//------------------------------// // 14 - Rock This Town // Story: The Other Side of the Horizon // by Rambling Writer //------------------------------// “What about this one?” Spike asked, holding up another necklace. “I, I don’t know,” said Twilight. “It looks nice, but I don’t want to spend any of Inkosi’s money on frivolous things.” Spike rolled his eyes. “She’s the king, Twi. She’s got so much money that spending bits on this-” “Spending lijamu. They don’t use bits here.” “Whatever. It’s just that whatever we spend here will be a drop in the bucket compared to what she has.” “I know, but…” “We could just take it,” said Spike. “Diplomatic immunity.” (The shopkeeper’s eye twitched again and she clenched her jaw even more tightly.) Twilight sighed and rubbed her forehead. “For the sixth time, that’s not what diplomatic immunity’s for.” “So?” “And besides, anyone who would use diplomatic immunity like that doesn’t deserve it in the first place.” “Yeah, but-” The shopkeeper cleared her throat. “Ma’am and sir. While I appreciate officials such as yourselves paying a visit to my humble store, your continued and already-rather-lengthy presence without making any advancement towards an actual purchase is trying my patience, and I would appreciate it if you made room for actual customers who genuinely wish to support my business.” Spike cocked his head. “Meaning…?” The shopkeeper sucked in a long breath between clenched teeth and let it through her nose. “Meaning get out or buy something and get out!” Twilight readied her tail for a flick to the nose in case Stormwalker tried to yell at the shopkeeper, but the most she heard was a light snort. She tried to smile at the shopkeeper. “One more minute, okay? Promise.” “Fine,” said the shopkeeper. “59. 58. 57.” They were in the central marketplace of Kulikulu’s Old Quarter and, true to Livingstone’s word, it was vibrant and hopping. Zebras were everywhere, taking up so much space that Spike sometimes had to ride on Twilight’s back to keep from getting trampled underhoof. The crowd was only giving them space in the most technical sense of the word, about two or three extra inches. Their clothes were spectacularly colorful, as if to make up for the drab black-and-whiteness of the zebras’ coats. Reds and oranges were the most popular, but they covered the whole gamut of colors and styles, enough to make Rarity swoon with glee several times over. They weren’t all cloth, either; Twilight was sure she spotted one zebra with an outfit made entirely out of snakeskin. And that wasn’t getting into the smells from the food, which were almost overpowering. The marketplace itself wasn’t that different from Ponyville’s, surprisingly; mostly, it was just bigger. A large courtyard constructed from stone, it felt much older than the skyscrapers of steel and glass on the other side of the city, and Twilight only knew the flickering lamps lighting the place up were electric because there was no way you could get a flame that small to be that bright. A few lucky zebras had their stores in the buildings surrounding the courtyard, but the majority of stores (such as the jeweler’s they were currently at) were semi-temporary stalls around the market. With the dense crowd and foundationless stalls, Twilight was sure it’d be a recipe for disaster, but nothing ever collapsed. The stalls themselves were also built to look old and did quite a good job at it, with only things like screws that had obviously been machined giving them away, and then only if you looked closely. The jeweler’s cart Twilight and Spike were perusing was fairly unassuming, but to Twilight’s eyes, the jewelry inside was just glamorous enough without being completely gaudy. It wasn’t all metal and gems, either; a surprising amount of the jewelry was made from wood or polished stone. The thought of wearing one of the necklaces at some formal occasion was appealing, even if she didn’t want to admit it. Inkosi had given them access to her own funds with some form of token stamp supposedly used by zebras at times in place of money — a form of credit, Twilight gathered. The token held a reservoir of ink inside it, and the edge was rolled across a finance record, stamping out the details of the buyer (in this case, Inkosi). However, although shopkeepers so far had accepted the marks readily enough, Twilight didn’t want to use them much, so as not to intrude on Inkosi’s hospitality. Stormwalker was watching over Twilight and Spike, while Livingstone was off with Cumulus, doing… something. Askari and Mtetezi were nowhere to be seen at the moment, but that didn’t bother Twilight much. They were, as Stormwalker had put it, the invisible bodyguards, while herself and Cumulus were the visible ones. Anyone looking to attack Twilight would obviously see Stormwalker and Cumulus, but would almost definitely miss Askari and Mtetezi. The two zebras were out in the crowd, doing ordinary crowd things and in the plainest clothes you could imagine, but never getting more than thirty feet from Twilight. Every now and then, she’d look around, check that they were still close, and she’d see Mtetezi haggling about a vase in the next shop over, or Askari sipping tea next to a fountain. She didn’t doubt the two of them were still close. “52,” continued the shopkeeper. “51.” “Come on, Twilight, pick something,” said Spike. “Quiet. I’m thinking.” She really was. After a few seconds, she was torn between a medallion inset with a few sapphires and a string necklace with a geometric wood carving dangling from it. The sapphires would go well with her coat and eyes, but she hadn’t seen anything quite like the wood necklace before. The shopkeeper’s patience seemed to have completely run out; she was drumming her hoof on the countertop and didn’t look the slightest bit interested in helping Twilight pick either. She’d definitely long passed the point at which Twilight, Spike, and Stormwalker ceased to interesting. “38. 37. 36.” At 31, Twilight had a brainwave and simply picked up both of them in her magic. “You know what? I’ll take both of these.” The shopkeeper was so absolutely done with it all that she didn’t even react to the use of magic. Instead, she simply shoved over the necklaces in a bag and took Inkosi’s token without complaint. “Very good thank you for shopping here have a nice day now please let other customers in thank you!” Twilight, Spike, and Stormwalker quickly slipped back into the crowd. In spite of their differences, no one seemed to be paying them much attention; there was just too much else going on. Twilight had a sneaking suspicion Inkosi herself could’ve walked through the marketplace and not gathered anything more than a few double-takes. “Both of them?” Spike asked. He grinned and nudged Twilight in the ribs. “You’re getting soft.” “Actually, I picked up this one-” Twilight held up the sapphire-studded one. “-for you. You can give it to Rarity when we get back.” Spike’s face lit up. “Really? Thanks!” He examined the necklace. “Yeah, she’d like that. Those are some really nice gems. Cool. Thanks.” Twilight smiled, but it faded quickly and she started looking around the crowd, trying to find Livingstone and Cumulus. Thanks to the zebras’ height, she could barely see anything. “I think we should meet back up with Livingstone and Cumulus. Just to be sure we’re all still okay.” Stormwalker nodded and whistled a short but complicated tune. It was, she’d explained earlier, a system of signals the guards had developed for quick communication. In spite of the noise of the crowd, it was quite piercing and traveled easily. A moment later, Askari slipped out of the crowd. “Quick update: haven’t seen anyone around that looks suspicious. Neither has Mtetezi. Livingstone and Cumulus are both doing fine, but give me a moment to get them. Just so you know.” She slid back into the crowd before Twilight could thank her. The knowledge that she appeared to be safe was comforting to Twilight, but her brain kept swirling with what ifs. It was good to be out, but going to the market was probably a bad idea. It was too open, too crowded. Twilight kept feeling like someone that her guards had missed was right behind her, ready to stab her in the neck. She couldn’t keep her wings still or herself from glancing around, trying to see any potential assassins. Stormwalker cleared her throat. “Your Highness, stop jumping at shadows, constantly looking over your shoulder, and generally acting like everyone here is going to try to kill you. That’s my job.” “Sorry, I know, it’s just… I’m nervous,” Twilight said. “I’ve never had to watch my back like this before, and I’m starting to think coming to the market may have been a mistake. You seem a lot happier,” she added. Indeed, ever since they’d left the palace, Stormwalker had seemed far more mellow than she’d ever been before. Definitely alert, from the tension in her wings and the twitches in her tail, but her frown no longer appeared to be etched in stone. “Well, yeah,” said Stormwalker. She started smiling. “Now, I actually have a reason to be looking out for you, and an environment to be doing it in. Honestly, you should’ve gotten poisoned a long time ago!” Twilight and Spike stared at her. “…That could not have come out worse if I’d tried,” said Stormwalker, her grin not dropping an inch. “That’s one way to put it,” said Spike. A few moments later, Livingstone and Cumulus pushed their way out of the crowd, Askari and Mtetezi right on their heels. Livingstone had a skewer loaded with exotic fruits and vegetables strapped to one of her forelegs and was happily snarfing it down. “Tvivight!” she said. “Yuh veed tuh tvy diff!” She waved her foreleg in Twilight’s face. “Tvy it!” Twilight nudged the stick away. “No thanks. I’m not hungry.” Spike, on the other hand, plucked one of the fruits off and began cutting it into pieces with his claws. “Are you okay, Twilight? You’ve seemed distracted the whole time we’ve been here.” He was hiding it well, but his eyes were filled with worry. “I’m not sure we should have come here,” Twilight said. “I mean, here here, not just out of the embassy, I’m glad we’re out. But this place…” She looked around the group. “It’s too open. I feel like a… like a target.” “Wehh,” Livingstone said, “yuh coulh goh fummplafe elfe, yeff. Dere’v a featah noh fah fwumm heah.” “Swallow and say that again.” Livingstone swallowed. “This isn’t the only place you could go to. There’s a theater not far from here. It’s far less crowded, far easier to spot someone coming. Zebras have a rich dramatic history, yes, stretching back to before they invented writing and all they had were storytellers. I was actually planning a book on that… sometime.” “I guess I could do that,” muttered Twilight. “You’re sure I’m less likely to be targeted there?” Livingstone shrugged. “I haven’t been victim of an assassination attempt, no. I don’t know. But there are less ways for people to creep up on you there, so I would say so.” “A building would be preferable to all this space,” said Stormwalker. “Far less angles of attack.” “Then let’s do that. I hate being paranoid.” Spike cleared his throat. “But you do love finding new ways to re-re-reorganize your books every other weekend?” “That’s different, Spike. The right order of books is important. Also, my life isn’t on the line there.” Livingstone led them out of the marketplace and down a block to a largish building, made of stone but extravagantly painted and drawing a steady line of zebras. The orthography lessons had paid off; Twilight could make out just enough of the sign to read what she thought translated as the “Old Quarter Theater”. The building didn’t seem large enough to hold a full-sized stage, but Livingstone assured Twilight that it was largely underground, as opposed to being built up. It was what Twilight had wanted, but the decision wasn’t unanimous. She had no idea what was playing, but that didn’t matter; she’d go see it, whatever it was. “Okay, Twi, it’s great that you want to take a break from all this,” said Spike, “but what about me? I’m fine with staying out here, and you know I don’t like plays anyway unless I’m in them. Besides, I’m a dragon. How’re they gonna hurt me?” “I can stay out here if you want me to, yes,” added Livingstone quickly. Fortunately for Spike, Twilight had already put some thought into this. “You can go back to the marketplace,” she said, “but stay with Livingstone and Cumulus. At all times. Got it?” “Twilight, I-” “Look, Spike, this isn’t Equestria. I know you can take care of yourself, but just yesterday, someone tried to poison you and me. They might come after us again.” Twilight wrapped a wing around him and pulled him close. Looking into his eyes, she said, “I know you’ll probably be okay. I just want to make that as close to definitely as we can. Okay? So stick together.” “O-okay,” said Spike. He hesitated, then jumped up and hugged Twilight around the neck. “I’ll be safe. Don’t worry.” Twilight stroked his head and let him drop. “So, um, how’ll we divvy up you two?” she asked, pointing at Askari and Mtetezi. “I’ll stay with you,” Askari said. “Mtetezi can keep guarding Spike and Livingstone as usual.” Mtetezi nodded in agreement. “That sounds good,” said Twilight. “And we’ll meet back here in… in…” “The current show takes about an hour and a half,” Livingstone said quickly, looking at the marquee. “So then. And if you hurry, you can catch it before it starts, yes.” “Sounds great,” said Twilight. She nuzzled Spike one last time. “Stay safe.” “You, too,” said Spike. “See you later!” He and Livingstone departed, and Twilight turned and entered the theatre. Inside, it was like stepping into a completely different world. The temperature dropped at least ten degrees and the aesthetic changed from thousands of years ago to not-quite-modern; it didn’t have the chrome and angles normally associated with ultramodern architecture, but Twilight had never liked that style anyway. Instead, it was… not exactly classy, but it wouldn’t take much to get there. The design was simple, dark red carpeting with hardwood paneling on polished stone walls, but it worked. A small-but-growing line was in front of the box office, with the zebras dressed up in varying degrees of well-to-do-ness. A lot of them had noticed Twilight and her group and were whispering and pointing, but Twilight had gotten used to that by now. On instinct, she made a move to step into the line, but Askari nudged her away. “Don’t get in line,” Askari whispered to her. “They’ll recognize you from the news. Wait a moment, aaaand…” In a few seconds, a sharp-dressed zebra, probably an usher of some kind, strode out from behind the ticket booth. She was completely unfazed by Twilight or Stormwalker. “Your Highness,” she said, bowing slightly. “I had heard of the arrival of foreign dignitaries in the papers, and I can only presume you are they. If you would follow me…” She turned and walked off around the box office, further into the theatre. Twilight blinked at Stormwalker and Askari, shrugged, and trotted off after the usher, down a hall. After a few moments, she realized she had to get used to lengthening her strides to keep up with the usher instead of shortening them to not go too fast. Zebras being larger than her was weird. “Excuse me,” she asked, “but where are we going? Don’t I need to buy a ticket?” “Not for you, ma’am,” the usher responded. “As an ambassador, you are entitled to have access to the boxes reserved for nobility.” “Really? You’re just… giving them to me?” The usher nodded. “Naturally. You are royalty in your own country, after all. It’s only fitting that you be treated as such here.” “Oh, you really don’t need to,” Twilight said quickly, “I’m fine with payi-” But the usher waved her off. “It’s no problem. We’re not going to make or break over a few lijamu. Inkosi is a great patron of the arts; this is our way of showing thanks.” Askari took a few quick steps to lean over and whisper in Twilight’s ear. “Take it. The view’s great, and this way, we don’t have to wait in line.” Twilight snorted. She could wait in line. Waiting in line was nothing. But if everyone was so insistent on getting her there, she might as well do it. “Fine. I’ll do it.” But once they reached the end of the hallway, the last door had a zebra guard standing at attention in front of it. He made no move to block them, but the meaning of his presence was clear. “I’m sorry, ma’am,” the usher said, “but that box is currently occupied. If you wish and they allow it, the box is large enough to share, but if you prefer to be alone, this box is almost as good.” She gestured to the next door over. Twilight was about to take a step towards the second box when an idea popped into her head. I’ve barely talked to any zebras. What kind of ambassador am I? I need to get to know them a bit more. “I’ll see what they’re like,” she said. “If I don’t like them, I can just move, right?” “Very well. Have a pleasant day, ma’am.” The usher bowed and left Twilight’s group. “You can go in and stand with her,” Askari said to Stormwalker. “I’ll stay out here.” Stormwalker nodded and gestured to the door. “Your Highness.” Twilight pushed open the door to the box and, when she saw who the other spectator in the box was, her heart sank. Another guard at her side, Kutengwa looked over at Twilight and her jaw tightened slightly. “Oh,” she said. Her voice was flat enough that it was hard to tell what she was feeling. “You. Hello.” She whipped her head back to the play. The isolationist. The one who wanted nothing more than to kick Twilight back to Equestria. Twilight almost left the box for the next one. But… Maybe I can convince her otherwise, Twilight thought. Or at least get her started. It was hardly likely she’d get Kutengwa to abandon her ways in a single night, but maybe she could convince her that she wasn’t entirely right. With some reluctance, Twilight settled on a cushion on the opposite side of the box as Kutengwa. “Your Highness, are you sure about this?” muttered Stormwalker. “She’s that-” “No,” said Twilight. “But I’ve barely talked to any zebras. If I’m going to be a diplomat, I need to get to know zebras. Of all kinds. I don’t like it, but it’s important that I do it.” “And if she’s… You know… the one who…” Stormwalker drew a hoof across Twilight’s neck. Twilight lowered her voice enough that only Stormwalker could hear it. “Then this would be a very strange place for her or her guards to attempt something and be able to deny it. Besides…” She sparked her horn. Stormwalker grunted. “If you say so.” She stood up and faced the stage. Twilight glanced over at Kutengwa, who had mastered the art of not paying attention to somebody. It’d probably take a lot for Twilight to get her to notice her. She sighed. Hopefully, Spike and Livingstone were having better success at whatever they were doing. Spike was doing just fine. Being a dragon and resistant to physical harm the same way Rarity was resistant to plaid, he was considerably less worried than Twilight. He also hadn’t fully gotten it yet that there could be people out there trying to kill him; he’d always been Twilight’s shadow (something he was fine with), so Twilight had been the one of importance, not him. He half-thought he’d been poisoned by mistake. Long story short, the idea of getting killed wasn’t weighing on him the same it was weighing on Twilight, and at the moment, he was discussing important things with Livingstone. “Oh, come on. Batmare Forever is way better. Well, more like less bad.” “It’s too campy. Batmare Returns is far more down-to-earth and mature, yes.” “It’s got an army of rocket launcher penguins!” “It knows when it can be silly.” “But the silliness clashes with your ‘maturity’-” Spike made air quotes. “-in all the wrong ways. At least Forever knows what it wants to be.” “And what it wants to be is bad, yes. All that… neon…” Livingstone cringed. “It’s so garish and hard to look at.” “At least it’s got more than one set. Pretty much every scene in Batmare Returns happens at the same place. And besides, she kills ponies in Returns and even looks happy about it. Batmare doesn’t do that.” “That is an excellent point, and one that always bugged me, yes, but it’s hardly the only thing that matters.” Livingstone sighed and rubbed her forehead. “Since it’s obvious each of us won’t convince the other, can we at least agree Batmare and Trottin is a diseased abomination that needs to be destroyed with fire and its ashes cleansed with holy water?” “Deal.” “That is sufficient. You know…” Livingstone reared on her hind legs for a few seconds to look over the zebras. When she fell back down, she grunted and rubbed her back. “You okay?” Spike asked. “I’m fine. Merely old, yes. Bad back.” Livingstone rolled her shoulders. “Now, Zebrabwe actually has its own comics industry. It does things… a touch differently, yes, but it nearly identical to Equestria’s in all the ways that count. What do you say we find a stall selling them and get you some?” Spike rolled his eyes. “But I won’t be able to read them. I barely know Zebran and I definitely can’t read it.” “Motivation to learn both, yes. I can write out the transcriptions, if you like. I find that direct comparison helps with learning the letters.” That could probably work. “Oh, fine. Let’s take a look.” Livingstone grinned. “Good. Good. I think you’ll like them. They had some excellent writers when last I was here, so if the current issues turn out to be… less than decent, we can at least pick up some old ones that are still go-” She was cut off by Cumulus loudly clearing his throat. “Hate to interrupt, but…” Cumulus looked over his shoulder for a moment, then continued, in a lower voice, “I think we’re being followed.” Spike gasped. “Followed?” he whispered. “By who?” “Some zebras dressed all in black who’re trying too hard to keep their weapons hidden and not look at us. Just saw them.” Cumulus whistled something to Mtetezi. “Just keep doing what you’re doing, maybe head for the edge of the market. Try not to act like you’ve noticed them. I’ll keep you safe,” said Cumulus. One of his ears swiveled to pick up a noise Spike couldn’t hear. “So will Mtetezi. She’s seen them, too.” Spike and Livingstone stared at each other for a moment. Livingstone coughed. “So… comics?” “I, I guess,” muttered Spike. All of a sudden, he could see precisely where Twilight had been coming from. Even after getting poisoned, the fact that he was still okay meant the idea that “someone is trying to kill me” hadn’t fully crystallized in his mind. But now… Livingstone nodded, coughed again, and patted her back. “You can… ride if you want, yes.” There wasn’t much else to do. As Spike climbed up, he wondered if he should’ve gone to the theatre after all.