//------------------------------// // A Sympathetic Ear // Story: Freeport Venture: A Thousand Masks // by Chengar Qordath //------------------------------// Being a spy comes with a lot of cool perks: secret identities, high tech gadgets, the license to kill, fancy carriages, and the right to be really snooty about ordering your milkshakes shaken, not stirred. But out of all the bonuses spies get, my favorite is probably the lying. Not that I’m a pathological liar or anything, but I’ve always liked the way a spy can just reinvent themselves at a moment’s notice. Give me a couple days to sort out the paperwork and work out my background, and I could pass myself off as anything from a babysitter to a princess. Of course, it turns out that there are people out there who are way better at that game than I am. I should know—one of them was my date for tonight. A date who was currently five minutes late. And while it’s totally fine and expected for a mare to make the guy wait, if it’s the stallion doing it to the mare, that’s a whole other thing. Social conventions are weird that way. Sure, technically Puzzle was a genderless shapeshifter, but he seemed to default to male forms. Plus I’m not really into mares, so that made him close enough to a stallion for me. Though I couldn’t get too annoyed with Puzzle, seeing as we weren’t even a real item. I think. Maybe. Kinda hard to tell when our entire maybe-kinda-relationship was based on lying to and manipulating each other, all centered around Sunset Shimmer. I’m not even sure if our dates were really dates so much as an excuse for us to meet up, talk shop, and compare notes. But since calling them dates meant he paid for dinner and took me somewhere nice, I wasn’t gonna complain. Well, as long he didn’t get fresh with me. Don’t get me wrong, Puzzle’s pretty cute for an evil, manipulative, love-sucking bug. Fun to talk to, and remarkably charming in his own creepy evil monster sort of way. I almost regret illegally imprisoning him for several days, and there’ve been a few times I hoped I would never have to make good on that promise to kill him if he crosses the line with Celestia’s student. Granted, part of that’s because I’m not sure I could actually pull it off; Puzzle’s probably better at the game than I am, at least as long as we’re playing by conventional rules. I just had to hope that if it came down to that, I’d be able to out-crazy him. Though in a pinch, I could always pull the Celestia card on him. Wonder what he’d be like in bed? I mean, he’s a changeling, which means he could change any part of his anatomy. That could be fun, if not for the fact that he’d probably sink those fangs into my neck halfway through the sex to suck out my love. Bit of a mood killer, that. I sighed and leaned back in my chair, earning a dirty look from the waiter. The Galleon Grill was one of Freeport’s hot new places, and like most high-profile restaurants, the staff were a bunch of snobs about it. The Grill wasn’t even some fancy black-tie place, so you’d think I could get away with being a bit casual. Seriously, when you build your restaurant in an old merchant ship that ran aground during a storm, you lose the right to be snobbish. The worst part was that I was hungry, but couldn’t snack on anything. Not even diplomatic immunity would save me from bringing outside food into a restaurant. I learned that one the hard way. Since I couldn’t eat until Puzzle showed up, I tried to distract myself by studying the menu. It was weird. Like, weird even by the standards of Freeport. Freeport cuisine was always a bit odd, because a bunch of islands with limited farmland meant a lot of the classic staples were out. Less bread, more breadfruit. The other side of things was that Freeport was a major trade hub, and one of the things traders from every side of the ocean brought with them was their food and culinary preferences. You could find reasonably authentic Equestrian, Gryphonian, Zebrican, or half a dozen other varieties of food in Freeport if you knew where to look. Or, as was the case with the Galleon Grill, you could find some crazy fusion of all of the above. The first item on the menu was a breadfruit pizza with some sort of spicy sauce that came from Zebrica and topped with shrimp. From there, the menu got weirder. I was so distracted by trying to figure out what to eat that I almost didn’t notice the suspiciously bland and uninteresting stallion sneaking up behind me. Sure enough, there was a carefully hidden green flash, and then Puzzle was back in one of his customary disguises. I’d never seen him in his actual changeling form, and I kinda had the impression that he didn’t like showing his real face. Something I could totally understand. Puzzle took a seat across from me, smiling politely. “This one apologizes for its tardiness. It had a rather troublesome client who demanded too much of its time.” “Hey, don’t worry about it.” I smirked at him. “You had a full fifteen seconds left before I would’ve walked out and dumped you. Plenty of time.” I threw out a quick change of subject to keep him on his hooves. “Nice job on the sneak-up, I almost didn't see you coming.” Puzzle followed the sudden shift in topic without any trouble, which was probably a sign that he was getting to know me way too well. He grinned and started looking over the menu. “This one did not want to be too stealthy. Frightening one’s date is hardly the best way to begin what this one hopes will be an enjoyable evening.” I smirked across the table. “Then why pretend to be somepony else until you were just a couple steps away from my table? That might’ve startled me.” Puzzle leaned back in his chair, chuckling. “Habit.” I couldn’t let that pass without comment. “Interesting habits you have.” “One acquires quite the esoteric assortment of daily rituals in this one’s line of work.” Puzzle’s eyes flicked around the room. “For example, this one spent a minute checking to ensure that it was not followed, and also to ensure that there were no eavesdropping spells or devices that might ruin the privacy of our conversation. And of course, enough observation to ensure that the Heartstrings-mare was who she claimed. This one has had quite enough of being fooled by changeling impersonators for the time being.” “Yeah, gotta be embarrassing to get skunked by changelings when you’re a changeling too. You bugs need to come up with a secret hoofshake or something to make sure that doesn’t happen anymore.” I was tempted to push him on the issue of his recent run-in with Chrysalis since Sunset had been mixed up in the middle of it, but I decided to hold off on that for the moment. I had the whole rest of the date to pin him down and make him squirm about one of his jobs ending with Sunset in the hospital. Besides, you always keep your target guessing and off balance. It was like one of my teachers said: ‘If knowledge is power, then to be unknowable is to be unconquerable.’ So instead of following up on that opening, I got back to the actual date, idly flipping through the menu. “So, I was thinking of trying the gaghracht, but I'm slightly deterred by the fact that I have no idea what that is.” Puzzle answered with a dry smile. “It's actually pretty good.” He paused, then amended, “Well, no—it actually tastes revolting, but you don’t eat it for the taste. What makes it good is the unique sensation of live bugs squirming around in your stomach after you swallow them.” “Oh.” Welcome to the hazards of multi-species and multicultural dining. Though I can’t believe even gryphons would eat something that gross. “I think I'll pass for now. In fact, if you tell me anything more about that stuff, I think I might just lose my appetite altogether.” I scanned the menu for something that sounded reasonably safe. “Here we go, fried breadfruit dolma with acuka sauce. Menu says you can get it vegetarian or with meat, so I should be safe on that front.” Puzzle grinned approvingly. “Ah, going for a Zebrican twist on your dish? This one finds acuka sauce a bit spicy for its tastes, though they might use a milder version than this one’s parents enjoyed. Or if the Heartstrings-mare would prefer something safer, traditional Zebrican dolma is served with tomato sauce and garlic. Though traditional Zebrican cuisine also uses peppers or eggplant instead of breadfruit, so...” “Think I’ll stick with the way it is on the menu.” I didn’t know anywhere near enough about Zebrican cuisine to start customising my dishes. “If it turns out too spicy for me, at least I won't be bored. So what’re you getting?” Puzzle tapped his chin thoughtfully. “This one will get the Freeport Kaniyarik. Even if it uses fish and a few other local touches, the rest of the ingredients are authentic Zebrican, and those may become considerably more expensive in the near future. This one would prefer to enjoy such pleasures while it still can.” From what I knew of Puzzle’s financial resources, the price of Zebrican spices doubling wouldn’t have any impact on his ability to enjoy all his favorite dishes. However, his casual remark made it clear he wanted to talk shop. “So if we’re talking spice prices, I guess that means you heard the news about Prince Sulei.” My date nodded. “This one imagines that it heard the news at the same time as the Heartstrings-mare, if not sooner. It does have many contacts in Zebrica, while the Heartstrings-mare’s responsibilities with the EIS are largely focused upon Freeport itself.” “Yeah, but even in the EIS ponies talk.” I shrugged. “Besides, it’s not like the death of the Zebrican crown prince was gonna be a secret for very long anyway. It’ll probably be all over the newspapers by tomorrow morning—the day after at the latest. The guys at the Zebrican desk wouldn’t stop speculating about how this is gonna play out.” “The heir to the throne dying so suddenly and mysteriously does tend to cause no shortage of political chaos,” Puzzle agreed. “Even moreso if he didn’t die of natural causes,” I chimed in. “If we assume foul play, it’s not hard to figure out who our prime suspects should be. I mean, maybe his siblings got lucky and he randomly fell over dead because of a blood clot in his brain or something. But...” “This one wouldn't bet any coin on it,” Puzzle nodded along. “It is something of a flaw in any system where inheritance passes down the family line. The younger brothers and sisters have a great deal to gain by the elder’s death.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully, then shrugged. “Of course, it makes little difference whether Sulei died naturally or was murdered so long as the killer is not caught. What matters is that he is dead, and now the succession is an open question.” “Which means everyone’s gonna be nervous until things settle down,” I agreed. “Nobody likes doing business in a place that might have a civil war soon. Merchants make fewer trips to Zebrica, Zebrican goods get more expensive. Basic supply and demand.” Puzzle grimaced. “Considering how succession crises usually go in the Empire, that is quite prudent. No merchant captain wants to have their vessel forcibly conscripted into running supplies for a claimant’s army, or seized and converted into a warship. Far safer to stay away until the dust settles.” “Yeah...” I decided to dig for a little information. “So who do you think will come out on top once the crisis is over? Ozgur’s the oldest, and everyone at the embassy was saying he’s pretty popular at court. But Batur won those border skirmishes with Gryphonia, and the army’s loved him ever since then.” My date nodded thoughtfully. “Popularity and legal claims are all well and good, but if it becomes a civil war, this one would be inclined to bet on the one with an army. If he wins the war all the pragmatists will flock to his side quickly enough, and a suitable legal pretext for deposing his brother will be found or invented.” He had a point, but he was only seeing part of the picture. Or, probably more likely, testing to see if I would only see part of the picture. “I wouldn't rule out the popular guy. He might not have his own army right now, but he has lots of friends at court—friends with money, power, and influence. With friends like that, he can get his own army pretty quickly.” Puzzle grinned, and I caught the barest hint of approval in his expression. “Especially if he starts hiring mercenaries, and Freeport has plenty of those. And just like that, Zebrica’s internal problems become a matter of concern for Freeport as well. Especially since Batur will have to make some effort to impede his brother’s recruitment, either by hiring mercenaries of his own to balance out Ozgur or at least encouraging a few of the major players to remain neutral.” “Sounds like it’s gonna be a seller’s market for mercs,” I agreed. “I mean, if some of them can get Batur to pay them just for not signing up with Ozgur ... yeah, any time you can get someone to hire you to literally do nothing, you’re in a pretty good spot.” I frowned as I realized where this conversation might be headed. “I bet Ozgur is gonna be eager to get Freeport’s one and only magus on his side, isn’t he?” “If it came to war, I am sure the Shimmer-mare would receive an offer from one or both sides.” Puzzle paused, then shook his head. “This one will do what it can to dissuade her from becoming involved in the matter. It does not believe that the Shimmer-mare should become involved in a Zebrican civil war. Such affairs are messy, brutal, and...” “It’d be bad for her,” I finished. “I’m a lot happier with Sunset hunting down monsters and warlocks. Y’know, clear-cut black-and-white bad guys.” I thought about that right after I said it, and hoped Puzzle took that as situational irony rather than unintentional speciesism. “Throw her into an ugly, morally questionable civil war and she’s a lot more likely to start going down a bad path again.” She’d already played around with some magic I knew for a fact Celestia didn’t want her touching. I really didn’t want to do anything that might encourage her to keep doing that. Trying to arrest her had nearly pushed her into full-on warlockdom, and a civil war was a lot more stressful than being arrested. In a strange sort of way, I’d gotten pretty fond of old haybacon-mane. Yeah, she has a massive ego, a gigantic sense of entitlement, and a moral compass shaky enough to make me worry, but nopony’s perfect. After all, I’m a morally bankrupt secret agent and a pathological liar. Or am I lying about that, too? Sometimes even I have a hard time keeping it all straight. My eyes fixed upon Puzzle. “Looks like we’re on the same page anyway. No zebra civil wars for Sunset.” My eyes narrowed, and I went in for that kill I’d been holding off on. “Of course, I also thought we were on the same page when it came to not throwing her into a deathtrap and letting her nearly get killed, so who knows?” Puzzle’s ears went flat, and a faintly annoyed flicker shot across his face. “Ah. This one was wondering when you would bring that up.” “It is my job to keep an eye on Sunset,” I pointed out. “Seriously, that’s pretty much it. I’m pretty sure the only reason I even got assigned to dealing with the Black Codex was because my boss wanted to bring in Sunset. Well, he didn’t say he wanted to, but I know how to read between the lines. Kinda a must-have skill in this profession.” I waited a moment, then suddenly shifted back to the real subject. “You put Sunset in the hospital. That makes my bosses mad, and when something makes them mad they tend do something about it. Something mean.” This time the annoyed grimace stuck around instead of vanishing after half a second. “This one did not put her in the hospital. The Heartstrings-mare can thank the Old Mind for that. And she was only there for two days, mostly for observation.” “That’s how it turned out this time, yeah.” I leaned back, my relaxed body language deliberately at odds with the topic. “Just gotta say, part of the understanding we had was that you'd keep her in one piece. Nearly getting her killed is kinda just about the exactly opposite of that.” One of Puzzle’s ears twitched, another rare tell that I was actually starting to get under his skin. Carapace. Whatever. “This one does not need to have it spelled out. However, this one is hardly responsible for everything that can happen. It has done the best it can under the circumstances, but it could hardly have anticipated that the Old Mind would go to such lengths to lure the two of us into an ambush.” A faint hint of wounded pride slipped into his voice. “It would hope that the Heartstrings-mare could appreciate the lengths that it went to in order to save the Shimmer-mare’s life. At considerable risk to its own, this one will add.” I decided to shift to playing the reasonable mare. “Hey, I totally get it. Sometimes things just get crazy in the field, and sometimes even the best fixer in Freeport gets outmaneuvered. The important thing is you bounced back and got her out in one piece. But all my superiors see is—” Puzzle cut me off with a flat, annoyed look. “Hiding behind your superiors again?” I did my best to look genuinely confused. “Who's hiding? I’m just a low-level operative. I get orders and follow them.” Puzzle’s eyes narrowed further. “Blaming one's superiors is a common tactic for those that wish to deflect responsibilities for their actions. Especially when one's superiors are treated as a vague, nebulous presence instead of naming specific parties.” Despite the situation, I found myself grinning. “Are you suggesting that whenever I need to be a hardflank I just say I’m following orders from my bosses? Which would allow me to be a jerk while pretending I'm still a nice sympathetic pony who’s really on your side? That maybe I don’t even have bosses, and I’m directly reporting to Celestia herself? It would make sense for an operative keeping an eye on somepony she has such a keen personal interest in.” I gave him just long enough to mull that over before pulling the rug out from under him. “Of course, that would mean, like, seventy-five percent of everything I’ve ever told you is a lie. And really, I’m a bit young to be a solo operative taking my orders directly from royalty. And while Celestia is interested in Sunset, she also knows how to delegate. Plus having to take all my orders from Canterlot isn’t all that practical when it’s a two week boat ride just to get to Equestria.” Puzzle weathered the storm, ignoring all the random thoughts I’d tossed out and sticking to the matter at hoof. “Regardless of the details, this one is quite certain that the Heartstrings-mare sometimes attributes actions to her superiors that are entirely her own ideas. And it notes that those actions are always when she feels the need to be less than friendly to this one or the Shimmer-mare.” “Accusing me of lying.” I leaned back in my chair and propped my legs up on the table, ignoring the glare that earned me from the waiter. “Interesting dating tactic. Though I should probably warn you, it’s not impressing me too much. Hope you’re stocked up on thymoplasm, because at this rate you’re not even getting a goodnight peck on the cheek.” To his credit, Puzzle recognized a wall of distracting horseapples when he saw it. “This one has some experience in the field of deception. It's almost like this one is some sort of information broker and has seen such tactics used in the past by others.” I smirked playfully at him. “Is that a nice way of saying my tactics are out of date?” “Oh, hardly.” He grinned at me. “More like they're a classic that gets reused time and again because they work so well against the uninitiated. Though like most classic maneuvers, they do lose their effectiveness against an old veteran like this one. Lies are only effective so long as the subject does not realize they’re being lied to.” “Unless I'm double-bluffing you,” I countered. “Make you think I’m lying when I’m really telling the truth. Let’s face it, jerk bosses are a real thing.” He chuckled and shook his head. “Ah, but that type of thinking leads to madness, dear lovely Strumming. If you keep that up, you will think yourself right into a pretzel.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “There is an old saying among this one’s kind that seems relevant: ‘A thousand masks bring forth the fog, but fog blinds all equally.’ More than one Free Mind has become so immersed in impersonation that they forgot their true self. There are times this one wonders if the same will happen to the Heartstrings-mare. And for so little reason, too.” My eyes narrowed suspiciously. “For so little reason? What’s that supposed to mean?” Puzzle smiled indulgently, like a parent humoring a child. “You are not so inscrutable as you think, Heartstrings-mare. This one has seen your tactics in action before: surrounding yourself in a web of lies so thick that none could ever hope to untangle it. It can be effective, but in this one’s experience, it often leads to one being captured in their own web. It ends in madness as one struggles to distinguish their own lies from the truth.” “Interesting theory you’ve got there,” I grunted out. “By all means, prove this one wrong.” Puzzle leaned back in his seat, waiting patiently. “Tell this one the honest truth about your feelings towards it. Or the Shimmer-mare. Not whichever image you feel is most suited to your current circumstance, the simple truth. This one would submit that you would find it difficult to do so. Not because you do not trust this one, but because your lies have already tangled upon each other so badly that you are badly confused. Is this one your enemy in a struggle for influence over Sunset? A potential asset to be negotiated with? Your lover? A fool you attempt to manipulate with the promise of affections?” “This is getting boring.” I thought about saying I needed a restroom break, but I didn’t want to give Puzzle the satisfaction of making me walk away. “Seriously, I’m barely keeping my eyes open. I never would’ve figured you for such a boring date.” “This one notes that its questions have all gone unanswered,” Puzzle declared, a hint of satisfaction in his voice. “Well it’s a pretty stupid question,” I grumbled under my breath. “Like I’d tell you all of that stuff just because you asked.” “This one hardly thinks the question valueless.” He sighed and shook his head. “You have gone to such efforts to become an enigma that you are even a mystery to yourself. And in the end it was all for nothing, for this one can still see through your lies when it sets its mind to it.” “Y’know, you’re starting to piss me off,” I growled. “Seriously, where do you get off thinking you know so much? You don’t know anything about me.” “This one knows you quite well, Heartstrings-mare,” the changeling answered levelly. “In fact, it may even know you better than you know yourself. Not that such a thing is difficult to manage in your current state.” I tried to come up with a good answer to that, but for once I was at a loss for words. Much as I hated to admit it, he had managed to get past my defenses. Anyone who knew me well would know I lied all the time just as a lifestyle choice, but Puzzle had figured out a lot more than that. What did I think of the bug sitting across the table from me, anyway? At the moment I was mostly annoyed with him. And ... maybe a little bit scared. I’d known Puzzle was good—maybe even better than me—but I’d never thought the gap was that large. He wasn’t just better at the spy game than I was, he was a lot better than me. And if he’d gotten into my head enough to figure me out, who knows how much deeper he could go? And the worst part was, I still didn’t have him anything close to figured out. Sure, I knew a couple little things. I knew he was very well connected to the Council. Enough to make me strongly suspect that at least one of the Council members was a Free Mind he was closely acquainted with. I also knew he had a bit of a beef with Chrysalis, though that was no surprise considering the history between her and the Free Minds. I knew he had a lot of professional pride. But that was all surface stuff. The deep stuff that really mattered was still out of reach. I was so lost in thought that I almost didn’t notice when the waiter dropped our food off. Almost. The meal was at least a welcome distraction, even if Puzzle had been right about how spicy the sauce was. Puzzle must have picked up on my mood, because once we’d both tucked away most of our food he reached across the table and gave me a friendly pat on the shoulder. “Take some time to think about the points this one raised, Heartstrings-mare. You might have twisted yourself into a pretzel, but this one believes that you can straighten yourself out. Especially if you let others help you with the task.” I let out a soft sigh of relief as the conversation got back to safer territory. “I bet you'd make a cute pretzel. Can you transform into one?” The changeling chuckled and shook his head. “Sorry, but this one isn't quite that flexible. Not to mention the problems of mass shifting—this one would make a very heavy and unappetizing pretzel. This one can always buy you a proper pretzel later. Something for dessert once we finish with dinner, perhaps?” I grinned eagerly, already feeling better about this. “Oooh. See, this is why I let you take me out on dates. You buy me food.” “It is part of the dating experience,” Puzzle agreed with a dry smile. “Not to mention it's always a good idea to know what makes your date happy.” “So does that make me a bad date?” I challenged. “Because while I have a few ideas, I still don’t know everything that makes you tick.” “This one would say much the same about the Heartstrings-mare.” That remark buoyed up my spirits a bit, though I couldn’t help but think that part of why he didn’t have me completely figured out was because I didn’t have me completely figured out. Puzzle continued on, seeming oblivious to my private thoughts. “In any case, this one would hardly consider it a bad thing for you to be so easily pleased.” “Easily pleased?” I shot him a smirk that promised retribution. “I think you might want to find a better way to phrase that.” Puzzle threw up his hooves in mock-surrender. “This one would hardly wish to displease its date. Though perhaps this one should also take back that necklace that caught your eye at the market last week? It would not wish to give the Heartstrings-mare cause to think that it was trying to gain undue influence over her.” Oh, so that’s how he wanted to play it? “Go ahead. Try and take it. I dare you.” “This one wouldn't dare,” Puzzle quickly conceded. “That might result in this one losing a limb. And it is quite fond of all of its limbs.” “Well then, don't imply that I'm easy.” “This one is sure the Heartstrings-mare is well aware that it did not intend to imply anything of the sort.” A wry smile shot across his lips. “After all, this one has yet to receive so much as a goodnight kiss, despite taking the Heartstrings-mare out on more than three dates.” I chuckled. “It’s enough to make me wonder why you keep trying.” “This one enjoys the company and conversation,” he answered simply. “Not to mention dining out is far more enjoyable when it is a shared experience. This one has always found going to a restaurant alone to be somewhat depressing.” “Oh, so I’m just the equine version of mood lighting?” I snatched up a leftover pit of breadfruit and chucked it at him, bouncing it right off his muzzle. A second later I playfully scowled at him. “Now look at what you made me do. You made me waste food.” “Yes, this one is terribly inconsiderate like that,” Puzzle deadpanned. “This one should not have forced the Heartstrings-mare to throw food at it. It will have to do better in the future.” “Darn right you will,” I mock-grumbled. “This one will try to remind itself that there are hungry children somewhere that would love to have a piece of food like that,” Puzzle continued. “This one has often found that it should think of the children when considering its actions. It does aspire to be a good role model, though it would hope no child would try to emulate its actions.” “But because of you, they'll go hungry.” I gave him a teasing poke under the table. “You terrible, food-wasting monster.” Puzzle heaved out a put-upon sigh. “This one tries so hard to not be a monster...” I smirked and poked him again. “Yeah, I can te—” And that’s when the evening went completely off the rails in the most insane manner imaginable. Well okay, someone could probably come up with something crazier than a wild-eyed, shabbily dressed one-eared zebra storming into the restaurant and shouting out an insane speech. But you have to admit, that’s pretty weird. So yeah, crazy zebra guy came barging into the restaurant. “VENGANCE!” he shrieked at the top of his lungs. Then he lifted up a large jar of amber liquid with something black floating in it. After a couple seconds, I realized it was an ear. Presumably the same ear that was missing from his head. Yeah, for some reason he’d saved his own severed ear and carried it around preserved in a jar. Guess he just couldn’t let it go. “Five years ago!” the crazy one-eared zebra shouted. “Five years ago, today! In this very spot! On that day, and in this place, a group of gryphon barbarians cut off one of my ears simply to satisfy their depraved bloodlust! And yet, there has been no justice for this crime! The criminals have not been punished, nor has the gryphon government offered to pay any reparations to me for my pain and suffering. How long will this injustice be allowed to stand?! How long with the citizens of Freeport suffer under the...” He continued ranting for quite a while, but I’d stopped paying attention. He’d pretty much already said enough for me to get the general idea. He was pissed off about losing his ear. Everything else was just a bunch of speechifying, and not even very good speechifying. Only so many ways one can say ‘I lost my ear and that makes me angry.’ Puzzle groaned and ran one of his hooves down his face. “Not him again...” I chuckled at the sheer absurdity of it all. “Let me guess: the five year anniversary of him losing his ear isn’t the first time he’s made a fuss over it?” “It’s a rather regular occurrence,” Puzzle agreed. “The Sefu-stallion lost an ear to some gryphon thugs in a bar brawl—one that he started, by all reports. Despite that, he hasn't let it go.” His eyes flicked to the severed ear, which Sefu the Crazy Zebra was currently waving above his head. “Literally, in this case. Every few weeks he turns up at the marketplace or a restaurant, or really anywhere he can find an audience, and starts ranting. Usually the condottieri or bouncers deal with him pretty quickly. This one is surprised they are taking so long here.” “Probably because he brought backup this time.” I waved towards a pair of rather impressively bulky zebras flanking Sefu. Zebras who’d replaced the usual white stripes of their species with red ones. “Am I seeing things, or are those Blood Stripes?” The changeling’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, their uniform is rather distinctive. Now that is curious. The Blood Stripes do not sell their services cheaply. Sefu could bribe a few officials to reopen his case for less than it would cost to hire them.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “And there’s the question of why the Blood Stripes would even take a contract like this. Acting as bodyguards to a raving lunatic is not the most prestigious of contracts, and it’s likely to offend the condottieri.” “He is disturbing our meal,” I agreed. “And those of a lot of others.” He nodded towards a family dining a couple tables over where the parents were trying to tell their child not to worry about the crazy shouting zebra. “If someone from this restaurant isn't running to get the guard right now, this one would be surprised. And this one is not the only significant individual in Freeport society who frequents the Galleon Grill.” “Let’s hope things don’t get messy.” Sunset was my main focus, but since she’d started doing mercenary work in Freeport I’d done my homework about who she might be working with and/or against. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but aren't the Blood Stripes pretty heavy hitters? Fond of playing around with alchemy, including some stuff the zebras back in Zebrica don’t like to mess with.” Puzzle nodded grimly. “They're very serious. The potions they use make them quite a bit stronger than the average mercenary, but there are reasons respectable Zebrican alchemists don’t touch them. Most of the potions come with unpleasant side effects, from long-term health problems to mental instability. Though the Blood Stripes do not view all of those issues as problems. They prefer a reputation of brutal effectiveness to the more honorable image embraced by the Doos and Strikers.” “Whatever their rep is, they don't come cheap.” I scowled at the crazy one-eared zebra. “Which begs the question of how he can afford them.” “Now that is the question of the hour,” Puzzle agreed, his attention firmly on the two hired goons. “This one can think of several explanations, but few of them bode well. Unless Sefu stumbled upon a sudden windfall, someone else is paying his bills—someone with enough money and influence to convince the Blood Stripes to play bodyguard to a small-time agitator.” “Mercs don’t work for free,” I agreed. “Goes against the whole point of being a mercenary. Somebody’s paying them. Think we oughta do some digging and find out who?” Puzzle grinned, showing me his fangs. “As the Heartstrings-mare just said, mercenaries do not work for free. If the EIS wishes to obtain this one’s services, it would be willing to discuss a reasonable fee.” I rolled my eyes. “Please. I’m not hiring you, we’re just doing a little bit of joint investigation.” Puzzle’s smile widened, to the point where I wondered if he was using some changeling trick to make such a huge grin fit on his face. “And why would this one perform an investigation for free?” I might not have Puzzle completely figured out, but I did know a few things. “First off, because you’re as curious about who’s bankrolling Sefu as I am.” Puzzle nodded concedingly. “This one will concede that the Heartstrings-mare is correct on that point. This one is terribly curious by nature.” I counted off the next point on my hooves. “Secondly, because sometimes information brokering involves making an investment. Some rich guy’s paying off Sefu. Most rich guys have enemies, and those enemies might pay a lot of money to know their rival’s stirring up the sort of trouble that could bring the condottieri down on them.” “The Heartstrings-mare’s logic is sound,” Puzzle agreed. I grinned eagerly. “So ... it sounds like we’re gonna investigate.” Puzzle answered my grin in kind. “This one believes we are.” “Awesome.” I grinned and clapped my hooves. “You always take me out on the best dates.” Puzzle chuckled and leaned back in his chair. “So the best dates involve investigating a potential zebra conspiracy? Well, at least the Strumming-mare can never accuse this one of being boring.” Puzzle and I went our separate ways after dessert, each of us heading off to do our own style of investigation. Granted, a big chunk of my ‘investigation’ consisted of asking my co-workers if they knew anything. Going over a bunch of paperwork and engaging in office gossip might not be the stuff of romantic spy fiction, but it was a good way to get information. The EIS had suffered its share of embarrassing goof-ups, finding out after the fact that we’d had all the facts needed to prevent some feather-up but nopony had gotten around to putting all the pieces together. It was entirely possible that one my co-workers was sitting on the answer to my little mystery and just had no idea that it was an important piece of information. I also had to clear the job with my supervisor. I’ll avoid mentioning whether I was reporting directly to the Big Sun herself or just a mid-level EIS bureaucrat. Either way, the op was approved so long as I didn’t do anything too crazy during it. After all, Equestria did have an interest in figuring out who was trying to stir up trouble between Gryphonia and Zebrica, plus it would help me work my way a bit closer into Puzzle’s confidence. Unfortunately I wasn’t that lucky. I got a couple interesting little factoids that painted a fascinating picture if you made a couple reasonable assumptions, but nothing decisive. Of course, I still hadn’t compared notes with Puzzle; maybe he’d figured the whole thing out, or maybe we’d got a complete picture when we combined what he knew with what I did. Since we were technically kinda-sorta business partners in this venture, I figured there wouldn’t be any problem with me showing up at Puzzle’s office during business hours. It wasn’t the first time I’d been there, but Puzzle got a bit grumpy if I showed up for purely personal reasons. He was the type to keep a wall between his business life and his personal life. Which seemed a little oddly naive to me; it’s not like Chrysalis, warlocks, or any of the other bad guys would keep things strictly professional if they ever went after him. Puzzle’s office looked more like what you’d expect from a high-powered attorney than a mercenary information broker. Probably part of that whole clean professional image Puzzle liked to keep up. It was a pretty common image for the more respectable mercs who dealt with the rich and powerful—try to make their clients think they weren’t so different after all, and put them at ease. I’m admittedly not a rich idiot, but I’d hope that if I was I wouldn’t be stupid enough to think that just because a mercenary could quote Platrot or Aristrotle and knew what type of wine went well with a fancy dinner changed the fact that said merc was still ... well, a merc. As in, someone who would gladly gut me if offered enough money. After a couple words with Puzzle’s very polite and very professional secretary, who very politely and professionally had a loaded crossbow with a poison-tipped bolt hidden beneath her desk, I got to go in and talk to the big bug himself. Puzzle had several large books on his desk, and was busily looking them over as I trotted in and flopped into one of the nearby seats. “Hey. Your secretary let me in. She seems nice.” Puzzle looked up from his books and shot me a quick smile. “Merry Penny does a good job. That is why this one retains her services.” I was in a good mood, so I reached over and poked him in the side. “Also helps that she’s a bit old, and not cute enough that I need to worry about you.” Puzzle responded with a single raised eyebrow. “Oh? Worried about having some competition?” “Nah, just keeping you honest.” Though I wasn’t really sure how that kind of thing worked in relationships between a changeling and a pony anyway. After all, Puzzle still needed to feed, and there was no way in Tartarus I was letting him feed on me. And while changeling feeding didn’t have to involve anything sexual, it certainly could. Puzzle must have figured out what I was thinking, because he grinned and leaned back in his large, high-backed chair. “Now what type of love-sucking bug do you think this one is?” I smirked back at him. “The type who's too sneaky for his own good?” Puzzle let out a fake gasp, one hoof flying to his chest and resting over his heart. “Heartstrings-mare! You wound this one!” I couldn’t help snickering at his antics. “You know it's true.” The changeling answered with a dry smile. “This one didn't say it was much of a wound.” This time I was the one letting out a fake gasp, crossing my forelegs over my chest. “Oh, so my feelings don't matter to you? How insensitive...” Puzzle rolled his eyes, though the faint grin on his face gave away the game. “Of course they do. Must this one purchase the Heartstrings-mare an elaborate bouquet of flowers to show its affection, or perhaps hire a troupe of singers to serenade her with songs professing its undying love and devotion? This one would like to think it has shown its consideration many times. How could the Heartstrings-mare ever suggest this one does not care about you?” I deadpanned, “Because I'm a very cynical, untrusting pony?” “That would explain it,” Puzzle agreed, matching my emotionless tone. “Still, this one would like to think it can make you happy.” “Well, you're doing okay so far.” Buying me food and helping me do the whole spy thing was a pretty good start. “So how'd your end of the investigation go?” Puzzle looked down at the thick ledgers covering his desk and scowled. “This one’s investigation has made some progress, but not nearly as much as it would have liked. This one was able to gain access to the World’s Port Bank and see their records, but funny enough, the Blood Stripes aren’t keen on letting just anyone know who is paying them to do illicit jobs.” He waved a hoof over the books. “Almost all of their incoming payments are being filtered through dummy corporations and shell companies rather than coming directly from the client, which makes finding out who is paying them for any specific job difficult.” “Gee, it's almost like a lot of their clients don't want it known that they do business with a bunch of rough, nasty mercs.” Not that I’d been expecting the bank records to include an invoice for all their jobs, but I’d been hoping for something out of it. “I'm guessing sorting through their records to untangle all the different shell companies involved would take a long time?” Puzzle grimly nodded along. “Weeks, if not months. This one would recommend hiring a specialist in forensic accounting to see to it, but even once that was done, knowing their client list would only be the first step. We still wouldn’t know what the clients were paying them for, so we couldn’t prove who hired them to work with Sefu.” “Joy.” I sighed and ran a hoof through my mane. “I don't suppose you found anything that'd give us results a bit faster?” “Not where this case is concerned,” he confirmed. “Though the financial records might be of use in several other matters. However, this one suspects that waiting months for results is not something the Heartstrings-mare wishes to do. Nor does this one, in truth. Sefu does not seem to be the most rational of actors. It would prefer to conclude its investigation before anything unfortunate happens.” “He does seem to be working pretty hard to stir something up,” I agreed. “Odds are he’s gonna succeed sooner or later; if nothing else works, he can start having his hired thugs beat up some random gryphons.” That would definitely stir up tension, even if it also brought the condottieri down on him. But a crazy guy who carried his own severed ear around in a jar probably wouldn’t be thinking that far ahead. “I didn’t come up with any solid leads either. Though I did come up with something like a working theory of who might be responsible. No ironclad evidence, but it could help narrow down the suspect list.” Puzzle nodded along. “Go on, then.” I took a moment to make sure I had everything straight before diving in. “Well, we've got a group of exclusively zebra mercenaries helping out a zebra agitator at the same time there’s a budding political crisis in Zebrica. Maybe I'm jumping to conclusions, but the word ‘zebra’ came up an awful lot of times in that sentence.” “It's a pattern at least,” Puzzle agreed, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “This one supposes that it could all be unrelated. Sefu’s cause makes it unlikely that any mixed mercenary group would support him, and this is hardly the first time Zebrica has undergone a succession crisis. There is no proof that two events are linked.” He paused, glancing down at the ledgers. “However, while this one cannot say for sure until the Blood Stripes’ records have been fully processed, it will note that the majority of companies and individuals giving money to the mercenary company appear to have ties to the Zebrican Empire. Small surprise, given the nature of the organization.” “Figures that a zebra merc group does a lot of business with their homeland.” Even if they were a bunch of mean, nasty guys, they still had stripes. “So, let's do some investigation 101. First question you always ask in an investigation is who benefits from the crime, right?” Puzzle nodded in confirmation. “So then, who in the Zebrican Empire stands to gain from having some loony stirring up tensions between Zebrica and Gryphonia? If we assume that this is linked to the succession problems in Zebrica, one name jumps out: a certain Zebrican prince who needs to boost his popularity with the nobility, and whose main claim to fame is leading his army in a bunch of border skirmishes with the gryphons.” “A victorious general would certainly see his prestige and popularity increase substantially,” Puzzle agreed. “Not to mention that if the sultan dies before the war ends, many of the nobles would find a military veteran much more appealing as the new monarch.” He idly tapped a hoof on his desk. “Though nothing is certain in war, and a defeat would destroy his chances. And even in victory, such an individual would risk weakening his army right before a potential civil war.” “True. But then, taking chances is part of the political game.” I shrugged and leaned back in my chair. “Besides, he doesn’t even really need a full-scale war. A few incidents and some increased tensions would be enough to make people think that maybe the general’s a better pick than the guy who’s never led an army in his life.” “The theory is reasonable,” Puzzle agreed. “Though of course it’s only a theory. There are other potential explanations.” “Yeah, mine’s just the most straightforward one.” I smirked at him. “I know the usual rule is that the simplest explanation is usually the right one, but I don’t think that applies to politics and espionage. It could be one of the other zebra royals setting this up to try to make it look like Batur's the one stirring up trouble. Paint him as a warmonger, and he’ll have a hard time making his claim to the throne look like anything more than ‘I want it and I have an army.’ Could be Ozgur trying to knock out his main rival, or one of the smaller players like Princess Zanza hoping that she can sweep up Batur’s support if he’s out of the running.” “Or it might not be related to Zebrican politics at all,” Puzzle continued. “It could be that the gryphons are trying to cause an incident they can blame on Zebrica to gain the moral high ground. Or someone local who just wants to stir up trouble for their own reasons. This one can imagine many convoluted schemes, or something as simple as anti-gryphon or zebra prejudice.” “Yeah, and probably some other things we haven’t thought of.” I grimaced. “Though for what it's worth, my gut says that it’s tied to the succession.” “A pity gut feelings are not enough to constitute proof,” Puzzle remarked dryly. “Yeah. We need solid evidence, and we need to find it reasonably fast.” I decided to float out a mildly insane plan. “I can only think of one place to go that would have all the answers we need: the Blood Stripes themselves.” Puzzle frowned, but nodded after a couple seconds. “Hmm, agreed. This one would be very surprised if none of them knew something of their client’s true identity. At the very least, they could point us to whatever agent is facilitating payment and serving as a go-between for them and their client.” “Which is a much more solid link than trying to decode their accounts.” And more importantly, the kind of link we could do something about right now. “So seems to me like our options are to either wait months for your specialist or pay the Stripes a visit sometime soon.” “The Blood Stripes would hardly just tell us what we want to know. We would have to get at their records without their approval.” Puzzle frowned and murmured halfheartedly, “It would be much safer to leave it to this one’s specialist.” “Assuming we can afford months of inaction while we slowly run down the money trail.” I grinned and leaned forward, resting my hooves on the desk. “It’s definitely worth handing the books over to your accountant—pursue all avenues of investigation—but I think we need to take a chance on this one. It might not be the safest option, but I don’t think you became the most influential information broker in Freeport by playing it safe all the time.” “Nor did this one do so by taking needless risks.” Puzzle left me hanging for just long enough to make me a little nervous, then continued. “However, in this it believes that the risk is not needless, and the rewards justify it.” “Cool.” I reached across the table and playfully bapped his nose. “You can't accuse me of being a boring date.” Puzzle grinned at me. “No, this one can't. However, while this one is willing to undertake a measure of risk, it only seems prudent to take measures to reduce that risk as much as possible. To start with, we need insurance.” “What sort of insurance?” “The type that pulls your rear out of trouble when you go knocking at the door of a bunch of dangerous mercenaries,” Puzzle answered dryly. “This one has already found itself in far too many dangerous situations without any backup. It would not care to repeat the experience at any point in the near future. Or distant future. In fact, it would be quite happy to die of old age without ever having such an experience again.” “Gotcha.” Hard to argue with his reasoning. “So who do you have in mind for our backup?” “For one, we could hire on the Shimmer-mare to help us.” He sighed when I immediately scowled at him for mentioning Sunset. “This one is well aware that it is not a risk-free proposition, but she is going to need experience. One does not become a battle magus without going into battle. Best it be while we're both present giving her ... adult supervision. Besides, the Heartstrings-mare seemed willing enough to utilize her services in the past.” “Yeah, I did.” Which did make it a bit hard for me to get all high and mighty about hiring her again. Sure, dealing with the Black Codex had been a bit more serious than this case, but it still made me look a bit hypocritical. I tried a slightly different approach. “I probably ought to point out that subtle, sneaky investigation really isn't her thing.” “This one agrees.” A faint grin flickered across his face. “She does have her sneaky moments, but thus far they have only been moments. However, it still thinks she could provide backup while we perform the actual mission. She won't be going in unless there's trouble.” “Ahhh.” I nodded along. “So less her sneaking around with us, and more that if things go bad she comes charging in setting everything on fire like a massive blunt object? Yeah, that definitely sounds like something she could do.” Puzzle smirked. “Don't tell the Shimmer-mare that to her face, of course.” “Perish the thought.” I liked the mare, but her pride was only slightly less sensitive than a ... well, than something that’s really sensitive. Not many things are sensitive as the pride of an emotionally unstable teenager with abandonment issues and a real wicked temper. “And of course, we should hire a few other mercenaries known for their reliability to stay with her,” Puzzle continued. “She is a magus, but still only a single mare. She needs somepony to watch her back.” “Not gonna argue with you there.” Last I’d heard, there wasn’t a spell to put eyes in the back of your own head. “Have anyone in mind? I’m gonna guess the Doos.” “The Shimmer-mare does have a good working relationship with them on account of her apprentice,” Puzzle confirmed. “Their services do not come cheaply, even to friends, but a single night providing emergency backup should not be too expensive.” I pointedly looked around his richly decorated office. “I'm sure you can afford them.” Puzzle responded with something that was halfway between a shrug and a nod. “So this one can. And this one thinks paying a premium is quite reasonable when our lives could very well depend on the quality and loyalty of our mercenaries. It values its own life quite highly.” “Mine too, I’d hope.” “But of course,” Puzzle agreed with a charming smile. “Though naturally this one would prefer to avoid the kind of trouble that would require their help in the first place.” “That's the plan.” Of course, it’s an old saying that no plan survives contact with the enemy. But then, that was why Puzzle was arranging our backup in the first place. “And most importantly, we can figure out what's really going on here.” Puzzle shut his ledgers and set them to the side. “So then, let us begin planning our break-in...”