Chapter 6
The gryphon and his followers led them to the heart of the camp. And there they saw dozens of faces, moving from tent to cabin or towards the ridges with purpose. A patrol came in on the wing; another departed by foot. None of them wore any colors, but Dusty could tell that many of them had once been soldiers and that others had fallen into line.
“As much as it loathes me to say it,” said Char, each step leading them towards the largest hut like the patient sea, “this land still belongs to the ponyfolk. As inhospitable and damned as it is.”
“The three tribes once ruled here,” said Bruce. “But that was centuries ago. The gryphons haven't moved in?”
Char waved a black wing dismissively. “It is not like us to share much territory, even for such a grand claim. Besides. The cursed land tends to keep everyone towards the outer ranges. Even coming in as far is this is considered ill fortune.”
Dusty bounded ahead, pushing his way through the other ponies, who grumbled and shoved him on the way. “I wanted to ask you about that,” he said. “First about the... curse, if there is one... and why this is called Camp Firelight. Does it have to do with the beacons?”
The gryphon stared at him, and though no one else had seemed to notice, he found it strange and silent. Then he just shook his head. “I will explain our purpose only because I believe that you can further it. But first, a warm fire and fresh vittles. You need not worry about your ship. I assure you that our guards will be ever vigilant in watching it against the snow and wind...”
#
They met in the Great Hall, a half dug out pit surrounded by rising cabin walls. A bright fire roared in the center, the smoke vanishing somewhere near the ceiling. Magic, Dusty though. And magic that kept the place from somehow being as hot as a sauna and as comfortable as a spring day.
“We don't get a lot in the way of fresh vegetation around here, but we make do,” Char explained. While he certainly had his own appetite to tend to, he maintained a polite company and shared the same wide spread of hard breads and foraged snowberries. “The constant string of weather makes it impossible to grow more than a small crop around the year. Fortunately no one has seen fit to slash our supply lines...”
“That's because no one in their right minds would want to lay claim to this hellhole,” said Galebright. The pegasus sat down close to the fire—close enough that Bruce, trying to join her, had to move back from the sheer heat of the flame. She smashed a handful of berries on bread and set it on a stone, shoving it closer.
“So why all the effort guarding it?” Bruce wondered. “You could come home any time you want...”
“We're doing our duty to the crown,” she said, eyes locked the fire. The edges of the bread were beginning to tint brown, then gold, and the smell of sweet fruit filled the air. “Working day and night to restore this land to its former glory. It would also improve relations with the gryphons...”
“And make it easier to keep the giant beasties out,” chuckled Char. Dusty thought he heard something distant and otherworldly howl, but no one paid it any mind. He rubbed his head and drank as much water as he could manage, hoping it would help.
Ivory lay down near the fire and laughed. “So you think that after hundreds of years things can just go back to the way they were?”
“We've got to try,” said Galebright, raising an eyebrow. “And seeing as you're traveling with one of the Princess' men, I would guess that she thinks something can be done as well.”
All eyes fell upon Bruce. Dusty would have felt more insulted if he didn't have his snout buried in a tankard of apple cider.
“If that were the purpose she hasn't told me,” he chuckled, hiding his uncertainty. Galebright still would not look at him, no matter how hard he tried. “I was sent along to ensure the safety of these two... it's their mission to recover some lost artifact from the cloud city.”
Galebright drew back the stone, lifted the bread, and bit deep. And smiled. Dusty thought she did, however brief it might have been when the berries first hit her tongue. So much so that he began to quietly imitate her preparations.
“She is not always direct in her intentions,” she said, “but not misleading. Perhaps what you are looking for and what we need are one in the same. Were the situation better, we could show you there ourselves.”
Bruce frowned. “What's the 'situation'?”
Char tapped his talons against stone. “Frost shrikes from the west. Snow wolves from the north. And we believe that some of the ancient mounds have been coming to life. We may be soldiers but we are not exterminators nor are we here to wage war against the wilds. Our only lucky stroke so far is that they seem to be mere beasts, not an organized force. But you need not occupy yourselves with our fight.”
“Just point us the right way and we'll get it done,” said Dusty, his snout now covered in berry juice.
“Were it so easy.” The gryphon sighed. “The frost shrikes,” he said, and Dusty could barely imagine what they must be, some snowy bird of formidable size, “have set up several roosts in the old city. If you go there alone you're going to be torn to shreds.”
“Have you ever seen one?” Galebright laughed. “Bigger than Char here, and most of that is beak and talon. What's left is a mottled mess of pure hate that'll freeze you dead in an instant. And if you're scared enough, well... you just might manage to outrun them. Maybe.”
Dusty pondered. “Well, maybe an invisibility spell...”
“No. We tried that once. Clever bastards played along. Long enough for our men to get cocky and go to the middle of their nests before being ripped to shreds. They don't need to see you. They can feel the heat from your body.”
“Then what are we going to do?”
“We've made a lure,” she said. “A mess of magic. That should get even the stubborn ones to chase us. There are nets set up on the south ridge. We're going to lure them out and then capture them.”
“So that takes care of that problem...”
Galebright laughed. “Our runners are fast, our aim true. Of course it'll only keep the place clear until something else decides to move in. More shrikes. Wisps. Or maybe something even worse is lurking.”
He chowed down the rest of his food thoughtfully. “When is the operation?”
She glanced at Char. The gryphon sighed.
“I had been wanting to put this off until we could lure more of them into the ridge... but given your sudden arrival, expedience may be necessary. Galebright, tell the others that we will be going through with the plan tomorrow morning.”
The pegasus shoved the stone back into the fire and stood. Several of the ponies present were already murmuring amongst themselves but they quieted down when she so much as looked their way. “Yes, sir,” she said, and departed.
As she did, a pleasant chatter rose from the ponies around the fire. Dusty stared into the whisking flames and could not help but think of the vision that had led him there in the first place. An undecipherable amount of time later, he heard Char speaking.
“... make any preparations you need to before the morning. You can spend the night here in the hall. It's not very private but you will be safe.”
“Uh?” Dusty said, and looked up. The gryphon just stared at him. “Yeah,” he said. “We'll be ready.”
The gryphon just chuckled, shook his head, and left. Dusty looked over towards the others. Bruce was busy chatting up a couple of the old guards.
“You know, the palace hasn't been the same without you.”
“There are times when I miss the mild weather and the comfortable beds... and our beloved princesses. But our duty is here.”
“Yeah, and the last time you 'volunteered' to guard the royal baths....”
Dusty couldn't hear much more over the boistrous laughter. Even Ivory was over on the other side of the pit, prodding Bruce incessantly.
“You still haven't told me what your deal is with Gale.”
“We worked together,” the old soldier said wryly.
Ivory frowned. “That's not what I meant.”
“Well, maybe I'll tell you when you're older.”
Dusty folded his wings about himself and curled up on the woven rug. He tried to sleep but found the fire too hot, the room too noisy, and yet somehow perversely empty. The cold seemed to managed to bite him from outside the sweltering, blurry hall. At the far corners of the world, he felt positively tiny.
And seemed to shrink inside until he winked out into slumber.
#
How long he had been sleeping, he didn't know. The fires in front of him roared out of control, and all beyond the hall was blackness. Two? Sweat rolled down his back and he rolled it off of his wings as he stood and spun about. Black stone propped him up in the void. He tried to call out for his friends and found nothing came out.
“What's this?” A strange voice echoed. “It isn't safe for you here, little pony.”
Stilted. Dusty reefed on his hooves to find that they were frozen to the ground and stared up at the two pyres that now seemed as bright and large as twin suns. The voices seemed to be emanating from them. Old, gruff, somehow familiar.
“Where's that bravado you love so much? Can't speak? That's too bad.”
Ice was beginning to coalesce around his legs, freezing them numb. He felt the echo of a chill working down as the sweltering heat bore upon him from above. His mane flickered and then sprung up like a brushfire. He felt only the ghost of pain and grunted as the antipodal elements pinned him from either side.
“Stripped of everything, and your only choice is the frost or the flame... can't make up your mind? That's alright. We can always do it for you.”
The pegasus flared his wings out to his sides and bared his teeth. He locked eyes with the terrifying flames, now like a pair of ruby eyes glowering in the empty sky. He couldn't squeak out so much as a thought, but he demanded answers anyway. Why? Why him? What was the meaning behind the flame, this place?
“Choose, little pegasus. Then perhaps you will understand where you are.”
Flames broiled around him and the unmeltable ice gave way. He forced his eyes open to the blackness, silhouettes of pegasi drifting in their ancient home. Before the snow came, when great beasts lurked in the shadows and the brave ponies struggled to keep it safe. Families in the shadows, strange metals licked by flame and transmuted into vapors. The images made no sense. The torches made no sense. There was no such monument in the old kingdom.
“It's right in front of you. Open your eyes.”
Dusty blinked and still the void swirled in front of him. Then the soft tap of hooves on stone. Someone approaching—a unicorn? From out of the flames a ruby silhouette. Their body an inferno with a twisted smile. It lowered its horn which curled with a rainbow of fire and brought it closer and closer.
“You'd better open your eyes...”
Was it him thinking, or a warning? Dusty frantically tried to wake up, but found himself rooted in place in space and time. Then the unicorn turned, and stood in front of his friends. Ivory. Dusty. The Princess. Everypony he'd ever met and many he hadn't. And one by one burned them to dust.
Finally the figure turned to Dusty and chuckled. “It's not like you could help it anyway.” The prismatic flame caught on his feathers and seared through him and like a phoenix he immolated and everything went white.
#
In the great hall, lit only by the glow of embers, Dusty snapped awake and stood, poised for flight. He panted and swallowed his muted scream before wiping the sweat from his brow.
A nightmare. Strange... I'm not usually bothered by places like these.
He looked around the room as his eyes adjusted to the light. No guards—not inside at least, aside from the ones sleeping in snug circles around the cushioning and fire pits. Bruce had fallen asleep where he had spent the night.
Ivory...?
Dusty looked to the other side and heard a soft snore. His friend had apparently come back, just a hooves' reach from him. He smiled a little. However she was sleeping, she didn't seem to be suffering the same visions that he was.
He tiptoed his way outside and gave the doors, thankfully unbarred, a nudge. They groaned softly and the wind coaxed from the outside, but after his dream he was quiet willing to step from the heat to the chill.
Two ponies glanced at him as he stepped outside.
“Shut the door,” one of them cautioned, and that was all. Dusty nodded and did so before wandering into the field.
The snow had stopped completely now, and he could see the stars above. The moon leaned towards Canterlot, as if longing for its keeper. Everything was quiet and still.
A taloned hand set upon Dusty's shoulder and he jumped.
Char chuckled. “Never did rest easy before a mission myself,” he muttered. “Too official. Too much pressure and too much on the line. Things used to be simpler before the ponies came back. Cursed, but simple.”
“How long have you been here?” Dusty asked, and the gryphon raised an eyebrow as if his question had been more than a little immodest.
“Longer than you have been alive,” he said. “Long enough to know that reason that wild beasts don't like to come up here.”
Dusty blinked. “Why is that?”
“Well, you don't seem like the sort to believe in superstition.” The gryphon splayed his pinions. “Back when the valley was full of ponies, there was apparently a pegasus and a unicorn who commited a treasonous act. Since imprisonment was impractical and exile was no better, well...”
The twin pyres flashed in Dusty's mind and the heat drained from his face. “What...”
Char slapped him back on the wing. “They were publicly denounced and had their effects destroyed. A unicorn's things are rather dangerous... doubly so for one who has been wronged. And magic released can sustain a fire for a very long time.”
The pegasus sighed, unsure whether to be comforted or not. “Not exactly the song and marshmallow fare.”
“This is more of a cider gang anyway. People believe what they want to. But even stories around here tend to take a life of their own, so we have to be very careful.”
Dusty drew a hoof for the snow. “The only story on my mind is the one where I find the treasure and go home for a good celebration.”
“That's the spirit,” said Char. “Now why don't you get some real rest?”
“Yeah, I...” the pegasus looked down. “Could you do me a favor?”
“Perhaps.”
“My friends... they won't be able to come to the city with me.”
“Oh, we can probably dredge up somepony that knows the Cloudwalker enchantment... we don't have much use for it but someone is bound to know it.”
Dusty winced. Even if they did, it wouldn't stick to Ivory. “I need to do this myself,” he said. “I can't let them be in any danger.”
“Sounds like someone wants to be a hero. Not that I'm going to stop you.”
“It's like you and Gale said.” Dusty swallowed. “There's no telling what might be lurking in there. I know I dragged them across the world for this, but this place... I won't risk them. Make sure they stay safe.”
The gryphon started to walk away. “Fine. But you're going to have to be the one to convince them to stay.”
“Don't worry about it,” Dusty said. He stood in the snow and watched the gryphon depart, and as soon as he was certain that he was alone, he flew.
The lookouts would probably see him, but it didn't matter if they knew he was going. They didn't stop him, and he wasn't going to give Ivory the chance to say no. In all of his expeditions and adventures, he'd never traveled alone. Someone always had his back. In his gut, though, he felt as if the jaws of something sinister were closing about him.