//------------------------------//
// Bridge Chapter 3: Back in the Saddle 
// Story: When the Everfree Burns 
// by SpiritDutch 
//------------------------------//

Seven Weeks Before the Summer Sun.

The eastern waters of Beak Bay were a mix of colors from many rivers and lands, eventually resolving into a deep blue hue. The farther east one went the less signs of civilization one saw: Fewer ships on the waves, fewer towns on the coast, and less too see from the crows nest. Past a certain point, Gilda saw no signs at all.

"Sure is lonely out here." She said,

"Yeah I thought we'd see more ships." Rainbow Dash was in a hammock she'd put up, just like the one she'd had on the Seapony's Pride. "Aren't we heading to a choke point?"

"Magistrate Mare said most of the traffic hugs the north shore of Beak Bay. It's more populated so better trading opportunities." Gilda explained. "This stretch of the Sahella coast is very arid. It's just nomads like the Bard living there."

"Even nomads have things to tade though." Dash said.

"Yes and they do it with the cities on the western coast, not up here."

"Makes sense. Cities are always in one place." Dash smiled. "Except pegasus cities. Back in ancient times Cloudsdale migrated eighty kilometers a day, never letting our enemies come close."


"I should learn cloud- crafting some time. Seems like it would be a neat skill to have." GIlda mused. "But then again Griffins don't exactly have the right magic for it, otherwise it would be more common."

"Shame." Dash said.

"Yeah, shame."


There was a tension in the lul that followed. It had been five days but they hadn't talked about what had happened when they'd brought on Do. Gilda had spent every day either in her room or in the crows nest to avoid the beige pegasus, but Dash had been hanging out suspiciously closely to the places Do lounged.


"Did you notice a huge bird landing on the deck yesterday evening?" Dash asked. " I heard the third-watch quartermaster talking about it."

"Could it have been an albatross?" Gilda queried. "They sometimes get used as messenger birds. They're not fast, but they're reliable."

"I dunno. I just heard it was big."

"If it was an albatross, it will mean Magistrate Mare is keeping in touch with somepony." Gilda mused. "I don't know what that means for us."

"Why would that mean anything for us?"

"Because she might be reeling in more details about what went on in Clawstantinople. She strikes me as that nosey type." Gilda sat up a bit. "What I don't get is why she was worried about EOC spies, but now she's mum on that front. Seems she would be more open to Do claiming she was spied on. We should keep an eye on both of them."


Dash shifted in the hammock. "Why Do?"

"Because she's odd too. We don't know what she's hiding. Aren't you curious what's in the crate down in the hold?"

"I'm curious why it made you go out of control." Dash said pointedly.

There it was. Gilda clacked her beak to let her irritation be known. "I told you I don't know. I don't even know if it was the crate or just coincidence. I felt fine after I sat down for a while."

"And that's a poor explanation. That's never happened to you before and it would be a good idea to find out why. You don't want it happening again, do you?"

Gilda looked away. "Whatever. It was probably just the heat."



The conversation was over, so Dash rolled out of the hammock and hopped off the crow's nest. She glided down to the deck and trotted to the forecastle. Do was there, scanning the horizon.
Gilda watched impassively. Hopefully the two pegasi didn't get too friendly.






A few days later


At its most south-eastern extreme Beak Bay narrowed into a narrow strait known as the Saddle. The saddle formed a narrow separation between the continent of Sahella from the sub-continent of Saddle Arabia, and connected Beak Bay to the Hars Gulf between Saddle Arabia and Zebrastan.  The Kyte would be therefore be sailing through the Saddle and emerge on Zebrastan's western coast, and skip the many-thousand kilometer journey around Sahella’s southern cape.

From the crows nest Gilda could see the mountains flanking the alluvial strait. The sandstone rises were quite formidable, their unwelcome nature underlined by a total lack of trees: The space settlements made their living off fishing and grazing the thin coastal plain.
"Hard living. Windy too." Gilda noted how the mountains funneled the air through the Saddle strait. "Reminds me of... Hmm, never mind."



Gilda could also see Rainbow Dash and Mis Do on the forecastle, chatting as they had started doing every day. Magistrate Mare and Gilda had alternated questioning Dash about their discussions, but Dash had only been willing to say that they spoke of nothing of consequence.


That had made Gilda suspicious, and perhaps for the first time, not without reason. Do's eccentricity was on display any of the rare times she emerged from her cabin: Whether she was shooting her little pistol at fish and clouds, whispering with Dash about apparently uproariously funny things, or going off alone to the cargo hold.

In truth, Gilda was a little jealous that Dash was spending time flying and talking with Do rather than her. Without Dash to amuse her at any given moment she was feeling the pangs of blood hunger more often, and the irritation that went with it. It was especially bad when she thought about the crate, which made her think if some psychosomatic response was associating curiosity with hunger. Her messed up mind had worked in stranger ways before.


So Gilda had tried engaging with Magistrate Mare, perhaps in a strange attempt to make Dash jealous, but mostly to occupy herself. But that had not gone well. Mare was stiff, sarcastic, and worse of all strictly procedural. She acted like a hard-ass captain and a humor-deaf bureaucrat both, and it drove Gilda nuts.

So Gilda lounged in the crow's nest.
"Oh buck this." She rolled onto her stomach and pushed herself up. "It's too boring up here. Maybe Mare will let me borrow a book or something.



The griffin languidly unfurled her wings and glided down to the aft of the ship. She was stopped by a joyous cry behind her.

“Hey G!” Dash galloped over from the forecastle. Past her, Gidla could see Mis Do occasionally glancing their direction. 

“Hey.” Gilda ventured. “You uh… need something?”

“Need something? Psh, nah!” Dash chuckled. “Unless I need you to take that stick out of your plot! Bwaaah ha ha ha!” She burst out laughing, sending flecks of spittle flying.

“Funny.” Gilda deadpanned. “Anything else?”

Dash’s laughter died down, and her joviality was smothered by the look of irritation impatience her friend was giving her. “I just...” She looked back towards Do. “Listen, Do wanted to let you know there were no hard feelings, incase you’re avoiding her.”

“Then why doesn’t she come down here and say so herself?” GIlda challenged. “Would it tarnish her image if she socialized with a griffin?

Dash sighed. “G, you know that’s not fair. She’s no bigot. She talked about how she spent months among the sahellan pony tribes.”

“Operating word there is pony.” Gilda sat on her haunches and crossed her taloned forelegs defensively. “Whatever you two got going on, I don’t want. Got it? I'm fine not being a part of her life.”

“Got it. Talk later huh?” Dash hung her head, letting her friend get away.

"Probably. It's a small ship."
Gilda turned away and entered the hall to the cabins, slamming the door behind her. She stared at the far wall while she tried to collect her thoughts before continuing. She didn’t want to hurt Dash’s feelings, and socializing with Do would be a distraction from other things buzzing in her head. Still, Gilda had a bad feeling about the beige pegasus adventurer, and certainly didn’t want any interaction herself.

She was about to pass into her cabin when she heard a whistle from the room next door. “A moment of your time, Mis Gilda.”

"Not in the mood." Gilda shouted back.

"Don't care. Get in here."

Gilda stifled a groan and ducked into Magistrate Mare’s office. “Yeah?” She replied testily.

“Take a seat please.” Magistrate was working through a pile of paperwork, progress reports, pay filings, and correspondence that had just come in on EOC messenger albatross from the Roan Branch. Her makeshift workstation lacked a second chair but there was a small lip on the sill that Gilda found a perch on. “How are you feeling?”

“A bit hungry.” Gilda shrugged.

“Have you been keeping an eye on things?” 

“As much as usual.” Gilda watched the smooth blue water out of the window.

“Or maybe more.” Mare mused. “Without Mis Dash talking up half your view, that is.”

“What are you getting at.” Gilda clenched her claw in anger. She was just irritated enough to hit the magistrate for that insult, but she restrained herself.

“I just want to talk to candidly for a while. Holding oneself back from impropriety all the time can ruin a pony’s conversational sense. And just maybe, I know everypony feels a little lonely from time to time.” Mare glanced up from her work, and winked. “Or everygriffin.”


“Are you coming onto me?” Gilda was caught off guard. “Have you been drinking?”

“Mis Gilda, that is an indecent thing to accuse your superior of.” Mare snorted, leaning back in her chair. “But no, the ship’s surgeon needs the rest of the alcohol for medical emergencies. This proposal is given lucidly.”

“We’re speaking candidly then?” Gilda asked. Mare had never acted so casually before, so maybe she was actually looking for friendly conversation.

“Honestly too, I hope.” The magistrate cracked a smile.

“Why? Why would you want to talk to me?” Gilda asked rhetorically. “Is is because you’ve estranged yourself to the sailors with your abuse? Am I your last choice?”

The magistrate paused in thought. “For a griffin, you seem unusually self-deprecating. Have you done something you’re not proud of?”

“No!” Gilda blustered. “I’m a mare of no regrets!”

“Mare?” The magistrate's tone lifted in curiosity. “Tell me, how long have you lived among ponies, Mis Gilda?”


Gilda was very glad for the digression. “Since I was old enough to fly, though I’d hesitate to call what I did living. I drifted until I met Dash.”

“What did you do before you drifted? It's not hard to tell you had an excellent education.”

“I don’t really want to talk about it.” Gilda said evasively.

“Ahh, that would be a topic too sharp and, mmm, biting, even in intimate quarters.” Mare shook her head sadly, though she cracked a sly smile. “And when I am in such a talkative mood too. It would be a shame if I had to compel you.”

“What was that?” Gilda wasn’t sure she’d heard right.

“Oh? Nevermind.” Mare paused, as if in thought. “Perhaps you’d be more comfortable if I contributed first.”

“I’m pretty sure I don’t want to share, but you can go ahead if that’s what you want.” Gilda cautiously agreed.


“Ponies love to talk about themselves. I should think you would have picked up on that.” Mare shuffled her completed work to the side and started on the next set. “I was born on a farm in the south of Equestria, near one of the villages on the Dnieghper. Ponyville, it’s called.”

“Ponyville. Nice. By comparison the name Mare isn't so startlingly truistic.”

“My parents weren’t the most creative. Very nice though, typical country folks. Shame I had to leave them. I moved to Filly Delphia for an education, a most lively place that produces productive ponies. The city university produces the finest administrators in the Empire. I was valedictorian in my graduating year.” Mare half-boasted. “I was a hot commodity, and it went to my head. The EOC offered me the vice-directorship of south-Sahella branch not thirty seconds after I gave my speech. I told them it was full director or nothing.”

“Let me guess. They compromised and made you magistrate?” Gilda rolled her eyes.

“Um, no. They withdrew all their offers and told me I could start at the bottom like everypony else.” Mare smiled in sympathetic embarrassment of her younger self. “I learned an important lesson in humiliation and the value of hard work.”

“Which you’re now going to convey to me.”

“Not quite. I was going to tell you how, through perseverance and the burning drive that only wounded pride can give, I ruthlessly blackmailed the ponies who’d jipped me. I was hastily appointed magistrate and shipped overseas. They couldn’t keep me anywhere near Equestria anymore with how much dirt I had on file. The point is, I recognize how something as flighty as words can translate into real power.”

“I didn’t take you for the type of pony to stoop to blackmail. I’m not sure if that makes me like you worse, or better.” Gilda snickered. “But it doesn’t make for a good bedtime story moral.”


“Why are you pecking at my story for a moral, Mis Gilda?” Mare’s smile faded.

“I’m not, I just…” Gilda looked back to the ocean. “Sometimes I like hearing about other people lives, especially when they’re, you know, good. I like history, because the creatures of the past are made out to be so noble and just. Chivalry, you know."

"What history have you been reading?" Mare chortled.

"Histories about good kings and queens doing what's right." Gilda said. "Hell if I don't know morality is sometimes a luxury. Luxuries have a cost. Therefore you'd think those with power and money nowadays, the traders... " She sighed. “I don’t know what I was hoping. Hrmph. I sound like a real retard trying to explain myself.”


“Don't be so hard on yourself. It's not that hard to puzzle your reasoning! You want to believe success and goodness can go hoof-in-hoof.” Mare flashed a brief, almost lecherous grin. “It’s a common thing with the ones like us. We hope upon hope that at some point, we can come back from what we’ve done. I don’t see we two coming to the light, but then again, one of us is farther than the other. We have our villain's pair: Blackmail,” She pointed to herself. “and Murder.” She pointed at Gilda.



Gilda dug her talon into the wood slightly. So the nosy bureaucrat had uncovered her secret! Or maybe Dash fessed up, or Do, or something else. She refused to face the magistrate. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She said, trying to muddy the tension out of her voice.

“Don’t you? I thought you would understand what has me so happy.” Mare rolled and put away her scrolls. “We all have vices, Mis Gilda. But sinners have to be discreet, and not get caught up. Only truly disgusting creatures define themselves by their vices. You're not one of those disgusting creatures, Mis Gilda. You're a strange one, but I believe you have a good heart. That's why I'm offering to protect you from your shadow, for a price."

Blackmail. Of course. Gilda entertained the idea of ripping apart the bureaucrat and flying for the coast. "Listen here you smug bint-"



A sound from the hallway cut through the threat, the cheery laughter of Dash and Do. The Magistrate gave Gilda a stern but sly look. “How good are you at keeping quiet, Mis Gilda?

“I uh-”

The door was pushed open. Before Mis Do set a second hoof inside, Magistrate Mare had pushed away from her chair and intercepted her.

“They must not knock in among the Sahellan tribes you lived amongst. It's very rude to barge in!” Mare blocked Do’s view of the inside of the study.

“No, they blow great ivory horns every time they enter or leave their tents.” Do retorted. “May I come in?”

“I... don’t see why not.” Mare grumbled, she looked back over her shoulder to see Gilda’s tail disappearing under the desk. She backed away from the door and returned to her seat. Gilda’s tail tickled her legs as it flicked. “Do you need something, Mis Do?”

Do lazily cantered to the same windowsill Gilda had lain on looked out at the blue waters of Beak Bay. “I thought I should let you know that we need to moor at Stirrup Port.”

"Stirrup? What the hell for?! Don't you want to get to Chitin?" Mare stamped her hoof. A muffled curse came from beneath the table, which she hastily covered with a cough; Griffins’ tails are more sensitive than ponies’.


"I couldn't tell you earlier, and I'm sorry about that. There are spies everywhere." Do looked over her shoulder to the open door, as if there might be a spy there at that very moment. "There is another piece of cargo of great importance to my expedition, a crate to identical dimensions to the one I came aboard with. It might be waiting for us in Stirrup."

Mare nearly snapped her quill hearing that. "MIGHT BE?! And YOU expect me to-" She took a deep breath. " You're not stupid. You're know you're putting me in a difficult position. Are you sure about this?"

"You want me to repeat myself?" Do smirked smugly.


Mare rubbed at her eye therapeutically. "No I heard you. It's within your rights as a client of the EOC to go behind my back like this, but let it be known that I strongly object to this deception."

"Duly noted, and I’m glad you understand." Do feigned apology. “I wouldn't do this unless I really did fear the people chasing me.”

"And you do not tell me who they are despite of, or because of this fear?" Mare asked rhetorically. "Very well Mis Do. It's your money."

Do flashed a lopsided grin. "Not yet, it isn't."  She let herself out, laughing into the air.

"What does that mean? Hey!" Mare yelled after her. "I will find out what you’re hiding from me! Eventually!" But Do was laughing to hard to hear her.



"The gall..." Mare muttered. "That filly is starting to upset me. I don't like having secrets kept from me."

Gilda poked her head out from under the desk. "It's not the flagrant disrespect she's showing you? If somepony acted that way to me I'd tear their throat out." She cocked her head. "In fact that's what I did to a stallion just last month."

"Spare me. I'm not suddenly your therapist." Mare pulled back from the desk and began pacing the room. "Now that I know your secret you're like a solved game: A bore. With Do however, her client privileges prove tricky..."

"Jeez you're rude." Gilda crawled from the hiding spot and stretched her wings. "You'll find I'm a lot more complex than you think, and you're a lot less smart than you think you are."

That prod nettled Mare just right. "Oh really?" She growled, stopping dead in her tracks."

"It made less sense before you told me about your blackmail of the EOC. Seems now the EOC is getting you back." Gilda said. "Why would Do estrange you unless she didn't trust you, and why wouldn't she trust you unless somepony told her something. Maybe you should start wondering why you were given this expedition, Magistrate."

"Those bastards...  They must be out of their minds if they think they can do this to me." Mare turned contemplative.



Gilda retook her windowsill perch. “Are we still being candid? Because I'd tell you I want to know what's in that crate. Then we can see if it matches the manifest the EOC gave you."

Mare looked up. "The EOC didn't give me a manifest. Not a detailed one anyhow. The dimensions they provided were also speculative."

Gilda blinked. "They didn't know what she was bringing aboard either.

Mare trotted back to her desk and sunk in her chair. "So...  We will have to operate on the assumption nopony has told anypony else the truth, and they all have something to hide. Do may be a spy, or chased by spies, who knows.  The EOC may be setting us up or sending us purposefully into danger."

"That's a lot of talk of 'we' and 'us' from a mare who was threatening to blackmail me three minutes ago." Gilda clacked her beak.

Mare smiled. "I know you don't have any money, so what else am I supposed to ask for?"

“I go above and beyond my job as a mercenary, and we clear the slate.” Gilda proposed. “When we get to Stirrup, I dig up what Do is hiding. I find that second crate and familiarize myself with its contents. That will go a long way towards find Do out."

"Perhaps." Mare tapped her chin with her hoof. "Your, ahem, indiscretions will be difficult to forget Mis GIlda, but I'll make an honest effort if you pilot us out of this confusing quandary."

Gilda felt her heart soar. From in the pit to on top in no time at all! "And I want you to destroy whatever records you used. Deal?”

“Deal.” Mare offered her hoof, and Gilda shook it curtly. “This could work, Mis Gilda. Come out successful and out we will dig deeper. We can wring the bastards!”


“Stop using that 'we'. I just finding that crate. This is a one-time thing.” Gilda said firmly. “I'm hired to be a mercenary not a special investigator or whatever.”

“Simply said, Mis Gilda, I hold leverage over you at this moment. Even if you hold up your end, it may take longer than forecasted to hold up my end. If that happens to be the case, then you might try doing more favors to hurry the process along. Now…”
Mare leaned past Gilda, scooping up a few documents. “If you'll excuse me, I have to send this off and tell the helmspony of our brief stop by Stirrup. Good day."


Gilda watched her leave, and briefly considered trashing the study in a violent and temperamental outburst of frustration. But she decided instead to sigh deeply, and complete her journey to her cabin. She restrained the urge to scream, instead throwing herself into her bunk. She lay there, nursing an impotent anger.

Damn that Mare, she seethed. Was there no privacy in the world anymore? She would play along, for the other choice was to let her secret get out and ruin her forever. Or kill Mare.

She drifted off, and began thinking about grand riches and treasures of Chitin, and about Dash. Dash was a good friend, she sleepily confirmed to herself. Dash would never tell. If only she could have more Dash. 








Reqheh Besurje, or Stirrup in the equestrian tongue, was the largest of the trading ports clinging to the thin coastal plain of the Saddle. The yellow sandstone mountains were topped with yellowed homes of the moderately wealthy, which petered out the closer to the water one got. The wood and reed homes and warehouses that that replaced them on the waterfront spilled over into the harbor, where they floated at the mercy of the tides.

Stirrup had been a thriving city in previous eras, monopolizing trade through the Saddle between from Griffany and Sahella to Maredia, Zebrastan, and Chitin. The rise of the two largest transoceanic trading companies, the Griffin Oceanic Company and the Equestrian Charter Company, had created routes that bypassed the chokehold Stirrup had over the Saddle Strait. Without the constant influx of money it was used to, Stirrup decayed under the weight of decadence and vagrancy. Now it was only notable for the refugees passing in both directions, fleeing to Griffany from Maredia, or to Saddle Arabia from Sahella.


Gilda emerged from the cabins just in time to hear the end of an argument between Magistrate Mare and Mis Do.  The Flyer Kyte laid anchor halfway into the broad strait, and Do was not happy about that.

"No and no again, ma'am. I'm not taking the ship any closer. For one the wind becomes screwy close to the coastal mountains and I don't want us driven into shoals. There's no chance the natives are going to give us a pilot, seeing as they hate the EOC." Mare said, half-heartedly feigning contriteness. "You will have to go on your own."

Do stared for a while, but at last shrugged. "Ah well. I'm no stranger to doing things by myself. Only, by crate is too heavy to bring back by myself."

"We have a wench. If you find some good ponies to help you load it on a dinghy, we can life it aboard." Mare said.

"All planned out." Do twisted her nose. "I'll go in a few minutes."

"I'll come!" Rainbow Dash, back from an aerial patrol, landed right beside the two mares. "If I'd be of some help, I mean."

"Of course you'd be of some help, Dash." Do nodded. "Like the saying goes two pegasi is always better than one."



"are always better" Gilda corrected under her breath. She waited for Do to wander off to pursue some preparation to move out of the shadows and approach Dash.


“Hey.” Gilda ventured.

“Hey G.” Dash smiled earnestly. “Are you coming with us to Stirrup. Probably not huh, since been avoiding Daring like the feather flu.”

Daring, Daring Do. The beige pegsus's name was revealed. "Do I have a reason to talk to her? I won't lie, you're right I'm avoiding her. I'm just up here for some fresh air." She smiled. "And to talk to you. Because I could say you've been avoiding me!"

“Aww. I thought you hated me for some reason.” Dash smiled back.

"I've been annoyed, but never hate." Gilda promised. "I know you too well to ever, ever hate you."


Dash blinked. "Heavy stuff, G. It's too early for that kind of talk."

"Heh, sorry..." Gilda's grin turned sheepish. "I guess I've been letting my mind take me places. Not always a good thing huh." She cleared her throat. "If, um, Mid Do is around I'd like to talk with her a second. Like you said the other day, if she's not going to hold my, umm, transgressions against me, we can be friendly."


“Thats the spirit!” Dash cheered. “I’ll go get her! If you come with us there'll be plenty of time to chat.”

“Sounds good.” Gilda agreed, so Rainbow jaunted back into the cabins in search of Daring Do.



Magistrate Mare slinked out from behind the mast. “Are you planning something, Mis Gilda?" She asked darkly.

"Snooping as usual, I see." Gilda scowled. "For your information I am just trying to make my friend happy."


"Ahh! Not a bad idea." Mare nodded. "f things go sour, you make sure Mis Dash is on our side.”

“There you go, getting ahead of yourself again.” Gilda smoothed her crest back to calm her rising anxiety. She didn’t like juggling lies, especially to Rainbow. They may have had their disagreements, but the cornerstone of their friendship was their honesty with each other. “How about you let me do this task to completion before you start riding my tail?”

"Hmm, how about no."

"How about shove off then." Gilda hissed. "You're stressing me out. It might not come naturally to you but I'm asking you to trust me to do this my way."

Mare's nose wrinkled, but she relented. “Fine then. Don’t forget, that the quicker you satisfy me, the more quickly I may forget.” Mare’s ear swiveled to approaching voices. She trotted away to the forecastle.



“Good morning Miss Gilda! I hear you’re dropping the tough girl act.” Gilda heard Do call to her. That immediately set her fur on end. The swaggering pegasus made Rainbow look like a paragon of modesty. The way Dash acted around Do, like a demure filly, having eyes only for her newfound idle, infuriated Gilda.

“How am I supposed to respond to an accusation like that?” GIlda glared, but she softened it to a forced smile. “I'm just offering to join you for this little outing.”

“Very good!” Do cantered to the side of the ship and vaulted over into the partly-lowered dingy. “What are you waiting for? Let’s go girlies!”

“Right behind you!” Dash jubilantly flapped her way there. “Come on, G!”

“Yeah, I'll sit in the mid-” Gilda took a step forward.


But Do stepped between them, interjecting. “You know, I think someone should scout ahead.”

"What?"

“You know, fly on over to the dock and check things out. Any takers? Gilda?” Do quirked her brow. "Wouldn't you rather fly than row?"

“Uh” Gilda stammered. “I guess…”

“That’s the spirit.” Do’s cheery praise rang in Gilda’s ears as condescension. The griffin dug her claws into the wooden deck angrily. Without another word, she launched herself skyward, raising a cloud of splinters behind her.




Before she realized it, she was high in the air, nearing the wispy cirrus clouds kept back from the mountains by the air currents.
Behind her to the west, she could see nothing but the arid plain of Sahella, separated from the Mountains of Eastern Saddle Arabia by the strait. Though she could not see over the sandstone mountains ahead of her to the east, Gilda knew that the Arabians’ Desert occupied the inland. There were thousands of kilometers of open land, where nobody could find her.
"What am I thinking..." She muttered into the wind. "How will I be able to stand myself if I let an uppity featherhead drive me off. I've eaten ponies for less."


How fleeting her interaction with Rainbow had been. Gilda yelled angry curses at the cloudsas she glided down to Stirrup.
She was convinced that Daring Do was the one who told Magistrate Mare. They would keep her in a state of perpetual blackmail, compelling her to do their dirty work.
They would pay in the worst way Gilda knew. Ideas of evil from cloudy memories swirled in her head. Spurred on by the wind, Gilda thought of another windy place she once lived, and all the gloriously hideous things done there. Torture, humiliation, mutilation, and of course the raucous maws and claws of devouring.


Gilda was so caught up in her revenge fantasy, she almost didn’t realize that she was over the city. To say that buisness was slow would have been giving the rotting line of docks too much credit. There were many craft of varying sizes, but there was a total air of inactivity, as though the entire harbor was sleeping despite it being the middle of the day. In fact, Gilda only saw a dozen ponies, and griffins, sitting back in abject surrender to the noontime heat. There was no movement.
"Are they all...  nah."



The meeting point was not immediately obvious, but with how few living creatures could be seen it was unmissable. Gilda’s eagle eyes picked out a pony about her size leaning against a crate at the end of one of the longer jetties. The crate had the exact same dimensions as the one in the Flyer Kyte's hold, though made of pale eastern wood rather than ruddy Sahellan wood.  Gilda beelined for the duo, crate and pony.

The stallion waited until Gilda landed to bother moving. He was an earth pony, sporting a white coat with grey discolorations that matched his mane and tail. His accent reminded Gilda of the drawn out twang of the mountain minotaurs of eastern Griffany. “You are from that ship out there, yes? Is Daring Do with you?”

Gilda smoothed back the feathers that had been disrupted during her frantic flight. “Mis Do is on her way right now. You’re the caretaker of this little box?”

“Notta small box, and I’m notta care taker. So, that’s no to both questions. My name is Hyle, the Philosophizer.” The pony bowed deeply.

“Pleased to meet you Hyle, I’m Gilda.” Gilda offered her talon in greeting, but the earth pony ignored it. “Uh, okay…  You’re a philosopher?

“Of a sort. I serve in the court of Gausytages, Shay of Hars.” Hyle explained.   “I act as representative on his behalf, to deliver this cargo to Mis Do.”

Gilda assumed that a ‘shay’ was a kind of ruler. Like she had with the Andoulu chieftain, Daring Do was working with the natives to get her cargo. “Cool, cool. Like I said she’s on her way.”


“Yes, yes, you did say.” Hyle nodded. “Does she bring more others, yes?”

“Just Dash, erm, her bodyguard.” Gilda was getting on odd vibe from the white earth pony. “Will we need more? How heavy is the box?”

“Not heavy, yes! Me and my partner could carry it, no problem at all.” Hyle laughed.


Gilda laughed along with him, but as she did so she was looking for any signs of trouble. Something wasn’t right; She could feel it.  “So if you’re a philosopher for some bigshot lord, why are you delivering a box?” Gilda arched a brow. “Does the Shay often send you with his parcels?”


“No, yes? Difficult to explain.” Hyle bit his lip. “It is not from him. It is not his, no, not his at all!”

“It’s not a stolen heirloom, is it? Or a priceless royal pet? A Hars treasure? Is the box itself the treasure? What’s in it?” Gilda grinned, preying on the pony’s nervousness to provoke their natural reaction to predators. “Comeon, tell me! What’s in the box?”

“It is not for you to know. Now where is Do?” Hyle was sweating, eyes darting around to avoid Gilda’s gaze. "Oh this is not easy. This is not an easy message and I will not say it twice."


“Let me be clearer buddy. You're going to tell me right now what's in that box, or Do's never going to know you existed!” GIlda suddenly roared, flaring her wings out.

“EeeEE! Please! This is not easy for me either! I, err, well, I will tell you.” Hyle stuttered, backing away. He brought a handkerchief up to dap the sweat off his forehead. “Yes, yes, I will tell you…”




The wiz of the bullet past Gilda’s ear was followed milliseconds later by the crack of the gun that'd shot it echoing down the docks.

“Son of a whore!” Gilda dove behind a nearby stack of barrels, and Hyle did the same behind the coffin-sized crate. “Gods damn it, I knew something was fishy!”


Hyle was weeping, covering his head with his hooves as if it could protect him from a bullet.

“Come on, you flake! Pull yourself together! Is this a set-up or are we ambushed? Who's attacking us?” Gilda yelled.

“W- W- Why w- would I know?” Hyle sobbed. “Yes?”


Gilda clearly saw the earth pony didn't have the mental fortitude to be bait for an ambush. “Okay then, tell me where there’ll likely to be. You’ve been in this city longer than I have.” She clacked her beak in extreme agitation. Being shot at was never fun, not made any better by having a whining baby by her side. What was worse, the docks were too exposed to make a run for it. As soon as she left the cover of the barrels she’d be a target.

"I don't know!"

“Then here’s what I have to do. I’m going to peek around and see where the shooter is.” Gilda explained to Hyle, though it was unclear if he was listening.

She pressed herself against the ground, and steeled herself for the gun’s retort. She leaned out, scanned the roofs and alleys quickly, and ducked back.

“Nothing.” She hissed. The docks transitioned into clustered sandstone houses abruptly, and no sign of life could been see anywhere. Though she wasn't dwelling on it Gilda was starting to notice Stirrup was nearly abandoned. “Okay, Hyle, I’m coming over to you.”

“I will look out for you then.” Hyle, who seemed to have composed again, pulled out his handkerchief again. He held it tightly to his forehead as he peered up over the edge of the crate.

“Not really necessary, but okay.” Gilda took a deep breath, danced in place for a moment to wind herself up, and jumped from her spot.

The bullet tore apart the dock under her, sending up a cloud of splinters. Gilda collided with Hyle, his solid earth pony body arresting her momentum.

“Whew. That bastard sure is quick on the trigger.” Gilda gripped, pulling herself off the philosopher. “Or maybe he’s been scoping this place out for a while.”

“Mayhaps if we, say, charge him, he will panic and miss. Yes...” Hyle suggested.


“Without knowing his roost? That’d be bloody suicide. But hey, if you want to run out into the open, that’s fine by me.” Gilda was about to say more, but she stopped herself. The sniper was totally ignoring Hyle so far. That was odd...
“He’s sure got it out for me.” She said warily, watching Hyle out of the corner of her eye. “If somebody doesn’t want Do to get what in the box, they're giving themselves away shooting at me.”

“You are the, well, larger target, yes.” Hyle wrung his handkerchief nervously.



They waited for a few moments. The wind was starting to pick up. Gilda holding her claw against the side of the crate, formulated her plan.

“You know, I think your idea to rush him has merit.” Gilda smiled. “I’ll even go first.”

“Good, yes.” Hyle dabbed at his cheek. “Just give me a moment to prepare before-”

Gilda grabbed the earth pony by the neck and tossed him over the box, between her and the city. He'd not even hit the ground when the sniper’s shot punched through his foreleg, missing Gilda’s head by a hair’s breadth.


“AAAAAHH! YOU GRIFFIN PSOL! AAAAHH!” The philosopher screamed, rolling on the dock and holding his limp leg in disbelief. He tried to get to his hooves.

“OH! Damn!” Gilda jumped back. She’d been fairly sure Hyle was a rat, but he wasn’t much of anything besides dead now.

Her surprise was cut short by a second shot that caught Hyle square in the chest. He fell backwards limply, crashing right through the crate. Gilda saw a glint of something shiny from a rooftop partway up the mountain slope.

“Gotcha bitch!” She vaulted over Hyle’s body and dashed up the dock. Twelve seconds later, the interval between the two shots that’s hit Hyle, she sprung into the air, completely throwing off the next shot that bit into the dock below her.

Her speed in the air far exceeded that on the ground. She saw the glint of metal again and swooped up.  She could clearly see the sniper now, jumping between the flat roofs in an effort to get away. It looked like another earth pony in a short cape, clutching a long-barreled musket in the crook of his foreleg.

The wind picked up even more, racing into Stirrup and the mountains from the strait. The sudden gusts only propelled Gilda faster, and within seconds she was above the fleeing sniper.

She dove at the him, talons and claws bared. But as her shadow fell across the sprinting pony, he released the clasp of his cape. Gilda swerved to avoid the fabric cape as it was blown up in the breeze, but lost her aerodynamic balance as the wind gusted to absurd strength. She tumbled down into the sandstone alleyways, coming to rest on her back in the dirt. She lay there for a moment listening the shriek of wind whistling overhead.

“Did a bucking monsoon roll into town?” She picked herself back up. The sky was still clear but the wind was like a an angry demon.



A cry of panic sounded down the alley. Gilda turned and saw none other than the sniper pony falling from the adjacent roof, apparently as helpless in the wind as Gilda was. He bounced off an awning and landed a dozen meters down the alley.

“AH HA!” GIlda pounced while he was still recovering, batting the long musket out of his hooves and pressing him into the dirty cobble. “What now bucker!”

The earth pony was not passive. He used his armored hoof to bat Gilda claw away as he scooted back. His eyes darted around for his gun until he saw it was much closer to Gilda than him.
"Aye, not bad bird, not bad." He had a singsong, north-islander twang. He tugged a knife from his bandoleer. "I'll tell ya, this'll be the easy part for ya. It's been a day since one got this close and I'm out of practice." He took the knife in his mouth and crouched low.

The stallion leaped forward and slashed the air. Gilda ducked under and attempted a leg sweep, but she was no acrobat, and she tripped over herself and landed on her back. The earth pony stallion slashed at her again but Gilda rolled just enough that the blade bounced of her vest at the shoulder clasp. Now that he was close Gilda socked him in the jaw to send the knife the way of the gun, then used her hindleg to knee him in the groin. The stallion was quicker than she expected though and jumped backward, so he only took the knee in the chest. Still it winded him, and that gave Gilda the moment to hop up.

"The only reason you still have your lower jaw is because I need answers." Gilda pointed a razor sharp talon at him. "Start explaining yourself!"

"When somepony's paid to make silence, make a more convincing offer." The stallion nursed his cheek where she'd struck him. "Like they say back home: Show some steel if ya want my breath."

He took the initiative again, apparently emboldened by Gilda's show of weakness of not killing him. He struck out with a hoof and Gilda dodged appropriately, but the motion also carried him back to his knife. Scooping it up he charged at her.
Gilda took a slow breath. Things seemed to slow down.
She was a big creature in close confines. There should have been no getting past her but the little northerner was proving worth his salt. She couldn't exploit her flight because of the outrageous winds above them. And that knife...

She let out the breath. The sniper was barreling down at her with the knife in his maw. She swung wide with the flat of her claw, driving her palm into the blade to rip it from him mouth and throw him past her like a bull after a matador. He stumbled, landing on his stomach right by his gun.
Gilda ripped the knife out of her claw in a spray of blood then jumped after the pony. She seized him by the shoulder and flipped him against the alley wall, then dragged him onto his back. While he was still disoriented she stomped on his right hindleg with all her weight, ensuring he wouldn't be kicking her off again.

"How's this for an offer!" She crowed triumphantly. With time to examine him she found the sniper was a rose colored little stallion with a new-growth green mane. He refused to speak, so Gilda dug her talons into his skin until he yelped. “Come off it, bud. Don’t think I won’t tear you apart, so start explaining yourself!”

“Explain myself? Heh!” The sniper snickered. “Foal in daycare, I am?”

“Buckin smartass, huh?” GIlda jerked his up and slammed him back down into the ground, then twice more. “Who sent you?”


The sniper was grimacing from the pain, but still managed a smirk. “Wasn’t sent nowhere, was I.  Was here first, m’lady.”

“And now, you aren’t going anywhere.” Gilda slashed at his fore leg with an open talon, cutting five lacerations across it’s length. “Now sir, what do you know?!” She kicked both his wounded legs.

“EERG! You right twit! Who pissed in your breakfast?” The sniper bit his lip hard enough to make it bleed. “Gunna skin me are ya?"

"Don't tempt me, mudpony." Gilda chortled darkly.

"Piss." The earth pony swore. He propped himself up with his undamage foreleg. "I’m just the gun, yaknow? I'll flip I swear. Just let me live. It was that ass Hyle and that grave-robber Do that broke from the script!”

“Ah ha! Now we're getting somewhere.” GIlda said, circling around to where she’d thrown the gun.

“You saw the box’s empty. But it wasn't always. Me’n Hyle had the real sarcophagus, and we were ready eager to sell it to Do. Then last week, these hippogryphs rollin inna town, wreck the docks, cart off with most everypony in town! Everybody’s left were workin with ‘em, co-operating. Didn’t wanna die.”

“Hippogryphs?” Gilda blinked in confusion. Hyppogryphs could be cruel creatures, but they had never been known to do something as brutal as enslave entire towns.  “Were they pirates?”



“Nah, worse. Inquisitors. Scary lookin mothers with no mercy bout them. They were here to fetch the sarcophagus, least that’s their claim to everypony. She said to Hyle and I that she’d forgive if we’d tempt Do in with the empty box then blast her. Their leader, she was, a damn big gryph witha glass eye that’s got a mind of it’s own.” The sniper shuddered, chilled by the very memory of the mare. “But when Hyle left, she told me to off’m and let Do go. That'd scare Do off ever tryin ta get her hooves on another sarcophagus.”

“A most fascinating tale.” Gilda scratched her chin. "Tell me about the sarcophagus."

The earth pony shrugged weakly. "Honest nothin. Hyle did the dealin, I was the muscle. We secret trifles betwixt Stirrup and Maredia all the time. Little things mostly. Except this time the Gausytages the Shay of Hars and some secret hyppogryph contacts were involved. I swear I dunno anythin about them, that was pure Hyle. The inquisitor mighta put me down if I had known."

"Well my good pony, I appreciate your honesty, even if it did have to be drawn out of you." Gilda had a lot to think about. A secret sarcophagus, conspiracy, hippogryphs, and their religious enforcers the Inquisitors to boot. The sniper before her just a jackass caught in the wrong place at the wrong moment.  
She picked up the long musket and admired it’s fine craftsponyship. Only it wasn’t quite musket, not any kind of firearm she’d ever seen. As far as she could tell, the breach was hinged, allowing for quick reloading.  “I’ll tell you what…  How about I take this, and we forget this ever happened.”

“Not inna position to complain now am I?” The sniper looked like she's struck him again. His eyes followed the gun as Gilda inspected it. “My life’s worth about half that gun. Please take care of her.”

"Oh I will, Sir." Gilda, now that had calmed down, realized she should do something about her stabbed-through claw. She inspected it, but it wasn't bleeding at all, nor did it really hurt, yet she could articulate it perfectly. Lucky the stab hadn't severed any tendons. She tore a scrap off the sniper's cape and wrapped it around the cut just in case.  "And the name?"

"Pip." The sniper tipped a nonexistent hat, smiling sadly.

"No the gun."

"What kind of silly eejit names their gun. To here she was My Gun. Now, she's Your Gun." Pip scoffed. "If yer ever round Trottingham way ask for me. I'd love ta see you again and pay this back. Bring her, and mayhapse her name will change again."

"I've never met an pony like you Pip. Next time will be even more fun. Good luck with finding help before you bleed out. Ta ta now.” Gilda took to the sky, immensely pleased with the outcome of the day’s events. Further boosting her spirits, the freak wind had died away altogether.



She intercepted Dash and Do in the dingy just as they were arriving in the outer harbor, several piers over from where the smashed crate and Hyle’s body were still laying.

“Heya girls, I’ve got bad news.” Gilda informed. “I looked everywhere. The locals say your contact skipped town about a week ago, when some guys they called 'Inquisitors' came looking for him. They wouldn't tell me much else.”

Do stared vacantly into the sky for several long moments. “Huh. Inquisitors? That’s too bad.” She said carefully. Judging by her expression part of her disappointment was that Gilda had picked off part of her secret.  “I guess this stop was pointless. Magistrate Mare is never going to let me hear the end of it.”

“Not going to have a look for yourself?" Gilda queried.

"No. I have to go back to the ship. I have some things to think about." Do said. "Dash, you can go ahead and I'll row back myself."

"No I'll stay and help." Dash said, she turned to Gilda. "Meet you back on the ship then G.  Hey..." She squinted. "Is that a gun on your back?"

"Maybe?" Gilda grinned. "You two go on ahead, and I’ll catch up. I want to explore the local flavor a it more."
With that she took off for the highest parts of Stirrup, leaving Do and Dash to row back to the Kyte.



Stirrup was already a ghost town. Nopony would be suspicious if Hyle’s body wasn’t found, nor the few stragglers the gryphs had left behind. More corpses in a graveyard city.