My Little Teelo: Masquerade

by Ardwolf

Duplicity

In which a grand game of deception begins and alliances become fluid.

Dear Diary,

I’m writing this on Thursday afternoon because I’m bored out of my mind. Teelo’s been riding with me all day since the caravan’s trying to make up lost time and ponies and trolls can move a lot faster than humans can.

We had another adventure this morning, although this time the action was actually an hour away from where I was! Apparently Dustiness (the ones that kidnapped Sweetie Belle) are being a royal pain and still causing all kinds of mischief. They had a dragon mercenary with them during the rescue but he was way too big to arrest. Teelo couldn’t kill him because it would have made a big stink with the rest of the dragons and caused Celestia no end of grief. So in the end all they could do was banish him.

Apparently, he held a grudge and ol’ Dusty decided to tell him where we were.

Relax!

Heavy Hoof (Rolling Thunder’s commander) is no fool. See he’s got this pair of unicorns that can turn into ghosts, just like that Danny Phantom cartoon David likes so much. He sent them to scout the road ahead, and they found the dragon laying in ambush for us. But the dragon couldn’t see them and they came back and reported.

There was a big powwow between Teelo, Søyle and the two pony commanders. I listened in, and get this—it was me that gave Teelo the idea that saved the day!

I rock!

See Dusty stole the dragon’s horde while he was out hunting. Then, they tricked him into working for them by paying him using his own horde, though of course the dragon didn’t know that.

Teelo told Heavy Hoof about the gizmo Twilight created that let her speak to Princess Celestia while she was on Earth. Apparently it’s super-simple to create one, it’s just nobody ever thought about doing it before. Anyway, they cut this blue gem in half after casting some spells on it, and it acted just like a pair of walkie-talkies.

The ghost brothers dropped one half under the dragon’s nose so we could talk to him. Then Teelo told him what Dusty had done. Man, was he angry! I mean he’s really pissed at Teelo but he roared so loud about Dusty he actually made the gem overload and turn to powder! I don’t think I’d like to be Dusty right about now. That dragon is a hundred feet long and can breathe fire, just like in the movies. He’s still not on our side, but he’s definitely gonna put the hurt on Dusty for what they did to him!

So—the enemy of my enemy, I guess? Teelo says it’s a win, or at least not a loss, and the more grief we can bring down on Dusty’s collective head, the better. Can you tell we don’t like them? LOL

We’ve only traveled about 4 miles so far today, but Søyle says we should reach some kind of trading post by tonight. It’s not a town, more like one of those old time trading forts, you know: Daniel Boone, fur trading, and all that log cabin stuff. If we manage to make it before dark we might even be able to sleep in a real bed!

Oh, don’t get me wrong. That sleeping bag you gave me is warm enough, and the sleeping pad works really well when we have to sleep on the ground like we did last night, but nothing beats a real bed!

You know, in spite of all the little (ok, not so little) adventures on this trip I’m not hating it at all. The food is simple, but tasty and there’s a lot of it. I’m getting more exercise than I ever did at home, and in spite of everything I feel pretty safe.

You have no idea how comforting it is to be surrounded by your own clan of thirty trolls on a dark night, not to mention over fifty pony soldiers. I hate to admit it but you and Teelo were right. Equestria’s kind of rough and more dangerous than I believed it would be—but at the same time I have to say I’m enjoying myself.

I am making sure I stay in the middle of the caravan, by the way! I’m not stupid. A little excitement goes a long way, trust me!

Anyway, I’ll write more later, I think I’m gonna try and talk to Kusken. Maybe if Teelo helps I can get him to say more than five words an hour.

Your loving daughter, Adventure Girl

Dear Diary,

Hi, it’s me again. It’s Friday evening and we’ve made camp for the night. Last night we did reach the trading post, and Teelo and I managed to score a bed!

I’m trying to think of what I want to say here, actually. You know how you always tell me to look at the bright side? Well, the bed was, um, big! Yeah…and I can’t say it was uncomfortable exactly, even though the mattress was stuffed with straw, because it wasn’t. But…well, it turns out in the middle of the wilderness a trading post needs to be sparing with supplies for itself. Can’t have all those little luxuries like—for example—soap.

See, the herd that runs the trading post are minotaurs. You know—half-bull half-man? Or, woman and cow too, I guess. Anyway, I won’t say they had BO, because they didn’t exactly. Um, at least it didn’t smell like human BO. More like a cow barn. Well, without the poop part, naturally, the fort has outhouses. But the cow smell was everywhere, even in the guest rooms. Took some getting used to, you know?

Dinner was good, though! Minotaurs are omnivorous, like humans. So we had this stew with venison in it. Teelo says deer in Equestria aren’t intelligent, so that’s ok. Our caravan was way too big for the trading post to feed everyone, but Teelo, Søyle, and I got invited to dinner with the Head Bull (that’s what they call the herd leader). Anyway, apparently trolls and minotaurs get along really well. Lots of troll runners use the outpost as a rest stop, so when Turrus Steelhorn (he’s the Head Bull) heard that Teelo was the queen of the trolls and Søyle was the king’s wife he fell all over himself to extend us hospitality.

We got breakfast too, and it was kind of weird, but still made of stuff I recognized. They had these big sweet cornbread muffins. I only ate half of one because they were huge. Teelo ate three, plus the other half of mine! There were these flapjack things, but made from fried potatoes, and really spicy. Oh, and squirrel sausage. I didn’t find out what it was until after I ate it. It was kind of greasy, but not bad.

The mead was pretty tasty too.

Yeah, yeah, I know. Horrors! I’m too young to drink, bla-bla-bla. I didn’t know what it was at the time, ok? I swear! I only had one mug full, and that mug was the minotaur version of a kiddy cup, probably about eight ounces. Naturally, Søyle and the minotaurs were guzzling the stuff and it didn’t seem to affect them at all, but then again even female minotaurs probably weigh close to 800 pounds like Søyle, so maybe that’s why.

Teelo asked Turrus what it was and he called it melomel. He said it was made from honey and raspberries. Teelo got a funny look on her face and asked him if it was fermented. He said it was and then Teelo looked at me and said “Emma, this is mead. One mug full probably won’t hurt you but I wouldn’t refill it if I were you.”

I didn’t, and she didn’t either. I don’t think we got drunk off that one mug, neither one of us was staggering or slurring our speech. I did sleep pretty solidly, and I didn’t have a headache the next morning so I didn’t over indulge, right?

I promise I’ll be more careful about drinking what I’m given in the future, though!

All the minotaurs got a real laugh from that. Turns out minotaurs give their three year-olds mead, although they do water it down for the youngest ones.

Anyway, enough about that! Guess what? Teelo bought me a walking stick! It’s beautiful, about five feet long and made of this dark brown wood with the most amazing patterns in it—you know, wood grain? Plus it’s polished until it gleams. There are caps on each end made of iron, and Turrus said it’s magical, how cool is that??? I have a magic walking stick!!! Well, kind of, the magic just keeps the wood from rotting and the iron from rusting, but still!

I don’t even care that Turrus told me it was originally made for his oldest son—when he was like five years old…yeah. He kind of outgrew it. As in he’s-got-a-wife-and-kids-now outgrew it.

Don’t care! Magic walking stick, woo-hoo!

Magic. Freaking. Walking. Stick.

I am so stoked!

Kusken dug out some old harness straps from the supplies and made me a sling so I can carry it across my back, a lot like Teelo carries Crush. It already had a wrist strap so I don’t have to worry about losing it if I drop it or anything, which is cool. I’d be heartbroken if I lost it!

By the way, it makes walking a lot easier too. Oh, speaking of which, Søyle says we’re about half way to Hejm at this point and if we keep up this pace we’ll make the customs station by Monday afternoon. Yay! The trip’s not been bad so far but I’m looking forward to reaching the city.

Gotta say this adventure stuff is overrated.

Love,

Emma.

Earth, Friday evening, June 6, 2013 8:17 PM Eastern Standard Time

“Gentlemen,” The President nodded to the other two men in the Oval Office. “David, I assume since you called this meeting you have something for me?”

“Yes, sir,” Admiral Spears said with a nod. “We’ve managed to exfiltrate the private investigator’s case files and phone history. Analysis has turned up some interesting links, including a retired special forces operative.”

“I did not want to hear that,” President Bend said tiredly. “Please tell me it’s some innocuous chance relationship.”

“Unfortunately not,” Admiral Spears said, shaking his head. “There are multiple links between the PI and the Green Beret to other people in the PI’s case history. Otherwise independent links and that almost always indicates a hotspot.”

“So what do we know?”

“I’ve compiled a briefing, first the highlights. The private investigator’s name is Evelyn Rae Lewis, 28, Bachelor of Arts degree in Criminal Justice and Criminology from the University of Missouri, minored in Political Science. She’s had her PI license for seven years and is a member in good standing with the Kansas Association of Licensed Investigators. No criminal record, no known foreign contacts, no travel outside the United States, no passport. No unexplained large deposits in her bank account either.”

“Sounds clean enough,” President Bend noted. Admiral Spears nodded.

“Very clean Mr. President, almost suspiciously so for a private investigator. Her cases, however, tend toward the—unlikely.”

“Meaning what?” The President asked in confusion.

“Let’s see. Aside from the typical stuff, cheating spouses, divorces, child custody investigations, some insurance fraud, a couple of employee theft investigations—one for a certain Rosalyn Parker, by the way, which explains how she got involved.”

“Pretty tame stuff, David.”

“It is. But four years ago she started getting a reputation among the conspiracy nut jobs and the so called psychic community. Let’s see, here’s one about a haunted house, the client was, hmm, The Friends of The Afterlife Society. Here’s one to investigate a cult who supposedly performed Satanic ritual sacrifices, another cult investigation of, and I quote, The Rainbow of Kindness, unquote. Here’s one to track down a supposed werewolf running loose in rural Missouri, oh, and my personal favorite, the government cover up of a crashed UFO in downtown Topeka.”

“I’m sorry, did you say downtown Topeka?” Dennis Mitchell asked in disbelief.

Admiral Spears grinned. “Yep, supposedly happened in 1973. At midnight. On the grounds of a secret government office, no less.”

“This I gotta hear,” The Chief of Staff said, staring raptly at the admiral.

“There’s nothing to hear.” The other man shrugged. “The supposed office never existed. The crash didn’t happen and I’ll let Evelyn Lewis sum up. This investigation was a bust. Not that I expected anything else, but who can turn down a 10k retainer? I feel so guilty taking their money, but they did insist even after I warned them. Granted, if there had been anything to find originally, after nearly 40 years what did they expect?

“That sounds like certain congressmen I’ve had to deal with,” President Bend snarked.

“Sounds like certain congressmen I’ve had to testify in front of,” Admiral Spears replied with a wry smile. “Ok, that brings us to Christmas Day of last year, which is where things take a sharp left turn into the Twilight Zone. She took a case from one Teagan O’Gara. Conscientious PI that she is she recorded Ms. O’Gara’s address, phone number, and a number of other details including the type of case. But what’s really fascinating is how Ms. O’Gara apparently learned about her. ”

“You enjoy teasing me, don’t you David?” President Bend asked tiredly. “Ok, how?”

“The original call came from Detective John Nickels, KCPD. From the cell tower evidence he was in Teagan O’Gara’s home at the time of the call, along with his partner, Detective Sarah Long. Both of whom, it turns out, were off duty at the time. Furthermore, those two particular detectives were the senior investigators the prior January, when her parents reported their daughter Teagan’s disappearance. According to the police report she came back three weeks later, claiming she’d actually run away.”

“Interesting,” The President was now giving the Admiral his full attention.

“Very. The father then made another call, to one Lieutenant Matthew Adam Sanders, retired Green Beret. Who, as it turns out, owns the Krav Maga dojo where Teagan O’Gara takes classes. This is the same Lieutenant Sanders who was instrumental in Operation Pterodactyl.”

President Bend winced. Admiral Spears nodded grimly. “Yeah, that monumental fuster-cluck. The operation that uncovered Chinese operatives had compromised a three-star general and two US senators. The scandal would have brought down your administration, save for the heroic—but incredibly illegal—actions of Lieutenant Sanders. Who then leveraged the situation to obtain an early retirement and a comfortable financial remuneration—part of which he used to buy the dojo where Teagan O’Gara trains.

“But it gets better. John Donal O’Gara, Teagan’s father is also the Chieftain of Clan O’Gara; with roots that trace all the way back to the legends of the Tuatha De Danann. In, wait for it, Northern Ireland.”

“The IRA? Didn’t they disband?” Dennis Mitchell interjected.

“The IRA proper did, but two years ago the PIRA took up the mantel and began terrorist activities again,” Admiral Spears explained. “And now we have an Irish Clan Chief with potential connections in Northern Ireland tied to our jewel trading PI with possible Fae involvement.”

“According to cell tower data Evelyn Lewis came to see Teagan on Christmas. Curiously, so did Lieutenant Sanders, who was there while the two detectives were still there, meaning they must have at least seen each other. Lieutenant Sanders then left, along with the detectives before the PI arrived. However, he returned less than an hour later, according to cell tower information.

“And then things take a bizarre turn. Approximately six hours later both Lieutenant Sanders and Evelyn Lewis’s cell phones simply vanish.”

“They turned them off?” President Bend asked, frowning. Admiral Spears shrugged.

“That’s possible,” the Admiral admitted, “except for an odd note in Teagan’s school attendance records. It seems she was absent from school an entire week after classes resumed. Coincidentally, there is a complete lack of cell phone activity and credit card activity for both Lieutenant Sanders and Evelyn Lewis until Teagan’s reappearance at school.”

“You think the three of them were together?” President Bend asked.

“Yes, and I’m willing to bet I know where,” he said calmly.

“The new universe?” The President asked, eyes widening.

“Exactly,” The admiral said firmly. “Because the case Evelyn Lewis was working on was an abduction case. Her notes are extremely circumspect, but the victim was apparently a princess, and the victim’s sister was the actual client.”

“A princess? From this new universe?” President Bend asked incredulously. “Miss O’Gara is involved with the royalty in another universe?”

“Well, that explains the ruby,” Dennis Mitchell noted wryly. “I hear princesses pay pretty well.”

“It may explain a great deal more than that,” Admiral Spears noted. “Teagan’s first disappearance was in January of 2012. She was gone for about three weeks. This second disappearance was around the same time of year, for about the same amount of time. I would be willing to bet Teagan O’Gara stumbled across a gateway between our world and the seventh universe. There’s probably some kind of astronomical alignment that lets the gate open, which is consistent with some legends we have of the Fae and how gateways between worlds are supposed to work.

“There’s another interesting development. The Kansas Department of Children and Families received an anonymous tip that Teagan was being neglected. A case worker investigated and reported no evidence of neglect, and closed the case as a false alarm.

“Mind control?” President Bend asked grimly.

Admiral Spears nodded. “It’s certainly consistent with what we know of the Fae,” he said in agreement. “I wonder who filed the report, it’s likely someone in an official position, a teacher perhaps.

“Oh, and one final thing. We pulled the credit records of the O’Gara household expenditures. We established a baseline average for their spending. It showed a big spike about a week ago, as though they had some guests, and then fell, suggesting the guests had left. Now they’re spending only two thirds of their baseline, suggesting there are only two family members present instead of three.

“Meaning Teagan’s gone back to the new universe?” President Bend asked.

“Yes, but we found another family, the Halsteads. They have two children, David and Emma. Emma is in the same homeroom as Teagan, and they call each other. A lot. Just like the O’Gara’s the Halstead expenses suddenly increased, then decreased by a quarter. Interestingly, the Halstead household bought several items that suggest a camping trip. New shoes, some new clothes, bug repellent, travel sized toothpaste…well; you see where I’m going with this.”

“You think she took her best friend with her to the new universe?” President Bend asked skeptically. “Why would she do that?”

“No idea—yet.” The Admiral shrugged. “Give me another week and I might have some answers. It’s a lot harder when I have to rely on passive resources alone. Given everything we don’t know about the situation I don’t dare use more direct methods.”

“We don’t want to make anyone angry,” The President agreed. “Keep me posted.”

“Yes, Mr. President,” Admiral Spears nodded.

The windigo patrol intercepted the dragon a dozen miles from the mountain, high in the frigid air of the far north. They evaporated in a blaze of dragon fire before they could even speak. The blue scaled beast silently dove to avoid any more patrols, eyes burning red in fury as he advanced on the hidden lair.

Celestia nodded to both Pinstripe Tock and Under Hoof as they sat down. Her horn flashed as she activated the privacy arrays embedded in her study.

“Your Highness, it is, I believe, done,” Under Hoof said calmly. “Our new player has been very busy indeed. We had to arrest over two hundred ponies, from all walks of life. A dozen nobles alone were involved, as well as some of the Guard and several ponies in the Ears. What surprises me most was how quickly the house of cards fell apart once we began using heretofore unsanctioned methods. Mind-reading is, of course, normally unforgiveable but none the less astoundingly effective during interrogations.”

“I am not proud to have authorized it, Under Hoof,” Celestia said sadly, shaking her head. “But too many lives are at stake. I am glad that it’s over.”

“Ponies do not make good conspirators,” Pinstripe noted. “The merest nudge was sufficient to make them reveal all. In fact, the hard part was to winnow the wheat of truth from the chaff of irrelevance. Most of them had no idea they were working for an evil organization, most simply thought they were passing along worthless tidbits of gossip for a handful of extra bits a week—with the notable exception of the captured nobles. All of whom were conspiring to gain more wealth and power without regard to the damage they might have caused. I am appalled at how many of them entered the conspiracy with eyes wide open.”

“The only question remaining is what to do with them,” Under Hoof said quietly.

“Unfortunately, they will have to be held in the dungeons until Duisternis has been dealt with,” Celestia said. “As for those who willingly dealt with Duisternis, I’m afraid reformation spells will be necessary.”

“Understood, Your Highness,” Under Hoof nodded. “There is one final matter that is of grave concern. Adept Glory was one of the ponies arrested.”

Princess Celestia’s eyes clenched shut in momentary pain. “So Duisternis has compromised the Academy as well. He was the only one?”

“Yes, Your Highness. Scans indicate more than simple greed was at work in his case, however. We detected unusual levels of animaic corruption, as though he had engaged in extensive use of dark magic.”

“That is worrying,” Celestia murmured thoughtfully. “Dark magic seems to rearing its ugly head far too often lately. Is the corruption reversible?”

“Wind Shimmer isn’t sure,” Pinstripe Tock spoke up. “Certainly reformation spells will be useless unless the corruption is removed but she isn’t sure if can be. The Elements of Harmony could do so, but given Adept Glory’s age he might not survive the shock of it. Anything less powerful might not be effacious.”

“I will consult with my sister, her knowledge of animaic corruption is quite extensive,” Celestia said, allowing the irony of that statement to pass unremarked. “Gentleponies, you have my thanks for performing such a…necessary…but distasteful task with both speed and professionalism. Is there any other news I should know of?”

The two stallions exchanged a glance.

“None, Your Highness,” Pinstripe Tock replied.

Thunder lived up to his sobriquet, his fiery breath erasing a dozen concealed undead guards as he slammed into the mountain’s entrance with a roar that echoed down long seemingly deserted passageways.

It wasn’t subtle, but an enraged dragon seldom is. He stalked down the entrance passage like Death’s herald, freeing skeleton and zombie soldiers of their enslavement with extreme prejudice, allowing them to continue their long-interrupted journey to the afterlife.

“What is going on?” Sombra snarled as a windigo appeared.

“A dragon, Master. It has penetrated the lair and is destroying all that it encounters. It appears quite angry.”

“Rimor!” Sombra cursed. “His bumbling stupidity has brought this beast down on us and his useless toys cannot stop the rampaging creature!” His eyes narrowed. “How many of the Slange are present?”

“None, Master. Hoë Towenaar has left to consult with Verlei on the final push to drive the troll queen underground and infiltrate our agent with her. The other Slange are all executing their own missions.”

“How many draugr are here then?” Sombra asked, mentally reviewing resources. He cursed again, realizing the dragon had chosen the worst possible time to attack them. The lair was fully garrisoned by Rimor’s toy soldiers, but they were useless against a raging dragon, who could slay the lot of them with no fear of harm to itself.

“Two, Master. Gemmer and Suiker, held in reserve as you commanded.”

“Summon them. I will have to face this dragon myself, using them to distract him so I can land a killing blow.”

The windigo bowed and vanished.

“Rimor, I will see you dead for this!” Sombra snarled as he trotted to confront their unwanted guest.

Earth, Friday evening, June 6, 2013 10:06 PM Eastern Standard Time

Admiral Spears settled into the leather bound chair in his den at home with a deep sigh, lifting the glass of Hennessy to his chest and taking an appreciative sniff, letting the floral scent of the cognac relax his knotted shoulders.

The brandy was a rare indulgence, but he deemed the current circumstances strange enough for it. In the old tradition he then lifted the snifter higher, and took another deep sniff, letting the odor fill his world with subtle spices.

Completing the ritual he lifted the glass directly under his nose and breathed in with mouth parted to let the full taste and smell of the aged brandy fill his world.

Only then did he take the smallest sip, letting the warmth of the liquid send a wave of relaxation through him. A second, deeper sip was carefully savored, filling his mouth with delight.

He swallowed in contentment and set the glass back on the desk.

“I see you are a true connoisseur, Admiral,” an amused voice said from the couch. The man jerked his head toward the unexpected sound.

“Ah, Faust. I wondered if you might be paying a visit,” Admiral Spears said, relaxing—at least outwardly. “Can I offer you some cognac? Hennessy XO, 2007? It’s quite good.”

“A kind offer indeed, Admiral, truly. But it would be rude to share your most excellent cognac and then distress you with my counsel.”

The blond teenager was sprawled elegantly on the leather couch, his grin casual and eyes twinkling.

“It appears the apocalypse is nigh,” The Admiral said drily. “To what do I owe the honor of a straight answer from the Fae?”

“Well, I never said it would be a straight answer, now did I? Where’s the fun in that?” Faust chuckled. “Still, matters are not as light-hearted as I would wish and thus I shall keep things less cryptic than I normally enjoy.”

“For a given value of less, no doubt,” Admiral Spears said gravely, giving his full attention to his guest.

“You know me too well, Admiral,” Faust said, sitting up. He still slumped like a teenager, but at least he was somewhat more vertical than before.

“Did you know I can talk to birds, Admiral? And oh how they’re chirping! Little birdies talking all day long about the Queen. They say the hounds are sniffing around, sniffing here, and sniffing there, sniffing everywhere. And while the Queen is a kindly sort, and doesn’t want the poor little doggies hurt, she won’t hesitate to smack their noses if they stick them somewhere they shouldn’t.”

“Would this be Titania?” Admiral Spears asked carefully when it appeared Faust had had his say.

“A beautiful one, the Queen of the Summer Court she is,” Faust said, eyes momentarily turning wistful. “But nay, fair Titania is not of whom I speak. For she is ancient and wise and far from the reach of the hounds—and that is no bad thing, mark you.

“No, the Queen I speak of is an earthier sort, newly come to her power, a creature of ice and fire! Though her subjects dwell deep, she flies hither and yon, walking upon the rainbow when there is need. But take heed, my eager pup. She is neither ancient nor wise as such things are measured, yet her power is not to be scorned.”

“I take it I wouldn’t like her when she’s angry?” Admiral Spears asked in a serious tone. Uncharacteristically solemn, Faust nodded.

“Heed my words, mortal. She is a queen worthy of her subjects, and tries to be kind every day of her life. But she can be terrible in her rage, and destiny cannot gainsay her. She is moving and the worlds spin around her like jewels. And none can say where that spinning wheel will leave us when the game ends.”

Faust grinned suddenly. “But I spoke of hounds, did I not? There is a time, Admiral, when it is proper for the pack to run free under the moon, baying in their joy of the hunt. But even the Wild Hunt knows to be silent when the prey is beyond their strength.”

He gazed at the human with one corner of his mouth quirked.

“It is said one should never ask the Fae for advice, for they will say both yea and nay. But I offer you this counsel freely. Should you seek out the Queen do not waste her time with flunkies. Only a King may treat with a Queen, but this Queen already has her King, and is wary of yours. So if he goes to her it must be on her terms, not his.”

“Does this queen have a name?” The man asked his guest carefully.

“Names have power, Admiral. She would not thank me if I spoke her name. But I will tell you the title her subjects give her. Mark it well, for I will not say it twice, for even titles have power.”

“All right, what is it?” Admiral Spears leaned forward.

“Dronning av Fjellet,” Faust said, and promptly vanished.

Admiral Spears hastily wrote the nonsense words down, hoping that his people would be able to find some kind of meaning in them.

Then he picked up his brandy and repeated the time honored tradition. But this time it didn’t relax him, for some reason.