//------------------------------// // What Mines the Hills * Whodunit * Uhpplejock // Story: Lord Mayor Applejack // by MyHobby //------------------------------// Celestia stared at Shardscale. Applejack had never seen her princess speechless before. It was an odd experience to see the immortal, supremely long-lived alicorn with her jaw hanging open. Something flashed in Celestia’s eyes, something like confusion, or anger... Or maybe fear. It was hard to tell. Celestia was not one to get “gob smacked” regularly. The golden chains around Andean’s legs glittered and vanished. “I’m sorry,” Celestia said. Her eyes flickered between his talons and her hooves. “I’m sorry.” Applejack couldn’t tear her eyes away from the princess. “Y-y’ okay?” “Yes,” Celestia said after taking a breath. She looked up at Shardscale. “Thank you.” “Sure,” said the dragon’s incongruously deep voice. “So… whodunit?” “What an excellent question,” Andean said. He sat up and tapped his talons together. “What sort of suspects do we have?” Applejack was jolted out of her astonishment by his words. She turned to his face and watched as a slow, deliberate smirk overtook his beak. “It couldn’t possibly be the all-perfect princess,” he said, “could it?” Applejack felt her blood boil. She opened her mouth, but was beaten to the punch by Mangle. “No, it couldn’t!” The President of Beefland raised his chin. “She, me, Applejack, and Megan were all together when it happened. We’ve got an alibi, the same as you.” Andean tilted his head in a slight nod. “Very well. That only leaves… let’s see… the zebras and your entire staff as suspects.” Mangle shuffled a hoof. “Yeah?” Andean leaned forward. “I would start narrowing down the suspects, if I were you.” “Precisely.” Celestia started to walk towards the Egg. “Mangle, gather together some people you trust. Shard, please stand by to take notes.” Andean stood and followed her. “Perhaps you should employ a few griffon interrogation techniques.” Celestia spun. She flared her wings out as she faced the griffon king. “I think you should stay out here. Enjoy the night. Look at the stars.” Her cheek twitched. “Think about dreams.” Andean spread his wings until they spanned three times the length of Celestia’s. They still weren’t fully unfurled. He gave her a level stare. “Truly?” “I insist,” Celestia replied. She looked at Applejack. “Would you keep Andean and Izod company?” Applejack took a few steps back. “Actually, Yer Highness, ah’d—” “I’ll send Care out as soon as I find her.” Celestia headed for the Egg with Mangle in tow. “Thank you, Applejack.” Applejack desperately missed her hat as she sat down in the garden. She sat with her back to the two others, not especially enjoying the concept of being stuck with them. She decided not to look at Izod as the donkey sat beside her. Izod brayed under his breath. “I hate it when she does that.” Applejack raised an eyebrow. “What?” “Asks you if you want to do something without really asking you.” Izod touched his hat, delicately nudging it upright. “It makes me feel small.” Applejack frowned at the donkey. “Ah know she don’t mean it like that.” “Doesn’t she?” Andean said. He lumbered around them to gaze at a hedge. “Surely you can see the degree of control she holds.” Applejack snorted. “She’s a thousand years old. Oldest and wisest pony ah know of. Of course we all take her advice.” “She doesn’t give advice!” Andean growled. “She gives orders!” The hair on Applejack’s neck stood up. She stumbled to her feet and backpedaled away from Ursagryph. “Now— Now hold up.” “These foals are afraid to do anything without her say-so, you know.” Andean sneered. “It is not Mangle who rules Beefland, or Izod who rules Lightninggale. It is she.” Applejack squared her hooves. “Okay. Wow. You are so full o’ hooey.” “It is not out of respect, either.” Andean pointed a claw at the sky. “It is out of fear.” She gave him a dim scowl. He walked closer. “Tell me, Lord Mayor, what would happen if any of us opposed her?” “Depends on what sort of opposin’ you did, ah guess.” Applejack brushed her mane behind her shoulder. “Are yah just thinkin’ of disagreein’ with her choice in policies?” Her eyes narrowed. “Or are yah thinkin’ of hurtin’ her people?” Andean ignored her. “The result would be overwhelming resistance from everyone she keeps under her thumb. They have practically worshiped her from the day they took office, all of them!” Applejack noted that Izod was hiding himself behind the shrubbery. “All ’cept you, huh?” she said. “The point is that no one is willing to go against her in anything.” Andean lowered his eyebrows. “She, in essence, rules the world.” “An’ what an awful thing it must be to have such a despotic tyrant as her, ah’m sure.” Applejack shrugged. “Ah don’t get what yer beef is. She’s never taken control o’ nothin’.” “She tried to arrest me!” Andean shouted. “She tried to arrest me! On foreign soil! With no evidence aside from her own feelings! “She destroyed our way of life!” He made a fist as his voice rose. “I am old, old enough to remember. There was a time when the griffons ruled the eastern continent. We would fight. We would win. It was a time of glory and building. We would mine the hills for sandstone and erect great monuments to our kings. Visiting dignitaries would pay tribute in exchange for security. We were the superpower!” He grew quiet. “Now we can no longer fight. We cannot continue the glorious griffon conquest. We mine iron for tools, not sandstone for monuments. We squabble amongst ourselves for lack of a unifying foe. We lack conflict.” He looked at Applejack with downcast eyes. “We lack conflict, and have grown stagnate.” He pointed a talon at Applejack. “Your princess forbids conflict. And without conflict, there can be no growth.” “Am ah supposed to feel sorry for yah?” Applejack shook her head. “You know, ah never had any of mah friendships get stronger because we were fightin’.” Andean tilted his head. “What does that have to do with—” “In fact, while we were fightin’ ah’d liked nothin’ more than to throw some of ’em out on their rears.” Applejack rolled her eyes. “One petty thing after another with those girls.” Applejack smirked. “But’cha know what? We got stronger. We all did. Know how?” Andean Ursagryph scratched the side of his head. “Growth don’t come from conflicts,” Applejack said. “Growth comes from resolvin’ ’em.” Andean leaned closer. His breath grew hot on Applejack’s face. It smelled like something was rotting. “Well, we all have a lot of unresolved conflict, don’t we?” “Ah can think of one or two big’uns,” Applejack choked. “I’m sure.” Andean straightened up. “Oh look. The nursemaid Celestia chose to accompany us.” Applejack turned to see Care trotting up in full ceremonial armor. The guard gave a brief bow. “You’ll want to follow me.” Izod poked his head through a bush he had set his hat beside. “Why?” “Because, believe it or not,” Care said, “we’ve actually managed to narrow it down.” They gathered in the kitchens. Celestia stood beside a particular counter, one that held a familiar bottle. Andean lifted an eyebrow. “The ambrosia.” Applejack looked closely at the medicine. The bottle was half-full. “It was filled to the top, wasn’t it?” “It was,” Mangle said. “Which makes me think whoever hurt Seabreeze did it for the ambrosia. And it was somebody with access to the kitchens.” Caution and the two griffon guards ushered Zipporah, Za’rapha, and Aspen into the kitchen. Izod marched up to his advisor and hissed in his ear. It being Izod, it was loud enough for the whole room to hear. “Where in the heck have you been!?” Aspen sighed. “I was putting together a plate of food. For your supper. I, unfortunately, have no alibi.” (*): Servant-only areas were fairly standard across all allied countries. It was tradition. There were a great deal of things that dignitaries and other “important” people needn’t concern themselves with, such as cooking or housekeeping. It made poison-detecting unicorns very popular in some social circles, since most had next to no idea who was cooking what. Celestia was about a century away from breaking down the door to the kitchen and fixing herself her own peanut-butter and jelly sandwich. This, too, was tradition. Zipporah flicked an ear. “Za’rapha was curious about the local cuisine. Though I’m not welcome in here, servants would have been.”(*) “Please,” Andean grumbled, “out of respect for the fallen breezie, at least try and make your rhymes tolerable.” “Go ahead,” Zipporah said, “and keep acting mean. I, at least, remember your dream.” “Son of a—!” Andean raised a talon, but his arm was caught in a golden glow. “No,” Celestia said. “—Gun,” Andean finished. He shook his leg before setting it down. Celestia looked over the small crowd. “Whoever did it had to have access to the kitchens. That narrows it down to those who have been in here since the end of supper.” She glanced around. “All the chefs and waiters are accounted for, which leaves you.” Aspen shifted. Za’rapha swallowed. Celestia blinked. “Where is Aida?” Mangle popped a knuckle. “She’s in my quarters. She’s had a rough night.” Celestia’s eyes narrowed a bit. “I can’t ask her questions if she’s not here, can I?” Mangle popped another knuckle, then a few more. “No, you can’t.” Celestia closed her eyes, took in a deep breath, and let it out slowly. “President Mangle, I need to speak with your aide.” “It can wait,” Mangle said. “You can talk with her later.” Celestia might have sucked on her lip, but the expression was gone before it could completely register in Applejack’s mind. “I can talk with her now,” the princess said. “No,” Mangle said. “You can’t.” The two rulers held a staring contest. Neither backed down for a long moment. Celestia’s shoulders sagged as she turned to Za’rapha and Aspen. “Explain what you were doing in the kitchen.” Aspen tilted his head to the opposite counter. “I was putting together a plate of food. For Lord Izod. He missed supper, you know.” He grimaced. “We all did.” “I was examining the production of food, like that cheese wheel.” Za’rapha scuffed his hoof on the ground. “You never know if another’s food could heal.” Andean rubbed his eyes. “I will rip his tongue out. I swear it.” “Hush.” Celestia sighed through her nose. “I’m lead to assume that whoever hurt Seabreeze might have needed the ambrosia. I fear assumptions will do little to help us, but I must assuage fears. Do either of you have illnesses the ambrosia might heal?” Aspen looked like he had something stuck in his throat. “Fit as a fiddle.” “I too, am well,” Za’rapha flexed a foreleg. “As if my body was not able to tell.” “Maybe you could give two-word answers,” Applejack muttered. “Why would Aspen steal ambrosia, anyway?” Izod said. Loudly. “We have plenty of it back home.” Aspen nodded mutely. “The zebras don’t trade with the breezies, yet.” Mangle said. “Maybe Za’rapha wanted it to learn the formula or something.” “Stop that.” Celestia trotted up to Mangle and poked him in the chest. “I’ll not have pointless speculations thrown around like candy. You’re just going to obscure the facts.” Mangle scowled. “I’m not obscuring the facts.” “Aren’t you?” Andean said. He craned his long neck and looked at the minotaur out of one eye. “You are, after all, withholding a suspect.” “I’m not withholding Aida; I’m giving her a chance to calm down!” “Enough!” Celestia snapped. She glared at the minotaur and the griffon until they backed away from each other. “Za’rapha,” the princess said, “please tell us exactly what you did following Megan’s illness at dinner.” Izod blinked rapidly. He leaned to Aspen. “Since when are dinner and supper the same thing?” “Shh!” Celestia waved him off with a hoof. “Please, Za’rapha.” The zebra set his bag to the side. “I walked to where they prepared the food, keeping to the sides so that I wasn’t rude. After, I accompanied Judge Zipporah to her room, and came to mine nearly as soon.” Andean let a growl build up in his throat. “Here we go. Brace your ears.” “There I meditated for about an hour”—he picked a small vial out of his bag—“memorizing potions of incredible power. Then I set about my storytelling ways, in the production of arcade games.” Andean pinched above his nose. Applejack felt her lower lip jut out of its own accord. “Did y’all just say you make arcade games?” “Zebras started the trend,” Zipporah said. “We appreciate storytelling to any end.” “If there’s a new medium to find,” Za’rapha added, “we zebras seek to not get left behind.” Applejack could only stare. (1): Zecora held some of the highest scores in every game in the Ponyville arcade, second only to Button Mash’s scores. He spent twice as many bits as she did in his efforts to become the “Arcade Champion.” She only let him keep the title out of courtesy. And to do otherwise would probably make him cry. “The Neightendo Headquarters,” Mangle supplied, “lies in Zebrabwe, in darkest Giraffrica.”(1) “Moving on,” Celestia said, “is there anything that can prove you were in your room during those hours?” Za’rapha shook his head. “I keep a log, lest my work falter… but even I admit that such can be altered.” “Very well,” the princess said. “Was there anything else?” The zebra shook his head, and Celestia nodded. “Alright, then. Aspen?” “Hm?” The donkey’s head snapped towards her. Celestia’s left ear flicked down. “Tell us what happened right after Megan fell ill.” Aspen the Alliterative licked his lips. “We watched as you left. Lord Izod said he wanted to take a walk around the garden. To cool off. I decided to put together a plate of food.” The room fell silent as they waited for him to continue. When that didn’t happen, Celestia said, “And?” Aspen wiped away a bit of sweat on his brow. “I put together a plate of food. Then I went back to our room to wait.” Celestia towered over him. “And what did you do in your room?” “I—I didn’t—” Aspen choked on his own spit. He blinked away a tear. “Oh, dash it all, I don’t even…” “Aspen,” Celestia said in a small, quiet voice, “what were you doing when Seabreeze was injured?” “I just…” Aspen coughed. “I just put together a plate of food.” “Celestia, please,” Izod said. He came to stand next to Aspen. “There’s no reason to be so hard on him.” “Izod, somebody has hurt my friend”—Celestia gritted her teeth—“and I would like to find out who it is!” Everyone jumped back at her outburst. A knife dropped to the ground somewhere in the back of the room. Celestia straightened up, her face the picture of peace, and nodded to Mangle. “Perhaps you’re right, President Mangle. Perhaps a conversation with Aida can wait.” She looked around at the assembled shocked faces. “We should meet again tomorrow, when all our heads have cooled.” Celestia sniffed in a quick breath through her nose. “Applejack, Care, Caution, would you accompany me back to our room?” Applejack nodded, her lips pursed, as the ponies filed out of the kitchen. Applejack slid out of her dress and let her hair hang loose. She sat quietly to the side, her hat on her head, as she watched Celestia remove her adornments and trinkets. The ancient alicorn flopped wordlessly onto her bed, her wings splayed at her sides. Applejack tapped a hoof on the floor absently. “You know, Princess, when we were on our boat ride here, ah kinda hoped it was just laughter you kept bottled up inside.” Celestia shifted her head away from the mayor. “Good night, Applejack.” Applejack sighed. “Good night, Princess Celestia.” She walked out of the door and into the hallway. Care and Caution had discarded their ceremonial armor for the lighter chainmail tunics and round helmets. Care watched as Applejack trotted down the corridor. “What’s up?” “Just checkin’ on Megan,” Applejack called over her shoulder. Care and Caution shared a brief glance. “I’ll come, too,” Care said. Applejack shook her head as her pace quickened. “No need.” Care galloped until she was side-by-side with Applejack, matching her speed. “You’re the VIP, remember? You need a guard, especially with someone going around hurting people.” Applejack gave her a small smile. “Ah can take care of mahself.” “I know,” Care said. “Everypony needs backup.” They came to the doorway soon enough. Captain Crumplezone of Beefland Homeland Security saluted. “Lord Mayor Applejack. First Lieutenant Care.” Applejack bowed her head while Care matched the minotaur’s salute. Crumplezone crossed his arms. “What brings you to the Sapience’s—?” “Megan’s,” Applejack said. “What brings you to Megan’s room?” Crumplezone said. “Ah wanna say ‘hi’ an’ see how she’s doin’.” Applejack tilted her hat back. “Is that a good enough reason?” Crumplezone’s beard ruffled under his chin as he scratched it. “Yeah, I think that’s good enough. That’s what my gut tells me, at least.” “Gut’s as trustworthy a body part as any,” Applejack said. She walked through the door as the captain opened it. “Thanks.” The lamps were dim, but not out. They could see Megan lying on Mangle’s bed, half-in and half-out of the covers. She shifted and groaned, and then said something in her throaty language. “Hay, Sugarcube,” Applejack said. “It’s me, Applejack.” Megan squinted. Her eyes widened as recognition hit her. She said something in her own language again. Applejack sighed. “Ah can’t understand you. Sorry.” Care brought a glass of water to Megan, and the girl drank slowly. She set the glass on her chest and stared at the guard. She pointed at her and said something. Care tilted her head and pointed at her chest. Megan nodded. “Care.” Care tapped her chest. “Care.” Megan nodded and scrunched up her nose. She slowly, laboriously sounded out the word. “Car.” Applejack laughed. “Do we call that close enough?” Care smiled, then took the glass to a small sink. Megan pointed at Applejack, and the mayor was quick to oblige. “Applejack.” Megan squinted. She gave several false starts before finally coming up with “Ubblejerk.” Care nearly dropped the glass she was laughing so hard. “Alright,” Applejack said with a chuckle. “Alright. Um… Apple… Jack…” Megan nodded. “Urckle … Juck…” The girl snapped her fingers. “Urpple… Jock?” Applejack clenched her teeth together to keep snickers from escaping. “AJ.” “Iee…” Megan blinked. “Jie?” Care trotted up with a full glass for each of them. “Looks like she has a little trouble with vowels.” “Can’t imagine pony vowels bein’ much different from a… whatever she is.” Applejack leaned back and sipped. “But ah guess ‘different strokes for different folks.’” “Different vocal cords, too.” Care’s chain mail clinked as she shifted her weight. She took a gulp. “For all we know, our speech could sound like braying animals to her.” Megan stared at them with a small hint of trepidation. She settled back down in bed and stared at the ceiling. “She did call us animals.” Applejack rested her chin on the side of the bed. “How much do you think we act like the animals in her world?” Care thought for a moment. Her horn glowed as she set her glass on the hardwood floor. “I don’t think it does much good to speculate, Your Lordship.” “Yeah.” Applejack took her hat off and grasped a clump of her mane. She rolled it together and wrapped a red band around the end. “That’s what Celestia said.” “I tend to think she knows a thing or two.” Care loosened a clasp near the neck of her chainmail. Her white coat shifted to its natural reddish-orange. “About most things, anyway.” “And that’s what ah said.” Applejack chuckled. “An’ it’s the honest truth.” Applejack’s ears perked up at the sound of Crumplezone’s voice. “Y’ hear that?” Care nodded and walked up to the door. “What’s up?” Crumplezone poked a thumb out. “This guy says he wants to brings some food in for Megan.” Care looked past the minotaur to see Aspen standing with his back perfectly straight, a tray balanced on top. The tray held a bowl of steaming chicken-noodle soup. “I hear this is a remedy for carnivores. I figure she’d want something when her stomach clears up.” Applejack moved up beside Care. “Aren’t you under investigation?” “Yes,” Aspen said. “But that was about the breezie. Not the Sapi— Megan.” Care sniffed the soup. “Why would they let you be up and about?” “Because everyone is afraid of her.” Aspen looked over their shoulders to the girl laying on the bed. “Everyone. Even me. E-especially me. But…” He licked his lips. “But I’m the only servant brave enough to do this. I’m the only one who can.” Applejack moved back. “Fair enough. But you ain’t gonna get out of here with any sort of funny business.” Aspen favored Applejack with a sad smile. “I’m just here to do my job, Lord Mayor.” Applejack watched as he carried the bowl to the bedside. “Sorta gives you another kinda power over folks, doesn’t it? Bein’ the only one who’ll do a certain job?” Aspen slid the tray onto a nightstand. He pulled a plastic spoon out of his purple tunic’s pocket and placed it gently beside the bowl. “You’re probably right. It’s a different kind of power.” He smirked. “‘The path to power is walked upon the backs of stupid people.’ And fear makes people do very stupid things indeed.” Care jumped on the bed and helped Megan sit up, while Applejack carried the soup to her. “Yeah,” Applejack said. “Ah can see that.” Aspen nodded to the three of them. “Good evening, ladies.” He walked out of the room and Crumplezone shut the door behind him. “Here,” Care said. Her horn glowed as she took the spoon. “It’ll be easier if I feed her.” “Gotcha.” Applejack noticed Megan pointing at the door. “Aspen.” “Owspin.” Megan clicked her tongue and tried again. “Uhspin.” The girl turned to Care—“Car”—the door—“Uhspin”—and Applejack—“Uhpplejock.” Applejack winced even as she shook with silent laughter. She clapped her hooves together slowly. “Got it in one, kid.” Megan smiled and allowed Care to stick the spoon in her mouth. Applejack stared at the door. “It’s funny, though.” She turned to Care. “Did he have any guards at all?” Care frowned as Megan slurped up another spoonful. “No. I don’t think so. Crumplezone probably made sure he was accompanied back.” Applejack nodded. “Probably.” She lay down on the bed and pulled her hat over her eyes. “Scared people do stupid things, huh?” she mumbled. She lifted her head up, the brim of her hat touching her nose. “Everybody’s afraid. Everybody.” Care sniffed the soup again. “You know, I never thought something with ‘chicken’ in the name would smell like honey.” Applejack leapt to her feet and yanked her hat away from her face. “Holy Horseapples!” Kicks Mcgee flew out and bucked the tray from Care’s telekinetic grip. Soups spilled all over Mangle’s bed, staining the sheets. Megan pulled away from Applejack, her eyes wide. Care jumped up, her hooves in a combat stance. “Whoa!” Care sucked in a breath as she clasped her chainmail in a deft motion. Her coat turned white. “Whoa, okay. What’s that about?” Applejack sucked in deep breaths. “Get Megan on mah back. We’re gettin’ her to the infirmary right the hay now!”