Several days had passed since the events of the Jubilation, and once Max had returned to Canterlot, he had fallen back into his usual rhythm.
“Ok, put your hoof there. Yes, right there. Feel how firm that is? Good. Now slowly push downwards, repeat it again and again. Faster now, we’re almost at the end...” Max was getting a little out of breath. “And yes... that’s it.” He sounded relieved.
“Thanks, baron,” said the mare next to him, panting hard. “That was my first time, and I wasn’t sure what to do. You’re a good teacher.”
“Well, I don’t like to brag, but I’ve had a lot of practice.” He glanced around at the grunting and sweating ponies scattered around the room.
“Ok, now push off,” he ordered his pupil. The unicorn mare, clad in full armour, jumped from the top of the climbing wall and was slowly lowered to the ground by her safety gear. Following her example, Max hopped down the wall and came to rest at the bottom. Around the gym, various members of the guard were sparring with each other or working out under the careful eye of their instructors. News of his use of the training equipment had finally filtered up the command structure of the guard, and to his surprise, rather than being banned, they had co-opted him to act as a trainer. “Right, I think you’ve got the basics down now. Rest for a few minutes, then we can try it again, with the rocks this time.” The trainee groaned as she looked up at the large boulders resting on top of the wall, and at the unicorns placed to randomly knock them down.
Max grinned at her reaction. He’d been feeling on top of the world since he and Buttercup had returned from Larraguible. He didn’t know exactly what his current relationship with Buttercup was; colt and filly friend? Friends, with or without benefits? Whatever; it seemed to agree with him. He supposed they should just sit down and talk about it at some point. They had spent what time together they could when their schedules allowed, but had rather tip toed around what direction their relationship was going. Oddly, her father had invited him to join him at a spa later, apparently as thanks for escorting his daughter to the vicereine’s party. Really, Max had thought that the trip itself had been reward enough, but he didn’t want to reject the baron’s kindness. Maybe Buttercup would be there, although it might be a bit awkward to discuss things with her father there.
Pulling his mind back to the present, Max gestured to his next pupil. Then suddenly there was a cry from somewhere near the ground. “Hey, mister!” Confused, Max looked down and saw an orange pegasus filly flanked by several night guards.
Max frowned. He knew that training in the guard could start young, but the foal looked young even for a cadet. “Can I help you, miss?” he asked.
“Scootaloo. Can I climb the wall, please, mister?” she pleaded eyes opening wide.
“A little respect,” warned one of the guards. “He’s a baron.”
Waving away the guard’s objection, Max knelt to put his face closer to the filly’s level. “It’s Mounty Max, actually, but you can call me Max.” Max looked up at the towering construction. “It’s awfully big for a little filly.”
The foal puffed out her chest, and her eyes blazed for a moment. “I’m not that small!” she protested. “Anyway, my teacher, Miss Cheerilee, says that when you find something you really want to do, you should keep trying until you get it right, and I really want to climb mum’s wall.”
“Your mother’s wall?” asked Max, looking around for the mare.
“Nocturne,” said one of the guards. Max recognised him as Sergeant Smiles. “She was in the guard, one of the best we ever had.” He looked down at Scootaloo with a strange look on his face.
“Did she bring her daughter to work?” asked Max.
“No, Scootaloo is here on a school trip. Nocturne is...” The sergeant winced a little. “...no longer about, baron.”
“Oh,” said Max, the jangle dropping.
“Yeah, Nocturne helped make a lot of the equipment around here,” said another of the guards.
“So can I?” asked the child again, her eyes wide and radiating enthusiasm.
“I suppose so...” began Max, his defences beginning to crumble under the onslaught of cuteness.
“Great!” began Scootaloo, rushing towards the wall.
“Wait a minute,” cried Max, grabbing the filly by the tail before she could start clambering between the rocks. “Safety first!” he scolded the foal. “You need to put on a harness.” He hoped they had one that would fit the child.
“Aww! That’s boring. I’m not gonna get hurt.”
“You know what else is boring?” asked Max. “Having to spend the whole summer inside and not able to play with your friends because you broke your legs.”
The filly looked thoughtful for a moment. “Yeah that would be awful,” she agreed.
“It happened to me. I climbed on top of my house once to try and get a kite down, and I fell and hurt myself. A kite can’t hold up a foal, you know.”
For a moment, Scootaloo looked like she was considering testing that hypothesis, but she eventually seemed to accept it as truth.
“I had to spend the rest of the summer inside while my legs healed, and my friends all got to have fun outside. It was horrible.” He’d gone a little stir crazy at the time; at least Piste had visited him most days.
“That sounds horrible!” The foal stuck out her tongue in disgust.
“It was, so safety first!”
“Are you sure?” the filly whined. “I’m sure I won’t get hurt.”
“Even if you are sure, you need to set a good example for all the guards around,” he whispered, moving closer to Scootaloo. “They might not all be as good as you. Besides,” he continued as a normal volume, “If your mother made the wall, she also made the safety equipment, and I’m sure she used to use it as well.” Max looked around for some support and the nearby guards all nodded.
“Well, I suppose I don’t want anypony else to get hurt,” agreed Scootaloo.
“Good!” said Max with a grin.
It took a while, but they eventually managed to stuff a helmet with added padding, and got it to fit snugly on Scootaloo’s head before strapping her into a harness.
“Please, can I try now?” Scootaloo moaned, fidgeting at her straps.
“Just a second,” said Max, nodding to the unicorns, who locked the cage at the top of the wall into place to stop the boulders from falling.
“Oh come on, that was the best part!” pouted the filly.
Max grinned at the young daredevil. “Let’s see if you can get to the top first, then you can try it with the boulders.”
Not pausing, the foal rushed towards the wall and began to clamber over the lower rocks, squeezing her form between them as she went. Max watched for a moment, before scampering up the wall alongside and then over her.
“Hey!” she cried. “How are you doing that?” she asked, struggling to rise above another outcrop.
“Practice,” replied Max with a chuckle. “Slow down and watch what you’re doing with your hooves,” he ordered. “Put your front right hoof there, then your left one there, and lean against the wall. Good, now lift yourself up.” The filly followed his instructions and found it easier to push herself up. “Now, do you want to try something really cool?” asked Max, eyeing the ground about a dozen feet below.
“Yeah!” replied Scootaloo, rapidly nodding her head.
“Okay, lean back against the ropes - don’t worry, you won't fall - then kick off with your hind legs.” The filly looked a little unsure for a moment, and then did as she was told. She swung away from the wall for a moment. Then the ponies holding the safety ropes gave a jerk on the lines, lifting her into the air, her wings buzzing instinctively as she flew through the air.
“I’m flying!” she yelled in joy.
Max grinned as the filly was lowered gently to the ground.
“Hey, you tricked me!” grumbled Scootaloo. “Now I’m back on the ground.”
“Well, you can try again now, and you know what to do if you start to fall,” explained Max.
“What is this child doing here?” came an imperious voice. Max winced as he looked up. Archduke Fisher was approaching, Volk in tow. The archduke didn’t much like him being here, let alone other civilians.
“I’m taking responsibility for her,” announced Max, dropping back to the ground and stepping between the filly and the stallion.
“This is not a playground, baron,” snarled Fisher.
“Sorry, sir,” said Smiles. “But the girl wanted to see the equipment her mother, Sergeant Nocturne, set up.”
Recognition seemed to flicker across Fisher’s eyes, and to Max’s surprise his face softened. “I see.” He knelt to put his face level with the filly. “Your mother was a truly exceptional guard, girl, an honour to the uniform. She gave her all in the service of Equestria.”
“Thank you, sir,” muttered Scootaloo, looking uneasy.
“You say your mother made this wall?” He looked up at the construction.
“Yes sir, and I’m going to beat it. When I’m older, I’m going to join the guard and be just as good as my mother was!” she boasted.
A faint smile crept over Fisher’s face. “I’m sure you will, lass. Equestria could do with more like you.” Fisher gave Scootaloo a crisp salute, which she returned somewhat more sloppily. “Very well, carry on,” he ordered, getting to his hooves and turning away.
“That was nice of you,” said Max, stepping away from Scootaloo for a moment as the filly prepared for her next ascent.
“I am a father, Baron Max,” said Fisher, looking Max in the eye. “I know what it is like to want your child to be proud of your deeds, and to be proud of my son.” Not waiting for a reply, he turned and walked away.
You think you know somepony, thought Max, watching the Archduke go. Then they turn around and turn out to be somepony entirely different. He returned his attention to his pupil. “Ok, Scootaloo, let’s see how high you can get this time. Now, if you start by putting your hoof there, you see where that rock is...”
Slowly, the filly began to clamber up the surface, one hoof at a time, with Max following along behind her. At the bottom a small crowd of guards began to gather, occasionally shouting encouragement. With rather more enthusiasm than skill the young pony made her way about a third of the way up the wall.
“SCOOTALOO!” came a cry from below. Max looked down and saw a panicked pink-maned mare rushing across the room towards him, followed closely by an orange stallion. “SCOOTALOO, GET DOWN HERE!”
Above him, Scootaloo noticed the commotion and turned her head to look down, tottering a little as her concentration wavered. “Miss Cheerilee, Miss Cheerilee!” she yelled. “Look at me! Look how high up I am!” This must be the filly’s teacher, thought Max.
“Who’s in charge of the climbing wall?” yelled the mare.
“None of us are using it, so I think he is,” said a guard, pointing upwards. “Hey, baron!”
“Oh! You must be Miss Cheerilee!” called Max. “I’m Baron Mounty Max. Scootaloo told me all about you!”
The teacher ground her teeth in annoyance. “Yes, well, I—“
“I think it’s great that there are teachers who want to encourage their student’s passions to this extent!” Mounty replied with what he hoped was a winning smile. “My teachers always got mad at me when they caught me climbing on stuff.”
“…Er, what?” asked Cheerilee.
“The guards let me climb here in exchange for lessons for the newbies. I was just getting started when Sergeant Smiles brought in Scootaloo there.” Scootaloo, in the process of climbing to a higher rock, pried one hoof off the rocks to wave at the adults in response to her name. “And she said that she really wanted to climb the wall, and you, her chaperone, wanted her to do it too! How could I say ‘no’ to that? So I got her into the safety gear, and up we went!”
“She told you that I wanted her to climb the wall,” said Cheerilee.
“Yep!” said Max. Why did the teacher sound surprised, he thought.
“And you believed her.”
“Well… just look at her.” Mounty smiled. “I don’t think such an obviously sweet and innocent foal would lie or say something she wasn’t sure was true.”
Cheerilee seemed to fight with herself for a moment before giving a sigh. “In any event, the field trip is just about over,” she managed. “Could you please get Scootaloo down?”
“Aww!” complained Scootaloo. “But I wanna get to the top!”
“Sorry, kid,” said Mounty. “You should listen to your teacher. Come on. Kick off like I showed you.”
Scootaloo kicked off from the wall, swinging out in space. Cheerilee looked like she was going to scream for a moment, but then Scotaloo’s fall was halted by the rope and she was slowly lowered to the ground. Max met her at the bottom.
“That was awesome!” said Scootaloo. “Thanks, Baron Max!”
Max was about to tell Scootaloo it was nothing, when Cheerilee marched over to him and prodded him sharply in the chest. “You should be ashamed of yourself,” she snapped. “Letting a child take part in such a dangerous activity.”
“But,” stuttered Max, “The boulders weren’t even primed. And she had all the safety gear—“
“What if she’d gotten hurt?” demanded Cheerilee. “Heavy Roller! Do you have anything to say to this noble who sent your daughter up that wall?” Max was suddenly hit by a wave of guilt. What if something had gone wrong?
The orange stallion stood stock still for a moment, looking back and forth between Max, the wall and the foal. “You’re the one who got her outfitted to climb the wall?” he said finally.
“Well, yeah…” Mounty looked down. “I’m sorry if I screwed up. I’m still new, and—“
The stallion took Max in a rib-cracking hug. “You convinced her to wear safety gear!” he exclaimed, seemingly overjoyed. “I had to beg her for hours to get her to wear a helmet on her scooter! She still hasn’t put seatbelts in her wagon! She wanted to go swimming in Snake Bite Bog without even taking snake repellent! But you got her to wear a helmet and a harness before doing something dangerous! That’s incredible!”
“Of course!” said Mounty. Were they talking about the same Scootaloo? “Safety first. Hey, Scootaloo, you’re going to put seatbelts in that wagon, right?”
“Yes, sir!” chirped Scootaloo. “Because if I stay safe, I won’t get hurt, and then I can keep doing AWESOME things! But if I get hurt, I’ll have to spend days or weeks in the hospital, and I won’t be able to do anything cool!”
“Exactly!” said Mounty.
“I might even install emergency brakes on the scooter, and—“ began Scootaloo.
“That’s – that’s amazing!” interrupted Heavy Roller, hugging Mounty all the tighter.
“Can’t… breathe…” interjected Mounty feeling his chest starting to give.
Heavy Roller finally released Mounty. “Thank you! If you ever need any wagon related favours—“ Max thought for a moment. He’d never really had much use for a wagon; Nulpar’s territory wasn’t great for them, and it was easy enough to just walk around Canterlot with all he needed.
“Alright, alright,” said a third pony, an orange coated mare with her yellow mane in a ponytail. “Ah love a happy reunion, but we still got six foals AWOL. Been a pleasure, baron, but—“
“Oh, I understand completely. Have a good day!” said Max, returning to the wall. He’d better get back to his teaching. His next trainee took his place at the bottom of the wall as Max eyed the strange group leaving the gym.
It always seemed like he was late for something these days, thought Max as he ran through the streets of Canterlot on his way to his spa date. In the west, the sun was already dipping below the horizon.
Galloping down the street, Max almost ran straight past the spa. It wasn’t signposted, and the entrance was partway down a secluded alley in a not terribly good part of town. It wasn’t that far from Mrs G’s loggings, actually; maybe he could try and convince her to move somewhere a bit nicer? If it wasn’t for the baron’s directions, Max doubted he’d have found it. Double checking to make sure he actually had the right place, Max pushed open the door and stuck his head in.
Inside the building was a small waiting room. A few chairs stood to one side, and across from him was a high desk, behind which sat a young mare busy filing her hooves. She had the most unusual colouration; sky blue for the most part, but with dark blue stripes running down her sides. Was it some sort of dye? wondered Max. Or was she, oh what were they called... a Zebra? Since helping that goat with his problem with the post office, he’d had visits from a mix of other species - a few donkeys, a cow or two, even one of these Zebra, although she hadn’t spoken a word of Equestrian and all Max could do was point her in the direction of her ambassador. They seemed to think he was some expert on their needs, when he didn’t even know zebras came in different colours.
“Excuse me,” he began. The girl put down her file and looked over to him with a frown.
“We’re closed,” she said abruptly in Prench-accented Equestrian.
“Are you sure? I was given directions for this place by Baron Fields.”
“Oh, you know the vieux baron do you?” she said with a smile. Then her face darkened again. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”
Max frowned. This was all rather strange. Wouldn’t the spa want people to visit, unless it was really exclusive? Maybe it was a place for nobles to stay out of the limelight? In which case he should mention it to Fragrant; she’d made her dislike of appearing in the papers very clear several times. “Um, Baron Fields gave me this.” He passed over the note Rolling had left for him.
The mare’s eyes flicked over the paper then she smiled. “Ah, you must be Baron Max. Baron Fields mentioned you. Sorry about that, but we only let in the very best here.”
“I understand,” said Max uneasily. They were in Canterlot; barons hardly rated as the very best. There was something strange going on here.
“I’m Odelia, by the way,” She held out a hoof for him to shake. ”I’m afraid you’re late, but you can catch up with the baron in the hot tub, and when you’re finished you’re due a massage and maybe somepony can have a look at your hooves?”
Max’s eyes flicked downwards. What was wrong with his hooves?
“If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to Baron Fields.” The striped mare led Max deeper into the building, and into a room dominated by a large pool of gently steaming and bubbling water. The area around was covered with tiles with various patterns inlaid in them. The air was thick with incense from several candles and the sound of distance music could be heard, although there was no sign of any musicians. Slumped back in the tub was Baron Fields, looking more than half asleep; there was no sign of Buttercup. Having shown him the way, the young mare turned and trotted away on hooftips.
As Max approached the water, Rolling opened his eyes and turned to face his guest with a slight frown.
“Do you mind if I join you, baron?” asked Max.
The old stallion looked around for a moment. “I don’t see why not,” he replied. “I did think this was all supposed to be private, but the more the merrier, I suppose.” He picked up a glass of some fruit juice from the edge of the water and took a sip.
Max slowly lowered himself into the water, giving a hiss as he did so; it was hot and it took him a few moments to get accustomed to it. But once he did, the feeling of the bubbles against his coat felt delightful. Maybe there was something to this spa thing after all.
“Thanks for inviting me,” said Max politely.
“Hum,” said Rolling, looking over at his companion. “I’m sorry, I think you might have me mixed up with somepony else. I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Baron Fields.”
If it wasn’t for the hot water, a blush would have crept over Max as awkwardness welled up in him. He’d seen the baron’s memory problems before, but this was the first time the old stallion had forgotten who he was. What should he do? “Um, I’m Baron Mounty Max, sir.”
“Mounty Max? You know, I think I used to know someone of that name, but I can’t quite put my hoof on it. I’m sure it’ll come to me.” The elderly stallion leaned back again and shut his eyes. A moment later he opened them again and he turned back to his companion. “Ah, Max, you made it. Have you been here long? I must have drifted off, this thing is so relaxing I do it every time.”
“Oh, not long, sir, I just arrived,” said Max, feeling relieved that Field’s funny turn seemed to have ended. “Where’s Buttercup?” he asked, trying not to sound too needy.
“Oh, she’s around here somewhere, doing something girly no doubt, maybe getting her hooves done or her mane. I do like this place, but there are limits to what a stallion can take. I don’t suppose you have anything like this up in...” Rolling paused for a moment, seeming to struggle for a word. “In your province,” he managed.
“Well, Welcoming Hearth has a sauna in her hotel. You’re supposed to get really hot, then run out and dive into a frozen lake, but it’s not really my thing. She says it’s good for the heart, but I think that’s just advertising.”
“Interesting. Well, I hope you enjoyed the trip you took with my daughter the other day.”
“Oh the pleasure was all mine,” said Max. Then he realised how that might sound if the Baron knew what had happened. “I mean, I think she had a good time as well, um several, it seemed like she was enjoying herself, I mean.” But what if he didn’t know? “I think it went well,” he ended lamely.
“Well, Buttercup hasn’t had anything bad to say about it or you. Although from what I heard, there were some hoodlums trying to spoil it all. First smoke bombs, then some sort of spell mishap. Just as well no pony got hurt.”
“Yes,” agreed Max, a little nervously. He and Buttercup had agreed not to tell her father about her almost getting trampled; there was no need to worry him. “I didn’t see the spell thing, I was... er... in bed at the time, but apparently it made quite a mess.”
“Well, no matter. I’m sure you’ll get a chance to catch up with my daughter later, maybe even ask her out again? The Gala’s only a few weeks away, and there’s always a ball or something going on.” He said hopefully, then frowned. “Although she hasn’t got much free time at the moment. She’s trying to play catch up with some paperwork.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” said Max. He had tried to help Buttercup with her work on the journey back, but they hadn’t gotten much actual sleep the night before, so they ended up napping for most of the trip. Even when awake, they tended to be a little distracted around each other.
“Don’t be, I should be one doing the work anyway.” He sighed. “Buttercup hasn’t had that much of a childhood, really. I kept her around court after her... after my wife, Strawberry, passed. I met her late, you know; too late, really. Oh, she was younger than me by quite a bit but Buttercup was still a surprise, and her body... things didn’t go well.” He closed his eyes for a moment and Max thought he saw a tear drip from his face, but it may have been condensation. “Anyway, I should have let Buttercup spend more time around foals of her own age, let her actually live more, not just spend her time with an old duffer like me.” He leaned forwards. “It eats your life, you know. The Court. You need to give your all for your people, or you’re not doing it properly.”
Max thought about Zephyr. Just being a mayor had been enough to break the two of them up. The old stallion was right; what would the Night Court do to a relationship?
“But there’s no shame in that,” continued Rolling. “It’s an honourable life, giving yourself for your people, but no parent wants to be a burden on their child. I just wish Buttercup could have a life before she has to take over from me. That won’t be long; I’m weak in both body and mind,” he growled, splashing at the water angrily in frustration.
“I’m sure you’ve got many years left in you,” said Max.
“You’re not a very good liar,” said Fields seriously. “That doesn’t help at court. But I hope I can manage a few more years. I don’t want Buttercup to have to take on the responsibility too early; she already does most of my work. She doesn’t think I notice, but I’m not that far gone yet. Still, I’ve been feeling better this last year or so. These spa trips seem to be helping, so maybe I have a few more years in me.” He looked around conspiratorially. “You see, I’ve been sending Buttercup to these events, setting her up with the stallions at court. I hope she’ll find someone to give her a hoof when the time comes for me to move on, so she won’t have to do it all alone like I did.”
“Oh,” said Max, what was the old stallion suggesting?
“Don’t look like that. I’m not suggesting you get married right away, but I like you, Max; you seem an honourable stallion, and I know Buttercup does too. I hope you like her. Just think about it. Plus, you know, some grandfoals wouldn’t go amiss. I feel like spoiling some foals rotten, you know.” He leant back in the pool with a smile.
Max considered for a moment. Was there something to what the old pony had said? Was the court too big for one pony to manage by himself? He’d certainly found it hard going, and he’d had Fragrant and Rolling to help him so far; he couldn’t rely on them forever. He turned back to the baron, but found that he was snoring quietly. To be honest, thought Max, sleep didn’t seem too bad an idea right now. The water and incense was very relaxing, and he didn’t have to do anything in court until much later. He let himself float, bobbing gently in the heated water, and closed his eyes.
Max was just beginning to drift off when his vision lightened, as if a torch was being shined in his face. He grimaced and inched open one eye to try and find out what was disturbing him. What he saw caused both eyes to snap open. The baron was covered by a bright green aura, like a unicorn’s, even though none were present. He still seemed to be sleeping peacefully, despite the glow. Max leaned over to prod the old stallion, but stopped himself. What if it hurt the stallion in some way? Looking around, Max couldn’t see anypony, although some of the shapes in the tiles on the floor were glowing with the same green light, occasionally shooting streams of the energy at the old stallion across the pool from him. He needed to get somepony to help.
Leaping from the water, Max shook himself, then headed towards the exit. The corridor beyond didn’t seem familiar; he must have gotten turned around at some point. He was about to return to the pool room when his ears pricked up. He could just about make out rhythmic sounds from further down the corridor. Was that someone chanting? What was going on here? He couldn’t make out any words. Trying to make as little noise as possible, Max crept further down the corridor, following the sound. Coming to a halt outside a door, Max paused and slowly drew it open.
What he saw almost stopped Max’s heart. In the room stood another zebra with similar colouring to the receptionist, although this was clearly a much older stallion and had a short unicorn-like horn protruding from his head. He was sitting at one end of the room, chanting as his horn pulsed with power. The room was full of incense - a more pungent sulphurous smell than the kind in the bathroom - which swirled around, seeming to form shapes and faces of its own accord. To Max’s horror, Buttercup was also present; like her father, she was also encased in a green aura, and hovering a few inches over a stone altar. As he watched, the aura pulsed, causing the mare to moan in what sounded like pain. A wave of light left her body and was funnelled into runes carved into the ground.
He had to stop this - whatever it was - now! thought Max, as he barged through the door and hurled himself towards the zebra. His eyes snapped open then widened in shock, and he opened his mouth to say something before Max smashed forwards into him, knocking the striped creature into the wall. The zebra’s aura cut out and he crumpled to the floor, gasping for breath. Behind him, Max heard a thud as if something had dropped to the ground, but he paid it no attention. He swung a hoof at the zebra, but he rolled away and lashed out clumsily, catching Max a glancing blow on his chest, which he hardly noticed. The zebra tried to stand, but Max knocked him down again. He raised a hoof over its head. He had to stop him hurting Buttercup again!
“Max, stop!” came a cry, and he felt someone pulling at him. He turned his head to see Buttercup yanking at his tail. “Please stop!”
“What?” he asked, looking down at his enemy again. The zebra was shielding himself with his forelegs and glancing warily up at him.
“Eloi wasn’t hurting me! Please stop, let me explain,” she cried.
Totally confused, Max slumped down on his hind legs. “But that glow! What’s going on?”
Still looking at him warily, the zebra got back to his hooves a little shakily and took a few steps away from Max. “It’s magic, a type of treatment for her father,” he announced in a deep voice, with the same accent as the receptionist.
“Treatment? What do you mean?”
“Eloi has a spell that can be used to transmit life force from one pony to another. It makes my father feel better, so he can keep working,” explained Buttercup, moving closer to Max.
“Transmit life force? I don’t understand.”
“I can take the energy from Lady Buttercup and use it to improve her father’s health. For a time, anyway,” said the zebra.
“Take your energy? Are you alright?” Max scrutinized Buttercup. She seemed a little unsteady on her hooves, and her eyes had deep bags beneath them. He suddenly understood why she often seemed so exhausted.
“I’m fine,” she said, waving him away. “It just makes me feel a little tired. It’s a small price to pay for Dad’s health. It lets him move easier, helps his memory... he feels so much better!”
“I’ve never heard of any treatment like this before.”
“It is a rare spell, maybe unique,” admitted the old zebra. “It also only works amongst close relatives; otherwise the life force is too different to be accepted. It took me almost a lifetime of travel to develop the Voodoo needed. Plus few of my people have the necessary equipment.” He gently tapped his horn.
Max frowned. “Zebras don’t have many unicorns?” he asked.
“Zebrony actually,” said Eloi, a little huffily. “Half zebra, half pony from Neigh Orleans, originally. Unicorns are almost unknown among my people.”
Max tried to understand what was happening. “The Baron didn’t mention anything about this to me.”
Buttercup looked down. “Dad doesn’t... he doesn’t know what we’re doing,” she admitted.
“What!” exclaimed Max. “How can he not know?”
“The baron was kind to me in my youth,” said the Zebrony. “When I returned to Equestria, I made my way to his lands to offer my services, but he turned down my aid. He was worried of any possible side effects on his daughter.”
“Father was worried I might get hurt, but everything’s fine. I just get a little faint for a while, nothing a good night’s sleep can’t cure. But he gets so weak and forgetful sometimes and I... I get worried, I don’t want to lose him,” she continued to babble. Max thought she might have been bottling this up for a while. “And after Eloi first cast the spell on him, he was so much better. He was how I remembered him when I was young. But it wears off. I just had to keep helping him, so I talked him into coming here. He always falls asleep and Eloi can cast the spell and he wakes up feeling better.”
“But he doesn’t know what you’re doing to him?” protested Max, “How can that be legal?”
“It... it’s not,” admitted Buttercup.
“Not legal! But... you’re,” stuttered Max. “You have to stop this now!”
“Please, Max, please! You can’t tell anypony!” she pleaded.
“I have to, this, I can’t... is this spell even legal?” Max’s head was whirling.
“It makes Dad feel so much better, like he’s ten years younger!”
“But is it legal?” asked Max again.
“It doesn’t do any harm,” said Buttercup, lowering her gaze.
Max looked at Eloi. “It has not undergone all the testing needed to properly register healing magic,” admitted the zebra. “But I have cast it many times without any mishap.”
“Please don’t tell anypony, please,” begged Buttercup, pulling on Max’s leg.
“I have to! This is wrong!”
“Please, if you do you’ll kill dad!”
“Kill? You mean the spell can...” This was getting worse by the minute. He needed to think.
“No! Of course not! But if he found out what I’d been doing, that it was illegal... the shame, it would break him, and at his age...” Tears ran down her face. “Please, can’t you just forget you ever saw this? Please, for me?” She looked up at him, eyes wide.
His duty was clear; illegal activity was being carried out, he should report it to the guard, this had to be stopped, but... but this was Buttercup. She’d helped him settle in at court, he’d saved her from being trampled… and only a few days ago she’d slept in his arms after they’d made love. And the baron, one of his few friends in Canterlot; would he thank him or blame him for the scandal? He should report it, but could he? “I don’t, I need... I need to think about this.”
“Please, it’s not for very long... the spell won’t work after a while.”
“It is true,” confirmed Eloi. “The effects are reduced with each usage. Another year or so and Baron Fields will be unable to accept any further life force.”
That sounded reasonable... only a year or so... but no, this was a crime. He had to do something about it. He was part of the Night Court; it was his duty to Nulpar, to Equestria, to the Princess. He looked down at Buttercup’s green, tear-filled eyes. But what about his duty to her? To his mare? Who was being hurt here? The baron felt better after the spell, and Buttercup seemed to be okay. But what if something went wrong? The spell was not fully tested, it could... he needed time, he had to think.
“I... I won’t tell anyone...”
“Thank you! Thank you!” cried Buttercup, grasping him around the neck and kissing him.
Max pulled his head back. “No! I won’t tell anyone yet. I need to think about this, and us. I need to think about what I need to... what I should do.” He pushed the mare away with a little more force than he had planned to. She looked up, hurt and confusion flowing across her face.
“I see. I’ll... I trust you, Max, you’ll do the right thing.”
“I... I don’t know what the right thing is anymore! I can’t be here, I need to...” cried Max as he turned on his heels and rushed through the door. He stormed through the building, a thousand emotions rushing through him. He reached the waiting room and pushed the mare there aside, and he slammed through the door and into the street outside, gasping for fresh air.
His head still in a daze, Max’s legs instinctively carried him back to his office. He nodded to guards and servants on the way, but he wasn’t really aware of them.
“Are you alright, dearie?” came a voice. Max looked up, his eyes flicking from side to side. He was in his office, slumped over his desk.
“Huh?” he muttered.
“I said, are you alright?” said Mrs G, looking at him with concern. “You look terrible. I thought spas were supposed to make you feel better.”
Max rubbed his face with his hooves. “Something happened, I...” He paused. He so wanted to tell Mrs G what had happened - she was his best friend in Canterlot - but if he did, she’d be drawn into this conspiracy as well. He didn’t want to hurt her. “I can’t tell you.”
Mrs G’s eyes narrowed, and she stared hard at him for moment before retreating to the outer office and returning with a chair and a steaming cup. The former she sat on, the latter she passed to him. He gratefully accepted it and took a sip; it burned his throat with more than heat. “What did you put in this?” he croaked.
“Brandy. Just a touch. Well, maybe two touches. It’s good for a shock.”
Max shrugged and took another sip.
“Now,” said Mrs G. “You can’t tell me? Or you don’t want to tell me?”
Max sighed. “The latter, really.”
“Why?” she insisted.
“I might get you in trouble. Somepony’s asked me to do something, something wrong, and I think... I think I might do it.” Surely it was for the best for him to keep quiet, to not let Buttercup get hurt, but what would that make him?
She cocked her head. “If it’s wrong, why are you thinking of doing it? Is somepony threatening you? Threatening me? I can take care of myself, you know.”
“No, nothing like that. It’s just that it’s not very wrong, I think. But if I do the right thing, then somepony will get hurt - somepony I care about.”
“Are you sure no one’s threatening somepony? The Duchess? Or Buttercup?” He twitched at the green mare’s name.
“No, it’s not like that. I just don’t know what to do! Either way, something bad happens. I let something wrong - something illegal - slide, or someone I care about gets hurt.”
Mrs G leant back, chewing for a moment. “Seems clear to me, then. You let whatever this illegal thing is happen, and no one gets hurt.”
“But it’s wrong!” cried Max. “Ponies might find out and I might lose my job. Maybe. I don’t know.” What could happen? Could he lose his title? Did he deserve to keep his title anyway, if he concealed a crime?
“You ponies, always worrying about things that might happen.” She sighed. “Tell me, what do you feel you should do?”
“I don’t know, I keep trying to think, but I can’t...”
“No! Not what you think you should do, what you feel you should do. You see, Max, you’re good at feeling; you just know what to do. When that avalanche happened back in Innsbuck, did you think about it? Or did you just do what you felt you should?”
“I... I just did it.”
“You’re not a big thinker, Max, and that’s not always bad. When you try to think a situation through, you tend to tie yourself up in knots, but when you feel things, it’s normally the right thing. So what do you feel is right?”
Max took a deep breath and tried to quiet his frenzied mind. What did he feel? What Buttercup was doing was illegal; she could hurt herself and she was tricking Rolling. It was wrong! But she was doing it out of love - she loved her father and wanted him to be well - would he act any differently about his mother in the same situation? Should he let her off because of that? Could he trust his heart to be impartial after what they had done together?
“Have you decided?” asked Mrs G gently.
“No, I still don’t know. But thanks anyway.”
“Any time dearie. And regardless of what you do choose to do, I will support you.”
Max felt a warm glow at his assistant’s loyalty. It was also a little scary; what had he ever done to deserve it? “So what do I do now?” asked Max.
“That’s up to you, really. I think you need to talk to somepony else, and I think you know who that is, assuming this isn’t about her.”
“Fragrant,” he nodded. “But I don’t want to get her in trouble.”
“Then try to be more subtle. Try not to mention it’s something illegal, that will probably get her in a tizzy. Whatever it is, she’ll be able to help. She’s a smart mare, the opposite of you; she knows how to think, but she’s not so good at feeling. Maybe she can come up with some way to get you out of this.”
“Thanks, Mrs G,” said Max, finishing his drink. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Considerably less, I expect. Anyway, if you happen to pass by the kitchens, can you get me a donut? I’m feeling a little peckish.” she smacked her lips.
Max laughed, almost forgetting his troubles for a moment. “Will do, Mrs G,” he agreed.
After a trip to the canteen for Mrs Gobhar’s cake, Max made his way towards Fragrant’s office. He considered for a while returning the pasty directly to Mrs G, or maybe he should do some research on medical spells to better understand what was going on, or... no, he was just trying to delay himself.
With a sigh, he pushed the door open. Within stood Notebook and about half a dozen other members of Fragrant’s staff. “Greetings, baron,” said the solemn stallion with a slight bow.
“Evening. Is Fragrant free? I want to talk to her about something,” said Max, shuffling slightly. Was it really fair to bring her into this?
“The Duchess has some free time at the moment, although she has a cabinet meeting in about half an hour. I will see if she will speak with you.”
“I’ll just show myself in,” offered Max. Fragrant had been quite free with her time in the past.
“My lady might be working on something important. I should check,” stressed Notepad.
“Alright,” said Max, as the other stallion entered Fragrant’s inner office. The servant had been rather precious about his mistress’ time for the last week or so; almost protective. Max couldn’t think what had caused it. Maybe she was too busy to see him now; he should come back later. He was just turning to leave when Notebook returned.
“Duchess Posey will see you now,” he announced.
With a nod, Max walked into Fragrant’s room to find her putting aside some papers. “Letters to my family,” she explained. “What can I do for you, Baron Max?” She was wearing a simple green dress with a long cape thrown over her back, covering her wings.
Max sighed. He’s had difficulty talking to Fragrant for the last week or so; she seemed formal and distant. They still talked most days, but she stuck to business where possible. He supposed it was because his ‘apprenticeship’ to her was coming to an end. They were both supposed to write reports to the Princess before court closed for the summer, and that was only about a month away. Max hadn’t started his yet, but he had hoped that it wouldn’t change their relationship much. But he supposed that once she didn’t have to look after him so much, she would move on to more profitable uses for her time. “Umm, I have a query. Well, more a situation. A hypothetical situation.”
Fragrant raised an eyebrow. “A hypothetical situation? Mou... Baron Max.” She didn’t sound convinced.
“Yes, totally hypothetical.” He couldn’t let on what was happening. If he told her, she’s be duty bound to report it, and she probably wouldn’t be as conflicted as he was. She certainly didn’t feel the same way about Buttercup... or if she did, she hid it well. “What if you have a decision to make, and whichever side you choose someone loses? How do you decide what to do?”
She thought for a moment. “Max, you’ve been at court for several months now, and even before that surely you had to make such decisions in Nulpar? It’s part of our job to make hard decisions, and live with the consequences. Every grant offered to one province is one less for another; a hospital built in one place won’t be built in another.”
“Well, yes, but I want to know how you make up your mind.”
“It varies depending on the situation.” She lowered her gaze for a moment, then looked up again. “I tend towards the greatest good for the greatest number, where possible. I research my decisions as best I can, like last week’s builder contract. Remember? We went over the details and decided that Fisher’s proposal was the best.”
“Yes,” nodded Max. What was the greatest good in this situation? He informed on Buttercup, and Rolling was humiliated and she might go to jail. He didn’t, and nopony got hurt, unless somepony found out; then not only would the same happen, but he would be in trouble too. Which was better? And, of course, if she carried on using untested magic, Buttercup could get hurt.
“What if both options lead to bad things?”
“The least bad for the least number?” mused Fragrant. “Max, what is this about?” she said suspiciously.
“It’s nothing. Just a decision I have to make.” He so wanted to tell Fragrant, but he couldn’t. She didn’t deserve more trouble from him after his fight with Fisher, and being tricked by Greengrass.
“Max!” she said sharply. “Nopony’s asked you to do something for them, have they? They haven't offered you a...” her voice wavered. “A bribe?” She swallowed hard, looking up into his face.
Max was surprised by her extreme reaction. “No, no, I’d never do that. Nopony’s offered me anything.”
She looked relieved. “Good, because nothing good comes of that sort of thing. Once you start down that path, it always dogs your steps. It’s always with you, always, and the world has ways of punishing that sort of thing. Seriously punishing you.”
“What do you mean?” asked Max, Fragrant seemed really on edge about this, but surely she couldn’t be speaking from personal experience. Could she?
“It’s just something you shouldn’t do. I don’t want to talk about it right now.”
“Well, it’s not that. I just have a hard decision to make. It’s about Nulpar,” he lied. “It’s about the cost of the emergency fund versus the benefits it can provide.”
“Oh, well, if that’s all it is, I’m sure we can talk it over later. Work out some sort of compromise.”
Compromise! thought Max. Was there some way he could change his situation, some way Buttercup could make it all less... wrong?
“Max, is this something more personal than just your province?” asked Posey, her eyes narrowing. “Does the decision effect somepony you know?”
Max nodded. In a way, that was right.
“I know it’s hard, but personal always is,” she continued. “You just have to try and do what’s best for all of your people, not just your friend. We all have to put our own happiness behind us in this job and do what’s right.” She shuddered slightly. “Regardless of what we might think.” She looked over at the clock. “I have to go, I have a meeting with the princess, but I hope we can talk about this later. Maybe you can even tell me what it’s really about.” She walked over to him, and for a moment it seemed like she would hug him. He really could do with a hug right now. But instead she held out a hoof, which he shook.
“Thanks,” he said. “You’ve given me a lot of things to think about.”
Thoughts continued to swirl through Max’s head as he wandered through the corridors of the castle. He thought he knew what he had to do, what compromise he could take to make the best of things, but it would still hurt almost everypony involved. Still, his conscience gnawed at him. He was so engrossed he almost walked into another pony; he only noticed at the last moment and only just managed to step aside in time. “Sorry,” he apologised, looking down at the pony. “Duke Greengrass?!” He growled, almost wishing he walked into the shorter stallion.
“Indeed,” agreed the Duke. “Ah, are you still sore about that little misunderstanding last week?”
“You tricked me!”
“I was as surprised as you were to find out those figures were wrong. I’ve no head for numbers myself; I leave that sort of thing to Notary. Anyway, if you want to try and make things right, I’m sure we can put our heads together. Maybe get Fisher another grant?”
“You shouldn’t have tried to change the vote in the first place!”
“Anyway,” said Greengrass brushing aside Max’s protests, “What has you storming around the place like a manticore with a thorn in its paw?”
“It’s none of your business!” yelled Max with rather too much force.
Greengrass raised an eyebrow. “Something up between you and Duchess Posey? Anything to do with you escorting dear Buttercup to Puissance’s Jubilation? You really shouldn’t talk to De Salad unless you want the wrong court to know about it.” He grinned. “He’s quite the incorrigible gossip. If he wasn’t quite so boring, he might actually be useful. Still, I suppose I should be congratulating you. Buttercup is such a sweet thing, isn’t she? Her father asked me to escort her to ball a few months ago; it was such a shame she was sick.”
“No, it’s nothing to do with that!”
“Rather defensive, aren't you?” He grinned.
“I have a decision, a difficult one.” Max paused for a moment. Greengrass, of all his disagreeableness, was good at worming his way out of things. Maybe he could think of some way to deal with Max’s problem. “How do you decide what to do when faced with a decision?”
“Me?” Greengrass actually seemed surprised that Max was asking him. “I always act in the best interest of my people...” he said piously. “Or myself, the two are generally the same, really. Whichever option gives the greatest benefit. Although I must admit I sometimes choose the more complicated option, just to test myself, you know.”
Max narrowed his eyes. He couldn't believe that a member of the court would admit to being so self-serving. Then he paused. Maybe he could do the reverse. He couldn’t come out of this situation in any way benefiting. He’d have to give up everything. He gulped. He’d have to give up Buttercup; it was the only way he could square things with his conscience. “That you, duke,” he mumbled.
“Sorry?” asked Greengrass in surprise.
“I said thank you. I have to be off now.” He took off at a gallop.
“What was that all about?” murmured Greengrass. For a moment he considered following the baron, but he decided against it. It was probably something trivial, like whether to save a puppy or a kitten, and he had a much more important errand to run right now.
“Buttercup?” asked Max as he opened the door to Baron Fields’ small office.
The green mare looked up from her desk and the forms on it. For a moment she smiled at Max, then panic started to grow in her eyes. “Max!”
“Your father isn’t here, is he?” asked Max as his eyes flicked around the room.
“No, he’s in a meeting. He’s feeling well at the moment. He told me to take the rest of the night off, but I’ve got so much to do.” She tapped her hooves nervously on the desk. “You... you’ve decided then?”
Max sighed and pulled up a chair to place in front of the younger mare. “Yes. It wasn’t easy. What you’re doing is wrong, using illegal magic on the baron, and worse, without his permission. I should report it, but... I’m not going to.”
“Oh, Max! Thank you!” She threw her hooves around the baron and hugged him tight. He remained stiff not reciprocating. For a moment he had a vision of her covered in a black ooze. She drew back, looking worried. “Max?”
“I’m not going to report what I saw. This time.” The words hung in the air for a moment. “But if I even think that you are using that spell again, then I will. Regardless of the consequences for you, the Baron and myself.”
“But, if I stop...”
“Your father will get weaker. He’s an old stallion.”
A look of horror passed over Buttercup’s face. “No, please, Max,” she pleaded. “The spell will only work for another year or so. Give me that! There’s so much more he can do!”
“No.” Max shook his head slowly. “No, it’s not right, it’s not what he would want. Him, to live at a cost to you? And you don’t know what that spell could do to you.”
“But his memory... his mind... how will he work?”
“He can’t. Even with the spell, it’s clear he can’t keep this up much longer. Talk to him, tell him it’s time for you to take over. Let him rest so his... his last years are peaceful.”
“No, no. I can’t... I can’t do this... I can’t let him go.” She tugged at her mane in distress.
“You have to. He’s had an excellent run, but everything comes to an end eventually. Better than it’s now, rather than him making a fool of himself later. He’ll argue, but you have to convince him. I think he knows it’s his time.”
Buttercup opened her mouth to argue further, then shut it again. She huddled against herself, seeming to shrink for a moment. “You’re right. I just don’t want to lose my daddy.”
Max had told himself he had to be strict during this meeting, but the sight of Buttercup so withdrawn broke him. He reached out with a hoof and rested it on her back. “You won’t lose him. He’ll be so proud of you. You’ll see.”
“I... I suppose so.” A thought seemed to strike her. “If you think what I was doing was so wrong, why do you want me to become baroness? Shouldn’t it be somepony else?”
He sighed. “Maybe, but you did it out of love. If you can show the same love for your people, then I can’t think of any better hooves to put Houyhnhnm in. Plus I hope that you’ll remember this and make sure you never do anything like it again; that it makes you better. I certainly hope I never have to.” He winced slightly.
“I’m sorry for putting you through this, Max. I really am.”
“I know you are. Still, we also have to get Eloi to stop using the spell anymore. At least until it can be fully tested.”
“Don’t worry. Part of my payment to him is a very comfortable retirement to Houyhnhnm; he won’t want for anything. I doubt he’ll try to sell his services again. Besides, he’s heard some rumours of somepony important at court abducting unusual ponies like him. He’s a bit paranoid about it, so I doubt he’ll cause too much of a fuss.”
“Good.” Max steeled himself; this next part would be hard. He tried not to look into her shining green eyes. “Buttercup, I know you didn’t mean this to happen, but you were still doing wrong and you’ve made me do wrong as well and... and I don’t think I can be with you anymore.”
“Oh! Max, you don’t...” She looked at him. “You do mean it, don’t you?”
Max nodded. “If I’m with you, I’ll always wonder if I did all this just because of that, rather than because it was the best option.”
“I’m sorry. Can we... can we still be friends, at least?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think I can be near you for a while, at least. But yes, I hope we can be friends, given time.” He stood and, still trying not to look at her, turned to the door.
“Max.” He turned and met her gaze. “We had a good night, though, didn’t we? I think I’ll remember it forever, our Jubilation.”
A small smile crept over Max’s face. “We had an amazing Jubilation, Buttercup.”
Max plodded through the remainder of the night almost in a daze. He had a few meetings, a committee, another railroad magnate telling him it wasn’t economical to run a line to Nulpar; but if you asked him, he couldn’t tell anypony what they were actually about. Almost without realising it, he found himself on the top of the castle, waiting for the sun to rise. He came here quite often, nowadays; the guards didn’t bother him since his first ascent. He suspected that Luna was aware of his presence on her roof, but if that was true, she hadn’t mentioned it in any of the brief meetings he’s had with her over the last few months.
He sighed as the sky started to brighten, heralding the start of another day. Well, he had made his decision; he still wasn’t sure it was the right one. He felt dirty; he had disregarded the law in order to help a friend, a lover. As a baron of the Night Court, wasn’t he supposed to be better than that? A paragon of nobility? It didn’t seem like most of the rest of the court thought so. It had been creeping up on him for months now, but the court didn’t seem to be how he thought it would be. Everything was just so complicated. In a way, he longed for the way things were in Sadlzburg; it was hard to get anything done, but as long as he kept pushing, he got there eventually. Here, no one even seemed to notice him. He felt helpless and useless.
“Max!” came a cry. “Give me a hoof!”
Max looked around in confusion. He couldn’t see anypony about. To his surprise, a grey caprine head popped up over the lip of the roof. “Mrs G?! What are you doing up here?” he asked as he trotted over to help the old goat.
“I came to see if you were alright,” she said as she took his hoof and, surprisingly gracefully, flipped herself onto the top of the tower.
“How did you even know I was up here?”
“Well, I looked in most of your other haunts, then remembered you’d mentioned you come up here to think.” She gazed out and down on the city below. “You’re right, the view is lovely.” The two of them stood in silence for a moment. “You look a bit better. Did you come to a decision about your problem?” she asked.
Max nodded.
“And did it work out?”
“Maybe. I don’t know. I don’t think I did right, but I could have done worse.”
“I’m sure you did your best dear, you always do.” She produced a flask from somewhere and began to pour two cups of tea. “And remember, I’ll always be here to help you as much as I can.” She gently butted her head against his side in the goat equivalent of a nuzzle.
“That’s Mrs G,” said Max with a smile, laying his forearm over her back. Something occurred to him. “Oh, I remembered your cake.” He took out a now rather battered confectionary and handed it to the goat, who took it with a smile and began to nibble on it.
Suddenly Max made out the sound of wings, and he turned, expecting to see a squad of guards come to check on him and Mrs G. But to his surprise, Fragrant rose into view, the cape removed from her outfit to allow her wings free movement. It occurred to Max that he hadn’t seen her fly often before; her wing span was rather impressive, and her feathers perfectly preened.
“Max!” she cried, dragging his attention back to her face.
“Duchess! What are you doing here?” asked Max as she landed in front of him, folding her wings up again.
“I asked her, dearie,” said Mrs G. “I ran into her when I was looking for you. I said you might be up here.”
“I... I was worried about you, Max,” said Fragrant. “After our talk earlier, I was worried you’d do something rash.”
“No need to worry about that, I dealt with it,” said Max with a weak smile.
“So things are alright?”
“I’ve dealt with it for the moment.”
“And you still don’t want to tell me what it was all about?” Mrs G passed the pegasus a cup of tea which she took and sipped, grimacing slightly. It was rather bitter.
“I... I can’t.”
Fragrant settled down next to Max, daintily folding her legs under herself. “You’d tell me if it was too serious, wouldn’t you? You don’t have to keep things to yourself. You have friends; Mrs Gobhar, me, even Buttercup, now.” She winced for a moment, then noticed that Max did the same. “Max, has something happened with Buttercup?” she asked sharply.
“I... we’re not together. I think we just broke up,” he mumbled.
“Oh, Max, is that what this was about?” A sliver of relief flowed into her voice, but was cut off quickly. “Did she ask you to do something?” Her voice hardened.
“I don’t want to talk about it right now,” mumbled Max. “Can we just watch the sunrise for a bit? That always makes me feel better.”
“Of course, Max,” said Fragrant, stretching a wing gently over his back. On his other side, Mrs G leaned into him. And in front of them the sun slowly stretched its way over the horizon, bringing light and warmth to the land again, and another day began.
“I think that should be worth a bit or two, don’t you, Dirt?” said Odelia. The young Zebrony was standing in the reception of the spa with a green unicorn with a greasy mane.
“A few,” admitted Dirt Digger as he handed over a purse with a scowl. “But please call me Mr Digger. You’re sure you don’t know exactly what your uncle was doing and where he went?”
“No, I just know he was casting some illegal magic for Baron Fields and his daughter, that Baron Max found out but he covered it up. Then Uncle said he was going traveling again, and he was off.”
“If you do come across any useful information, you’ll contact me right?”
“Of course,” said the Zebrony mare, looking around with a sigh. “I’ll need all the money I can get to keep this place going.”
The green unicorn nodded absently as he left for the door. He couldn’t care less what happened to her. Deep in thought, he considered what he could do with the information that had just fallen into his lap. Buttercup playing around with illegal magic, now that he could put to personal use. The gorgeous mare would be much more receptive to his advances, now that he had some leverage. Baron Mounty Max’s complicity in the matter - that, he wasn’t sure about. He didn’t know the new baron well. It was always dangerous approaching a new victim you didn’t know much about; you never knew how they would react to one of his offers. He chewed his lip for a moment. Maybe he’d be better off selling that titbit to another member of his trade; he might even make a profit on it. But whom? He thought for a moment then smiled. She would be perfect.
Smiling, he headed back to his quarters, already mentally composing the letter he would write.
Dear Zizanie