//------------------------------// // 28. Favor for a Favor // Story: Love, Sugar, and Sails // by DSNesmith //------------------------------// The entourage of bizarre hybrids rose from the depths in a staggered line. Rye blinked as the blackness filled minute by minute with the reddish-purple light of the setting sun far above. They hadn’t even been down in that abyss for a full day, he mused. Part of that was due to the return trip’s speed; without needing to worry about any attacks from the monstrous Old Phoenixians, the group had made excellent time on a beeline toward the upper city and seapony territory. As on the journey down, Rye had his forelegs wrapped around Beriac’s neck. The seapony had been first startled, then horrified, then delighted by the reappearance of Rye and Tyria with a small parade of mutated rescuees behind them. After calming Beriac’s initial terrified reaction to the cavalcade of chimeras, Rye had explained the situation. Beriac had agreed to lead them all home gratifyingly quickly. Hopefully, the ponies above would be as accepting of the changes made to their family members. Still, as they approached the outskirts of the city and the bright colors of the coral swam lazily into view, Rye was fidgeting enough to earn a few annoyed over-the-shoulder looks from his seapony chauffeur. He’d had a lifetime to deal with his physical abnormalities, to become accustomed to all the looks of curiosity or repulsion those who were different always attracted. These ponies had had these mutations thrust upon them in the primes of their lives, against their wills, and now they were about to face their families with little warning. Several scenarios had been running through Rye’s mind on the way up, few of them pleasant. There’s nothing more Tyria or I can do, he thought sadly. The seaponies will have to reclaim their lives on their own. The group slowed as they entered the city limits. Rye spotted a yellow-gray fin weaving amongst the coral. If the sharks were here, the seaponies could not be far. Ahead, he saw them. Some scout must have seen them approaching from the distance and come swimming back with the news that their lost ones were returning, for it seemed the entire population of New Phoenixia had turned out to greet them. There were several dozens of them, seaponies of both genders and all ages, each with faces filled with hope. Beriac and the rescuees came to a stop in a rough line opposite the larger gathering of seaponies. The two groups paused, deathly silent in the cool water. Rye was uncomfortably reminded of a pair of armies facing off before the joining of battle. The joy in the seaponies’ faces was rapidly turning to dismay and horror. One mare tightened her hooves around her foal, pulling the confused little pony closer to her breast. Another unconsciously recoiled, her head shaking with disbelief. Rye felt a cold lump in his stomach. He wanted to speak, to yell, to shout your lost ponies have returned! They’re still the ones you love! But the airstar blocked his mouth, and no one would understand his gurgling speech through the water anyway. All he could do now was watch. He glanced to his left, where Berin drifted. The seapony leader frowned around his crab mandible, his eyes crinkling with disappointment. Hesitantly, Berin swam forward, into the no-pony’s-land between the two groups. He opened his mouth and sang something in the seaponies’ lilting, musical tongue. It still sounded beautiful to Rye, despite the new obstruction of the mandible. A smaller mare emerged from the crowd, and Rye immediately recognized Meri’s sea-green mane. He inhaled a breath of crisp air from the creature on his mouth, unwilling to even move lest he disturb this critical moment. Father and daughter took each other in. Meri’s eyes scanned her father’s body, pausing on his half-claw foreleg and the grotesque addition to his mouth. Her lips quivered with some unreadable emotion. Berin visibly braced himself, and haltingly opened his forelegs. He warbled a hesitant note, which to Rye’s ear sounded unmistakably like “Meri?” All eyes present were locked upon the young mare. She lifted her head to look him in the eyes, her jaw working as she tried to speak. A single long, high-pitched fluting note ripped from her throat into the water, and she flung herself forward to embrace Berin. They whirled around, her momentum carrying them backward. Rye might not know the word she’d spoken, but the meaning of a filly screaming daddy transcended all language barriers. As if released from some invisible bonds, the New Phoenixians surged forward to meet Berin’s group. The rescued seaponies’ eyes lit with astonished happiness as their friends, mates, and children rushed to hug and nuzzle them. The terror in their faces had not vanished, but now it was tempered with grateful disbelief. Beaming under his airstar, Rye glanced over to Tyria, who floated free beside him. She winked, and pointed up. Releasing Beriac to join the reunion, Rye swam clumsily up above the mob of seaponies, who were now singing and squeaking like an overexcited orchestra. He and Tyria floated above them, sharing a celebratory hug. After a few minutes, Meri rose from the crowd to join them. She gestured for them to follow, paused, appeared to think better of it, and offered her forelegs. Rye and Tyria each held on to one, and Meri took off into the city. The light had grown very dim by the time they reached the large domed building Rye recognized as the seaponies’ surfacer meeting hall. Rye lit his horn, casting an orange glow over the dilapidated building’s weathered stones. Meri swiftly took them inside, and the three surfaced in the air pocket under the dome. Rye had idly wondered if the seaponies needed tear ducts underwater; the answer to that question was now evident. Meri’s face was streaked with tears, glittering in the orange light as they rolled over her cheeks into the seawater. “Thank you,” she choked, clapping her hooves together. “Thank you both, so much.” Clambering out of the water onto the little marble platform, Rye nodded. He helped Tyria out of the water, and they began removing their airstars. Meri took a shaky breath. “I can’t—I still can’t believe they’re alive. My father, after two years…” she bowed her head. Yanking the airstar off his face and massaging his throat, Rye smiled. “I’m happy we could help.” He slipped out of his sopping robes and began wringing them out. “How is your father?” “He’s alive,” she said simply, with a radiant smile through her tears. “The rest doesn’t matter.” “Do all of you feel the same?” Tyria asked cautiously. “I was a little worried when we first got back. Can your people ever go back to the way things were?” “I think so, in time.” Meri wiped her eyes at last, her smile faltering a little. “It will be hard, for many. Some of those you rescued have far worse injuries than my father.” Rye grimaced. “I don’t know how they might be healed. I’m afraid they may never recover.” “We’ll take care of them,” said Meri, nodding slowly to herself. “Now that there’s no threat from the monsters in the deep, we can go as far afield for seaweed and other supplies as we need to.” She looked back up at Rye, almost surprised. “You’ve freed us, surfacers.” Rye restrained himself from saying all in a day’s work, or some other flippant idiocy. Instead, he simply bowed his head. “If New Phoenixia ever needs Equestrian aid again, we would be happy to assist.” Meri bobbed her head earnestly. “I can’t speak for all seaponies, but I owe you a debt I can never repay. If there’s anything I can do for you—anything at all—” “The only thing we need right now is a way back to Zyre,” said Tyria, pressing a hoof against her neck. There were a pair of white scars where the queen had bitten her, Rye noted with concern. “And Keron should be here soon to set that up.” “Then I’ll go get him,” said Meri. “Wait here!” She flipped over and dove, her flipper splashing water over the surfacers. Tyria wrung water out of her mane with an amused smile. “I like her.” She looked at him with a faint pride in her eyes. “We did good here, Rye.” “Great things, hm?” Rye raised an eyebrow briefly. “How’s that bite? Are you still feeling okay?” She waved his concern away with a hoof, sitting down on the wet marble. “It’s fine. Just a little sore.” Her hoof rubbed the marks again. “I think that dip I took in the fountain water helped.” Rye blinked. “Oh, the fountain! Of course; I hadn’t even thought of that.” Remembering his own dive in the magic waters, he looked over his shoulder at the whip marks on his back. They looked years old, fully healed over, with only thin white lines and a slight tightness when he stretched his back to remind him they were there. He whistled cheerfully. “Do you think we’re leaving tonight?” asked Tyria, with a yawn. “That’s up to Keron,” said Rye, stifling a yawn of his own. He was suddenly aware that neither of them had slept since nearly drowning in the shipwreck a day or two ago. “I suspect he’ll need at least a day to get some ponies and supplies together for such a journey.” Dark shapes moved in the water below. They approached the surface and two seaponies’ heads burst into the glow of Rye’s horn. Meri and Keron both looked happy, although that slightly manic edge to Meri’s joy had subsided. Keron took a deep breath. “Both of you have my thanks, and the thanks of our entire city.” “You’re welcome, you’re welcome,” said Rye, waving a hoof. “So, when can we leave for Zyre?” The older seapony licked his lips, blinking. “Ah…” Rye’s stomach sank. After four years of diplomatic missions to every corner of the world, he’d gotten very good at recognizing the look of a politician about to go back on a promise. Keron rubbed the back of his neck. “In the morning, we’ll provide you with a few weeks’ worth of food, and take you back to the surface. There is a nearby island that zebra ships often stop at. I believe it’s a smuggler’s cache, actually. You can go back to Zyre on one of their ships.” “A few weeks’ worth?” Tyria frowned. “Exactly how often do these ships pass through?” “Well, smugglers don’t make regular stops,” said Keron, circling a nervous hoof through the air. “But no longer than three weeks, almost certainly.” Rye stared stonily at him. “And we’re supposed to negotiate with smugglers for passage back to the city? What makes you think they wouldn’t just leave us to starve on the island?” Or worse, what if they’re Pit Vipers? Keron looked genuinely shocked, as if he hadn’t even considered the possibility. Rye suspected the close-knit familial society of the seaponies might have left Keron with a few misconceptions about surface social orders. His lips tightened. “At any rate, three weeks is too long. We might not have more than a week before Zyre’s in trouble.” So much time wasted already. Although Zevan’s failure to deliver a message to the city might have bought them a few extra days, at least. Tyria coughed politely. “We’ve spent the last two hours being carted around by seaponies. Your people can swim as fast as a ship at full sail. Why don’t you just have them take us directly to the city?” The seapony looked panicked. “I can’t risk sending them out into the open ocean.” “But the monsters are gone. Wiped out.” Tyria pointed a hoof toward the outside of the dome. “Ask Berin and the others, if you don’t believe us.” “You say all the ones in the building were killed, but what if there were some outside?” Keron swallowed. “And even if they are all dead, the sea has other dangers. Jellyfish swarms, wild sharks, orcas—” Meri snorted. “Uncle Keron, there aren’t any orcas in the area this time of year. And since when have you been afraid of a few jellyfish?” Looking besieged, Keron made a sharp swipe of denial with his hoof. “The path straight to Zyre leads through a powerful ocean current. Carrying two heavy surfacers means shifts, which means at least four to six ponies, and only our strongest swimmers can fight through that current. The only four I know that could do it were… they were among the first ones taken. Intentionally, as Beriac tells me, for some twisted plan of the Old Phoenixians’.” He shook his head stiffly. “They can’t make that journey now, I’m sorry.” “We risked our lives for you, Keron,” said Tyria, rather tartly. “The least you could do is be honest with us.” “I just got my brother back,” said Keron, suddenly shouting, “and I will not lose him again! Or any of the others!” “Uncle!” Meri looked aghast. Rye felt a nagging from his ambassadorial instincts. Tyria and Meri kept upping the pressure, and all it was doing was making Keron armor up with refusal. Logic clearly wasn’t going to work here; Keron was irrationally terrified of letting any of his extended family out of his sight now that he had them all back in one place. Time to try a different approach. Rye placed his hooves together, pointing them at the seapony. “I understand,” he said, keeping his voice calm. “I know you want to keep your brother and the rest of your people safe, but you can’t do that by putting them in a cage.” He gestured to Meri, who nodded emphatically. “All that will do is make them resent the bars, and try to slip through them.” Keron looked away. “I don’t wish to take away anyone’s freedom. But they simply cannot make that journey safely. They aren’t capable in this condition.” “Yes, they are,” Rye gently insisted. “The queen wanted to turn them into soldiers, not cripples. But you have to let them prove it to themselves. They can take their lives back, if you allow them to.” “No.” Keron sank up to his chin in the water. “They’re not strong enough for me to let them go.” Tyria broke in, clapping a hoof firmly to the floor. “Not if you don’t give them the chance.” She shared the briefest of glances with Rye. “People can amaze you with what they’re capable of, if someone believes in them.” A ghostly smile flitted across her face. “Even amaze themselves.” Keron was quiet for a moment. His face hardened. “You leave for the smuggler’s island tomorrow morning. Good night, surfacers.” “Damn it, Keron!” Rye swore. “You can’t just leave us to rot on some godsforsaken island. There are thousands of lives—” The seapony leader dove, vanishing into the water. Rye, Tyria, and Meri were left staring after him. Meri’s face screwed up with determination. “I’ll talk with him,” she said, diving after her uncle. Both Rye and Tyria were quiet for a few moments. Tyria puffed out a frustrated sigh, rubbing her eyes. “Why wouldn’t he listen?” “He’s scared.” Rye shook his head, laying his robes flat on the driest section of marble he could find in order to air them out. He raised his eyebrows and said cheerily, “It could be worse. At least he’s not trying to have us killed.” “Politicians,” said Tyria disgustedly. Rye hoped he wasn't included in that epithet, although the accompanying eye roll made him suspect he was. Shaking her head, Tyria began unbuttoning her tattered uniform. “I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted.” “The dark side of adrenaline highs,” muttered Rye, yawning. “The crash afterwards can be spectacular.” “Then let’s get some sleep in, before Keron comes back.” Tyria dropped her shirt on the floor, shivering in the damp cold, and retreated up the half-sunken platform to find a dry spot. Following her, Rye gave a tired nod. “I hope Meri’s able to get through to him. The seaponies could get us to Zyre in three or four days. We can’t wait on an island for weeks hoping that Breyr decides to hold off his attack for our benefit.” “If anyone can get through to him, it’ll be her,” said Tyria, lying down with her back to a roof-supporting pillar. Rye snuggled up close, leaning his head on her side. “Night, Tyria.” “Mm,” she not-quite-replied. Her eyes were already closed. Soon, her chest rose and fell with the rhythmic cadences of sleep. Rye shoved all his worries about Keron and the Zyrans aside, and let himself drift away. * * * He was woken when his pillow slowly shifted under his head. Blinking his eyes open, Rye was greeted by Tyria’s face, scrunched up with effort as she stretched her forelegs like a cat. “Uhnn,” he mumbled. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” she said softly. “No sign of Keron yet. It’s only been a few hours; go back to sleep.” Rye yawned and sat up. “No, I’m awake. Not getting that dream back, anyway.” “Good dreams?” Tyria sounded envious. “I was having a nightmare about those awful sea monsters.” She swallowed. “The octopus thing was pulling me into that wall crevice. The light was going out…” “Yech.” Rye was familiar with trauma-nightmares. “Afraid I’ve got some bad news for you: you’ll probably be having that dream every so often for the rest of your life.” “Speaking from experience?” she asked quietly. Rye shivered. “Some nights I still see those caves under the mountains. When I wake up, sometimes I wonder…” He paused, and swallowed. “I wonder if I ever made it out. What if all this is just another fever dream? If I’m still trapped in that little amber bubble, waiting for those centipede-things to crawl over me and eat—” he broke off, suddenly embarrassed. “Sorry. I know, it’s a foolish thought. I always feel silly about it when I get out of bed.” Tyria cast a worried look over him. “I thought that whole mess affected you more than you were letting on,” she said. She touched his hoof with hers. “Have you ever talked about it with Inger or Cranberry?” “No.” Rye shook his head. “I don’t think any of us want to remember it.” He put on an unconvincing grin. “But it’s okay. None of us picked up any lasting scars. Aside from a fear of small, damp spaces.” Jokingly, he waved around at the sunken hall. Tyria bit her lip, and exhaled. She appeared to think for a moment, then sighed and let the subject drop. Cracking her neck, she sat up against the pillar. “So, what was your dream about?” Rye smiled slyly, remembering. “Easier to show than tell, I think…” He leaned in for a kiss. “Oho,” she said, lifting her eyebrows. Her lips met his for a moment. “I think I like this dream.” “It got very interesting,” murmured Rye, sliding a hoof through her mane. “Want to hear the rest?” Tyria brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes with a dry smile. “You sure? If she’s had any luck, Meri should be back with Keron soon.” “Lightning never strikes twice,” said Rye airily, kissing her again. “It does, actually,” she said, eyes glinting with amusement. “Frequently. Sure you don’t want another swimming lesson instead?” She ran a hoof up his chest. “I was about to teach you some useful strokes…” With her other foreleg, she guided his hoof down her side. “By all means, teach,” he said, a little out of breath. A burbling from the water drew both of their attentions. They broke apart, watching as a seapony splashed to the surface. It was Meri, holding a large wicker cylinder. Tyria gave Rye a supremely saturnine I-told-you-so look before turning to the seapony. “Hello there, Meri.” Rye exhaled through his teeth, restraining the numerous rude gestures his lizard-brain was telling him to make. “How did the talk with your uncle go?” He was jolted from his annoyed frustration when he saw the uncharacteristically stern and serious expression on Meri’s face. She glanced back down into the water toward the building entrance. “My uncle has agreed to let you go to Zyre. I’ve gathered some seaweed for us to eat on the trip.” She nudged the wicker basket. “There’s enough in here for day and a half. We’ll have to get more as we go. Hurry up and get dressed, we need to leave as soon as we can.” Rye and Tyria both grabbed their clothing and began buttoning up. Rye raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t think anything would get through to Keron. What made him change his mind?” Meri shrugged, still tense. “Who can say? I’m going to take you up the archipelago to Zendruga.” Tyria and Rye shared an uncertain look. Rye slowly nodded to Meri, fluffing his robes to loosen them. “Just you?” “Just me.” Meri tapped impatiently on the wicker basket. “I’d take you to straight to Zyre, but I don’t know where it is, and you don’t have time to wander around the ocean for days looking for it.” Her eyes darted between the two of them. “You said yesterday morning that you’d be okay if you got to Port Zendruga, though, right?” “Better than some island in the middle of nowhere, anyway,” said Rye. “I haven’t got any money, though, the pirates took everything I was carrying when I was captured. How about you, Tyria?” She shook her head. Rye put a hoof to his chin. “Right. We’ll have to think of something on the way. My ambassador’s robes might be enough to convince an Equestrian shipmaster to carry us…” Meri disappeared underwater for a moment, before reappearing and hauling a heavy burlap sack onto the marble. Rye heard the unmistakable clinking of coins. Fascinated, he opened the sack, and his jaw dropped. Inside were hundreds of gold pieces, with dozens of different designs on their faces. “Where—” he blinked, dumbfounded. “Where on earth did you get this?” “Seaponies don’t use money,” said Meri, shrugging. “With so few of us, we just share what’s needed. But lots of us collect shiny things from old shipwrecks. I asked around town for contributions, since I figured you’d need money to hire a ship to get back home.” Tyria’s eyes bulged as she inspected the gold. “Meri, we could buy a ship with this.” Meri smiled a little bashfully. “Consider it our city’s thank-you gift. What you gave us is more valuable than a few bits of metal.” She cast another anxious glance over her shoulder. “Look, we really do need to hurry.” Rye suddenly realized why Meri was acting so strangely. He tightened the money bag’s drawstring and paused. “Meri… will Keron be angry that you’re helping us?” She bit her lip and went silent. After a few moments, her eyes narrowed. “You know, I don’t think I give a damn if he is.” She looked up at the two of them with fierce determination in her eyes. “This is my choice. A favor for a favor.” Tyria had not missed the subtext. She hung the large pouch of money around her neck by the drawstring, frowning pensively. It had to be heavy, but her head remained unbent. She rubbed her chin. “Are you going to be able to get us all the way to Zendruga by yourself?” “I got you both here from the Lodestone, remember? And I won’t be alone.” Meri jerked her head to the right, and Rye noticed a gray fin poke out of the water. “One of you can ride Vina. She can handle the weight of a smaller pony.” She looked expectantly at Rye. No one will ever believe me, he thought dryly. “So I’m riding a shark to Zendruga. Does she have a… saddle, or something?” “No. Lemon sharks have plenty of room in front of their fin for a pony your size to sit. Just hang on and keep your hooves off of her gills. Oh, and try not to squeeze too hard. She nips if you do that.” At least Tyria can tell people I died getting eaten by a shark. How many Equestrians go out that way? Rye gave a shaky sigh. “Okay, let’s do this. Before I think better of it.” He slid into the water, wincing at the cold. Grimacing, he pulled his airstar out of his robes and attached it to his face. He dove as Tyria followed him into the water. Meri submerged with her wicker basket, gesturing to Rye. He accepted it and slung it over his back like some kind of reverse-saddlebag. Tyria threw her legs around Meri’s neck, the whole setup made more awkward than ever by the bag of money. Mounting a shark proved easier than Rye had feared. Vina remained calm under his touch as he settled into position on her back. Her skin was surprisingly smooth. Trying not to think about what would happen if the shark decided he looked tasty, Rye held on as tightly as he dared. Once Meri was satisfied that her charges were both secure, she took off toward the exit. Vina followed, sliding through the water like an arrow. They emerged from the building into the night-covered reef. It was hard to see in the faint moonlight that filtered down through the water, but even the dimmest light seemed like a torch compared to the total darkness of the Black. The small party set off into the watery night, leaving the city of the seaponies behind. Rye tightened his grip on Vina’s sides and bent his head against the rush of water. At least they were moving again.