced you had stopped breathing.”
“Ah yes, well, I am now awake, and I feel perfectly fine, thank you. I must have simply been sleeping very soundly.”
Hours? The bizarre out of body experience had only seemed like a few minutes to her. Perhaps her body had needed the extra time to recover from the sheer intensity of the magical energy that had discharged through her horn. In any case, she did not want to explain the fantastic circumstances of her mental voyage to Ponyville to Blueblood. For one thing, he would not believe her. More importantly, she had no idea whether she had managed to impart anything useful at all to Twilight. There was no point in raising Blueblood’s hopes when that hope was probably a vain one.
“I see that your fever has broken,” she said with a small smile. The stallion was no picture of health, but the fact that he was conscious and apparently lucid was a good sign. Even though the infection was likely still spreading, this recovery from the fever indicated that he had not yet fallen into full-blown sepsis, and the infection had not reached his brain. If it had, he might not be able to recover no matter what medicine was available. In this case, the nearest hospital was hundreds of leagues away, and Rarity was relying on a magical flower and medical knowledge she had learned through idle chitchat at the spa from a pegasus land steward who moonlighted as an unlicensed veterinarian. The fever breaking was a very good thing.
“Yes. Somehow I am still alive, though I have felt better,” Blueblood replied. “Between the weakness, dizziness, and headaches from the infection, and the wound in my side. I will not be able to walk far. Certainly not back to Equestria. I was only able to make it here yesterday because I was operating on pure adrenaline.”
“I know,” Rarity said.
“Then you are planning to move on alone?”
“What? Do you not remember anything from last night?” Rarity asked in consternation.
“I remember falling asleep in a fog.”
“No,” Rarity shook her head. “The flower. The Badge of Courage orchid.”
“The race marker?”
Rarity rolled her eyes. “Really, now. It was your delusional ramblings last night that led me to learn that the Badge of Courage should be able to heal your injuries, if only I can find one.”
Blueblood stared back at her in surprise. “Heal?” He screwed up his eyes as if cogitating hard about something. “Now that I think about it, I do remember reading something about the flower’s medicinal value. Still, there is simply no way that I am going to be able to traipse through the jungle looking for one in my present condition, especially if the reward is just some kind of tropical salve.”
“It should be more than a salve,” Rarity replied. “Based on the description, the Badge of Courage is intensely magical. I believe that if you consume this flower, it will heal your wounds and completely remove the infection.”
Blueblood displayed even more amazement. “Really?” His face fell. “But I still don’t have the strength to search for it.”
“Of course not,” Rarity said. “That is why I am going to do it, while you wait here for my triumphant return.”
The stallion gave her a critical look. “Of course you are,” he said disbelievingly. “Look, I appreciate the attempt to make your leaving easier on me, but I understand what must be done. You must escape to Equestria. I know that. Besides, by staying here I am carrying on a proud family tradition of perishing prematurely. Perhaps then, at least, I might be remembered, if not fondly, then at least not aversely.”
“Oh brother, again with the melodrama?" Rarity rolled her eyes. "It seems you really are feeling better. You know, last night you seemed a different pony. Open, honest, and the brave face you wore did not seem to be for show. Then, half-mad with fever, you wanted to live and you told me how to save you. And now ... what? You are playing the poor, unfortunate noblestallion card so that I might feel too guilty to leave you behind? This jungle is only big enough for one drama queen, Your Grace.”
“You needn’t snip. I was merely letting you know that I understand the reality of the situation.”
“The reality is that I mean what I say,” Rarity stated. “I will return with the flower, and then we shall both leave this awful jungle.”
“If you mean that, then I must know why,” Blueblood said. "Why would you risk your life searching for some flower, and then backtracking Celestia knows how many leagues to me, so that we can start off again with half the supplies we need.”
Rarity touched the yellow sheet wrapped around the stallion’s torso, careful to stay away from the musket wound. “I owe you. You have saved my life twice, and I have returned the favor only once.”
“The problem with keeping score on saving each other’s lives is that each time one of us gets ahead, we must then be put in mortal peril again for the score to be evened. I am not sure that it is worth it.”
“Then consider saving your life a gift,” said Rarity. “Am I not the bearer of the Element of Generosity?”
“Well, to be perfectly honest, I always figured that it was some sort of cosmic irony that a businesspony represented generosity. How can one succeed in the marketplace without being driven by self-interest? Perhaps that explains my skepticism.”
“Who says that I am not motivated by self-interest?” Rarity rejoined testily. “I am interested in making beautiful things. It is my talent and my passion. Some ponies buy them from me, and others get them as gifts. I receive enough bits to stay in business, and more besides, and I am happy. My self-interest is in happiness and a purposeful life, not money. A lot of ponies confuse the two, much as they confuse generosity and selflessness.”
“And you are not a selfless pony.”
“Not hardly. I give of myself and my possessions because I want to and because I can.”
“And you want to find this flower, for me. Because you can.”
“If nothing else, it would seem a shame to allow your brother to inherit the title of Prince Blueblood if it can be avoided,” Rarity replied, raising one eyebrow.
“It would at that.” Blueblood sighed and smiled faintly. “Let’s look at the map, then, shall we?” .
She retrieved the map that she had appropriated from the griffons and spread it out on the ground. She now knew how to recognize the iconography depicting the swaths of jungle that had been mapped, and how to find the river where they had been before, but she had no idea where she was currently located, or how to get from here to any other desired point.
“Finally I can find out what that cutie mark of yours is good for,” she said. “Now, tell me where I can find that flower and how to get there. It supposedly grows in marshes and swamps throughout the jungle.”
Blueblood used a forehoof to trace a line a short distance upward from the river. “We are here, or very close. It looks like the griffons have marked swampland with drawings of lilypads, as you see here.” He indicated an area to the right, or east, Rarity reminded herself. It was very close to the depiction of the foreboding structure that Blueblood had guessed was the griffons’ base of operations.
“Um, is there nothing in the opposite direction from those dreadful griffons?”
Blueblood shook his head. “The next closest option would be to head northwest and try to find the botanist who is researching these things. Her cottage, however, is perhaps two full days’ journey from here on hoof, through the jungle. You would be able to reach this swamp in four or five hours.”
“The guide explained that the flower is only potent for six hours after being picked,” Rarity said. She didn't add that Blueblood had almost no chance of surviving four more days. “It would seem I have no choice but to go toward the griffons.”
“Actually, you have a very easy choice. Go straight northeast and make for Gallopoli and then home. Stop the conspirators. Save the world again.”
“Not alone,” Rarity said. “Not while you are still alive and I can save you.”
Blueblood sighed. “I won’t say that I’m not worth it, but I want to make doubly sure you realize that there’s not much in this for you. I suppose some small monetary award can be arranged, should I survive, but it would seem crass to outright pay you for saving me.”
“Would you stick a hoof in it, already? I already explained why I want do do this, and I won’t do so again. I aim to save your life, whether you like it or not.”
“Simply because you want to.”
“I already said that,” Rarity grumbled. “Are you quite sure that you are all together in there?”
“I am just trying to decipher your motivations. I have not been particularly charming or kind to you. I would hesitate to call us friends.”
“That is because we aren’t.” said Rarity. “Especially not now. You are acting like an insecure schoolcolt, and I would be grateful if you would just get on with helping me figure out how to read the map and find that flower. It is in both of our interests that I leave as soon as possible.”
“Fine. You’ll need this.” Blueblood, wincing from the strain, levitated his compass from around his neck and placed it around Rarity’s. Due to its long cord and her more slender build, the directional instrument hung far down, well past the Gallopolian pearl strand. As soon as Blueblood released his hold on the device, she used her own magic to suspend it in her field of view. She had seen compasses before, and this one was no different. It displayed cardinal directions, and was graduated with markings for the other degrees of a circle. The red end of the two-sided needle always pointed north. It would be a simple matter to stop moving, rotate the outer bezel so that the red needle pointed to the red “N,” and figure out which direction she was headed based on that information.
Blueblood lowered his horn and tapped it against the compass before Rarity had the presence of mind to drop it. and the confluence of her magic and his sent a shiver down her spine. Crossing spells always did that to her. If Blueblood was affected, he didn’t show it.
“I do know a few spells that are especially useful for orienteering,” he said. “That was a simple 'Back to the Beginning' spell. I enchanted the compass so that if you tap it with your hoof it will no longer point north, but rather will point toward its enchanter - me. That way, once you get the flower you can travel straight to me without fear of getting lost. Tap it again to turn it back to its normal functionality.”
“That could be useful, unless it turns out that there is a leech and serpent-infested pond, or a camp of griffons, between us. Your spell could send me straight into danger if I simply followed the needle on a direct path back to you,” Rarity pointed out.
“I never said you wouldn't have to stay on your hoof-tips. As long as you pay attention to your surroundings, you will be fine. Probably. Actually, I have no idea.”
“Well, thank you for the compass, anyway,” Rarity said. “I plan to return before nightfall, so I should pack and then start off. As for you, try to stay put unless you absolutely have to move. You’ll have a full cask of water and most of the food. If you feel another fever coming on, tie yourself down. The last thing we need is for you to hallucinate and injure yourself even further.”
“You know, nopony has ever risked anything for me before,” Blueblood said.
“Of course I know that. I have seen how you behave,” Rarity replied. “You do not make it easy for one to want to stick her neck out for you. Fortunately, I am the very spirit of Generosity, as I keep reminding you.”
“Are you sure that this is not the spirit of pity talking? Give me one reason that I am worth saving.”
“Ugh, even half dead and you are still fishing for compliments. Incredible. Fortunately for you, you have an entire day ahead of you to come up with your own reasons why you are worth saving. I suggest you find something, because even though you have already survived quite a bit worse than most ponies expect to endure, today might be the most difficult yet as the infection worsens. I should mention that if I travel all over this jungle, only to return here to find that you have died while I was gone, I will find a way to kill you again.”
Blueblood slumped back against the tree silently, declining to speak further. It was just as well. Lucid, pitiful Blueblood did not generate the same degree of compassion as the feverish but forthright version she had the privilege of meeting last night. If she did save his life, she knew, he would be permanently back to his paradoxical mix of arrogance and self-doubt, narcissism and neurosis. It was best not to dwell on such thoughts.
Rarity began packing for her foray in search of the Badge of Courage. She emptied the remaining blankets and survival supplies from her pannier, as well as most of the food she had been carrying. Instead, she strapped one of the remaining two casks of water on one side, and kept a small amount of food on the other. She had to travel light if she wanted to make respectable time. She levitated the rum-filled coconut over toward Blueblood. It was still half full.
“Use this to clean out your wounds,” she said.
“It's rather too painful to use as an antiseptic, I've found, but I am certain I will find some use for it before the end,” Blueblood replied dryly.
“The topical application would be my preference, over the oral, at least in this case. Now, I must go.”
“You know, there is a fairly high probability that we will not see each other again.”
“There is that chance,” Rarity agreed.
“Before you go, I …” Blueblood paused, looking and sounding unsure of himself.
“What?” Rarity asked. The volume of her speech indicated the frustration that stallion was causing her. She preferred him cocksure and cavalier to this querulous defeatist. “Is there something more you’d like to say? Perhaps some last attempt to convince me to say that you are a wonderful stallion with a beautiful mind and that I absolve you of the mistakes you have made? Because I won’t. If you die here in this jungle it will be without my forgiveness, without restoring meaning to your family name, and without checking your brother’s evil ambitions. How is that for a reason to pull yourself together and make it through the day?”
Blueblood blinked twice. “Actually,” he began, drawing out the syllables, “I was going to open up my tiny, fragile little Blueblood heart to you, since I don’t expect to see you again. Fortunately, you’ve made me think better of it. Instead of asking for absolution, what if I merely say that if I had to be stranded in a remote jungle amidst hostile griffons and potential pony-eating beasts, I am grateful to have had a brave and resourceful mare like you with me? It also doesn’t hurt that you are not hard to look at. Anyway, be careful out there.”
Once again, Blueblood had surprised her. “I’ll be careful,” she promised.
“Then I look forward to dining on orchids tonight.”
“Don't count on salad dressing,” Rarity said after a too-long pause. “Now I need to go.” Without another word, she turned and began walking east.
Carrying a much lighter burden, she was able to cover ground efficiently even though she had no choice but to keep her telekinesis magic continually engaged. The forest was teeming with life, and she quickly abandoned her preference for not touching strange and creepy creatures, at least as far as touching them with magic was concerned. After an hour of slogging through the densely vegetated understory, she had completely lost track of how many bug-eyed lizards, torpid green snakes, and shimmering silk spider webs she had magicked out of her way. This experience was so far outside of her comfort zone that she might as well have been on the moon.
More worrisome than the tropical fauna was the nagging fear that she would fail to find the orchid at all. The griffons’ map could be mistaken, the flower could be far more rare than the race materials had indicated, or she could simply wander away from the course she was trying to follow due to her lack of experience. Any of these eventualities would be fatal for Blueblood.
That was another thing. Blueblood had been so infuriatingly suspicious of her motive for wanting to help him. After what they had been through already, how was it possible for him to utterly fail to understand her? It was a given that he had grown used to the idea that ponies did not lend a hoof unless they had something to gain by doing so, but Rarity was not like his family or those Canterlot ponies. What did he want her to say? That she was helping him because she found him appealing? Did he want her to profess that she was smitten by his intellect and fortitude, that his wit and charm had overcome her annoyance and frustration at his previous behavior? His egotism truly knew no bounds if he thought that two days trapped together could earn him a fresh slate.
Rarity understood the art of white lies and half-truths all too well, but she needed to be perfectly honest with herself. She did still feel butterflies in her stomach when she interacted with Blueblood. Her nearly lifelong crush could not be completely extinguished, even by turning the harsh spotlight of reality on him. He was her physical ideal: tall, strong, and regal. He was intelligent, technically if not emotionally. He had even shown hits of the dashing bravery she had always imagined. Opposing his good qualities were his foallike neediness and his unrelenting obsession with proving himself. No trait was less attractive to Rarity in a stallion than a persecution complex. Regardless of the fact that some ponies actually were out to get Blueblood, he seemed to think that all of the world actively disparaged him, when really most ponies simply did not care.
She thought back a year or more, before the Gala, and laughed. She had still believed that Blueblood was a real prince then, and was convinced that she could woo him, marry him, and fulfill her dream of becoming a princess. What an absurd fantasy for a grown mare! Even sillier, what if the Gala had not been a disaster, she and Blueblood were thereafter wed, and she became the Duchess of Canterlot? Would she really have spent a lifetime trying in vain to provide validation for Blueblood? “Woe is me, my airship design isn’t good enough.” “How shall I face the citizenry? They all think my family is a laughingstock.” “Was that good for you?” More likely, they would have been divorced within a month. So why, given all the perfectly good reasons she should never again entertain the idea of being with him, could she not stop doing it? Was there really more than the desire to erase her debt of gratitude driving this expedition?
She brushed aside another massive spider web, complete with oversized spider. Now was not the time to be preoccupied with such thoughts. She needed to tackle this quest with the single-minded determination of that treasure hunter heroine in Rainbow Dash’s pulp adventure stories. The heros and heroines in swashbuckling tales like those did not have the luxury of contemplating personality quirks and psychological inhibitions; theirs were action stories. They had villains to confront and monsters to defeat. She was in one of those stories now, and she had a prince to save. The rest could wait.
Rarity continued onward, continually referencing the map and compass to reassure herself that she was getting closer to her target. The wonders of the jungle were such that, every so often, she had to will her body forward when a particularly jewel-like butterfly, or bird with ostentatious plumage caught her eye. At the same time as she took in the beauty around her, she was all too aware that she had probably never looked worse. She was sweating profusely and her mane was a rat’s nest. Her tail was constantly working to brush off tiny biting flies. She had by now started viewing the heat and humidity as annoyances rather than threats, which she knew was dangerous at the rate she was losing fluids. It took conscious effort to remember to keep drinking from her water cask.
Strangely, the sounds of nature grew quieter as she moved on, and eventually she stopped seeing or hearing large animals like monkeys and parrots altogether. She felt uncomfortable at the change, as if she was drawing near to an evil part of the forest shunned by the rest of its inhabitants. She knew she was getting close to where the swamp should be, and that meant she was also getting close to the griffon base. She kept her ears pricked and her eyes wide open. The air itself began to change, taking on a sweet odor that reminded her of the honeysuckle growing around Sweet Apple Acres back home. It was normally an inviting fragrance, but here the smell was strange and out of place. By the time she pushed two large fern fronds out of the way and stepped into a large clearing, she was surrounded by ominous silence.
Rarity gasped at the sight in front of her. The clearing was almost entirely occupied by a pool of clear water, more than fifty pony lengths across. In the center of the pool was an island of earth approximately ten lengths in diameter, from which rose a thick branchless tree trunk with leathery bark so dark it was almost black, broken up only by blood red flecks. The air was thick with cloying sweetness, and she supposed the tree was the source. The pool and tree were not what had caused her to gasp, though. There was a tall creature standing on the island in the center of the pool next to the tree, wearing the same scarf and eye patch he had been the last time Rarity had encountered him. He stared back at her, mirroring her own look of shocked recognition.
Khufu, deposed prince of Camelon, spoke first. He called out loudly from across the pool. “What I see with my eye is impossible, true, but excellent to see! Lady Rarity lives!” He chortled happily, though the sound was rather emphysemic.
“Price Khufu,” Rarity responded, warily. She was trying, and failing, to imagine a scenario in which it made sense for him to be here in the jungle. Was the same thing creating the sweet smell in the air also causing her to see things? Was she already so dehydrated that she was hallucinating? Perhaps if she splashed some water on her face and took a drink. The pool did look awfully clean and refreshing. She took a step forward.
“Do not touch water!” the camel shouted urgently. “Keep back.”
Rarity blinked. Why had she been walking toward the water again? She felt slightly light headed. “What are you doing here?” she asked. “And what is in this air? I do not feel right.”
“I stand here because, once again, followers sentence me to die. Must truly be terrible leader,” Khufu said jovially. “Air smells sweet, yes? Water looks good to drink. Is so because you stand before a great Honeytrap tree. Its pollen makes you want to drink of its nectar.”
“Honeytrap?” Rarity repeated.
“Smells like honey, but is trap,” Khufu said. “This tree lives on flesh, not sunlight. Eats birds, animals, ponies, griffons, even camel who unlucky enough to drink from its nectar pool.”
Rarity recoiled. “A meat-eating tree? How horrifying! But why are you standing next to it?”
“Griffons carry me out here. Their base not far. I cannot leave without touching the water, and that is death sentence. They leave me to die.”
“But why can you not touch the water? Is it acid?”
“Not at all. I understand is very sweet to drink, though makes you sleepy and thirsty for more. Tree not kill you, is what lives in tree.”
Rarity took a step back toward the jungle plants behind her, ready to turn tail and flee. “What, pray tell, lives in the tree?”
“Piranhasprite colony,” Khufu replied. “Murderous little beasts. All ravenous appetites and sharp teeth. Piranhasprites symbiotic to Honeytrap. When water disturbed by large animal, tree feels vibrations and shakes branches. Piranhasprites fly down to kill intruder, and eat what they want. Piranhasprites have no real sense of smell, and cannot see prey that is still, so tree makes it easy for them to find food. When piranhasprites full, remains sink to bottom of pool, and tree absorbs nutrients. So you see, I am stuck here until I starve.”
"Piranhasprites? Are you certain that you don't mean parasprites?" Rarity asked.
"Haha, no, parasprite is vegetarian cousin."
Rarity shuddered at the idea of a carnivorous parasprite. The creatures had nearly decimated Ponyville in minutes. What was an economic loss for the town could have been a massacre if the voracious insect-like animals had developed a taste for ponies.
“I believe I could carry you safely to the shore with magic,” she said. “But I need to know why you are here, and why these griffons would want you dead. As far as I know, you should be on an airship, not here.”
“I must be with honesty for you,” Khufu began, butchering Equestrian grammar worse than usual. “My crew and I, we work for griffons. I was best arms merchant in world, could get anything for money. Griffon general want factories in jungle to build weapons and airships, I take monies and have built here in secret. They tell me need to preserve technological parity, so ponies do not seize griffon homelands. Had to stop Duke Polaris, who prepares ponies for war with his new innovations. I knew they plan to sabotage race to stop Duke, and my crew plan all along to land and rejoin griffons during magical storm. I did not know they all plan to betray me too. I learn that griffons in truth want to make war themselves, commit horrible acts. I learn they kill you, hero Rarity. I wanted out of deal. Worst part, I learn my own lieutenant knew of griffon plan all along, and planned to be rid of me once deal complete. Rest of my friends were imprisoned then, and I was left here to die slowly. Takes very long time for camel to die of hunger or thirst.”
“General? General Karroc is leading these hooligans?” Rarity asked.
“He is.”
Rarity’s mind worked furiously. Pieces were clicking into place. Karroc being the leader of these rogue griffons made perfect sense. It explained who was on the mysterious darkened airship that had signalled to Windlass, as Karroc would have needed to race his ship stealthily past the rest of the regatta in order to beat them here and spring his trap. He and his griffons would have been easily able to see to fly in the dark without lights. He also had the most to gain by removing the griffon chancellor and Elector Graywings. For all Rarity knew, he was now the leader of all the griffon clans, and had turned them against Equestria. Finally, his words at the dinner at Blueblood’s castle revealed that he thought of ponies as little more than sporting game, and that attitude was reflected in the two griffons she and Blueblood had captured. She still did not know why he would be working with Procyon, but at least the players were revealed, if not the endgame.
“If I save you, how do I know that I can trust you?” she asked. “I have already made the mistake of trusting someone I should not have trusted, and somepony I care about was nearly killed.”
“If you save me, I promise to be your staunchest ally,” Khufu replied. “I swear on the bones of my murdered family and the lost throne of Camelon that this is so.” He looked and sounded to Rarity to be completely earnest in his declaration. The problem was that everything Khufu said seemed completely earnest, and now Rarity knew that he was stoic enough to sit through a formal dinner right next to Blueblood, at the same time he was involved in a plan to murder him. Still, an enemy of her enemies ...
“I am going to levitate you across the pool. Do not move.”
The one-eyed camel nodded once in acknowledgement. Rarity concentrated, and a blue aura enveloped her target. Khufu rose into the air and began to drift slowly above the water. Sweat beaded down her forehead, momentarily obscuring her vision, but she did not lose focus. The floating camel was coming closer to the lip of the pool. She only needed to keep him aloft and moving for a few more seconds. Rarity heaved with what magical strength she had remaining, and the deposed prince fell, landing on solid ground. He quickly rose to his odd, two-toed feet and bowed respectfully to Rarity.
“I am forever in your debt, pony hero Rarity.”
Just then, Rarity heard a rustling sound, and looked up to see the dark leaves of the Honeytrap tree shaking, though there was no wind. She looked past Khufu and saw ripples spreading across the surface of the pool. She must have let him fall just enough to skim the surface of the water as he cleared the edge. Khufu turned and saw the ripples as well. His nostrils flared, though his visage remained otherwise impassive. After a few seconds, an eerie, high-pitched whine, almost like an unending scream, filled the air.
“Fabulous,” Rarity said. “I take it that is the sound of the piranhasprites. Now what?”
Khufu turned his one golden eye toward her and uttered a single word. “Run.”