Reddux the Tyrant
Chapter XVIII
Estéril Pezuñas
Worry gnawed at Reddux when he spotted the fort from a distance. He’d not flown into Eruk yet, and had presumed he remained at the keep, but the walls appeared largely intact. He narrowed his eyes, wondering about the lack of destruction. There was damage, he could see that much, but nowhere near the amount he’d anticipated. It seemed to take ages to close the distance, but at last Reddux hovered low over the fort.
The sight of Eruk’s body crumbled against one of the walls sent a shiver down Reddux’s spine. He landed beside his comrade and slowly reached out. His claws touched scales. The body felt hot, but the eternally burning sun easily explained that. Carefully, Reddux shook Eruk by the shoulder, but there was no response.
“This… cannot be.”
Arms shaking, he snatched Eruk’s head and jerked it upwards, but still the dragon didn’t move. Gripping the horns, Reddux turned the head so he could see the face… and promptly dropped it. Eruk’s chin hit the ground as Reddux gaped upon the butt of a tiny spear protruding from an eye.
Reddux’s lips curled up in a snarl. His claws opened and closed repeatedly. “You… you fool. How could you lose? To ponies? What happened to slaughtering them in the name of your mate?” He turned away, seething and growling at the keep. He pounded the stone, smashing his fists into it again and again and emitting vicious, ugly sounds in his throat. His wound burned, his mind afire, his vision red!
With a roar, he ripped a huge chunk of stone off the wall, turned and smashed it directly onto Eruk’s head. “You were supposed to be useful! A warrior! You can rot in Tartarus alongside your pathetic mate. I have no need for dragons who cannot even kill a few ponies!”
He turned away, smoke billowing from his nostrils. For some time he merely stood there, taking deep breaths and steadily calming himself, yet no amount of time would let the fire die. He thought back to the state of Crater Lake and the fate of Tialvis, scratching at his melted scales.
The very thought that ponies were responsible for these setbacks made him sick to his stomach. It had been a mistake to trust the changelings. Their incompetence had resulted in Tialvis’ death, and their ‘agents’ had clearly failed to render the fort defenseless. They had probably already lost control of Celestia as well. There could be only one solution: he’d have to go to Estéril Pezuñas and slaughter every single pony in the city, including the princess. And the changelings…
They were fair game.
His decision made, Reddux turned his attention to his surroundings. No ponies had appeared during his tantrum. Had they abandoned the fort? Or perhaps they were hiding. Even if they managed to kill Eruk, they had to have suffered calamitous casualties in the process. He considered tearing the keep down stone-by-stone, just to be sure.
No, there was no need. This place was but a stepping stone. Estéril Pezuñas deserved his attention far more. This in mind, he spread his wings and launched into the clear blue sky. It didn’t take him long to spot the caravan in the distance. The sight brought a smile to his lips.
Fleur reared, setting her hooves onto the edge of Parjin’s claw, and gazed upon the northern horizon. “There’s the castle!”
Indeed, the castle was just visible as a small mound in the distance. To the East there was only blue water as far as the eye could see. To the West stood the low rise of the Surcingle Mountains, which appeared even more dry than the usual. There was not a cloud in the sky, and the sun unleashed its unrelenting heat upon the land below. Even the winds that rushed in her face felt warm.
Fancy pulled Fleur back by the tail. “Be careful, Miss Purpurnyj.”
Captain Feathers, lying against Parjin’s massive chest, gave him a dour look. “Cut her some slack, First Lieutenant.” She turned to Fine, who stared at the city with a stoic, dark expression. “Are you sure about this plan of yours, pal?”
His tone matched his expression. “None of you objected.”
“’Cause none of us have anything better.” She shifted, rubbing her flanks just above her bandages. “Still, you’re talking about taking only a few of my Redwings down there to save Celestia. What if the dungeons are crawling with changelings?”
He shrugged. “That’s why it’s up to you and Fleur are to convince Sir Deeds to get down there fast.”
Fancy turned to him, expression grim. “I still don’t like that you want Fleur to face him without either of us.”
At last Fine stirred. He glanced at Fancy, no emotion betrayed by his manner, then turned to Fleur. She promptly hardened under his gaze as he said, “Fleur is always free to reject the plan. Fleur?”
Though her heart was hammering against her chest at the thought, Fleur kept her face as firm as she could manage. She knew exactly why Fine had arranged things this way, and she had no intention of disappointing him. “I want to do this.”
He nodded, the tiniest hint of a smile forming on his lips. “I thought as much. Besides—” he turned to Fancy, “—Captain Feathers and her Redwings are going to protect her.”
Oak smirked. “Sorry for taking your mare, Fancy.” She turned to Fleur. “Consider yourself in good hooves, filly.”
Fleur relaxed and flashed Fancy her best smile. “I do. Thank you, Captain.”
Fancy scowled but said nothing.
Parjin’s voice rumbled down at them. “We will be over the city soon. You should all prepare now. I am sure the defenders will not be kind enough to let me drop you off.”
Oak pulled herself up into as close a sitting position as she could. “Right. Give me a hoof, boys.”
Fancy and Fine both approached, each taking one of her hooves. “You sure about this?” Fine asked.
“You’re not a bag of flour to drag around,” Fancy added with a frown.
“Stallions.” Oak rolled her eyes and pulled, and they responded in kind. They dragged her to the edge of Parjin’s claw and lifted her up. Fleur had to admit it looked rather silly as they tossed her over the side. Seconds later Oak was flying just before Parjin, her wings beating in a slow rhythm as the rest of the 42nd Squadron gathered around her in a tight formation.
“Alright,” she shouted over the wind, “Second Flight, I want you to take Fine Crime and Fancy Pants. Fly them directly to the entrance of the castle dungeons and stick with them! Until you hear from me, consider Fancy in charge.”
“Fleur.”
Fleur turned to find Fancy standing over her. “Take care, okay? If that bastard does anything to you while I’m gone—”
She silenced him with a hoof to his lips and offered what she hoped was a confident smile. “Don’t worry, Fancy. Daring Deeds holds no power over me anymore. I’ll be alright.”
Fancy stared at her for some time, shuffling from hoof to hoof as his lips worked.
“Hey, rich colt,” Oak shouted. “We don’t have all day!”
With a flinch, Fancy finally managed a quiet “Be safe” before turning and joining Fine at the edge.
Fine stared at the ground below, then gave Fancy an uncertain look. “You ready for this? It’s a long way down.”
At that Fancy barked a laugh. “Don’t worry, I’ve done this once already.” He shot one more look at Fleur – a confident grin this time – and jumped off.
“Well, alright then.” Fine hesitated, apparently not so eager to take the plunge. After a moment he turned to Fleur. “Remember, Fleur, you don’t have to face him. Just getting him to the dungeons will be enough.”
His voice was wavering. It seemed even the steadfast Fine Crime had things that gave him pause. Fleur found this oddly reassuring, and she nodded. “I’ll be fine, Fine.”
He offered a weak smile. “Of course you will.” He turned back to the edge, sucked in a deep breath, closed his eyes… and finally stepped off.
Fleur hurried to the edge and looked down just in time to see Fine caught by one of the pegasus soldiers. Fancy was also being carried, although two pegasi were needed to keep him aloft. Along with five other pegasi, they swooped over the city and flew for the castle’s western wall.
“Alright, my little pony,” Oak called, “your turn.”
Parjin slowed his flight until he was hovering just beyond the buildings. Fleur could see the panicking ponies in the streets below, but didn’t have time to worry about that. Parjin brought his claw out, and soon one of the pegasi had caught Fleur from behind. Her stomach churned at the abrupt motion and she sucked down a sharp gasp.
“Alright, ponies, we’re going to the castle to meet with Sir Daring Deeds.” Oak flew a tight circle and darted off, followed by her squadron and Fleur.
“Good luck, my friends,” Parjin called. “I will remain at a distance to ease the minds of the citizens.”
Fleur looked down and saw the world passing by in a blur. It made her stomach roil even more, and she promptly brought her eyes forward. As she stared at the castle rising tall over the city, she realized what she was about to do.
She suddenly wished she was back under Crater Lake.
The flight to the castle was surprisingly smooth. Fancy had expected there to be some negative reaction to a bunch of pegasi flying alongside a dragon, but no defenders rose from the castle to stop their approach. He did see a lot of soldiers mustering along the walls, but they paid the squadron no mind at all. They landed without incident in the castle’s western courtyard, which was covered in dried, brown grass and shrubs.
Fancy gave himself a moment to steady his stomach as the pegasi all landed in a circle around them. He turned to see that Fine Crime’s face was green, but the stallion managed to stay steady. “So, does anypony know exactly where the dungeons are?”
The soldiers exchanged uncertain looks, but Fine raised his hoof as soon as he had recovered from the flight sickness. “I do. Come on, everypony, and be careful: we have no idea who is or isn’t a changeling.”
He led them to a door, neatly set in an out-of-the-way corner. They ran down a long, empty hallway that was so hot Fancy wondered if he wasn’t roasting on the inside. Within seconds, Fine had paused next to another door. His horn shimmered, but the door didn’t budge. “Locked, of course. Give me a second.”
“What are you ponies doing here?”
They all turned with a jerk. A young pegasus in leather armor flinched at the sudden attention, but didn’t back down. “This area is off limits.”
Fine peered at the stallion. “And who are you?”
The pegasus eyed them, fidgeting and ruffling his feathers. “The jailer. Now explain yourselves.”
The jailer? Fancy stepped forward and examined the stallion. He was yellow with a silver mane. He looked startlingly familiar, but Fancy couldn’t place him. Somehow he knew he had seen this stallion before.
He shook off his examination when the stallion took a cautious step back. “We are here to protect Princess Celestia. We know she’s being kept in the dungeons, and her life is in jeopardy.”
Fine let out a small hiss, and Fancy glanced back to see stark disapproval in his frown.
“That’s nonsense,” the jailer snapped. “There’s nopony down there right now. You should be outside preparing for that dragon!”
Fine stepped forward, head high and expression ominous. “We know she’s down there. If you think otherwise, open the door and show us. It’ll be a lot faster than us standing here and arguing about it.”
The jailer shifted from hoof to hoof, his eyes going to the pegasi soldiers who looked about ready to skewer him. His hesitation had Fancy on edge, for he had to admit that the situation looked odd.
But at last the jailer sighed and pulled out some keys from his vest. “Fine, it’s not like there’s anything important down there. Better to get this over with so you can go face that dragon like the others.”
Fancy’s ears perked, his eyes going wide. Dragon…
He knew exactly where he’d seen this stallion before.
They parted to let the jailer through, but as he passed Fancy moved in close. He shot a glance at Fine Crime and motioned for him to keep his distance. Fine raised an eyebrow, but nonetheless kept in the back of the herd.
The jailer took his time finding the right key, mumbling something to himself. At last he found the one he was looking for and began to unlock the door. He stepped through as soon as it was open. “Come on, then.”
Fancy followed him down the stairs, prepping the spell in his mind. He would need about a half-second to get it going, but surprise would be on his side. “Tell me, weren’t the dungeons abandoned years ago?”
“That’s right.”
“So why is there any need of a jailer?”
The jailer missed a step, but didn’t stop walking. “Well, I… I’m really more of a keykeeper and locksmith, really. You’d be amazed how often the nobles end up locking the wrong doors.”
“I’m sure.” They reached the bottom of the stairs, coming upon a long, dark hallway with empty cells on either side. Fancy, his grasp on the spell firm, paused as the stallion turned to him. “I was also wondering about your wing.”
The jailer cocked his head, then glanced back at his wings. “What about my wing?”
Fancy smiled, but his body tensed. “It looks really good for having been broken very recently, Mr. Cantante.”
“What are you—” The stallion’s eyes went wide and he began to backpedal. Fancy’s horn flashed and a yellow, aural sword appeared before him. The blade pierced the jailer's throat just as he was about to shout out a warning.
His blood was green.
Fancy cancelled the spell and the changeling hit the floor as soon as the aural sword had disappeared. He squirmed and clutched at his throat, emitting weak gasps. The sight made Fancy’s stomach churn and he promptly turned away. It had seemed so straightforward a moment ago, but now he just felt dirty. Frosty was right: he wasn’t soldier material.
The pegasi gathered around, some examining the changeling but most eyeing their surroundings. Fine stepped up and watched the jailer’s last, desperate gasp. “I’m actually rather impressed.”
Fancy sucked down a gulp of air and turned to examine his dark deed. As he did, the changeling’s yellow coat shriveled and warped, gradually shifting to something that was half-changeling, half-pony, like a regular pony’s coat had been stretched tight around a changeling’s chitinous carapace. The sight filled him with horror and he turned away again. Was that how they all looked when killed in-disguise? There was the rattling of keys, and Fancy turned to see that Fine had taken the jailer’s chain.
“Alright, everypony.” Fine gestured down the hall. “Keep your eyes on the cells. We don’t want any surprises.”
They moved slowly, eyes tracing their surroundings in the dark hallway. The place felt fairly stereotypical of a dungeon: bland stone walls and ceiling, small cells filled with grime, shackles on the floors and walls. It struck Fancy as very old-fashioned… but then, Estéril Pezuñas was an old city. It was no wonder these cells hadn’t been used in so long; modern standards rendered this place obsolete.
To Fancy’s relief, no prisoners resided in the cells. Better yet, no changelings lurked in the gloom to pounce. An eerie quiet filled the dungeon, disturbed only be the inordinately loud hoof falls of the ponies. Fancy had to wonder if maybe Fine’s information had been mistaken. Where were the changeling guards? Shouldn’t there be an alarm going out? It all felt far too easy.
The dungeon wasn’t that big, and already they reached the end of it. Fancy turned to look back the way they came, but saw nothing out of place. “Fine, are you sure of your information?” He turned back to find Fine Crime pressed against the stones, one ear flat to the wall. His horn had a dim glow to it. Fancy and the soldiers shared curious expressions.
Fine stepped back, his expression grim. “They’re back there, and waiting for us.”
Fancy blinked, then pressed his own ear to the wall. He heard nothing. “How do you know?”
“Tricks of the trade.” Fine studied the wall, tapping his knife so that it swayed. “Normally I’d pick the lock, but the changelings can re-lock the door before we’d be able to open it, to say nothing for the inevitable ambush. We’ll have to get in another way.”
“What do you propose?”
Fine closed his eyes, apparently considering the situation. “I have a spell that might get us in there, but I’ve only used it once, and that was just me. I think I can manage two ponies, though.”
Fancy stared at him. “Are you suggesting we send just two ponies in there to fight the changelings?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Fine replied with a smile. “I’m suggesting we send two ponies in there, one to catch them off guard and the other to unlock the door for everypony else.”
Fancy grimaced and kicked at the floor. “That still sounds really risky.”
Fine turned to the pegasi. “Anypony here have a better idea?” When none bothered to answer, he turned back to Fancy. “Alright then. You’re a big colt, Fancy; think you can hold off the changelings for…” His horn shined and he closed his eyes, head shifting slightly to the wall. “Fifteen seconds?”
“Fifteen seconds?” Fancy shifted and cast a wary gaze at the wall. “It’ll take that long?”
“With a lock like this? Yes.”
Fancy’s insides did a nasty flip as he considered how many changelings might be behind the wall. He swallowed audibly and closed his eyes. He saw Long Lance, Blistering Sparks and Frosty Sundae. Their images helped him shove down the hesitation, and he managed to force a smile to his lips. “If I can face a dragon, I should be able to take on a few changelings.” He glanced back at the Redwings. “Right boys?”
The pegasi shared knowing grins. “You’ve got this,” one of them said.
“Then let’s hop to it.” Fine turned to the wall and motioned Fancy to come closer. “I’ll need you to press in close to me. Try not to get grabby.” He his face didn’t offer even a hint of amusement.
Fancy couldn’t resist a smile even as he wondered at Fine’s solid expression. “I’ll do my best.”
They pressed close to one another, and Fine’s horn began to shine. There was a long, uncertain pause as he concentrated. “Three… two… one.”
Smoke roiled up from the ground, covering the two of them and blocking all vision. Fancy held his breath. Abruptly, the air became cooler, as if it had been replaced all at once. He blinked as the clouds dissipated…
And found himself and Fine standing amongst a dozen startled changelings. For a half-second, they all simply gaped, their strange blue eyes fixed on the intruders.
Then Fine chuckled. He turned to the closest changeling with a grin. “That was cool, right?” He turned to another, which blinked as he pointed at it. “I bet you weren’t expecting that.”
An instant later, his hind legs smashed into the changeling just behind him.
Fancy jerked into motion, his horn flaring and an aural sword appearing at his side. It slashed through the chest of the nearest changeling even as he began working on another spell. Fine had already reached the now-obvious door by the time the creatures reacted.
Adrenaline fueled Fancy as he bucked and punched and slashed at them. He fought with such ferocity that most had to leap back, but he knew pure aggression wouldn’t stop them for long. Already their horns were shining, and a burst of energy flew over his shoulder to sizzle against the wall.
Fancy cracked a forehoof against the jaw of one foe not fast enough to get out of range, then leapt backwards to press against the wall. He finished his spell and brought up a shield just in time to stop a stream of beams, green fireballs and aural weapons. The shield pulsed with every hit, the impacts sending throbs of energy down Fancy’s horn.
Things seemed calm on Fancy’s side of the shield, even as the changelings threw all they had at him. He took the opportunity to analyze the situation and realized that at least half of them had been killed or knocked unconscious. Fancy couldn’t help being astounded; had he really performed that well?
Fancy horn began to ache against the onslaught. He redoubled his efforts, but knew he couldn’t keep this up for long. His ears perked to shouting, and he looked beyond his enemies to see a wave of changelings charging through the hall. There had to have been thirty of them!
“Fine, now would be a really good time to get that door open.”
Fine’s voice was smug. “If thou wish it” —the door swung open— “it shall be done!”
The majority of the changelings skidded to a halt, and those that didn’t were soon bowled over by the eight pegasi that came charging through the door, emitting battle cries and brandishing spears. Fancy released his shield and moved to join them, but this proved impossible as the size of the hall limited them to only three fighters at a time.
Fine appeared at his side, shoving his shoulder. “What are you doing? Form a shield in front of our guys!”
“What?” Despite his confusion, Fancy did as he was told, a bright yellow wall forming at the spot where the changelings and pegasi met. It had no effect on real weapons, but Fancy quickly realized the point as the changelings in the rear began lobbing spells over their allies. Fancy spaced his hooves and focused everything he had on keeping the onslaught back as the soldiers did their part.
Fancy’s height made it easier to see what was going on, and the sight left a pang of worry in his chest. The pegasi were strong fighters for their size, but they were still outnumbered three to one. Though the changelings’ magical attacks might have been useless, they were just as capable of using their hooves as any pony, and the fighting appeared brutal. Upon realizing their plan might not work, Fancy turned to Fine, but his words caught.
Fine’s horn was shining brightly, his eyes focused on the conflict.
A screech resounded through the hallway. Fancy jerked about and was astonished to see one of the changelings set ablaze. It reared back and shrieked, and the others promptly tried to back away from it, but there was no room to do so. Panic began to work its way through the changelings as they scrambled from the inferno, but those in the front were trapped by the pegasi. Confused and distracted, they began to fall like wheat before a scythe.
Then, just as soon as it started, the fire winked out. In its place stood a very confused-looking changeling, its head swiveling about at its comrades with wide blue eyes.
Then the pegasi got to it, a spear running through its shoulder and jutting out its side.
Fancy turned to see Fine Crime sweating and sucking down long gulps of air. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah.” Fine wiped the sweat from his brow. “I’m known for my repertoire, not my strength, and that wasn’t an easy illusion.”
“I’m still impressed.” Fancy turned to see that the changelings were already beaten. A few continued their fight, but by now there were as many pegasi as changelings and ‘a few’ of them could never win against Oak’s well-trained soldiers.
Fancy and Fine followed the pegasi as they pursued the routed changelings, Fancy trying his hardest to not look at the bodies now littering the hallway. He noted at least one pegasus amongst them.
They came to a stop when the path split in three directions. The changelings has spread out, leaving the soldiers to question which way was appropriate. Fine and Fancy pushed their way to the front of the crowd. “Great,” Fancy grumbled, “now what?”
“I can’t say for certain.” Fine’s head swiveled to each of the paths. “My boss didn’t say anything about this, and we don’t have time to call up the information.”
Fancy glanced back at the pegasi, who were shifting and muttering anxiously among themselves. “Should we split up?”
Fine groaned. “That’s the fastest way to get us all killed.” He thrust his hoof to the left. “We go that way. All of us.”
Fancy raised an eyebrow. “Why that way?”
“Because it’s better than sitting here trying to come up with a solution.” Fine promptly trotted down the hall. “Come on, if we’re wrong I want to know it sooner rather than later.”
Fancy looked back to the soldiers, all of whom were watching him. He realized that they weren’t going to do anything without his lead. He grumbled at the concept; why’d he have to go and kill a dragon? He didn’t want soldiers looking at him like that. Even so, he turned and trotted after Fine, and soon the soldiers followed suit.
Fancy came alongside Fine as they passed several large chests. “What’s to stop the changelings that went the other directions from escaping?”
“I am not concerned about them escaping,” Fine replied. “My only priority is finding and saving Celestia.”
“And what if she’s in one of the other directions,” Fancy pressed. “They could sneak her away while we’re going in the wrong direction.”
Fine shook his head. “It’s far too late for that. They’ve captured Celestia for the explicit purpose of re-engineering her into a changeling.”
The very idea twisted Fancy’s guts, but Fine didn’t pause at his sharp intake of breath.
“Fleur and I learned that the changeling queen isn’t directly involved in this mission. The workers can still make the pods that do the deed, but it takes them far longer and a lot more energy to do so. Celestia may already be in a pod, and if not they’ll be very close to completing it. They’re not going to abandon all that hard work by breaking the pod and moving her.”
At first, Fancy focused on trying to take all this information in, but then he noticed something odd. “How do you know so much about changelings?”
“I have my sources.” As they turned the corner, Fine let out a small curse. “That makes things a bit harder.” They were just in time to see the changelings pulling a massive iron door closed with a resounding bang. The thing was almost the same width and height as the hallway itself.
Fancy trotted up to the door and focused his magic, trying to detect any magical sources beyond the door. He could sense something thick in the way and realized that the door possessed anti-magic enchantments. He redoubled his efforts, sweat beading on his brow as he struggled to feel anything beyond the iron. Celestia was the most powerful pony in the world, surely these walls couldn’t contain that high a magical signature…
He felt it, a tiny shadow of magical essence. Though he could only graze it, there was a distinct calmness to it, like the surface of a pool.
“She’s in there.” Fine shot him a quizzical look, to which he replied, “I’ve been in almost direct contact with the princess’s magic. I know what her aura is like.”
Fine nodded, but maintained his frown. “Wonderful, now we’ll just have to figure out how to get past three inches of anti-magic, reinforced iron.”
Fancy sat and shook his head. “I have no idea how we’re going to pull that off. This looks…” His voice trailed off as Fine approached the door, noting the intent look on his face. “What?”
Tracing the edge of the door with his hoof, Fine glanced back at him. “The door swings out. Critical mistake.”
An examination of the door revealed nothing to Fancy. “I fail to see how that improves our situation.”
“Watch and learn.” Fine stepped back, his horn shining red. “And see if you can’t prepare a pulling spell or something.”
Fancy glanced back at the soldiers. All he got in return were shrugs and confused expressions. He sighed, turned his attention back to the door and considered the situation. The door itself couldn’t be pulled by magic, not with those anti-magic enchantments. There wasn’t anything else to grab…
A red beam shot from Fine’s horn, striking and holding on the lower hinge of the door. It took nearly a minute, but the metal eventually began to glow red with heat. Once the entire hinge was glowing, Fine summoned an aural sword of his own and sliced at the bright metal. The hinge snapped easily. He promptly began work on the next one.
Ah, so that was his game. Fancy had to admit, he probably never would have thought of it. Even so, the door was still huge and would require a lot of work to pull open, especially with the changelings trying to hold it closed. Getting in still wouldn’t be easy. How were they supposed to…
An idea hit Fancy, and he turned to the pegasi. “I need everypony to go back around the corner.”
The soldiers obeyed without hesitation, and Fancy followed them to their destination. Stepping around the edge of the wall, he focused his magic until a thick shield appeared, covering the entire hallway. To him it shimmered, but to the pegasi it would be barely discernible. That done, Fancy stepped out and looked to see Fine working on the last hinge.
Seconds passed, but at last the hinge was broken and Fine came trotting through the hall. “I take it you have a plan?”
“Indeed I do,” Fancy replied with a smug smile. “I may need you to add your magic to the spell, though.”
“Can do.” They retreated around the corner and past the magical barrier. Fancy then focused on creating a small pocket in the barrier in one corner. With some careful telekinetic manipulation, he began pumping air out of the hallway beyond the barrier.
Seconds passed, the air hissing as it continued to blow past them. The shield flickered, and Fancy began to focus on reinforcing it. More air, more flickering, more reinforcement. The air’s sound changed pitch, and then went silent. Still Fancy worked the magical pump. Time continued to flow, and Fancy began to have difficulty maintaining the two spells. At a signal, Fine joined his magic to Fancy’s. He couldn’t work the magical pump very well, so he just focused on reinforcing the shield.
Fine glanced towards him. “Alright, I’ll admit it: this is pretty clever. But you do realize that if we don’t correct the air pressure fast we’ll kill everypony in there, right?”
Fancy paused the pump just as a loud, spine-tingling creak came from the vault door. His ears folded against his head. “I didn’t think about that.”
One of the pegasi spoke up. “And we’re worried about that… why?”
With a roll of his eyes, Fine replied, “Because Celestia’s in there?”
The soldier had the common sense to not say anything else.
Fine pointed at the magical pump. “You’ll need to reverse that quickly, but not too fast; we don’t want to cause the same problem in reverse.”
“I think I can manage that,” Fancy said, wiping sweat from his brow. “Getting the speed right, though…” The sound of the metal door pushing through its frame hit their ears once more. “No time to think about it.”
Fancy hastily prepared the magic, his heart hammering. He couldn’t imagine the shame he’d feel if he ended up killing Celestia in the process of trying to save her!
A resounding clang signified the door’s failure just as he managed to reverse the pump. He held his breath and promptly began pushing air back into the hall, struggling to keep the air from rushing back in as it so eagerly wanted. Why did it seem so much harder going in the opposite direction?
Sweat dripped into his eye.
Oh, that was why.
Not a sound came from around the corner. Fancy could only assume that the changelings were unconscious or otherwise busy. Being in a chamber with no oxygen had that effect on things, or so he imagined.
By the time he had the air pressure built back to safe levels, sweat was streaming down his face and flanks. He signaled with his hoof, and together he and Fine promptly released the barrier and let the air flow back into the area naturally. The resulting wind blew their manes about and felt incredibly good to Fancy’s worn body. They rounded the corner, pegasi following.
Fancy came to an abrupt stop, his eyes wide at the sight before him. The door lay on the ground, bent and twisted from the excessive vacuum pressure. The changelings were scattered about the hallway, apparently having been pulled through along with the door. All were unconscious.
“Those that survived might wake up soon.” Fine glanced back at the soldiers. “Keep an eye on them. If any of them wake up… they’re more valuable alive than dead.” Orders given, he trotted for the vault, Fancy close behind and hoping Celestia fared better than the changelings had.
They entered the room, which was covered in a black muck from floor to ceiling that felt unpleasantly squishy and sticky underhoof. Small pods provided a dim purple glow, revealing two more doors that both appeared slightly bowed thanks to the vacuum pressure. What really caught Fancy’s attention, however, were the two large, oval pods against the back wall.
Fancy hurried to the larger one and was just able to make out a pony-like form within. Breath caught in his throat, he promptly fired a laser at one corner of the thick green membrane, ignoring the mild headache the act produced. To his relief, he was able to cut through easily, and slowly sliced down along the side of the pod. Fine joined him, targeting the opposite side, and soon a green liquid began leaking from within.
Fancy caught the edge with his magic and ripped the membrane away, only to have a soaked and unconscious Celestia fall on top of him. Her surprising heft knocked him to the floor, but he still managed to cushion her fall with his body. Ignoring the stench of bad eggs produced by the liquid, he hurried to set Celestia on her side and press his ear to her chest. Only when he felt her breathing did he relax.
He sat up and let out a long sigh, all the tension and fear draining from him in a single great wave of relief. “Thank the Goddess, we did it! She’s okay.”
Fine knelt beside her, inspecting the princess’s face. “The pod must have protected her from the vacuum. Good to know; her dying would look really bad on my record. Speaking of which…” He stood and went to the second pod, opening it with the same methods. After a few seconds a pegasus stallion fell free. Fine made no attempt to catch him, letting the pony fall on his side with a thud.
Fancy recognized the stallion as the one that had interrogated him right after the attack on Sueño. “Friend of yours?”
“About as close as I have,” Fine admitted, leaning down to check the stallion’s pulse. “Looks like he’s going to be fine, too.”
“Good.” Fancy turned his attention back to Celestia. He stared at her matted fur, the wild mane that hung limp and pink, her peaceful face. Even as a mess, she remained beautiful. He couldn’t help grinning at their success, and it took all his restraint not to grab her up in a hug. Not that she would have noticed, of course.
“We need to get her out of here,” Fine said. “I seriously doubt we’ve dealt with all the changelings in the castle.”
“Agreed.” Fancy stood and shook the nasty liquid off. “We’ll have to bring her back to Canterlot. Maybe she’ll be safer there.”
“I don’t know,” Fine admitted with a frown. “That would be—”
A rumbling sound reached their ears and the ground under their hooves shook. The stallions shared an alarmed look.
“What was that?” Fancy asked.
Fine’s lips dropped to a grim frown. “I think Estéril Pezuñas just got a very big visitor.”
Riding on Parjin’s claw was nothing at all like being carried by a pegasus, and Fleur’s stomach found the change to be disagreeable. Trying to close her eyes only made her feel worse, though, so she kept them open and focused on the castle. The pegasi flew in a wide formation, their eyes scanning the walls and defenses in search of the Lord of Estéril Pezuñas. Fleur knew he would be there; Sir Deeds was many things, but a coward wasn’t one of them.
Captain Feathers dropped in altitude to fly alongside Fluer. The filly had to resist staring at her bandaged… stumps. “Are you sure you can convince your uncle to help?”
Fleur swallowed the lump in her throat and hoped her voice sounded more confident than she felt. “If Fine says I can do it, then I can.”
Captain Feathers frowned but said nothing.
They were circling the East side of the castle when Fleur spotted him. Sir Deeds was on the battlements, eyes set to the south where Parjin had last been seen. The very sight of him made Fleur feel sore between her hind legs, and a small whimper slipped out of her. She prayed Fine knew what he was doing in giving her this task.
“There he is,” one of the pegasi called, and soon the squadron was descending rapidly. Fleur's stomach jumped and she had to suck in a sharp breath to keep from losing her lunch. They were just beginning to slow and level off, several of Daring Deeds’ guards turning to address the newcomers.
“You!”
Captain Feathers’ shout startled Fleur into missing her landing, and when the pegasus dropped her she fell flat on her barrel. She winced and looked up in time to see the Redwings enter a tight formation. They hovered over the startled ponies as Captain Feathers thrust a hoof at a unicorn who had the curious misfortune of being a mottled purple coloration. It struck Fleur as a particularly ugly coat.
The stallion stared with wide eyes at the squadron. “Captain Feathers? What in the name of Equestria are you doing here? And what happened to your legs?”
Sir Deeds rubbed the scar on his chest with a grim frown. “I want to know the same. Has Guardia del Este fallen?”
Captain Feathers’ growl reverberated through the air in a way that Fleur thought might match even Reddux’s for intimidation. “I’ll have you know we killed a dragon, no thanks to your sorry flank! You left us there to die, you twisted bastard!”
The purple stallion’s face shifted into something between astonishment and anger. “Y-you… you actually killed a…”
“Spear!” Captain Feathers turned and took the weapon proffered by one of her pegasi, then pointed it at the stallion. “Commander Dune, it’s time you ponied up. Show me your leg!”
Dune finally managed to settle on an expression: a deep scowl. “I don’t care what happened, you’re far too low in rank to go ordering me about, Captain.”
Captain Feathers didn’t flinch. “All I’m asking for is a drop of blood, Commander.”
Sir Deeds stepped forward, attempting to push the spear away. “We don’t have time for this! In case you missed it, there’s a dragon out there that could attack at any second. We have to—”
The mention of Parjin finally jolted Fleur into action. “The dragon is not a threat to you!”
All eyes turned to her – save those of Captain Feathers, who maintained a hawkish focus on the Commander. Fleur shrank under the attention.
“Fleur?” Sir Deeds gaped. “You… you came back?”
Struggling to summon her courage, Fleur nodded. “I had to warn you. Reddux has allied with the changelings! They’re here in Estéril Pezuñas, and they have the princess!”
Commander Dune’s lips curled up in a sneer. “We don’t have time for your silly fantasies, little filly.”
“Then put me at ease,” Captain Feathers snarled, once again thrusting her spear his way. “Let’s see the color of your blood, Commander.”
“What?” The Commander gawked at the spear tip. “You mean you actually believe this story? You think I am one of those freaks?”
Captain Feathers hovered a little closer, eyes narrowing. “Your assistant, Whinnie, was one.”
Sir Deeds had been unable to stop staring at Fleur – a fact that left a nasty sensation in her stomach – but he abruptly turned his attention to the two officers. He looked from the captain to the commander and back. “Was there really a changeling at Guardia del Este?”
“There’s no way,” Commander Dune snarled. “This is some crazy conspiracy. The Captain has been blaming me for her squadron’s weakness ever since she arrived at the fort!”
Captain Feathers snarled. “Then prove me wrong! What’s the matter, afraid to spill your own blood?”
“I am not going to entertain this any further,” the commander snapped, head held high. “Stand down, Captain, before I have you arrested.”
“Quiet, both of you.”
The both looked to Sir Deeds, who watched them with a hawkish expression. He turned to examine Fleur from over his shoulder, lips set in a dark frown. Fleur chewed her lip and struggled against the urge to bolt; why did he always seem so big?
Because he was. She trembled at the memory of his body pressed on hers.
At last he turned to the commander. “Do it, Dune.”
Commander Dune’s eyes were like saucers. “What? You’re seriously going to entertain—”
A vicious growl rose from Sir Deeds’ throat. “That wasn’t a suggestion, Commander.”
Commander Dune stared at him, then at the spear tip presented to him. He had a lost expression, as if he were trying to solve a complex puzzle. All eyes were locked on him as he hesitated. Captain Feathers’ muscles were taught; clearly she intended to strike in an instant if necessary. Fleur leaned forward, her breathing paused in quiet anticipation.
With a deep, resigned sigh, the commander at last raised his hoof for the spear. His movement was slow, cautious, as if he feared doing too much damage to himself. The hoof paused just before the blade.
A tense moment of silence filled the air. Not a soul moved.
The flash came, green and bright like a flare. Everypony jerked their heads away against the light, and by the time Fleur’s eyes refocused the commander was several yards away, fleeing at full gallop.
“Get him!” Sir Deeds waved his hooves wildly, face contorted with rage. “Don’t let him get away!”
In an instant, every Redwing and guard was galloping or flying after the commander. Fleur watched them go, a strange mixture of pride and anger filling her. Now there could be no question whether changelings were in Equestria. Now she needed only convince Sir Deeds…
She abruptly felt lightheaded as realization dawned upon her: she was alone with her uncle.
“You did well, Fleur.”
She turned, body sinking low to the ground as he approached. He possessed that charming, toothy smile he so often sported when they were alone, the same one that often invaded her nightmares. “U-Uncle, I… I only…”
He shushed her, standing tall and looking every bit as big as she recalled. “I’m very pleased. In light of this revelation, I might even be willing to forgive you for running away again, especially considering you came back on your own.”
She stepped back, but he moved forward, keeping the distance constant. Recalling why she had returned, Fleur fought with her trembling lips. “Uncle, the ch-changelings, they… th-they have Celestia. You n-need to—”
“Now now,” he whispered, taking another step. “It’s okay, my pretty little niece. Whatever is troubling you, I’ll take care of it.” She tried to step back, but winced and held still when his eyes narrowed. “Don’t do anything foalish, Fleur. For the first time in your life, you’ve proven helpful. You must work to maintain that. You want to be a good girl, don’t you?”
He was reaching for her. The sight of his hoof so close to her face sent chills down her spine, and she promptly tucked her tail between her legs. “P-please, Uncle, I… I only…”
His hoof slapped against her cheek, not enough to hurt but more than enough to send a message. “Already you forget your place. For a moment I thought you might be turning into a respectable filly.”
The impact jolted her, but not as much as his words. She stared up at him, jaw hanging loose as an image came to mind. No, not an image: two images.
Fancy, who treated her with kindness and care, who only wanted what was best for her even when he didn’t know what that was.
Fine, who saw in her something more than just a scared, useless filly.
“You’re horrible.”
Sir Deeds’ eyebrows rose. “What did you say?”
Fleur stood tall and glared. “You’re horrible. Keep away from me.”
His eyes narrowed. “Don’t you dare try to talk back to me, little—”
“Shut. Up.”
Fleur relished his startled expression. “All my life, you’ve treated me like trash. I am not some doll for you to play with in bed!” She stepped back from him, head held high. “You tell me to be a respectable filly? I am. I always have been! You’re the one that needs a lesson! I’ve found friends who will treat me with respect, who value me as a pony. I am never staying with you.”
Sir Deeds blinked, momentarily stunned, but then...
“Respect?” He stepped closer, face contorting into an ugly grimace. “You think you deserve respect? You’re nothing. You’re trash I picked up because your bucking parents were too stupid to make their own way, and you’re going to be just like them. You’ll never be anything more than my whore, which is exactly how it should be!”
Fleur’s horn flashed as he approached. “You pathetic wretch. I am—”
“Don’t pretend to have a spine!” He didn’t slow down. “We both know that this is nothing but a façade. If you know what’s good for you—”
Another spark, and Fleur cast the spell. The invisibility veil formed between them just as he was reaching for her, and Sir Deeds came to an abrupt stop. He blinked, gazing through her with a lost expression.
Fleur promptly turned around, hopped backwards and bucked, her hooves smacking into his startled face.
Sir Deeds shouted and sat back, hooves to his muzzle. He gaped at her with one eye. “Wha… What did you… Did you just…”
She turned to glare at him. “You will not touch me. If you ever so much as lay a hoof on me again, I swear to Celestia I will kill you.”
Seconds passed. He gaped at her, but she only stared back with cool anger. For the first time in her life, she felt like far more than just a scared filly. Fine expected her to be strong. Fancy wanted her to be happy. Right now, she knew exactly what she had to do to achieve both, and she made sure that this vile stallion knew it too.
The attack came so fast she didn’t even realize it was coming. She found herself lying on her side, head pounding and vision swimming. Sir Deeds loomed over her, his face a mask of bared teeth and fury. All Fleur’s bravado faded in an instant as she realized exactly the situation she’d put herself in.
“You little slut! When I’m done with you—”
An earth-shaking roar split the air. The two of them looked up just in time to see something huge and red flash overhead.
A stream of fire erupted through the castle.