//------------------------------// // Chapter Three // Story: Cape and Cowl II: Puppetmaster // by Artimae //------------------------------// 1 January 7th, 1008, 11:00 P.M. I’ve had a couple of days to stew on everything. I don’t know what to believe, what to think, anymore. Up is down, left is right, and my entire view of the world has been shaken. How could she? How could the one pony I thought I could trust above all others throw me under the carriage so casually? And for the sake of Bolt Buck, no less! I want to hate him. I was hoping that it was all his fault, that he somehow forced Primrose into telling them who I am just to save his own skin, so I could blame him completely. But I can’t. He knew what he was a part of so long ago was a horrific mistake, and he has worked hard to amend it. I have to give him credit for that, he’s done a lot for me, never hesitating for a second to consider the risks. And to learn that even he was angry with Primrose when she turned me over ‘for his sake’. The sad truth is, I believe him. He was genuinely upset, and has once again offered to help me. And to top it all off, I actually meet a nice Rind. Has the whole world gone mad? I don’t understand. The killer of my brother has become my unwaveringly loyal ally, the mare I knew as a filly turns out to be a turncoat, and our family rival actually cares about this situation? Is this some sort of nightmare? Please, Luna, make it stop. If this is some fever-induced dream, just let it end so I can have my parents back. Let the whole thing end - maybe I’ll even have Frosty back. Is that too much to ask? Why do I have to suffer so much? Is it some sort of cosmic test of character? Or is that yet to come, when Abacus will ask me to do… whatever it is she’ll want me to do. I don’t want to imagine what it may be. If she makes me cross a line I don’t want to cross, just to save mom and dad… could they even look at me? Could I look at them? I don’t think I want to know the answer to that question - my stomach is churning just thinking about it. I’m scared of this mare. She wasn’t a stupid brute like Bloodshot; she’ll have thought two steps ahead of me. If I see an opening in her guard, I’ll have to take it. But I doubt she’d allow me such an opening. Or, if she does, it may be a trap in itself. I can’t just outsmart her… If I try to outmuscle her, she’ll just hurt mom and dad. So I’ll have to go with the last thing I’ve got left. My gut. The meet is still an hour away. I think I need some cold, crisp fresh air. -Snow Storm 2 Snow Storm spat out the pencil and simply stared down at the open journal for a moment. Her mind raced with all of the upcoming potential scenarios involving that coldhearted pegasus, each one worse than the last. She heaved herself away from the old desk, rather forcibly, nearly tipping herself and her chair over. She caught the edge of the desk before the chair could teeter too far back, righted herself, and scowled as she stood up. She replaced her journal into its hidden drawer and swiped a hoof over the ever-melting candle, whisking away the dancing flame. The room filled with silvery moonlight reflected off of a fresh layer of snow. Snow Storm walked lethargically to the door which opened out onto the wrap-around balcony and opened it. A blast of cold air immediately stung her swollen face, waking her from the stupor she’d been in the past few days. She stepped outside, grimacing against the chilly air, and leaned against the railing which faced out into the vast grove of trees below. The day seemed so far away now, turning into one quick glob of back-to-back memories. There had been a purse snatcher, she had almost decided not to bother, she met a new Guard, she helped with the street wreck, she tussled with the Rinds, she met their patriarch, she came home and slept until moments ago. All of these events ran rapidly together in her mind, like a slideshow. She had woken up long after the sun had gone, which only served to disorient her more. She wondered if the day had only been a dream, but her throbbing face proved it had been all too real. She gingerly pressed a hoof up against her cheek, hissing and flinching at the tender flesh. She didn’t have to bother checking the knot in her shoulder - it still felt as though there were a hot pin underneath her skin there. To top it all off, a headache began to form itself, thumping against her skull. I must look real pretty right now... Though it was night, the snow on the ground made it bright enough for her to spot a group of Fulake off in a section of land reserved for their special night-fruits. She watched absentmindedly as they picked and crated their extra-sweet harvest, setting aside one rather large container that was undoubtedly meant for the Night-guard barracks. It was something Mr. Orange had arranged, as a gesture of goodwill. The Guard, of course, happily accepted it. Wish I could be delivering that… she thought, sighing internally and resting her head against her forelegs. She closed her eyes, shivering against the cold breeze blowing in the night. I’d give just about anything to have a boring life. You started this, now buck up and finish it! “Ma’am?” Snow Storm jumped, dropping back to all four legs and putting herself in a defensive posture before she registered who the voice belonged to. “Oh. Good evening, Deorsa.” She gave the Fulake a half-hearted smile and nod. “And to you.” He tilted his head, folding his fluffy ears slightly and patting her on the shoulder, offering her a sympathetic look. “I apologize for startling you. I saw you step outside and thought you could use some company.” Snow smiled, turning back to the grove. Deorsa was essentially the night-shift foreman; a very stoic and matter-of-fact Fulake, and she liked him for that. “It’d be nice.” “...I’m sorry about the Oranges,” he said as they watched the groves, “we did our best to stop them, but in the end there were too many. It’s a miracle nopony was killed… They took great pains not to harm your family.” Snow looked sideways at the Fulake, raising an eyebrow. “You tried to stop them?” “Oh, yes. I was going into the nearby shed when I saw commotion up here at the manor. Naturally, I blew my horn and rallied the others, but it was futile.” “Huh, I’ve always wondered why you wear these things.” She brushed the horn around his neck, sending it swinging in a slow arc like a pendulum. He offered up a small smile. “You could just ask. It’s for emergencies - fire, mostly.” “That explains why I’ve never heard one. I don’t ever remember a fire in the grove before.” “That’s because the last one was twenty-three years ago. It involved a drunken pegasus and a stormcloud.” Snow snorted. “You sound like you were there. You can’t possibly be much older than I am!” Deorsa’s grin became wider. As was usual with Fulake, the grin was a bit impish. “Maybe I was, and maybe I am.” They watched the workers together in silence. Snow was just about to break it when Deorsa turned to her, his mouth set in a hard frown. “Listen, if there’s anything we can do, just ask. We’re not leaving the groves, not unless you want us to. A lot of us grew up working for your parents, and we owe them much.” “Well…” Snow Storm clucked her tongue thoughtfully. “There is something I need, if you don’t mind.” “Anything, just say the word,” She swept a hoof over the railing. “I need somepony to oversee the grove until mom and dad get back. I’m going to be… busy.” “Of course,” he said, nodding immediately. “But, er…” He leaned over and whispered into her ear, “You may wish to be careful with that whole ‘night thing’ you have going on. I can’t promise you aren’t being watched, and that ‘friend’ of yours isn’t exactly helping matters… what happened to her, anyway?” Snow Storm shot Deorsa an ugly look. “Does everybody know who I am?” “Not everybody. I happened to stay out late picking fruit, and spotted you coming and going from the house. After the first few times, it became fairly obvious what was going on… I asked Mrs.Orange, and she made me swear not to tell a soul. Nobody else on the grove knows, to my knowledge.” “Keeping a secret identity is harder than I thought,” she grumbled, turning from the grove and facing the house. “It’s time I get going. I’ll be back… hopefully before sunrise.” “Of course,” he said. Out of nowhere, he threw his forelegs around her in a comforting hug. “You take care out there, ma’am. You’re the last of the Oranges… until we get them back, at least.” The last of the Oranges… she thought to herself. There was something so sad about that. Probably because you’re not one at all, the voice of guilt retorted coldly. 3 Flyntt sighed, a leaden feeling in his stomach as he moved to knock on the door to Amber’s apartment. If he was just there to talk to her, it would have been a simple and quick visit, but as he raised his hoof to the door for the seventh time in the last half hour, a number of conflicting feelings welled up in him; disappointment, anger, betrayal, and bizarrely, a tiny amount of twisted pride lingered in the back of his mind for telling the Captain what Flyntt himself had secretly urged to say at that moment. “Pelleas, open up,” he said in a voice far from the brotherly tone he had used with his cadet just months ago. There was a click of locks coming undone, and the door creaked open enough for Amber Shield to poke her half-asleep head out. “Do you have any idea what time it is?” she mumbled in a tired stupor, scowling. “It’s time your depressed oaf of a boyfriend got his act together, that’s what,” Flyntt replied curtly, “I’m his ex-partner in the Night Guard, and I’m here to get him off his ass.” Amber blinked a couple of times, and then her brain clicked. “Oh! Lieutenant Flyntt. Come on in.” She opened the door and stepped aside, sweeping her foreleg in a gesture of invitation. “Thanks… and we’re not at work, Amber. ‘Flyntt’ will do fine,” he corrected her, sitting down at the kitchen table and looking around. “You have a nice place here,” he mentioned casually, before staring right at her, cutting to the chase. “So how’s he been?” “No clue,” Amber replied, trotting to the stove to fire up a pot of coffee. “I kicked him out last night.” “You did?” Flyntt grinned wryly, helping himself to a slice of grapefruit from a bowl, “What was the final straw?” “It was more like a whole bunch of pent up things coming out at once. It’s an honor to be in this city’s Guard, and he threw it away for some mare that he wouldn’t shut up about.” “Eh, personally I’d say it’s more a source of income than an honor, but hey, I’m an old cynic,” he grinned, “but you’re right about him throwing it away. Kid never did know how to think ahead… any idea of where he went?” he asked casually, taking the last bite out of his grapefruit. “Frankly, sir, I don’t care,” Amber said with a vicious scowl. “There are bigger things to worry about, like the missing Oranges.” “What do you want me to say?” he said, returning the scowl and doubling it, “You think the higher-ups are holding out on you, that we got some crucial sensitive info that could change everything that we just can’t say yet? Sorry kid, that ain’t how it works. I can tell you why they were kidnapped, but frankly I don’t trust you enough yet. You’re too close to Murdoc, and I don’t think it’s something he should know.” “I’ve heard you two have a history,” she commented as she levitated the boiling coffee pot, pouring a cup for herself and her guest. “A history?” Flyntt scoffed, “Sure, you might say that. You might also say that he’s a bigot, that thinks most of my kind are lazy, shifty and listless bums. He’s had it in for me since the day we joined the force together, and he’ll have it in for me when he’s Captain and I’m stuck working desk duty because my worthless, whiny little brat of an ex-partner thought he was better than the system.” “Well maybe if you got to know the Lieutenant a bit, you’d think differently,” she shot, setting the coffee down near Flyntt. At this, Flyntt shot her a look so stern she almost flinched, “Oh, I know him. I know more about him than you’ll ever dream of. We go way, way back, and frankly I think you don’t have any idea of his darker side. He’s all honor and loyalty at work, sure, but underneath it all is a very cold, very distant stallion. Sure, he’s nice around his kids, but he hates batponies. And frankly, I don’t see why I shouldn’t return the favor.” Amber cocked her eyebrow and leveled her ears at Flyntt. “If he hates your kind so much, why does he use a name like yours instead of his real one?” “Quick piece of advice, kid,” Flyntt said, scratching his ear lazily as he spoke, “If you ever bring that up with him, or anything regarding his father? You can kiss goodbye to that cushy position of yours, Shield or not. He hates talking about that stuff a thousand times more than he does my kind.” “Or maybe you just don’t know him like you think you do,” Amber said icily. She wondered if this little incident was going to go on record, but she hardly cared. “But he’s not why you’re here. You’re here for that bum, and I booted him out. He’s entirely obsessed with the Mare do Well, so find her and you can find him somewhere close by. So I’m kindly asking you to leave, sir.” She pointed harshly to the door. “...You’re just like Pelleas, no wonder you fell for him,” Flyntt spat as he walked to the door, “An insufferable little upstart that thinks she knows better. But I guess it’s fine for you, since you’re not a Fulake anyway.” Flyntt stormed out, slamming the door shut and heading in the direction of the one pony that might actually have some answers. “Or maybe you’re all just arrogant jackasses!” she yelled after him, finishing her cup and shuffling off back to bed. 4 The fountain Snow Storm had been told to wait by was an impressive stone monument of Princess Luna. She stood proudly, holding her head high with her large wings spread to their fullest. Flanking her were a pair of Fulake in ornate, Royal Night Guard armor. The fountain had been chiseled in such exquisite detail that, in the daytime, one could even see the royal crest of Luna upon her guards’ armor. It was erected a couple of years after the Princess’s triumphant return to Equestria, as a testament to her reformation. Snow Storm shivered against the cold night, despite the few layers of clothes and fluffy winter coat she was wearing. Wish Abacus would hurry this up... she thought miserably, trying to burrow into her coat and fend off the chill. Her stomach knotted up as she anxiously awaited to see what the night had in store “Have you heard?” A couple nearby were casually talking about the latest news. “The Orange family have gone missing! I think the Rinds had something to do with it…” “Wouldn't surprise me,” the other said dismissively as he took a bite out of an apple. “Were you there when they had that citrus fight? It got intense. I hear the Orange daughter started it. Still, a real shame. Best orange juice in town…” “I hate gossip, don’t you?” said a cheery voice into Snow’s left ear. She knew the voice at once as the pegasus she saw in her own home a few days earlier. “Spreads like wildfire! Although I wonder how fast a wildfire would spread in Manehattan… I would just love to test it out. Alas…” Abacus’ words trailed off, though her eyes wore a dreamy expression. “What do you want me to do?” Snow Storm asked, her voice as cold as the midnight air. She wanted to speak with this vile mare as little as possible, though she feared such a thing was too much to hope for. “What, straight to business?” Abacus gave a highly exaggerated sigh. “You’re no fun at all! Fine. The Red Hoof has a bit of a problem with a group over in the east side of the city. He wants them gone, and you’re the mare to do it! The problem is they control a small processing facility, and he doesn’t. And he wants that facility. Capiche?” ...Gone? Could she mean ‘killed’? No. Better not to ask. If I leave them alive at least I can feign ignorance later. “He wants it done tonight,” Abacus added. “So I’d say you better get crackin’, huh? Crackin’ skulls, that is. Ta-ta for now, Snow Storm!” Abacus took off into the night sky, but stopped only a few feet into the air. "OH! I almost forgot. They process... oh, what is it... 'Basilisk Venom'. So be careful not to break anything that looks expensive. And if you touch it, it'll turn you to stone or kill you. I forgot which. Either way, don’t touch it. Here’s a map, by the way.” Abacus rummaged into her saddlebag, grabbed a thick, folded piece of paper, and threw it at Snow Storm’s face. “I suppose it helps if you know where to go. Well then, ta-ta!" Snow Storm sighed, cursing silently as Abacus flew away, a leaden feeling forming in the pit of her stomach. * * * “D’you think it’s true?” Snow Storm hid behind a short wall just outside her target, frowning beneath her mask. She was ground-level, listening to a pair of the facility’s hired muscle talk as they sat by a side-door of the building. She would have taken the place by surprise from above, were it not for the half-dozen or so pegasi flying around. Whoever this criminal is, she thought sardonically to herself, he doesn’t play around. “Do I reckon what’s true?” the shorter of the goons responded, yawning and barely paying his friend any notice. “What that crazy dame said about the Mare do Well showing up tonight,” the other murmured in a hush voice. Snow Storm’s heart leapt into her throat - Abacus had told them?! It’s a trap, she told herself, grinding her teeth. No, not a trap, a test. Well, I can play along… “Whaddya think?” the taller goon asked again, shooting glances around to make sure there was indeed nopony in the vicinity. “She messing with us?” “Who cares?” the stallion replied, “Word is, this shipment’s part of something bigger. Could be bigger than the Mayor, the City, even the Boss himself! So even if she shows, it don’t matter none. I mean, the Boss ain’t gonna just leave something this important unguarded… she tries anything, and she just might find herself outmatched for a change.” “But it’s ridiculous. He’s dealing with the Mare do Well over in Liveryburg! How can she possibly be here, too?” “No idea. Could be a double. My brother reckons there’s a whole bunch, even thinks a few have died out there. Always seemed a bit strange, one mare fighting night after night like that, going up against the worst of this city without a scratch…” He turned to his companion. “Right, we’ve chatted long enough. Better see how Silver’s coming along, said he’d be- did you hear something?” Snow Storm froze for a moment. Could they have heard me? But I wasn’t even moving… she thought, sinking her head behind the wall she was peeking out from. “Look, it’s just a cat.” The other sentry pointed out the feline which had just come out from behind a set of trashcans, carrying a fresh kill in its mouth. He chuckled at his twitchy friend. “You’re seriously on edge tonight. Need a drink? I snuck a flask in my bag. Or, if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll go see if there are anymore cats to spook you.” “You won’t be laughing when she gets the drop on you,” the shaken goon said. Just as it seemed like the less-rattled of the two was about to move toward Snow Storm’s hiding location anyway, the door they were guarding swung gently open. There were quick, hushed murmurs followed by the two door guards locking eyes and grinning. “Looks like we caught something after all, huh?” Snow Storm risked a peek over her hiding wall. A third guard was poking his head out of the doorway, scowling at the two. “Found a bat sneaking around the back. You two know what to do… I’ll take watch here, you drag him to the chains, boys.” They nodded eagerly, walking quickly inside and leaving the third stallion alone. Snow Storm held her breath. Let’s hope he’s dumb… she thought, kicking a tin can, bouncing it into the narrow alleyway where her one opportunity for entrance was. Come on buddy, check it out... As luck would have it, the goon absentmindedly turned towards the source of the noise and headed over, staring at the can for a few vital seconds. “...Huh, wonder what moved it?” Snow Storm snuck quietly up to him, slamming the crook of her foreleg into the back of the stallion’s head, knocking him out cold. She caught him before he completely crumpled to the concrete ground, and hid him behind the trashcans which the cat had run out of. The door he had left unguarded loomed before her as she turned to face it, and she felt a shiver down her spine. She had spent years training to fight, but subterfuge was a new and daunting challenge for the mare. She slowly slipped inside, hugging the far wall and listening closely for hoofsteps. Now comes the hard part. 5 “Would you give it a rest already?” Aella sighed as she followed Flyntt on their designated patrol route, the latter taking powerful, almost aggressive strides. She could only imagine the hell that was going to break loose when Amber told her superior about the surprise visit. Flyntt and Murdoc might even finally come to blows. Luna knows it’s about time. “He obviously doesn’t want to be a Guard anymore. Or is this something to do with your own personal pride?” “It’s… you haven’t had a partner in years, you just wouldn’t understand,” Flyntt muttered angrily as they headed down the street. “At least yours is still alive,” she retorted coldly. “...Even after these years,you still haven’t let go, have you? And you think I’m holding onto the past?” he replied, not daring to smile. This was one of the few topics Flyntt knew all too well to tread carefully around with her. “Looking a pair of parents in the eyes and telling them their kid was killed in the line of duty is a little different from some spoiled brat throwing a hissy-fit because he didn’t get his way.” Flyntt sighed, looking to the cobblestone floor as they walked. He had secretly hoped that Aella managing to kill Bloodshot several months ago would have healed her in some small way, but if anything it had only brought those painful old memories back up to the surface. “You’re right, I’m sorry.” he conceded. “I guess I just miss him, that’s all.” “Huh, I didn’t know you swung that way,” Aella said with a half-cocked grin, her tone lightening considerably. “It answers a lot of questions, though.” “Like why I haven’t proposed yet?” he grinned back. He secretly hoped the question would shock her on some level, or at least that she’d have more to say in response than another quip. Aella scrunched her face for a moment, wondering if Flyntt was being serious. “I figured it was just because I’m too much bat for you,” she finally said after a short silence. “You’re too much bat for anyone," he replied. As happily as he joked about this with her, he knew Murdoc had once had feelings for her two. Had she chosen him all those years ago, it was likely that Flyntt would have left Equestria itself long ago. “You may be right about that.” She looked at him as they turned a corner, heading down yet another sparsely-populated street. “But is the kid really worth stressing over? Especially after he made an ass of himself in front of everyone?” “I’m just worried, y’know? Though I need to apologize. I know you’ve been hurting these past few months and all I’ve been talking about is that stubborn moron…” “What we need to worry about is getting the Oranges back. Pelleas can wait.” “Speaking of which…” Flyntt moved a little closer to her, “Any word from the kid? I figured she would be out all hours trying to find a lead, but after the whole Bloodshot incident it’s almost like she doesn’t trust us anymore…” “Not a word since I helped her with a little something a month ago. She must’ve gotten a similar letter to Leaf’s - or worse. Oh don’t look so surprised. He showed it to me, too.” “You’d have thought she’d be a little more trusting after everything we did to help her…” Flyntt mused. “Has Murdoc spoken with you about the case? I know he’s been giving it his all, and with that newbie eager to help I figured he’d have learned something.” “Not a damned thing.” “It’s a horrible feeling, Aella. The citizens only get any sleep because they think we’re protecting them from thugs like that bastard. If they knew we were just as powerless?” Flyntt shuddered just imagining the panic that would cause. “Thankfully, as far as they know, the Rinds were involved. Family dispute that’s finally boiled over.” “I’m honestly worried I’m being followed at night,” Flyntt says in a much quieter tone. “Can’t be too careful these days. Feels like the Red Hoof’s got eyes and ears everywhere now, even more so than before the kid showed up. Really is starting to feel like she’s changed everything… and between you and me? Not entirely for the better, either.” “The fact is, it’s going to come down to either the Red Hoof or the Mare do Well. They both can’t exist in the city.” Aella gave a brief, roguish grin. “Personally? My bits are on her.” “Right now, it feels almost like we’re playing the waiting game here. Can’t talk to her, can’t go after him either… and trying to get Pell to return is like trying to pull teeth… Can you give me your opinion here for a moment? I want to know if getting him to rejoin the guard is even worth my time.” Aella shrugged. “It probably isn’t. He’s too absorbed in himself.” Flyntt stopped outside the barracks, and smiled at her, “I need to go replace the shine on this thing, I’ll see you in about ten minutes,” he said, gesturing to his armor. Just as Flyntt headed inside, a lanky young cadet crashed into him, seeming distracted, “Help, help! There’s something big going down in Downtown!” “Easy, Cadet,” Aella said, putting on her authoritative tone. “Slow down and speak clearly. What’s this about downtown?” “It’s the Mare do Well, ma’am. We’ve had a sighting, and she’s causing all kinds of havoc in the Downtown area!” “Right!” Aella said, snapping into action. “Let the others know about this. I’m on my way now!” She took off, following the direction where the Cadet pointed. 6 An unmentioned upgrade to Snow Storm’s costume had been the lenses of the ‘eyes’. Yet another work of magic, they would give the Mare do Well enhanced sight in almost any lighting condition barring complete blackness. At night, for example, they would brighten her view. But now, they were working in the opposite fashion. The building Snow Storm had snuck into was flooded with a bright, sterile fluorescent lighting. The lenses in her mask seemed to work the same as the rest of the magic in her suit, granting her the most comfortable, dimmed view against the blinding lights. She peeked over the crate she was hiding behind, making a mental note of the building’s interior. It seemed to be some sort of combination science laboratory and refinery. There were a group of unicorns surrounding a rectangular metal table, looking like scientists in their long, white overcoats and protective goggles. She saw them working with flasks and vials of some sickly-looking, pale-yellow liquid. They seemed to handle each flask with utmost delicacy, taking care not to spill even a droplet of what Snow Storm figured was the Basilisk Venom. “And if you touch it, it'll turn you to stone or kill you. I forgot which.” Abacus’ words rang in Snow Storm’s ears as she stared at those deadly vials, not particularly liking either possible outcome. Now, how can I go about this…? Startling the unicorns seemed to be a very bad idea, indeed. She looked around more, spotting only a couple guards. Too few, her calculating mind told her. There must be more. Perhaps she could get the jump on those two early… You’re going to have to reveal yourself. It was the ever-persistent voice of her brother, whom seemed to have take up a permanent residence in her head. Wait until those workers have set everything down, then pop out. Are you nuts!? Don’t tell me you can’t take whatever they can throw at you. Yeah, but- Wait. Something’s happening. She heard voices and laughter coming from the other side of the workers, and then a Fulake was harshly shoved forward. He lost his footing and fell. A pair of bulky Earth Ponies kicked and swiped at him before hoisting him up and pinning him against the wall. One of them waved a hoof at a ‘scientist’ and barked orders. The scientist nodded, filling a dropper with the venom. He held the dropper in a magical grasp and casually sauntered over to the ponies and their capture, as if he’d done it before. Maybe he has, Snow Storm thought, suppressing a shudder. She strained her ears, listening to the criminals and waiting for the right opportunity to make her move. The other pair of guards began to patrol the inside of the building. Snow Storm noted that one of them would reach her in only a couple of minutes. When he’s near me, I strike. “Well well well,” she heard one of the larger goons say. “What’s a sneaky little bat doing this far from the belfry? Come to spy on us?!” “El Toro don’t like spies,” the other Earth Pony said, shoving the Fulake’s head against the wall and tilting it upwards. He seemed to be the proper enforcer of the two. El Toro…? Snow Storm thought, frowning. It was a name she’d never heard of before. Her job here became a little clearer, however: This ‘El Toro’ was obviously a competition of the Red Hoof. Competition might cause him to make a mistake. You do know what that means, don’t you? She was slowly coming to think of that voice as her intuition, the subconscious voice of reason she could rely on. What? Depending on how big ‘El Toro’ is, it’ll mean an all-out gang war. “Yeah, he don’t!” the smaller of the two Earth Ponies said, bringing Snow Storm back to reality. “Or maybe… maybe you wanna join us, huh? That it, fruitcake? You think you’re tough enough run with the big boys? We ain’t like the namby-pamby Red Hoof. We’re the real deal! So talk! What’re you doin’ here?!” The dropper inched closer to the Fulake’s eyes. He shut them tightly, grimacing and squirming against his captors. “I’m here because somepony has to try and bring thugs like you down!” he snarled, still fighting against the goons. “I don’t know who this ‘El Toro’ is and, frankly, I don’t care! As long as the Mare do Well stands between you and this city, I’ll be right behind her!” “Oh-ho! Little fruitcake here knows about the Mare do Well, eh?” The goon slammed his captive’s head hard against the wall. “How’s about you tell us all about her? We might even let you go if you do!” Snow Storm squinted hard, and after a few seconds it became obvious that it was none other than Pelleas. A few months ago, he was her eyes and ears in the guard, the one pony there she could trust… but a lot had happened since then, and now he was merely a burden that just so happened to know her secret… a burden that she now had to rescue, to make matters more complicated. “You hurt her best informant, and she’ll come after you…” Pelleas spat, his vision blurring as he stared at his captors. “I don’t have to say a thing.” “‘Informant’, huh? You know what that word rhymes with?” The stallion slammed his hoof down, catching a scurrying rat by the tail. “It rhymes with rat, fruitcake. And El Toro don’t like rats. You know what we do to ‘em?” “Scream and run away like little fillies?” Pelleas grinned. Either he was delusional from the beating they’d given him, or absolutely convinced Snow Storm would save him from their wrath. Either way, his cockiness made the mare feel a slight annoyance- he had stupidly allowed himself to get caught, and now he was her responsibility to save. “Wrong answer, bat-brain!” The goon held the rat up as the dropper floated toward it, putting the smallest amount of venom on the creature. It squeaked, squirming in the stallion’s hoof. He dropped the rat as it turned to stone; it shattered on the floor into pieces. “And that was just the outside. Think of what the venom would do if we put it inside ya!” Pelleas squirmed in fear, “Y-you wouldn’t!” His bravado disappeared as soon as he saw the results of the venom. “Not so tough now, are ya fruitcake? Now, what do ya know about the Mare do Well? Our boss has a little interest in her, see? Tell us what we wanna know and maybe you won’t become a pretty little lawn ornament.” “S-she’s a… she’s a member of the Guard…” he whimpered, “Took the law into her own hooves after she realized our limits…” The beefy stallion grinned tightly. “Now, see? That wasn’t so hard.” He turned to leave, nodding at the unicorn. “Turn him into a statue.” Pelleas whimpered, backing away as the unicorn approached. Snow Storm sighed silently. Pelleas was going to have a lot to answer for once she was done bringing down these guys. Within an instant she rushed out of the darkness, sending the smaller of the Earth Ponies crashing to the floor. The unicorn holding the Venom jumped and backed away. The larger one came from the side, swinging a large hoof at her face. She blocked it, sending her own straight into his gut like a missile. “You know, I’m having a bad week and I really hate bullies,” she said, slamming her head against his and sending him reeling backwards. The stallion fell backwards with a grunt, “You can’t stop our Boss, he makes the Red Hoof look like a scared little filly, and when he finds out you’ve messed with his shipment, he’s gonna-” “Shut up,” she said coldly, knocking him out. A hard hoof fell on the back of her head, staggering her. Instinctively she bucked out, feeling another goon’s jaw break from her blow. They were beginning to circle around her, backing her up against the wall. “Watch out!” Pelleas scrambled to his feet and joined the fray, running himself into another of the goons like a bull. Sis, get out of there! the voice of her brother pleaded. The rest of the building’s guards circled around her and began to close in. What was supposed to be a fairly straightforward (if undesirable) mission was quickly turning into a nightmare. No! She hunched forward, her eyes moving rapidly from one goon to another, waiting for her one and only chance to strike. You’re going to fail. Mom and dad are going to die. It’ll be all your fault. SHUT! UP! The circling ponies advanced, but she was ready. A pair of stallions lunged from her flank; she bucked out, striking one in the face and clipping the other. The pegasus at her head seized the opportunity to strike; she skirted around and pummeled quickly into his side, crippling and disfiguring his wing. She had two more of them down before the rest overcame their shock and attacked at once. She didn’t care. They came at her, swinging and kicking and biting. Her suit absorbed most of the beating, but she would have a fair number of bruises the next day. One hoof landed on her face, causing an explosion of pain in her already-sore head. It only served to anger her. Dear Epona, it’s finally happened, she thought in the midst of the battle. I’ve finally snapped. Pelleas took another pony or two off of her; her rear legs hit a bulky stallion twice her size with full force, causing him to cough up a wad of phlegm and blood. One grabbed at her cape; she turned and swung hard into his chest, sending him reeling with a cracked rib. It took her a moment to realize the hitting had stopped. The few ponies left standing had begun to back away. She held her head low again, her favorite stance. It intimidated the idiots. She felt a noise come out of her throat, and realized it was a growl. The goons backing away looked scared, and she liked that. She liked it a lot. All at once, the stallions that still had the energy to stand had fled the place, leaving only Pelleas, Snow Storm and several unconscious bodies in the room. Pelleas heaved a long sigh, groaning and shaking his head, “Thanks,” he said, turning to Snow Storm with a sheepish grin. Ignoring him, she yelled out to the fleeing ponies, “This building now belongs to the Red Hoof! Anyone who has a problem with that can take it up with me!” Pelleas stopped smiling, turning pale. “W-what… what are you talking about? You aren’t working for the Red Hoof…” “You stay out of this,” she grumbled, walking towards the doorway she had come in. Epona give me the strength to not deck him in the face. After a moment, Pelleas composed himself, rushing over and blocking her path. He looked confused and hurt, and she scowled at him from beneath her mask. “So it was all a lie. This city never had a savior, it was all just a part of the Red Hoof’s plan,” he said, as if this was the final piece of the puzzle he had spent the last few month unhealthily obsessing over. “There was no ‘Mare do Well.’ No hope… no one to stand against him. I… I threw away my job for a lie!” he spat, snarling and raising his hoof at her, as if to strike. “If you hit me, it’ll be the last thing you ever do,” she retorted coldly, shoving him aside harshly. “Now stay out of my way. I’ve got a job to do.” “I believed in you! I thought you were going to clean up the trash in this city, the way those fools in the guard never could! How could you do this to the city? How could you do this to me?” “You wouldn’t understand,” she grumbled, throwing open the exit. A cool blast of air hit her, and her suit immediately compensated. She could feel the tears along the sides close themselves up, though such a marvel was beyond her ability to appreciate at the moment. She just wanted to get away. Pelleas walked up to her slowly, “I gave up so much for you… my job, my friends… I thought we had something. I thought you needed me. Was I wrong? Am I just a pawn in whatever game you and your boss are playing, Mare do Well?” “What I don’t need is somepony fouling up my job!” She shot him a look; he could feel the irritation radiating from beneath the cold, blank mask. “I’ll be lucky if the Guard hadn’t noticed this incident. And that’s going to make someone extremely unhappy.” Pelleas turned away in disgust. “There’s nothing more to be said. There are no heroes, and if I can’t make a difference helping you, I’ll make one helping myself instead…” It was his turn to shove her aside as he stormed out the door, leaving her all alone save for the ponies that lay beaten beneath her hooves. One of the few left conscious was whimpering in a corner, trying to crawl to a different exit. “D-damnit, need to get outta here…” he whispered weakly. Her ears twitched as she could hear the cacophonous clanking of armor. Guess that’s my cue, she thought bitterly, bolting out of the side-door which she had entered through earlier. 7 Flyntt whistled, looking over the carnage, turning to Aella as she inspected the place, “Haven’t seen this kinda handiwork in awhile… I guess this means the Mare do Well’s back in action, huh? Question is, what does she want…” “What is all of this, anyways?” Aella asked, taking a small whiff of a beaker filled with some sickly-yellow substance. She backed away, gagging and retching. “Eugh it smells like rotten eggs beaten with a gym sock.” “It’s either a new drug, or a chemical weapon of some kind… you might wanna back away from that stuff. I’m getting a bad feeling about whatever these boys were cooking up…” Aella’s eyebrow cocked. “The Red Hoof? With a chemical weapon? That’s no good.” Flyntt looked around, raising an eyebrow. “...Something’s wrong here. This whole operation isn’t his style.” The Fulake headed over to one of the few ponies still conscious and knelt down, “Listen kid. You answer me one question and I’ll let you walk… er, limp- outta here. Are you working for the Red Hoof?” “You and the Red Hoof can both go to hell,” the stallion growled clutching at his gut. “He and his pet Mare do Well! El Toro for life!” Flyntt turned to Aella, “Did you hear that? He thinks she’s in cahoots with the Red Hoof... this idiot really must be new to this city. Do you think we might have a rival gang on our hands?” “Maybe the Captain will know more.” She whistled into the building, catching the rest of the Guards’ attention. “Listen up, boys and girls! This place is officially under quarantine until we know what we got! It’ll be your job to protect this place, got it?!” “Yes, sir!” Flyntt smiled, “Wanna go get a drink now we’re off shift, Aella?” “You know it.” 8 Abacus struck the Mare do Well across the muzzle, her wings flared as she glared hotly at the masked mare. “Insolent little bitch! I wanted you to take that facility for us, not alert half the city! I bet you did that on purpose, didn’t you?! ‘Oh I think I’ll just subtly let the Guard know what I’m doing, that’ll show Abacus!’ Do you think you can undermine me?!” Snow Storm bit down on her lip, summoning every ounce of discipline to not run her hoof straight into Abacus’ face. Just do it, already, she thought, feeling her foreleg tremble. Stop letting her treat you like a dog! “There were complications,” she mumbled, looking away before she lost control. Her face felt like it was ready to explode; she could feel something dripping from the corner of her mouth. The coppery taste on her tongue told her it was blood. “Oh, what’s that?” Abacus brought a hoof up to her ear in a mock-listening gesture, sneering. “I’m sorry, I can only make out excuses for your incompetence! You had one job, and you blew it!” “They had somepony!” Snow Storm shouted, getting into Abacus’ face. “I couldn’t just let them torture him!” “Oh… oh my!” Abacus took a step back, her eyes wide and mouth open. She reared up, putting a hoof on her heart. “Well now that changes everything! It’s… it’s almost as if I don’t care! You do what you’re told, and that’s it!” “Well then tell me why they were all expecting me to show up! You told them I was coming!” Abacus snorted. “Of course I did! Do you think I’m going to make it easy for you? No, you need a real challenge. Congratulations, you failed. But I’m not entirely heartless. You’ll get another chance soon. Now get out of my sight before I renegotiate our deal! I’ve got a lot of cleaning up to do thanks to you.” In her mind, Snow saw herself throttling Abacus. She could grab that pegasus by the neck and strangle her until she stopped kicking. It wouldn’t be hard to find the Red Hoof after that - he’d want revenge. She’d go after him, no-holds-barred. Instead, grumbling, using every ounce of her willpower not to give in, Snow Storm limped off towards her cold and empty home. * * * Abacus watched the building with a heavy scowl on her face. Those nosy Guards were crawling all over it, ruining her beautiful plan and defiling what was rightfully hers. Of course, that useless Mare do Well had been as loud as possible to attract their attention. It was the only explanation. She had a mind to go to one of the Oranges right now and cut off an ear or two. That kind of message would get through the little bitch’s thick skull. Maybe then she’d learn a little tact, a little subtlety. Her breath quickened at the thought of inflicting some sort of punishment on them, and it took her a moment to realize that she was actually getting excited. There’s something wrong with you. That annoying voice was back, deep in the recesses of her mind and quiet as a whisper. It was a voice she had been silencing ever since she was a homeless filly. It was whatever was left of a conscience inside her, and she ignored it. Eventually it would be gone completely, but not soon enough for her liking. She spotted a Fulake slinking away, doing his best to avoid the Guards all around the building. “Hello, what have we here?” she muttered to herself, hovering into the night air to silently follow him. If she was lucky, he could prove useful. Very useful, indeed. 9 Flyntt hesitated slightly before knocking on the door to Captain Leaf’s office. Things had been more tense in the barracks ever since the Mare do Well had brought down Bloodshot, and the Captain was no exception. “Sir! Lieutenant Flyntt and Aella here to report on the building raid!” “Send them in,” he said, shuffling papers around in his magic. The young cadet nodded, opening the door for the pair and showing himself out. “Sir,” Flyntt began, eager to get to the point before the Captain accused him of wasting his time, “we have reason to believe the stallions involved in the raid may have been of a different gang to the Red Hoof’s, possibly even belonging to a rival group.” “Preposterous,” the Captain said at once. “There’s no organization large enough in Manehattan to rival the Red Hoof. It was probably some small-timers with a lot of money.” “Well, they seemed to think the Mare do Well was one of the Red Hoof’s henchmen, which suggests to me that they definitely aren’t from around here…” “And do we know for sure that she’s not?” Leaf asked coldly, raising an eyebrow. “Sir, we have no solid evidence to suggest that. After all, the Red Hoof would never have intentionally let his best fighter die at the hooves of his replacement, not when having both Bloodshot and the Mare do Well under his control would’ve left him untouchable.” “Bloodshot was never anything more than a wildcard. But I can see your point - you’ve seen her unmasked, correct Flyntt?” Flyntt tried to hide his shock. The question had come suddenly, catching him completely off-guard. Nothing gets by the Captain. “Y-yes, Sir. I have.” “And your impressions? Could she be a pony who would likely be willingly involved with the Red Hoof?” “No, Sir. I can assure you that he of all ponies is the last stallion she would be associating herself with, though I’ll admit things have been rather quiet of late with regards to the Red Hoof…” “Yet the ponies you met at the attack site suggest that he’s on the move again. Expanding his territory - or trying to. He won’t get what he was hoping for. Not with us there now.” “Sir, I spoke with one of the conscious ponies there, and he cursed the Red Hoof’s name. I really don’t think these ponies are working under him,” Flyntt said obstinately. “Yes, but if they’re not working under him, they’re being attacked by him.” Flyntt sighed, deciding not to press the matter. “What do you want us to do? If there really is a gang in the city large enough to rival his, wouldn’t letting them go at it until one side has been crushed be the easiest option?” “With a ruined city and unfathomable casualties between them? I think not!” Flyntt blushed, realizing his stupidity. He stepped back and let his partner do the talking, Aella eager to say her piece. “Sir, what are your orders regarding this new development?” “For now, we’ll investigate the substance found in the building. It must be something interesting in order for the Red Hoof to want it. Regarding the Mare do Well, we’ll have to leave her alone for now. I’ve not forgotten that letter, you know. Dismissed.” The Captain glanced up from his desk; only Flyntt had left. “I said ‘dismissed’, Lieutenant Aella.” “Oh, I heard,” she replied cooly, giving her superior a piercing look. “You dismissed a pair of Guards. Now I’m here as your counselor.” Captain Leaf cocked an eyebrow at that. “I don’t remember granting you any such title." “Well, no, you didn’t.” She stretched her neck forward, leaning over his desk and locking eyes with him. “But everypony here comes to me already, so I might as well become one. You’re overworked, sir. Take a break. Go home. Spend time with your daughter. Luna knows you both need it.” “I’m sure she’s fine,” he said, breaking the eye contact and returning to his work. “She’s nearly a grown mare. She can take care of herself.” “‘Nearly’ doesn’t cut it. You’re away from home too much as it is. How many times does she get to see you? Twice a week, if that?” Gilded Leaf grimaced, making an effort to not look in Aella’s direction. “What do you want from me? I’m the Captain!” “Of course you are,” Aella scoffed, frowning. “The only one. The only single position. Sentries get six-hour shifts; Lieutenants get twelve. So why do you have to get all twenty-four? If you declare somepony a Night Captain, you can drop some of that burden you seem to be carrying on your shoulders.” “Right.” Now he did look up at her, giving her a sardonic snarl. “And when we disagree with each other, the Guard comes to a screeching halt. It was tried once, and it was nothing more than an unending power play. And what if the Red Hoof gets at him? I refuse to dip into his pocket, but that doesn’t mean somepony else won’t. It’s my responsibility to-” “Your daughter is your responsibility, too!” Aella snapped. She straightened herself, glaring down at him. “It’s hard enough for her without a mother, why do you have to make it harder?” “Everything I do,” he retorted slowly, grinding his teeth, “I do for her. I’m here so she can live a safe life. What’s a little absence compared to that?” He had been on the verge of shouting, but somehow managed to bring himself under control just in time. “It’s everything to her,” Aella said, roughly slamming the door as she conceded defeat and stormed out. 10 Snow Storm didn’t bother to turn on any of the lights - she knew her way around her own house blindfolded. She nearly ripped the suit as she pulled it off, throwing it haphazardly into its drawer and dragging herself out of her room. She didn’t want to be in there tonight. She didn’t even want to be in the house tonight. In less than a week it had gone from a place of warmth and comfort to a place of sorrow and loneliness. Her stomach rumbled loudly, but she didn’t feel hungry. Not that she could remember the last time she ate, anyway. Maybe she’d had something while talking to Mr. Rind, but even that moment was hazy now. She stopped before a door she had avoided since returning home. It was a nondescript thing, right next to her own room. She reached for the handle, hesitated a moment, squeezed her eyes shut and opened the door, grimacing as though she were ripping off a bandaid. Frost Storm’s room appeared frozen in time; it was just as she remembered it. She could see that even in the dark. His bed shared the same wall hers did, so he was always within earshot if she had bad dreams. Both rooms had their own bathrooms - the Oranges considered privacy important. His favorite comb lay askew on his sink - he always slicked back his mane to try and impress the mares around the city. His wardrobe was still there, messy and unfolded unlike her own kempt dresser. A funny thought struck her as she stood in the derelict room: There’s no dust in here. She ran a hoof across every surface, confirming her findings. Mom must come in here every day and clean… She crawled into his bed, unused for years, and buried her face into his pillow. His smell lingered, and she sniffed once, twice, and before she realized what was happening, the tears began to fall. She stuffed her face as far as she could into the pillow, muffling her sobs and sporadic screams. “It’s too much!” she cried into the pillow, not caring if anypony was around to hear. “I can’t do this anymore!” Yes, you can! “No! It’s too hard… This fight’s too hard for me!” You have to keep going, sis! Mom and dad are counting on you! “NO! I CAN’T” * * * From downstairs, the doorbell rang. Snow’s head jerked up at once. She glanced around the room, disoriented, and tried to piece together how she’d gotten there. The images hovered over her pounding head, staying just out of reach, mocking her. The ring came again, resonating throughout the house. Yeah, I’m coming, she thought groggily, rolling off the bed and onto her feet. Must’ve fallen asleep. Not for long, considering it was still night out. Perhaps an hour, two at most. She stepped out into the hallway when the doorbell rang for a third time, and that’s when she stopped. Something’s not right, she told herself, looking in the direction of the stairs but seeing little. Unlike the rooms in which moonlight could peek, the hallway had no windows, leaving everything to appear as ink-stained shadows. She saw them begin to stir, and then shook her head. Whatever it was that wanted her, it was still outside. Letting her imagination run wild now would only hurt. And I know exactly what it is that wants me. Of course. Everything came back to her at once. Obviously Abacus had reported the failed assignment to the Red Hoof, and now he wanted Snow. They would come under guise, maybe even pretending to be Guards. She knew better. Whoever it was at the door, she’d have to take them down. The doorbell rang a couple more times as she made her way into the main foyer. She unlocked the door as quietly as possible, and debated on whether or not to let them come in or to throw the door open and attack them by surprise. She decided on the latter. Alright… Her hoof hovered over the door’s handle. On three. One… Two… THREE! She threw her hoof down upon the long handle and pulled back. A blast of cold air hit her face, and she used the door as leverage while throwing out her free forehoof to strike at nothing. What the hay?! Her mind finally caught up with what her eyes told her: there were no ponies before her. Something moved beneath her eyes, and she looked down. The first thing she saw was the last piece of her costume, the large hat which had been taken by some bratty little filly. She hadn’t had the time to go look for it, but apparently someone else had. The hat tilted up, quickly giving Snow her second surprise. “Fi… Figaro?” * * * Fire snapped and crackled gently in the hearth; it was the first time in days that any sort of light and warmth permeated the house. The Diamond Pup sat near it, still shivering despite the fire and the thick layers of blankets Snow Storm had wrapped him in. Snow herself was in the kitchen, trying to fix her new guest something to eat. What would he even like?! Meat, probably. I don’t have any of that! Gems? No, dragons eat gems, or so Frosty used to tell me. But it’s gotta be warm, it’s gotta be-! Soup! That was the key! She raced around the kitchen, throwing together the beginnings of a basic soup. It was something they could both share, and it’d warm his belly right up. Speaking of bellies… Hers growled viciously, giving her a pang harsh enough to make her wince. It had been too long since she’d had a real meal, and only now realized she had been starving herself. She also realized that, for the first time in days, she wanted to eat. * * * Figaro shoveled his dinner into his mouth, getting just as much of the broth onto his fur as he did into his stomach. Guess I’ll have to teach him some manners, she thought, smiling down at the pup. Beneath her smile, though, a hundred questions raced through her brain. How did he get here? How did he know where she lived? The possibility that it was just another one of the Red Hoof’s ploys never left her mind. Stop, you’re being paranoid. I have to be. “So… is it good?” Figaro set his bowl down, stretched his arms, and offered up a loud burp. “Yup! Really good! Thanks, Alphamom!” He pulled the blankets back over himself, burrowing into them and curling up “Alphamom?” Snow cocked her eyebrow at that. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.” The pup peeked out at her from under his blankets. “Well, you killed the big, mean pack leader, so now you’re Alphamom!” “Oh.” Snow grimaced. So he knows what happened, after all. So much for trying to protect him. “You… do know I didn’t mean to, right? It was an accident.” But was that true? If he had been a pony, she might not’ve kicked him hard enough to send him into the rocky cavern wall. But what about earlier? Jumped by ten or more muscles and I didn’t even severely injure any of them. You held back. Of course I did. I have to hold back. But did you hold back because of what happened or because they were all equines? I… I don’t know. I don’t know anymore. “Are you okay, Alphamom? You’re shaking. Are you cold? Do you wanna come under the blankets?” Snow smiled again, though this time it felt forced. “I’m fine. Let’s just forget about that. How did you get here, anyway?” “I sneaked aboard that big metal thing. It went really fast!” Part of the blanket began to move, and Snow realized with amusement that Figaro was wagging his tail. I guess he likes trains, she thought. Remember to take him to the station sometime. “Alright, so why did you come here? Didn’t you like staying with Miss Applejack?” “I came here because you’re my Alphamom,” he replied matter-of-factly, as though it should have been obvious. “Why? Do… do you want me to go?” “Not at all! I could use a friend right now.” “‘A friend’…?” Figaro’s ears perked up, and he jumped out from his blankets. “A friend! I was supposed to give you something!” He patted himself down with his own paws, twirling in circles, even grabbing his own tail once or twice. “Where is it where is it… Wait!” Snow could see his face brighten as he remembered whatever duty he was meant to accomplish. He pulled open the bell on his collar and proudly handed her a note. Dread seized at her gut as she unfurled the paper, sure that it was indeed one of Abacus’ tricks, after all. S., You look like you could use a friend. That’s what I’m here for. Come to your favorite bakery down on Market. I’ll be waiting there tomorrow. Don’t disappoint me. -P. “Figaro?” Snow asked cautiously, eyeing the note as though it would attack at any moment. “Who gave this to you? What did they look like?” “Um…” The pup’s face scrunched as he tried to remember. “Uh, he kinda looked like a pony, but he had fluffy ears and really sharp fangs, like me!” A Fulake, then. ‘P’? Pelleas? Did he intercept the pup before finding out where I was? And for that matter, just how did he find that out? Was it merely a coincidence that he had been snooping around that place? He’s been stalking you. She shuddered at that. Of course she knew he’d had romantic feelings towards her - highly one-sided romantic feelings. But the idea of stalking was taking it a little too far, in her opinion. “Did he say his name?” “Nuh uh, he only said he was ‘a friend’, and told me where to find you! It was scary when I got here… I was alone and I didn’t know where to go.” Figaro yawned, crawling back into his blankets. “I like it here. Don’t make me go away, alphamom.” Moments later, he was snoring. Snow crumpled up the note and tossed it over the grate and into the fireplace, watching the paper blacken, collapse, and then disintegrate in the dancing flames, her thoughts jumbled and racing. At least she'd get some answers tomorrow. Eventually, both the gentle heat and the hypnotizing fire lulled her down into a restless, terrible slumber.