It had been hours since they’d begun their march.
Twilight trudged forward, her legs moving with a mechanical will of their own as she made her way across the rocky desert terrain. The moon hung brighter in the sky than she’d ever recalled seeing it before, providing much needed illumination. She cast a quick glance back and noted that Basenji and Cadance were moving with similar sluggishness.
She knew how they felt. As much as Twilight would have loved to simply lie down in the sand and rest after their ordeal, time was of the essence. The sun had only been set for a couple of hours at most, but they had a lot of ground to cover before the sun came up. Her kit had only contained two pre-filled canteens, and without more water or a tent – a tent being yet another in the growing list of things Twilight was kicking herself for not thinking of bringing – they wouldn’t last very long under the brutal summer sun. The time crunch was especially pronounced because of the date, seeing as it was the day of the Summer Sun Celebration, which was held every year on what was officially the shortest night of the year.
As little as Twilight liked the idea, their best chance of surviving was to return to the mysteriously abandoned campsite that had started all this so they could make use of the well. Twilight had filled her saddlebags near to bursting with MRE’s the second her mind had been made up about abandoning the ship, so with the added resources of the camp, they’d be able to hold out until help arrived.
And help would arrive sooner or later, she had to keep reminding herself. They had been expected in Saddle Arabia by nightfall and even with some leeway to account for poor weather or engine troubles, the Saddle Arabians would eventually begin to worry about the fate of such an important foreign dignitary. Within a day or two they’d send out airships to search for any sign of them, and the smoke from the wreckage of Sky Chaser’s ship and the small brush fires that popped up around the crash site would be as good a beacon as any. Twilight had also arranged a number of large stones at the crash site in the shape of an arrow pointing in the direction they’d be walking.
All they had to do was stay alive until they were rescued.
Twilight frowned at that notion. Something had tried to kill them – had succeeded at killing Sky Chaser. She hadn’t known the stallion long, but she did know she could count him as a friend, and as the on-duty soldier in charge of security for their trip, his death was on her head.
A knife of bitterness and self-loathing went through her. Her first mission had failed even more spectacularly than she could have ever imagined. Their ship destroyed, a friend dead on her watch, and now she was leading the princess back into possible mortal peril.
As far as Twilight was concerned, at this point, a court-martial was too good for her.
She glanced back to check on her party again, her mind unable to shake the feeling that any second now they could be set upon by some conjured assassin. Cadance looked up from the sand and flashed a weathered grin at her friend. She returned the gesture with a false-smile of her own and turned away, unable to meet the other mare’s eyes a second longer. On any other day that small act of recognition would have sent Twilight’s heart into cartwheels, but right now all it did was rub salt in the freshest wound to her pride.
Twilight’s fit of post-battle shakes hadn’t lasted long – only long enough to be embarrassing. Cadance had taken it upon herself to pull Twilight into a hug, and hold her tight until the last of the adrenaline bled from her system. It wasn’t until Twilight got her fit under control that she realized that Cadance had been shaking just as hard, with tears in her eyes over the loss of Sky Chaser. Twilight had, for only the barest of moments, taken a guilty sort of comfort in knowing that Cadance was just as shaken by the attack, but that fact only brought about a different kind of shame.
Twilight Sparkle was a guard. She was supposed to protect her princess from terrible things, not take comfort in said princess’ fear and sadness.
Mercifully, Basenji had seen fit to give them some privacy while they sorted themselves out. He hadn’t seen what had become of Sky Chaser, and a very large part of Twilight envied that ignorance.
Twilight suddenly felt a bit of warmth at her side. Cadance had sidled up next to her and moved to press herself against Twilight’s side. It made walking awkward, but it took away a bit of the bite of the surprisingly frigid desert night.
“Are you okay?” Cadance asked quietly. Her voice sounded unnaturally loud over the steady hiss of their hooves and paws dragging over sand and the occasional clink of stone against Cadance’s shoes. Her shoes were made of the same alloy as a guard’s armor, and offered fantastic protection against the rocks and brush in their path.
“Yeah,” Twilight lied.
“Don’t do that,” Cadance said sharply. “Don’t bottle it up. Talk to me.”
“How do you know I’m bottling things up?” Twilight asked with more heat in her voice than she’d intended. She nearly flinched away at the sight of Cadance’s worried face. Even through the bloodshot eyes and tear-streaked cheeks, Twilight could see genuine concern in the other girl’s face.
“Because you said you’re fine, and nopony would be fine after… after that,” Cadance reasoned calmly. “Besides, I can sense the turmoil in your heart. Emotions are my thing, if you’ll recall.”
A little flag went up in the back of Twilight’s mind at the princess’ words, but the reason for it was lost in the haze of her fatigue. “I’m just really tired, same as you. And I’m angry – I’m angry that Sky Chaser is gone, and I’m angry at myself for not being able to save him.”
Cadance looked like she wanted to say something, and Twilight feared that she might ask for more details, so she cut her off quickly. “We can talk about it later, I promise. I’m not avoiding it, just… one thing at a time, okay? We don’t have the luxury of setting aside time for that right now.”
Cadance didn’t seem satisfied, but she backed down all the same, to Twilight’s great relief.
Twilight looked back, suddenly remembering the third member of their group. Basenji was trailing behind, but not by far. The diamond dog was moving along at the same sedate pace they were, his eyes locked to the ground. He had been silent for the last few hours of their trek, save for a few nearly silent mutterings to himself.
She considered asking what was on his mind, but the very notion felt hypocritical after the brush-off she’d just given Cadance, so she opted to simply continue walking.
For now, she was content to let what little brainpower she had busy itself over the unshakeable sense that she was missing something obvious. There was something about their predicament, about the way Sky Chaser had died, that was gnawing at her, demanding her attention.
Twilight just put the bad feeling off as exhaustion and stress, and continued to march Westward.
* * *
Hours later, they finally arrived back at the mountain. Twilight had insisted that Cadance and Basenji remain at a distance while she proceeded to check the camp once more. Given their predicament, Twilight wasn’t willing to risk any more nasty surprises.
The search took a bit longer than it had when Sky Chaser had been on her six, and Twilight felt the loss of her friend more acutely than ever as she moved from tent to tent. Even through her saddlebag she could feel a chill along her spine – a literal reminder of her figuratively exposed back.
The tents all checked out, and a quick inspection to Basenji’s ward told her that nothing had risen up from the depths of the cavern. She went to the well and performed the same spell as last time – a tiny flare of conjured fire that flickered the whole way down the shaft. She sighed in relief as the little spark hit the water and went out with a wink.
Twilight took a final trot around the perimeter, her horn aglow as she went. Every step she took left behind a small, invisible charge of magic. The arcane circuit closed once her circle was complete, and a field of magic surrounded the encampment with an alarm that would silently alert her if anything besides she or her friends approached, even from above or below ground.
She turned in the direction of the boulder that Cadance and Basenji were hiding behind and lit her horn, casting an illumination spell despite the perfectly serviceable moonlight. She covered the tiny dot of light with a hoof, removed it, and covered it again. She repeated this twice more, flashing her light three times and signaling the all clear.
Around behind one of the tents near the center of camp was a small cord of firewood, likely gathered from a wild date tree, and a small tinderbox stuffed with dry brush. She gathered the supplies and moved the disgusting cauldron of rotting muck to the edge of camp. A spark from her horn similar to what she dropped down the well was all she needed, and by the time Cadance and Basenji marched tiredly into the camp they were greeted by the warmth of a fire.
The pair flopped onto the dirt, moaning with the aches of a hard march over uneven terrain. Cadance wasn’t trained to traverse long distances on hoof like Twilight was, and their lack of rest only made matters worse. Basenji, while in better overall shape, was still in fairly poor health from the severe bout of dehydration he’d suffered only a day before. It spoke volumes to the fortitude of his kind that he was even still standing, let alone keeping up with the group.
Twilight let them catch their breath while she removed her bags and went back to the well to refill the canteens that had nearly been emptied during the trek. A wooden bucket lay next to the well, sitting upturned atop a coiled length of rope. She lowered the pail into the darkened shaft and listened for the splash as it touched down.
“Please be drinkable,” she silently begged as she reeled the line in with smooth tugs of her magic.
The water was surprisingly clear, and a cursory sniff didn’t reveal any obvious contaminants. At the very least she’d expected the water to be a bit cloudy. She cast a quick spell, releasing a glowing blue droplet of condensed magic that rolled off the tip of her horn and fell into the pail with an audible plop. She studied the water for a few moments, waiting for her spell to reveal any microscopic dangers, but the tell-tale glow of the spell coming into contact with harmful microbial agents never came.
Twilight drank directly from the bucket and sighed at the feel of cool, freshly drawn water sliding down her throat. She scooped up the rest of the water with her canteens and lowered the bucket for a second time.
Twilight untied the bucket once it was refilled and set it down on the ground in front of Basenji. “Sorry, only two canteens,” she apologized as she levitated one of the flasks to Cadance.
“This shall suffice,” Basenji answered, his voice sounding very dry. He hadn’t spoken aloud to either pony since they’d abandoned ship, and he’d only taken the barest of sips from their water rations at Cadance’s insistence. He withdrew a small drinking-gourd from his satchel and filled it before drinking deeply from the bucket.
“You guys hungry?” Twilight asked. She received two tired groans in response, which she took to mean yes.
There was a bit of light conversation as they worked out who wanted what to eat.
Cadance opted to have whatever Twilight was having, which meant ravioli drenched in cheap tomato sauce pretending to be marinara. It wasn’t even as palatable as the store-bought stuff from a can, but it was edible, and she tore into the meal like it was the best thing she’d ever eaten.
Basenji had settled for some humus with pita bread, garnished with jewels from his satchel. Cadance had flinched at the grating crunch of gems being crushed between the dog’s teeth, but Twilight was no stranger to how loud a geovore could be at the dinner table.
Twilight sat in front of the fire, her MRE package unopened, and just listened to her companions eat for a while. The crunch of jewels and the smack of lips, peppered with polite requests to pass along the little paper-packaged condiments, brought back memories of family dinners. Despite the danger, or maybe because of it, her mind grabbed onto the memories of home and sunk comfortably into their embrace.
The crack of stones being ground between sharp teeth was remarkably like the sound her dad and Shining would make as they chewed through a couple of tall glasses of ice cubes when the summer heat was in full swing. On those sunny days, everyone back home for summer vacation and sitting on a blanket on the lawn, she’d just lie in the grass and listen to the sound of the three males in her life, chatting away about work and school between the hard crunch of breaking ice and chilled gemstones. Their mother hated that sound, but only Shining and their dad ever got scolded for making it.
Twilight finally opened the package and pulled out the sterile pouch of food. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on the meal, but the first bite shook her out of the comforting fantasy straight away. It was hard to fantasize about mom’s home cooking with the spicy tang of government-issue pasta sauce on your tongue.
She sighed through her nose and resigned herself to simply filling her belly. They ate in relative quiet, everyone too famished and too weary to talk.
Twilight fished around in the packaging and the last two pre-packaged items fell to the ground. The small square packet of gum was what caught her eye immediately. The sugary treat brought to mind the argument she’d had with Sky Chaser just a few days before about whether or not soldiers were still given a ration of gum with their meals. The memory of the stallion threatened to bring tears to her eyes, and she quickly levitated the offending packet into her saddlebag.
There’d be time for that later.
Twilight held up the second of the items and tore it open with her teeth. The strong scent of cheap, highly-caffeinated coffee grounds filled her nostrils pleasingly. She dumped the packet of instant coffee grounds into her canteen, replaced the cap, and shook it vigorously.
Cadance caught on quickly and mimicked Twilight’s actions. Basenji simply sniffed at coffee grounds curiously and poured the entire thing directly into his mouth.
“Why don’t the two of you get some bunk?” Twilight suggested with a groan of relief as the caffeine hit her bloodstream and slowly beat back the fog at the edges of her vision.
“What about you?” Cadance asked, her voice laced with gentle concern. “Of the three of us, you’ve had the least amount of sleep in the last forty-eight hours.”
Twilight shook her head and gulped down another mouthful of coffee. It tasted like an old rubber tire, but it made her feel alive again. “Don’t worry about me. I don’t need sleep. Someone’s going to have to keep watch.”
“I can do it,” Cadance declared. She showed her commitment to staying awake by swigging from her canteen. She shuddered at the bitter, grainy taste of the battlefield coffee. It was unrecognizable from the smooth, cream and sugar-laden stuff she was use to being served in the castle.
“No,” Twilight answered simply. “I’m the guard. I stay up and guard.”
Basenji raised a paw between the two, effectively drawing their attention and curtailing the oncoming argument. “I do not believe any of us should sleep.”
“What does that mean?” Twilight asked as she narrowed her eyes at their diamond dog companion. “You think I can’t keep us safe while you two sleep?”
“Please, I meant no disrespect,” Basenji added quickly. “I have been meditating on the nature of our… predicament. Surely you have as well.”
Twilight rolled her shoulders, wringing out the tension with a huff. “Of course I have.”
“I have an… idea?” Basenji offered tentatively, unsure of his language. “No… a proposition?”
“A theory?” Cadance suggested.
“Yes, I have obtained a theory on our predicament, but I require more information before I dare speak of it.” Basenji took his drum and placed it in his lap, taking the position the others had come to associate with his spellcasting, but he did not play. He leaned forward, resting his body weight upon the drum, and nodded to Twilight. “I did not see the beasts clearly. What can you tell of them?”
“They weren’t natural,” Twilight answered. “That much is simple. This wasn’t just some random group of weird creatures that snuck aboard. I got a good look at the things, and I know for a fact that they were made of magic. And magic doesn’t just take the shape of murderous arachnids all on its own. Something with a deliberate will shaped raw energy into a specific form.”
“Someone wanted us dead,” Cadance summarized.
“Yeah, and they chose a pretty effective weapon to do it,” Twilight said grimly.
“But why give the beast such forms?” Basenji asked. “Why such a shape explicitly? And why attack Sky Chaser first?”
Twilight groaned. All night long she’d felt like she’d been missing something obvious. Now, removed from the scene of the battle, fed, rested, and slightly more alert thanks to chemical stimulation, the pieces started falling together.
“Blast it all,” Twilight muttered as she rubbed at her temples. “I’m an idiot. It was right in front of me this whole time.”
Twilight slammed a hoof into the dirt in frustration. If she hadn’t been so tired she would have made the connection sooner.
“Spiders!” she shouted. “Sky Chaser was terrified of the things! He told me he had arachnophobia, that they gave him nightmares. I thought he was just… messing with me…”
There was a moment of silence before Basenji spoke again. “This confirms my suspicions…” he said ominously, a slight tremble in his voice. “Greatly have the words of Dingo weighed upon me. ‘Dream no more, you who broke my seal, father’s teeth are upon you’. I believe they have importance greater than simple madness.”
“Wait,” Twilight said as she shot to her hooves. “Are you saying your brother is behind this? He tried to kill us?”
Basenji shook his head vigorously. “No! I do not believe this is so! Dingo’s words were no curse, but a warning!”
“A warning against what?”
“Against our very dreams.”
Twilight fell back to her haunches, her legs suddenly very weak as she realized that Basenji’s suggestion – his bat-shit crazy, completely insane suggestion – wasn’t just plausible, it was the most likely explanation. Sky Chaser was the focus of the attack on the ship because he was the only member of their group that actually got to sleep, and something brought his nightmares to life. Something gave his fears flesh and blood enough to tear him to bits in his bed.
It explained how the things had managed to sneak their way onto the ship. There was no way that a wily old veteran like Sky Chaser didn't have his ship rigged up with all manner of secret alarms and booby traps to catch anything trying to board without his permission. The proximity alarm spell she'd laid down suddenly felt amazingly deficient.
“Dream magic…?” Twilight whispered, only just loud enough for the others to hear her over the crackle of firewood.
Cadance’s ears perked at Twilight’s words. “That can’t be. Nopony knows dream magic anymore. Nopony is even sure it ever was a thing in the first place.”
“We’re not talking about ponies, are we?” Twilight pointed out. “You know any dream magic, Basenji?”
The dog shook his head sadly. “No. Such Ways are lost even to drummers. Dreams have great power, this we recognize, and as I have said are the Ways through which we receive wisdom from the Old Dogs. The veil between sleep and death is thin, which allows the Old Dogs to speak with us. Drummers have studied this connection to better know their words, so perhaps we understand the Ways of sleep better than most, but to directly influence the dreams of others? This is beyond even one of Dingo’s great power.”
“Can you think of anything that such abilities wouldn’t be beyond?” Twilight pressed. She was a stranger in a strange land, and only Basenji knew enough of the legends and stories of Zebrica to make sense of the situation.
“This…” Basenji looked away, his teeth grit in frustration. “This I do not know… Dingo and the others of this camp, all were summoned to this place and then, I believe, compelled to dig their way into the city below. Something within took from them their minds, then…” His throat grew tight with emotion, but he coughed out the knot in his voice with a sniff. “…then took their lives. What this something is, I cannot be sure.”
“Is that why your brother placed that seal?” Cadance asked. “To prevent whatever it is from escaping?”
Basenji nodded solemnly. “As you say. No doubt an action committed in some moment of clarity of mind. Whatever has called to them, it placed upon them a sickness, which I believe they have all succumbed to. Whatever this curse, this plague, it is of an unnatural magic – Ways not of this world. Such forces are powerful, but the earth is sacred and can withhold such evil – this have dogs believed since ancient times. Such is why diamond dogs choose to live beneath the sacred earth, though many packs without drummers have forgotten this. Perhaps the Old Dogs abandoned the city below to seal away something beyond their control.”
Twilight shot a look back towards the mountain. She could just make out the unnaturally smooth dome of Basenji’s ward over the tops of the tents. The magic in the thing seemed to reflect the moonlight in a strange way that made it stand out even clearer than during the day.
Things were starting to make sense. If Dingo knew what it was that had befallen them, it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility that he’d crafted something tailor-made to hold back whatever ancient thing had been hidden away beneath the sands.
All these diamond dogs had been called to through their dreams, tainted by some madness whispered to them as they slept. Once they’d freed whatever had summoned them, they were done away with by an unthinkable curse, crafted with knowledge lost to – and literally buried by – the sands of time.
And now she, along with her friends, were all sitting beneath the sword of that same curse, waiting for it to fall.
“I don’t sense any magic being worked on us,” she said with a shake of her head. The evidence was beginning to pile up, but she still had to be certain. She had to grasp at that last thread of possibility that they were wrong about the sinister nature of Sky Chaser’s death, and that it was just a mundane, run-of-the-mill assassination attempt. “I didn’t feel anything too overt while we were exploring below, either. How can we be sure it’s some kind of dark magic?”
“This has been on my mind,” Basenji said with a sigh. “I believe I have crafted a Way which can reveal that which is hidden.”
“Is that what you were mumbling about on the trip here?” Twilight asked.
“Yes…” Basenji answered sheepishly. “It is a bad habit, but I have been told that I, as you say, mumble as I craft when I am especially distressed.”
Before another word could be spoken of it, Basenji raised a paw and struck the first note of his improvised song.
The tempo was slow, Basenji’s paw sometimes hovering above the drumhead for several seconds before banging out the next note. Cadance and Twilight watched and waited, neither wanting to interrupt, but both unsure if the untested song was having any effect. It took some time, but it became apparently that each beat of the drum, every vibration in the air, was gradually diminishing the bright moonlight.
Twilight soon realized that, rather than the light dimming, the amount of darkness was increasing. Her mind went back to the oppressive darkness of the tunnel, and how her illumination spell could barely hold back the shadows.
As he played, the darkness gathered clearer and clearer, curling about them and hanging in the air like stray wisps of fog. Twilight looked back towards the mountain, and she could see great plumes of darkness billowing out from around the edges of Basenji’s seal, which rose into the sky to gather in an enormous cloud. Soon there was no light beyond their fire, and all three sat together, surrounded on all sides by a blanket of pitch-black nothingness. Twilight stared in wonder at their tiny fire, its warming glow the only thing holding the shadows at bay.
Basenji struck the final note, ending the spell and removing their ability to see the invisible threat even as it curled around their throats.
“It would seem I have once again proven deficient in comparison to Dingo…” Basenji commented sadly as he stared back at the poor attempt to emulate his brother’s craft.
“We have to go back in there,” Cadance stated worriedly.
Twilight stood, glaring at the princess with fire in her eyes. She wanted to shoot down the very notion that they should go back in, but her protest died on her lips.
Cadance had only said what Twilight was already thinking.
“The wellspring of this curse lies below,” Basenji said in agreement. “If we are to avoid that which I believe to be the fate of the others, we must venture forth and end this ourselves.”
“You’re right…” Twilight agreed, her voice quiet with grim resignation. “We’ve all mostly been awake for over forty-eight hours. Past seventy-two our mental faculties will begin to be severely impaired. There are reports of soldiers going beyond that in combat situations, but it’s definitely not something you want to push.”
She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, focusing on the bracing sting of the cold night air filling her lungs. “We can’t just wait for rescue, because we have no idea how long it will take them to find us. Eventually the coffee’s going to run dry and one of us is going to pass out, and whoever is awake probably won’t be in any kind of shape to fend off whatever pops out of their head.
“I’d prefer to go in alone but that’s not an option,” Twilight continued as she began pacing before the fire, much the same way she would pace in her dormitory when puzzling out a difficult homework assignment. “Basenji’s knowledge is too valuable for him to stay behind, and if he goes, you have to come too, Cadance. I don’t want you alone, not with crazy nightmare magic in play.”
Twilight froze as she felt something warm drape itself over her back. She lifted her head to find that Cadance had come to her side and pulled her close with a wing.
“It’s okay, Twilight,” Cadance said soothingly. She leaned in and nuzzled into the smaller mare’s neck. “It’s okay. We’ll do this together.”
“Indeed,” Basenji agreed. He stood and stretched the kinks from his joints with a series of satisfyingly loud pops. “The Old Dogs have already gifted us with fortune. What odds are they that have led me to join with one who controls the heavens?”
Despite the gravity of the situation, Cadance managed a kindly laugh. “Oh Basenji, I already told you, I can’t do that spell. I don’t have the skill to control the sun and moon.”
Basenji tilted his head in confusion. “Truly?” he asked as he pointed a claw to the starry sky. “If this is not your doing, then what boon has spared us the wrath of the desert sun?”
Twilight lifted her gaze to the sky and her blood went cold as she realized something else that her tired mind had failed to notice: on this, the night of the Summer Sun Celebration, the shortest night of the year, she hadn’t seen the sun in over twelve hours.
* * *
Cadance had had a minor panic attack at the realization that Princess Celestia had failed to raise the sun on time for the first time in centuries. She’d already been on edge with worry over something happening back home during the Summer Sun Celebration, but the unrisen sun proven that whatever she’d been sent away from was beyond serious.
It had taken some doing, but Twilight had finally managed to calm her princess down enough to explain that there was nothing to be done about whatever was going on in Canterlot. They were in a foreign land with no backup, and every second wasted brought them closer to exhaustion and inevitable death. They couldn’t save anypony if they were dead.
Nonetheless, Twilight’s heart was heavy with worry for the fate of their kingdom. All she could do was do her job, try to keep Cadance alive, and hope that Princess Celestia and the other Royal Guards would be able to handle whatever was happening.
And so it was that Twilight found herself making her way through the darkness, her torch leading the way into the gloom. Thanks to Basenji’s spell, they’d seen first-hoof how effective fire was at holding the darkness away. Unlike the light cast by her illumination spell, the fire’s light stayed strong and constant even as they descended deeper into the shaft. The slight increase in magical drain for a levitation spell was worth it for the return in visibility.
She kept alert for any changes in the air, movement in the darkness, or unrecognized noises in the distance. The tunnel had been eerie during their earlier trip, but now that she knew there was some kind of malevolence skulking in the shadows, every instinct in her body was screaming at her to run in the opposite direction and keep going until she hit the horizon.
She decided that was a good thing and held on to that fear, clutching it close to her heart in welcome. The fear would keep her alert, and staying alert meant staying alive.
Twilight checked her knives compulsively, pulling at each one with a tweak of magic just for the reassurance that they were there. They hadn’t helped against the spiders, but she felt better knowing she had them. Likewise, she checked to make sure her saddlebags were firmly in place. She’d opted to leave many of the supplies back at camp, deciding that she’d be better off with a light kit that wouldn’t be too draining to carry. She’d only brought their canteens, a bit of their food, a few extra torches, and whatever medical supplies hadn’t ended up in her improvised explosive back on the Mistress.
Behind her, she could hear the clink of Cadance’s hoofsteps and the nearly silent thumps of Basenji’s padded paws as they followed behind her, side by side in a triangular formation with her at the point. Their torches – Cadance’s in her magic and Basenji’s held in one paw as he plodded along upright – crackled in concert with her own and the sound was as comforting as the chink of the knives bouncing against her chest.
Cadance had known a spell to keep them burning all day long. It was a derivation of something she’d developed to get extra life out of scented candles, she'd explained with a blush of embarrassment.
They’d passed the remnants of Dingo’s drum and the hastily scrawled warning several minutes ago. Basenji had insisted on stopping to exam the writing once more, and his companions had waited patiently as he stared at it with a frown on his muzzle as though he were trying to will a fourth line of text to appear.
Eventually they reached the doorway again, and they all paused to gaze up at the reliefs. The stone carvings had presumably remained untouched for decades prior to the entrance being unearthed, and the day or so since they’d last seen them hadn’t changed that fact.
“Still not getting anything from this, Basenji?” Twilight asked as she withdrew a knife from her baldric and ducked her head into the small entry way to make sure nothing was waiting to ambush them.
Basenji examined the murals intently, his torch held close to the stone as he searched for clues. “This imagery exists nowhere else in dog culture,” he explained. He wiped away some excess dirt from a portion of the door and tapped a claw gently at a carving of two dogs standing in profile, upright with something large wrapped tightly in a bundle and held aloft between them atop their shoulders. “This is interesting, however…”
“Why so interesting?” Cadance asked, approaching the doorway to inspect it herself.
“I believe this to depict funerary rites,” he replied. “Such a thing would not be carved into the entryway of a dog’s den.”
“So it’s not a common motif?” Twilight asked. “Are there any more like it?”
They all scanned the doorway, squinting in the flickering light for similar images.
“There,” Cadance said as she thrust a hoof upward. In the far right corner of the doorway, partially covered by rocks, was another carving of two diamond dogs. They were placing a similar bundle, roughly the same size as themselves, into a seated position on a throne.
“Stranger still,” Basenji muttered. “This is not the way in which we deal with our dead. Present practices are merely cremation and returning of the ash to the sacred earth.”
“It’s not uncommon for that sort of thing to change over time,” Cadance suggested.
“Very true…” Basenji conceded. “But… perhaps there is…”
Cadance and Twilight shared a look of concern as Basenji leaned back and began to hum in thought. Just as abruptly as his humming began, it stopped. His eyes went wide with some realization and he quickly darted around Twilight before either pony could react.
“Basenji, wait!” Twilight hissed as she and Cadance followed him through the entrance.
Basenji made no attempt to slow down, and bolted for the nearest of the houses – a short, square home with perfectly chiseled edges and corners. Like every other structure, the door and windows were all sealed tight with bricks.
“Basenji, what the heck is wrong with you?” Twilight asked in a harsh whisper once they caught up to him. “Are you trying to get killed? Don’t run off like that.”
“Apologies,” Basenji said dismissively. “I believe I know where we are, but I must confirm.”
Basenji ran his paw gently across the sealed doorway and leaned his forehead against the ancient bricks. He said something in his native tongue, which came out only as whines and whimpers to his two pony companions, but seemed to convey a sense of remorse.
Basenji stood back and curled his paw, digging his claws into the bricks and crushing them. The baked clay was no match to dog paws capable of digging through solid rock. Even with only one paw, his other still holding the torch, the doorway was cleared in a matter of seconds.
They stepped inside to find a fairly mundane living space. There were two beds in the corner, a table made of lacquered wood, and a few small trinkets sitting on shelves carved into the walls. The only out of place objects were two large bundles, sitting upright in high-backed chairs at the table and wrapped in brittle yellow cloth.
“Are those bodies?” Twilight asked.
Basenji approached the table with his head dipped low in deference to the occupants whose rest they had disturbed. “This cannot be,” he said in disbelief. “This place… even to drummers it was believed merely a story…”
Twilight and Cadance joined him, staying a respectful distance from the remains of the deceased. A symbol was carved into the table. It resembled a dog’s head, but angular and sharp, with tall, pointed ears that sat high on the head.
“This is the symbol of the First Dog,” Basenji whispered reverently, his paw hovering over the symbol that he dared not touch. “It signifies the protection of Great Anubis, the Jackal.”
“Anubis?” Twilight asked.
Basenji began to inspect everything in the room, his eyes twinkling with wonder at the discovery. “Great Anubis is Protector of the Land of the Dead – the place from which all souls come and to which all souls return. The Oldest of legends speak of his compassion for all his charges. But he could not protect souls which came to the World of the Living.
“This brought to Great Anubis much sadness, and so he created many children to watch over the souls of the living: the Old Dogs. Much time has past since then, and dogs of now do not remember this purpose. Those that do, think it only a story told to trick pups into being good.”
“What would the dead need protection from?” Twilight asked.
Basenji gingerly set down a small statuette he’d removed from a shelf and turned to give Twilight a gravely serious look. “There are many fates much worse than death, Twilight Sparkle, and no end of creatures beyond this world capable of dealing such.”
The subject of death wasn’t something ponies delved very deeply into. Even truly dedicated magical scholars shied away from poking their noses into matters involving that particular subject. As far as Twilight knew, not even her brother had opened that particular box. It seemed, however, that dogs had no such taboo among their scholars.
“You mentioned earlier something about a connection between death and sleep,” Cadance interjected. “Dingo and the other dogs were all brought here by dreams, right? Could it have been something… from the other side…?”
Basenji slumped against the wall, hugging himself with one arm as he contemplated the possibility. “Perhaps… Great Anubis protects this realm indirectly by preventing such trespasses, so the possibility – while magnificently unlikely – exists that such a being could have slipped by even the notice of Great Anubis.”
“Unlikely or not, it’s something that makes sense, so let’s move forward with that as our working theory,” Twilight proposed.
Basenji worked his paw up and down his arm nervously, but eventually accepted the unicorn’s logic with a solemn nod.
He turned back to the shelf to resume his lavish inspection of the artifacts of his ancestors as he continued the tale. “To speak more of this place, many are the songs that sing praise of the first city of dogs – the place from which all dogs came. Our kind lived here long, but as time went on it fell to dogs to at last fulfill their lot, and so we spread across the land in all directions to be sentries of the living.”
“I get it,” Cadance said. “You left the city behind and turned it into a huge mausoleum.”
“As you say.” His eyes drifted back to the two dogs propped up in their seats. “This makes clearer the reason for the name of this place in the old songs.”
“What name would that be?” Twilight asked.
Basenji frowned, his claws idly plucking at the strap of his drum as he considered his answer. “There is no truly accurate equivalent in your tongue to my knowledge. I believe there is a term in the old language of the minotaurs that applies. They would call this a Necropolis – a ‘City of the Dead’.”
“Does this information help us at all?” Cadance asked eagerly. “Does it give you any idea who or what might be trying to kill us?”
“For whom, I still cannot say,” Basenji answered with a sigh. “However, if this is indeed the Necropolis of legend, we must make for the center of the city.”
“What’s in the center of the city?”
“There lies a temple to Great Anubis. This will be sacred ground, protected from dark influence. If there are clues to our salvation, or others who have been spared the fate of friend Sky Chaser, they are to be found in that place.”
Twilight scratched at her chin in thought. “You said the Old Dogs were meant to be warriors, right? Think there might be something there we can use to protect ourselves?”
“There is a great possibility, yes.”
“Good, we’ve got a heading, then,” Twilight said with a smile as she turned to lead the way back into the street.
Her blood went cold as she saw something – nothing more substantial than a shifting shadow – dart past the doorway. As it flickered by she caught a glimpse of something glowing in the darkness. She’d seen the like of it before – a pair red eyes glowing like burning coals in the darkness. Whatever it was, it caused a ruckus as it disappeared down the street with the sound of something sharp scraping at stone.
All three friends stood stock-still, breathlessly waiting for the other hoof to drop, but nothing came. There was no attack. There was no screeching or clawing at the doorway, no long, spindly arachnid arms reaching for them through the walls.
There was only silence and the beating of their racing hearts as they cautiously stepped out of the tomb and back onto the dirt road leading further into the city.
* * *
Twilight had no idea how long they’d been walking. In the dank, stuffy darkness of the underground city there was no frame of reference for the passage of time.
One thing that they knew for certain, though – this place was massive.
The strange magical properties of the darkness surrounding them prevented them from knowing just how large the cavern was. However, considering the distance they’d walked, Twilight was beginning to suspect that this city might be even larger than all of Canterlot.
Luckily, they knew they were headed in the right direction thanks to the layout of the city, which was changing every few minutes. While the homes on the periphery of the city had been very tidy and well cared for, the homes as they neared the center of the city were more worn-down – more lived-in. In some places the neat blocks and narrow streets gave way to roughly-shaped row-houses and huts that looked like enormous house-sized clay ovens. Every home they passed had the windows and doors walled up, the same as the one they’d searched earlier.
Despite the fear she felt, Twilight couldn’t help but be in awe of her surroundings. Such a city, of such scale and density, presumably with at least one dog interred within every structure, was astonishing. That sort of population didn’t boom up over night. A city this size suggested tens of dozens, even hundreds of generations of occupancy.
How long ago had the diamond dogs settled this place? It was certainly long enough ago that Basenji’s kind had lost the majority of knowledge about the city of their origin.
Judging by the sheer number of dogs entombed in this once living city, the Necropolis probably pre-dated the pre-Unification Era of Equestria by far. It was a shame that such an incredible archaeological discovery had to be tainted by whatever malevolence was hiding in the shadows.
Her ear twitched as she picked up the sound of something thumping in the distance to her left. She motioned for the others to stop as she prepared a battery of spells for their defense.
The effort was wasted. The thing in the darkness ceased its thumping and went silent.
“They’re doing that a lot,” Cadance said worriedly. “Like, more often than before.”
Twilight nodded. Ever since that first contact back at the edge of the city, they’d caught little glimpses of things hiding in the gloom. The beasts reminded them of their presence with flashes of glowing red eyes, a black tendril drifting along the edge of their firelight, or the sound of claws or hooves or clattering teeth just outside their visible range. As they neared the center of the city the creatures were becoming braver, appearing more frequently and sometimes more than one at a time, but none had dared attack them directly… yet.
“They still haven’t made a move on us,” Twilight reassured her as she began walking again. “I think they’re scared of the fire.”
“The beasts did not seem to possess much by way of intelligence aboard the ship of Sky Chaser,” Basenji pointed out. “Though, I suppose all predatory beasts possess some measure of cunning.”
“I can’t wait to get my hooves on whatever set these things loose on us,” Twilight said between grinding teeth. “I’m going to put all of my knives into it.”
“The possibility exists that the wellspring of these beasts is something which is formless,” Basenji piped up nervously, still skittish of the thought that he might be marching to face the sort of horror that existed only in the oldest of his kind’s songs. “Your blades may not be effective.”
“I don’t care,” Twilight growled. “I’ll find a way to stab whatever is doing this. Nothing puts my princess in danger.”
Cadance bit her lip nervously as she felt her cheeks burn at the declaration from her guard. She stepped out of their formation, drawing a curious look from Basenji, and moved closer to Twilight.
“Twilight…” Cadance called softly as she sidled up to the shorter mare. She spared a glance back to where Basenji was scanning the darkness and pretending he couldn’t hear them.
“What is it?” Twilight asked quickly. “Did you see something?”
“No, I just want to know if you saw anywhere safe we could stop and take a breather. We could set up the extra torches to keep the things away.”
Twilight shook her head. “Negative. There’s no time. We have to keep moving forward. If we stop to rest we might not have enough in us to get going again.”
“Twilight, you’re dead on your hooves,” Cadance whispered sternly.
Twilight opened her mouth to deny the accusation, but her body betrayed her and let loose a deeply satisfying yawn. She closed her mouth with an angry click of her teeth and glared into the darkness without meeting Cadance’s eyes.
“I’m fine,” she stated brusquely. She levitated a canteen from her saddlebag and chugged down the last dregs of cold coffee.
Cadance sighed. “Please, Twilight, it’s not just about taking a break… There’s some stuff I want to talk to you about. Things I think I need to say just in case—“
“No,” Twilight said sharply. She turned her head to look Cadance in the eyes with a pleading look in her own. “If there’s something you need to say you can say it later.”
Cadance swallowed the lump in her throat. “We still don’t know what we’re headed for… There might not be a later…”
“I can protect you,” Twilight said half-desperately. “I can do it, but I need you to believe in me.”
“I do believe in you, Twilight, but, I just…” She surrendered and fell back into formation next to Basenji, who reached out and pat her back reassuringly.
Twilight returned to her vigil as the pointmare, trying not to think about the needles digging into her chest over the look of defeat in Cadance’s eyes. Twice her princess had tried to comfort her, and twice she’d shoved that concern back in her face.
She didn’t deserve to be the personal guard of the Princess of Love.
It was all the more reason to get out of this. Once they were back home – and whatever fresh hell was awaiting them there was dealt with – she’d do whatever it took to make it up to Cadance.
Tired little fantasies played out in her head. She imagined herself blowing an entire month’s worth of pay on bouquets of flowers and boxes of chocolate. The idea to get her mom or Spike to teach her to play the piano so she could write a song – An Ode to Apology – crossed her mind. Or maybe she could take Cadance on a candlelit dinner. Her mom was good friends with the food critic at the paper she worked for, and she could probably use that connection to get them reservations somewhere nice.
Twilight bit the inside of her cheek painfully, hard enough to fill her mouth with a faint coppery taste. She was trying to shake this attraction, not nurture it with fantasies – worse yet, fantasies on the battlefield.
She put it off as the symptoms of her tired mind and wished she’d had more canteens so they could’ve brought more coffee. There were more pouches of the stuff in the MRE’s, but she didn’t want to use the last of the clean drinking water just to make more. She brought the canteen out again and shook the last of the undissolved coffee grounds free, pouring them onto her outstretched tongue. It tasted terrible, but there was just enough caffeine left to give her a start.
It was another half hour or so – or it could’ve been a full hour for all Twilight could tell – when they finally came across something other than row after row of houses. They stepped past a pair of squat, limestone houses and found the unpaved roadway gave way to an expanse of flagstones that stretched on into the darkness.
“Can you see anything, Basenji?” Twilight asked.
“Apologies,” Basenji replied as he squinted into the distance. “Dog sight is greatly suited to darkness, but this deep into the city even it cannot pierce this veil beyond the reach of our torches.”
“Let’s just take this as a sign that we’re close, then,” she sighed as she stepped forward.
Twilight proceeded swiftly but carefully, mindful of the fact that they were now very much exposed. If the nightmares could see through the preternatural gloom, as she suspected they could, then the entire group was now out in the open and away from any sort of cover.
She nearly gasped as she caught the first glimpse of what could only be the center of the city. Enormous columns of marble, sculpted with artfully swirling patterns, rose higher than their field of vision allowed them to see. She led them between two pillars and the flagstones gave way to tiles of the same marble. She nearly tripped when her hoof touched the strangely ice-cold tile, her reflexes pulling her leg back like she’d dipped it into a freezing lake. It was cold this deep underground, but the tile shouldn’t have been this cold.
“Looks like we’re somewhere,” Twilight said to her companions.
She slowed down a bit, alarms going off in her head and telling her that something was off. Was it something she’d heard, or seen? No, it was a smell, she decided.
Something smelled like blood.
Twilight looked to Basenji, who clearly had picked up the scent much faster than she had. He was right on her heels, but he had an unmistakable look of dread on his face.
A sudden squeal of surprise from Cadance snapped Twilight’s eyes forward again. She’d almost run straight into a dark smear of blood on the marble tiles in front of them.
Twilight skidded to a halt and swallowed her heart back into her chest. She nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt Cadance trot up to her side without a word.
“Hold your torch up, princess,” Twilight asked.
Cadance tore her eyes away from the grisly sight long enough to cock her head curiously to the side, but did as she was asked and levitated the torch a bit higher above them. Twilight huddled closer, sharing the protection of her torchlight so she could sweep the area with her own torch.
There was blood and tattered shreds of cloth everywhere. The cloth especially caught her eye. Stained with gore though they were, the scraps were clearly pieces of a travelling cloak like the one Basenji had left been wearing when she’d found him. The article of clothing had been lost in the explosion that destroyed the ship, as he’d left it in the cargo hold as a part of the bed of blankets he’d made for himself.
Strangely, there was only blood and cloth left behind. No meat, no bones or hair, nothing of the dogs themselves but their precious lifeblood. Twilight went green as the idea struck her that the things may have eaten the remains, bones and all.
“I think we found the rest of the dogs…” Twilight declared somberly as she levitated her torch back to her side.
“This much blood had to have come from at least a dozen dogs,” Cadance deduced. The sight of all that death made her feel sick, and the mostly-digested ravioli in her stomach was threatening to make a reappearance. “Do you think this is where they made their last stand?”
Basenji stepped forward, tears falling silently from his eyes at the scene. “No,” he croaked. He raised his free paw and pointed to the scraps of cloth. “These dogs willingly laid in this place, atop their cloaks, and surrendered to their fate knowing that the darkness was contained by Dingo’s Ways…”
“How can you be sure of that?” Twilight asked curiously.
Basenji was silently, he merely strode forward, his body tensing at the sensation of dried blood beneath his paws, and waved an arm over the carnage around him.
“I have certainty in this, for it is as I would have done in their place…” he whispered sadly.
“Don’t say that, Basenji,” Cadance begged. “We’re going to be okay. You, me, and Twilight, we’re going to figure this out.”
“There is nothing to ‘figure out’!” Basenji barked angrily. “Do you not see? Have you not understood yet? Do you not remember the cloud of darkness rising into the sky from this place!? This is as Dingo warned!”
“Stop… yelling…” Twilight said in a calm, commanding voice. “Stop yelling and tell us what you mean.”
Basenji clenched his jaw, his sharp teeth bared in frustration as the tears continued to fall. He was staring at something on the ground and trembling so badly that the torch he held flickered with the movement.
Twilight followed his gaze and her eyes went wide as she realized what his keen eyesight had seen as her torch had swept the area. Next to one of the piles of stained cloak tatters, something was carved into the marble tile by a dog’s claw. It was rough, just as the message left in the tunnel had been, but it was clearly a simple drawing: a dog’s head made of sharp, angular lines, with tall, pointed ears sitting high atop the head.
“The final part of Dingo’s warning,” Basenji growled as he pointed to the carving. “‘Dream no more, you who broke my seal, father’s teeth are upon you’. The word he used referred to our father, and I attempted to write it off as a symptom of his ill-mind... And even once I learned the nature of this place I did not wish to believe that which was most likely, but I now know… I know he meant he who is Father of all dogs, Great Anubis!”
He rounded on them and glared, his eyes ablaze with anger. “Great Anubis has done this to us! He has turned his back upon the living for forgetting our purpose! Dingo sealed Great Anubis’ curse within this place, and it should have held for all time!”
He raised his paw and thrust a claw at them in accusation. “But no! Pony brought Basenji here! Ponies saved Basenji’s life, and Basenji broke seal of Dingo! This is pony’s fault! Basenji should have died! Now all will die! Great Anubis’ curse shall spread across sands like plague and wash away all dogs – all that lives!”
In his fevered rant, Basenji’s Equish had slipped into an even cruder form, but he didn’t care. He was angry beyond rational thought, and with a final cry of, “Pony should have left Basenji to die!” he threw his torch – the only thing he was holding – forcefully to the ground.
Twilight watched in horror as the torch struck the marble hard enough to put out the flames. Cadance gasped beside her, and they saw the look on Basenji’s face as the final, dim embers of the torch-materials scattered in all directions. His eyes were wide with fear as he realized what he’d done in the heat of his anger. Just as the last flicker of light died, something pulled Basenji’s legs from under him and dragged him into the shadows with a high-pitched yelp of pain.
“Basenji!” Cadance screamed.
Time slowed for Twilight, and the moment she saw him hit the ground she flung her torch as hard as she could in the direction he’d been being dragged in. It struck something in the darkness, which screeched with unearthly fury before darting away from its prey. The torch blew out from the impact, just as Basenji’s had done, but as it died Twilight saw Basenji’s arm in the darkness and grabbed onto it with her magic. She pulled him across the filthy tile and into the protection of Cadance’s torchlight.
His leg was bleeding. Whatever had grabbed him had pierced clean through his thigh. He was pale and whimpering from the pain. Even as she heard the clatter and the growling and shrieks of the things in the darkness all around them, she knelt down and inspected the wound.
“Bone isn’t broken, bleeding is minimal suggesting the artery was missed,” she said clinically. Her horn lit and began withdrawing supplies, dumping a whole jar of some poultice that sizzled as it touched the wound before wrapping it tightly with bandages. There was no time to be gentle, not with the nightmares all around them whipped into a frenzy by the scent of fresh blood and wounded prey.
“Forgiveness,” Basenji whimpered softly. “Forgiveness, please, but you must go without Basenji. By my own idiocy I am wounded. Save yourselves.”
“Shut up,” Twilight commanded. “Stop talking like that.”
Twilight removed her saddlebags and the flap of one bag opened, allowing her to withdraw five unlit torches.
“I am so damned sick and tired of seeing my friends get hurt,” she proclaimed as she lit the torches one by one with the flames from Cadance’s. “I’ve had enough of this, and I am not watching another friend die.”
One of the torches settled gently to the ground beside Basenji, and he held it high from his seated position.
“Princess, can you make a simple bubble shield?” Twilight asked. She received a nod. “Then put one around yourself and Basenji.”
“I want to help,” Cadance declared.
Twilight smiled. “Just make a shield, that's all the help I need.”
Twilight stepped away from Cadance and Basenji, the four remaining torches slowly circling her in her magical aura. She withdrew the four knives from her baldric and they joined the torches in an impressive display of telekinesis. Levitation was a simple spell that any unicorn could do, but it still required concentration and skill to move multiple objects – and Twilight had concentration and skill in spades.
She checked over her shoulder and saw that her friends were wrapped in a shimmering shield of light-blue magic. She gave the shield a once-over and nodded. The casting was a little sloppy, but it was strong with alicorn magic, and it would hold back anything.
“I don’t care what you are or who sent you or any of that!” Twilight shouted into the darkness once she was certain her charges were safe. “You want to eat me? Come and try it!”
Something rushed at her from the shadows, a huge, hulking thing with shaggy onyx hair that ran at her on two legs. Two of her knives darted forward, stabbing it in those horrible red eyes that they all seemed to share.
Blinded, it never saw the torch flying into its face. Twilight poured her magic into the flames of the torch, willing the fire to burn hotter, and the monstrosity dropped to the ground, howling as the flames ate away at its face.
Twilight watched curiously, the back of her mind noting that the fire had caused a magical disentanglement effect, reverting the condensed shadow magic that made its form back into unclaimed aetheric charge which was absorbed into the field of darkness around them.
At the fore of her mind, she noted that the fire made it die, so she bashed the torch against it again. Her knives flashed, dancing across its form and stabbing it repeatedly as it writhed in agony and dissolved back into tendrils of blackened smoke and falling ash.
The stabbing didn’t appear to be completely necessary, but it caused pain enough to distract it while she set the thing ablaze. Plus, it was very satisfying to her.
She felt something approaching – as vague certainty that she was about to be attacked – and she sent one of her blades screaming into the darkness to her right. She was rewarded with a shriek, and she turned to focus her attack on whatever she’d struck.
Another hunch had her sending a torch flying into the air, where it collided with something winged circling overhead. It fell to the ground as the fire struck, smoke and ash trailing behind it.
The creatures were in a frenzy now, attacking her heedless of the danger of her flames.
“That’s right,” she muttered darkly. “Keep coming at me… Don’t pay any attention to the pretty girl or the nice doggy behind me…”
* * *
Cadance and Basenji watched in wonder as Twilight did battle with the beasts. She was a whirl of blades and magic and fire, shooting off blasts of condensed magic strong enough to blow through steel.
Cadance pulled the torch from Basenji’s paw and levitated both torches through her shield to slowly circle around them the way Twilight had done with hers. She huddled low, draping herself protectively over her wounded friend.
“We’re going to be okay, Basenji,” Cadance said to him reassuringly. “Twilight’s going to get us out of here.”
“She is fierce,” Basenji said in awe, “but how long can she last at this pace? She is already weary, and we have no idea the number of creatures birthed by the fears of my brethren – one per dog? Three? Ten?”
“What are you saying?”
“You must convince her to run, friend Cadance, please,” Basenji begged. “If any can end this curse, it is one with such fire within her belly as she. I see that now.”
Cadance shook her head. “Twilight’s not leaving you. I haven’t known her long, but I know that that’s not her style.”
He averted his gaze in shame. “You have much faith in her…”
“I do,” Cadance said with a smile.
Even as Cadance proclaimed her faith in Twilight, her heart felt heavy with worry. Basenji was right. Twilight was strong, way stronger than she’d realized, but it had been days since she’d last slept, and they hadn’t been easy days. Twilight had been on her hooves the whole time, marching from place to place, doing her best to protect their group, and doing battle with literal nightmare-beasts.
Twilight wasn’t just fighting monsters, she was fighting her own body. Cadance watched with worry as the small mare struggled, panting and wheezing from the effort of the battle as much as the effort to stay on her hooves.
There was a massive thump as something heavy stomped around in the far away darkness. Judging from the tremors it caused with every thud, whatever it was, it was enormous.
The sound of shattering stone filled the air, and Cadance watched in horror as a section of the gargantuan marble pillars, thick around as a thousand year old oak tree, soared through the air towards Twilight.
* * *
Twilight's head snapped around as she heard the sound of falling stones. She’d barely registered the shaking of the ground moments before, her attention being too focused on nearer opponents.
Her eyes went wide as the light from one of her torches pushed away enough darkness to reveal a huge section of one of the marble columns flying directly for her. It was roughly the size of one of the smaller huts they’d passed in the city, and being solid marble, the weight was definitely measured in tons.
Twilight tried to run, but one of her knees quivered weakly and gave out beneath her. She fell to the ground with a pained grunt. Unable to evade, magic was her only choice. She focused her power, trying to conjure a shield to protect herself, but she knew it was a hopeless effort. She’d never be able to get a shield strong enough to withstand an impact like that, but she had to try.
Her horn burned as she tried to focus enough energy to summon a shield, but with her magic already holding aloft her torches and knives, her already low reserves were spread thin. Even if she could project the shield, it was too late. There would be no time to properly configure the spell to redirect the kinetic load of an impact that huge. Without proper dispersal, the sensory feedback and magical draw of a direct hit would be immense, and immensely painful – painful enough to put her out of the fight long enough for her foes to close in on her.
A thin shield materialized around her, and the focus it took to put it up caused her to lose control of her levitation spells, dropping her blades and torches to the ground with a noisy clatter. In the few precious seconds she had before impact, she realized it wasn’t enough.
It was going to crush her, and she didn’t have the time or the energy to do anything about it beyond her third-rate shielding. She was tired, and hurt, and so weak. Her muscles screamed and throbbed. Her joints popped with every movement. Her heart was still in the fight, but her body had already surrendered under the punishment she’d subjected it to and the strain of channeling so much magic without rest.
A sense of failure unlike anything she’d ever felt came over her, but she forced herself to push it out of her mind. Instead she chose to close her eyes and thought fondly of home and of her silly crush on the pretty pink alicorn princess.
A spike of pain drove into her mind as she felt the hit through her horn. The air crackled, like the sound of arcing electricity, followed by something between a pop and breaking glass. Twilight opened her eyes as the last remnants of the two shields surrounding her – one a pale-pink and the other a gorgeous blue – fell to the ground in a shower of intermingling sparks. The projectile hit the ground behind her with an earthshaking thud and rolled away into the darkness.
Cadance had saved her. She’d wrapped a second shield around Twilight’s, strengthening the defense and absorbing the lion’s share of the impact. As Twilight turned to shout her thanks and praise, she realized that Cadance’s spellwork hadn’t been so neat.
Cadance was lying atop Basenji protectively. The two torches she’d been holding aloft had fallen to the ground but luckily remained lit, keeping them relatively safe.
Twilight rose to her hooves and took a step towards them.
“Cadance?” she called, her voice trembling and weak.
Basenji was shaking the girl desperately, panic clear on his face. He looked up and Twilight could tell from his eyes: Cadance was out cold.
She’d passed out and he wasn’t able to wake her.
It was only a matter of time until she fell under the influence of their curse and she began to dream.
And then she’d die.
Twilight gnashed her teeth, real tears welling in her eyes for the first time since this whole thing had began. She’d failed. Sky Chaser was dead, Cadance would be joining him soon, and she and Basenji wouldn’t be far behind.
Anger welled up inside of Twilight. She felt hot. Her head was pounding and she could hear the rush of her own blood pumping through her veins like the roar of the ocean.
Thoughts of weariness, surrender, or rest fled from her mind. Her heart was breaking, but she’d never felt more alive.
Something rushed her from behind, and Twilight turned to meet it. Her eyes were aglow with surging power, flickering in the darkness like the flames of Tartarus. She lowered her head and pointed her horn in the direction of her attacker.
She didn’t see what it was, but it didn’t matter. It blew away in a gout of flame that burst from her horn, as hot and deadly as any flame her brother – her dragon brother – could produce.
A new shield sprang up around Cadance and Basenji, glowing brilliantly pink and obscuring the two occupants.
Her friends safely within her bubble, Twilight gave in to the surge of magic within herself. She stepped forth into the darkness, her hooves leaving scorch marks in the tile.
Twilight held her head high and called for an inferno to wash away the darkness. Pillars of flame erupted from her horn, filling the cavern and writhing like serpents, licking at the walls and columns, burning everything in their path.
Her flames revealed more of the city than ever before. It was every bit as beautiful and massive as she’d imagined. The marble square they were standing on turned out to be courtyard of a gleaming white palace. It was no doubt the temple that Basenji had indicated. It was almost funny how close they’d gotten to their goal before it all fell apart.
She ignored the buildings and focused on the task at hoof. Basenji had been right, the things did have some measure of predatory cunning. The creatures had all gathered at the center of town, having sensed blood in the water like sharks. But now that they were faced with a creature bursting with living flames, they all turned to flee.
They didn’t get far.
In the distance she could see the hulking form of an enormous diamond dog, easily the size of a three story house, standing next to a broken marble pillar. It was almost a hundred yards away, and probably thought it was safe. Twilight proved it wrong.
Her flames reached out for the thing even from that distance, slithering along the ground and wrapping tightly around its body. It howled as the flames constricted, and quickly consumed the monster.
Soon all that was left was ash and smoke.
Just as quickly as the surge came, it ended. Twilight teetered dangerously on her hooves. She’d never been so drained in all her life. Only one other time had she’d ever experienced a magical surge, and it hadn’t been anything like that.
She’d lost her torches, but the burning embers of her massive firestorm still smoldered in some places, providing adequate light. She stumbled towards where Cadance and Basenji lay, her shield having fallen once her surge had passed.
“Cadance…” she called weakly. She finally made it to her princess’ side and sat heavily on the ground. She pulled the other girl off of Basenji and held her tightly to her chest as she rocked back and forth. “Cadance… I beat them all, Cadance. Aren’t I a good guard? I got them all…”
She barely registered the sound of Basenji stabbing his claw into the ground and using the hole to hold one of the still-lit torches upright. He sat up as best he could with a wounded leg, and began to play his drum.
“What are you doing?” Twilight asked.
“I will not surrender so easily,” Basenji declared as he furiously tapped at his drum. “Never again. I have no Ways which can control dreams, but mayhaps it is not beyond me to prevent dreaming for a short time.”
Twilight blinked her dry eyes painfully. “What? I don’t… you can save her?”
“Should this work at all, it shall only withhold the inevitable,” Basenji corrected. “You must continue onward. If there is salvation for your princess, it will be within the temple of Great Anubis.”
Twilight didn’t want to get up, she didn’t want to continue. She was so tired. She just wanted to lie down next to Cadance and rest, but Basenji’s words filled her with hope, and hope wrung the last bit of strength from her weary, broken body.
Twilight tugged the saddlebags closer with her magic, grunting with the effort to will them to flip them over and dump the contents. She carefully folded the material and laid Cadance’s head down atop the improvised pillow.
“I’ll be back,” she said confidently.
“Of that I have no doubt.”
Twilight levitated the second torch and held it aloft. It felt like it weighed a thousand tons, but she grit her teeth and broke into a run. She passed one of her knives that had somehow survived the inferno, and stopped to stoop down and pick it up with her teeth. She didn’t have it in her to levitate two objects at once, so she tucked the blade back into her baldric the best she could.
She half-galloped in the direction of the temple, limping the whole way. The knee of her right hind leg had buckled when she’d attempted to dodge the projectile the giant beast had hurled at her, and it still refused to hold very much of her weight.
The stairs at the entrance of the temple were a living hell as she struggled to make the short ascent on only three legs. She quickly hobbled into the main lobby, squinting in the firelight for something, anything, that could help Cadance. At the far end of the room she could see a shaft of light pouring in through a partially opened door leading to another chamber.
She moved between statues and pillars, kicking aside the rotting remnants of old tapestries and rugs as she made her way towards the light. The doors appeared to be made of solid gold and matched those at the entrance of the city in size and craftsmanship, but unlike the stone doors back in the tunnel, the dogs had chosen to pull them open rather than dig their way through.
Twilight ducked inside and knew that she’d found what she was looking for.
Scattered around the room were braziers containing warm, flickering fires. Golden and bejeweled treasures had been shoved against the walls in huge piles. Everywhere she looked, there were magnificent statues and time-worn murals to Anubis.
At the rear of the chamber, upon a dais, was a golden throne that reminded Twilight distantly of the one back in Canterlot. It had only been a few days since she’d been standing in that throne room, standing before the Princess she’d sworn her sword to, but it felt like a lifetime ago. Though this place was older by far, it felt like a pale imitation of Canterlot’s throne room.
A tawny-coated diamond dog sat atop the throne. He was deathly thin for a member of his species, and wore nothing except a large pendant with an enormous ruby set in the center. But more than anything, what stood out about him were his eyes: they were terrifying. They were golden, and glowing with an unworldly light as he stared through her with an intensely indifferent gaze, like he was looking at an insect.
It was Dingo. She wasn’t sure how she knew, but her gut told her that this was the dog that had started everything. She shook her head sadly as she corrected herself. No, this wasn’t Dingo. It was something riding inside him, wearing him like a suit.
The dog’s eyes literally brightened in recognition, as though he’d only just noticed her, even though he’d been staring at her since she’d walked in.
“Ah, a pilgrim,” the thing inside Dingo’s body spoke. Its voice was smooth, almost liquid, and caused Twilight to grimace as the words dripped wetly into her ears. “You’ve come to worship at the paws of Anubis?”
“You’re Anubis?” she asked, her capacity to be surprised dulled by exhaustion.
“Yes, and I see you are in pain, little child,” Anubis said. He leaned to the side, propping himself against one armrest as he dangled one of his legs over the other. In his paws he held some sort of discus – a flattened ring of metal around the size of a dinner plate – which he tapped against his golden throne lazily.
“Lift your curse,” Twilight demanded. She released the spell holding the torch and pulled out the knife. She pointed it at him threateningly, and it took all her willpower to keep the blade steady. “Or else.”
Anubis chuckled. The sound of his laughter crawled over her body like the legs of a thousand insects, making her shiver.
“Curse? I’ve given no curse. I bring to you the gift of death. I shall return you to your natural state, and liberate you from pain.”
“Death is no gift,” Twilight replied. “Life is a gift.”
“Death is mercy to the sick and injured,” Anubis replied coldly. He sat up and held his arms apart wide, his cracked lips parting into a smile. “You are afraid, little child, and fear is the pain of the living. Let me give you release. Return to my embrace.”
Twilight gathered what willpower she had left and flung her knife with a battle cry.
Anubis merely cocked his head to the side and held up a paw, halting the projectile mid-flight. He tilted his head the other way and held up one claw, spinning the ring he’d been holding like a foal’s loopty-hoop.
Twilight’s eyes went wide as she realized what was coming. She tried to run, but her right leg betrayed her again. She pushed into the fall, hoping to at least roll away. The disc whizzed by her with a shrill zip, and she felt a fresh burst of pain along her left flank as the projectile grazed her.
Twilight tried to stand, but all at once a fog came over her. Her vision blurred, and everything in the room doubled, then tripled, and the whole world was spinning.
Anubis was smiling down on her from atop his throne, his eyes shimmering with golden radiance as he worked his power upon her.
“Sleep, little child,” Anubis commanded. “You are so very tired. Once you realize the pain of living is too great, my gift shall find you. Sleep…”
Twilight’s vision swam, her eyelids grew heavy, and she drifted off to sleep.
* * *