The Alistair and Shale Press crept briskly along the near vacant Canterlot streets, both their bodies hunched in a predator-like stance as they skittered through the city’s ornate shadows.
Their journey thus far had been a tedious but yet worrisome journey through a metropolis that seemed to hold a bipolar nature to it from sunrise to sunset. In the day, a bustling center point of culture and class among the nation’s highest of the elite. And at night, a dead vacuum of emptied shops and cafes, with the activity of just a few hours previous seeming as distant as the stars gleaming dully overhead.
But the two were not here to consolidate the snooty ponies that clung to the city like solidified honey. They were upon an activity of their own businesses of their own motivation, and from which would most certainly stir the most famed of capital’s citizens.
As for now, the bulk of their mission was nearly complete. They had traversed the winding rows of residential blocks, infiltrated the Royal Canterlot Castle grounds, scaled the mighty white stone walls of the royal residence, and had moved without a hitch through the confusing sprawl of the outer pavilion gardens.
This left them waiting for their reported contact between a row of hedges and a landscaping structure connected to the fortified spire, crouched in cautious anticipation while casting glances every which way in search of any wandering Guards.
Alistair, a young male with a slight skittishness to his voice which he attempted to hide, whispered to the mare beside. “Is he coming?”
Shale nodded. “He’ll be here. We’re more than likely a few minutes ahead of schedule.”
“That’s good,” the youngster replied with a slight ease to his posture. “I was beginning to think we’d have to improvise.”
The mare briefly scanned the perimeter as she responded. “If that we’re the case then we’d probably just scrape the entire operation and try again later. Our Order has learned that detailed plans are always the key to success.”
“I assume the Night Lords learned this lesson the hard way?”
“Oh yes, we did. There of course was the little excursion we had involving you in Ponyville a few years back, but the real prize went to a horridly botched operation about twenty years ago.”
“There was charity fundraiser back in Fillydelphia, real high-class occasion, city councilors, business executives, even a few military dignitaries stopped by if you could believe it. And in this wild frenzy of the influential was one embedded agent, posing as a lowly civil servant that was dragged along for the ride."
“He was armed with a pair of well hidden blades, just to be certain that if his cover ever got blown he'd be able to hold his own against any of the high-ranking Sun Guards that were scattered about. To monitor whatever important information that was being discussed among the gathered ponies, the agent had a little tape recorder stuffed into his curly mane."
“His orders was to keep a low profile and play a bored persona throughout the party. But then, suddenly in walks the Mayor of Fillydelphia himself, completely unannounced, and starts gaudily meeting with the potential campaign donaters around him. The agent, seeing an excellent opportunity to get some real backroom political corruption down on tape, takes off at an excited sprint over to where the Mayor was standing. The agent tripped, was sent sprawling across the ballroom floor, and what do you bet that both the tape recorder and butterfly knives fall right out of his pockets and mane, just at the hooves of the Mayor."
"Thankfully, no doubt with a little luck granted from the Dark Queen, the crowd of socialites had just burst out laughing at one of their own jokes, which gave the agent enough time to grab his belongings and get the heck out of there. He was able to hold his cover story, but had to maintain whenever asked that the tape recorder was for an audio book he was listening to and that the knives were for his amateur manedressing career on the side." She shook her head. "It would be funny if it hadn't come so close to exposing us."
Alistair was about to pose a follow-up question to what Shale had just said; to further inquire if the organization she served had any other blunders through their long history of secrecy. However, he chose to hold his tongue, nervous that any further question may bring his standing within the Night Lords into further doubt. He was a new arrival within the peculiar group, and for now, he’d go along with his pledge and submit any which way was necessary.
Waiting a few more minutes, a sudden jangling of chains could be heard from inside the large gardener shed, followed by the telltale click of a lock and the structure’s door slowly creaking open.
Poking its head out to of the small break in the door, a peach colored colt wordlessly looked around the garden, not seeming to see the two crouched among the shadows.
“Pen!” Shale suddenly exclaimed as she hopped to her hooves and tenderly embraced the surprised colt. “I can’t believe it’s you!”
The colt, near breathless from the vice-like hug, cracked a worried smile. “Easy there, Shale. We’re still on a mission.”
She blushed and promptly let him go, her voice dropping back into a whisper. “I’m sorry, it’s just been too long, you know? With all the work that I have and the work that you have…it’s like I can’t spend anytime with my little brother.”
“I’m not that little,” he said with a playful nudge. “Old enough to actually be doing some field-work for a change.” He looked at Shale and then back around the garden. “Speaking of which, aren’t you supposed to have a trainee on this one?”
On cue with his question, Alistair cautiously stepped out of the darkened corner, feeling a slight familiarity at the colt’s voice. Keeping with the proper etiquette of a novice such as himself, he respectfully bowed to the colt.
“Ah, so you’re the recruit my sister’s trainee?” Pen said with an appraising glance toward him.
Alistair nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“Well you’re in good hoofs then; my sister’s trained plenty of other recruits around your age, and not once has she ever hit a snag too big for her to handle.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Proper etiquette too, I like that.” He glanced over at Shale. “You seem to have gotten yourself pretty well handled with this one, Shale, seems obedient enough, now we just need to see if he can hold his own.”
“He can alright,” Shale said with an approving nod. “He’s not the best and hoof-to-hoof or conventional weaponry, but his magic really is something to behold.”
Pen frowned at this, and sent another glance over to Alistair. “I thought I saw a unicorn horn poking up through that blue mane. A bit odd he’s working as a field agent instead of one of the sorcerers…”
Shale gave a stiff shrug. “It was on Master Eclipse’s orders. If it doesn’t sound right, ask him about it.”
“Okay, okay,” her brother said with hooves raised in defense. “Not trying to pry or anything, just thinking out loud. The fact still remains,” he eyed Alistair expectantly, “if he knows his role in tonight’s operation.”
Alistair was tempted to tell the patronizing colt off, or at least glare into his eyes to visually vocalize his contempt. But instead, he kept with his submissive manor.
“My objective is to maneuver through the maintenance shaft located within the building you originally entered from. Then, move through hallways B, C, and E till I reach the inner Library chamber. From there, the book should be located in one of the sealed containers dotted along the main level, cleverly disguised as ascetic cylinders.
“Hmmm,” Pen said flatly as he turned back to Shale. “I would be lying if I said that things are going to go exactly as planned, but this kid seems like he’s going to hold up his end.”
“Alright,” he said as he began to nudge Alistair toward the unlocked shed door, “in you go. Let’s see if you really are Night Lord material.”
As he was led forwards, Alistair gave one last reassuring smile to Shale until he was fully pushed through the doorway. Almost immediately, Pen clicked the door behind him and the sound of rattling locks on the other end could be heard.
For the first time in quite awhile, Alistair was alone once again.