Looking Glass, P.I: Coins and Crowns

by Kavonde


Chapter 13

Crown Jewel's massive estate sprawled across a peninsula that stretched out into Clover Bay. The road leading to it was long, winding, and heavily wooded, and anypony who wandered in found themselves politely asked to leave by camouflaged guards stationed along the way. Entry by sea was difficult due to the sheer, rocky cliffs that rose up from the churning water. And anypony trying to come in by air would have to deal with a squad of armed, skilled, and highly-payed pegasi.

The mansion itself was built like a fortress, with layers of outer walls surrounding a palatial central keep. Guards, their armor painted black to reduce its gleam, watched out over the night from a dozen turreted towers. Even the windows were thick glass, treated with magic and tinted almost black.

If I'd been trying to get in there on my own, I'd be dead before I set hoof on the property. Fortunately, I had friends.

Well, comrades.

Well, temporary allies that would kill me if they thought I wasn't holding up my end of the bargain. And that might kill me anyway once our business was concluded.

I shook my head, soliciting a dull throb from the knot on my skull. I'd cross that bridge when I came to it. Chances were good I'd be dead long before Nightingale got the chance to off me.

I glanced over at her. She'd pulled her mane back into a tight tail, revealing the ugly scars in all their glory. She noticed me looking, and quirked an eyebrow.

“How'd you get those?” I asked conversationally.

“Griffon,” she replied.

“Ouch.”

She grinned. “You should've seen what I did to him.”

I chuckled nervously and turned away, looking up at my transport instead. Bandageface was staring back at me, hate and anger still burning bright in his eyes.

“Hey, for what it's worth, sorry about smashing your face.”

He glared at me.

“To be fair, though, you were trying to kill me.”

He kept glaring.

“I think you should keep the look, though. The 'strong, silent bruiser' thing suits you. You could stand behind Nightingale and stare at people. Ooh, and maybe you could paint on some flames or something. Or glue some spikes.”

I felt the pegasus' grip on me loosening. Nightingale glanced over at us with an amused smirk. “You should consider shutting up, love.”

“Noted.”

We continued in silence. On the Union leader's opposite side, the yellow-and-black Hornet carried Hot Air. The unicorn had gone quiet and limp since we tied him up, and he dangled underneath the big pegasus like a bundle of rags.

We descended through the night sky, the estate growing larger below us with alarming speed. I was just about to point our velocity out to Bandageface when he abruptly banked, flying parallel with the ground for a moment before letting me drop. I hit the dirt hard and tumbled nearly twenty feet before coming to a stop.

Boulder,” Nightingale scolded, landing softly behind me. Hornet came next, gently placing the comatose Hot Air on the ground in front of him.

“I'm–ow–good,” I grumbled, spitting sod and dirt out of my mouth and struggling to roll myself to my feet. I was beginning to regret letting myself get hoofcuffed.

“Miss Nightingale,” an unfamiliar voice rumbled. I looked up to see a half dozen or so guards, all in black armor and armed with spears, approaching. Their leader was a massive unicorn, probably the largest pony I'd ever seen, with steel gray fur and intense red eyes. “We weren't expecting you.”

“Blackguard,” she responded with surprising humility, inclining her head. “Sorry to drop in unannounced, but we had important news for Mr. Jewel. We found this one–“ she pointed to Hot Air “–cutting a deal with the private eye. Said he'd offer him half a million bits to present his evidence to the F.P.D, but leave out his own involvement.”

The unicorn stamped over to the prone Hot Air, bending down to inspect him. “Why is he gagged?”

Nightingale shrugged. “He was being annoying.”

He grunted. “I'll tell Mr. Jewel. Wait here.”

We were left there in the... courtyard, I supposed, with the remaining guards watching us silently. Bandageface generously pushed me over so that I was lying on my back instead of my face–if one defines “push” as “savagely kick in the ribs.” Nightingale said nothing, but I saw her roll her eyes.

“This is a stupid plan,” I muttered quietly.

“It's your plan,” she whispered back.

“What's your point?”

She grinned and trotted away.

Blackguard returned several minutes later. “You're free to leave,” he informed the pegasi. “Mr. Jewel wants to speak to these two alone.”

“Now hold on a minute, love” Nightingale protested. “We've been busting our flanks to find this guy, and we sniffed out a traitor. I think a reward is in order for our extraordinary service.”

The unicorn glared at her. She matched his intensity ounce for ounce. Finally, he blinked and looked away. “Fine. Just you. The others can stay here or leave.”

She glanced at her goons. They nodded back and sat down back-to-back, nonchalant but obviously alert. Blackguard gestured with his horn towards me and Gold Coin, and two of his guards broke ranks to drag us after him.

I was surprised by how austere the mansion's interior was. I'd expected gold statues, velvet carpets, the kinds of things I'd seen in every other rich pony's home. Instead, the floors and walls were bare, gray flagstone; the only things breaking the monotony were old-fashioned wall sconces, torches flickering within them.

“Okay,” I said to the guard pulling me, “your boss is a vampire. Did not expect that.”

“Shut up,” he rumbled, giving me a thump in the chest with his rear hoof.

I realized as we went that even the interior of the building was a layered defense. This nondescript corridor was actually a freaking maze, with occasional slits in the walls where no doubt arrows and spears could be shoved through. We made a dozen or more sudden, inexplicable turns, and despite my efforts, I couldn't quite keep track of the route we'd taken. I blamed the concussion.

We finally reached a set of stairs heading up, and things actually began to resemble equestrian habitation. A forest green carpet, trimmed with silver thread, covered the steps. When we reached the top, we found ourselves in a cavernous chamber that was related to studio apartments in the same way that a mountain is related to a rock. Off in the distance, I could see an elegant four-post bed; on the other side was a kitchen with a small, humble table.

Trophies filled the entire place. Stuffed creatures I'd only heard about in fairy tales reared up at me from everywhere I looked. There were manticores, cockatrices, timber wolves, and things I didn't even have names for. A massive, white worm-centipede thing reared up along the far wall, its back glowing red and its body lined with sickle-like legs. A bear the size of a house, bone spikes jutting out of its hide at every joint, loomed over us from our left. The sheer amount of bizarre and terrifying monsters made my heart jump into my throat until I had convinced myself that they were all very much dead.

Besides the taxidermied beasts, weapons of every size, shape, and description lined the walls. Here were shields and spears and swords in the ancient pegasi style; there was a suit of armor once worn by Canterlot knights. A rack of broadswords spanning the entire length of pony civilization hung over a large, glowing fireplace. And in front of them, seated casually on an emerald couch, was the unicorn who could only be Crown Jewel.

He wasn't quite what I was expecting. His white coat was somewhat matted and tangled; his green mane was streaked with gray and looked limp and greasy. A pair of worn old spectacles and a bushy little mustache completed the look of a pony who seemed more at home in a cubicle with an abacus than here, lounging in the lair of some evil overlord.

“Lord Jewel,” Blackguard called, stamping a hoof in salute. “I've brought the prisoners. And the Union representative insisted on having a word with you.”

The older stallion motioned for us to approach him. We did, at the guards' insistence.

“Well, well,” he said when we reached him. His voice was deep and sonorous, shockingly at odds with his appearance. “An earth pony, roughly thirty-five years old, with a brown coat and blue mane. You must be Looking Glass.”

“Where's Calla?”

His eyebrows rose in surprise. “I think you have more pressing concerns, Mr. Glass.”

“Where is she?”

We stared into eachothers eyes, daring the other to look away first. After a long moment, Nightingale interrupted. “Sorry, love, she's all he's been talking about. Think he's got a soft spot for her.”

He laughed, breaking our contest with a turn of his head. “Yes, well, she is rather an attractive young mare. Though not nearly as lovely as you, of course, sweet Nightingale.”

Nightingale tittered girlishly. I rolled my eyes. “Where. Is. She.”

Crown glanced at me with annoyance. His horn flashed, and a chair near the fire spun around. Calla Lily sat there, bound and gagged, her eyes wide and terrified.

Rage flared up in my chest. “If you've hurt her-”

The unicorn waved a hoof dismissively. “Spare me your empty bravado, Mr. Glass. Now, what was this about my good friend Mr. Air plotting betrayal? I rather thought I'd cowed him into submission.”

I glanced back at Air. His eyes were focused now, and he was staring at Crown Jewel, shaking his head frantically. Blackguard's horn flared red, and the gag began untying itself.

I looked at Nightingale. She nodded.

SHE'S THE TRAITOR!” Hot Air screamed.

The hoofcuffs clicked and fell free of my right foreleg.

Blackguard's spear rose up, glowing scarlet.

Nightingale spat out the key and hunched down, pawing the ground.

Crown Jewel's narrowed eyes met mine.

“This is a stupid plan,” I muttered.