//------------------------------//
// Confronting His Muse 
// Story: Shining Armor Follows His Muse 
// by Chengar Qordath 
//------------------------------//

I was pretty sure I’d been permanently deafened. 

My ears wouldn’t stop ringing. All I could hear was the deep, throbbing echoes of Vinyl’s music bouncing through my brain over and over again. Like a massive herd of elephants tap-dancing on my eardrums, except louder.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, I had to drop by the club Vinyl was performing at the same night to deal with her stalker. Unsurprisingly, the nightclub adhered to the common industry policy of playing the music loud enough to make the windows rattle and render any form of normal conversation impossible.

Alright, maybe I was exaggerating a little. Yeah, the music actually was that loud out on the dance floor, but it wasn’t as bad over by the bar and at the tables. Presumably they’d either set up spells to keep the volume down or it was just something about acoustics and how the speakers were placed. Probably the second of those; just putting the speakers in the right places was a lot cheaper than paying for somepony to set up and maintain sound-dampening spells.

Much as I would’ve preferred to stay in the quieter areas of the club, I couldn’t exactly ignore the dance floor. Especially since Vinyl’s sound equipment was set up right next to it. If she was being harassed by a crazy stalker, the stalker would probably try to approach her from that direction. Fortunately, I knew enough about magic to protect my poor, ravaged ears from any further harm.

However, cutting down the volume only did so much for my attempt to find any troublemakers. The club also had a fog machine and strobe lighting that, while no doubt cool for the dancers, made it pretty difficult to spot any potential troublemakers. On top of that, the dance floor was a mass of wildly thrashing bodies that made me wonder if they’d all been infected with the Sparkle Family Dancing Curse. And that was pretty bad dancing, considering that the one time Cadance had dragged me out onto the floor at the West Hoof graduation ball I’d wound up somehow accidentally knocking over the concessions table. I’d managed to protect Cadance from the mess with a shield spell, but that just meant it splattered over everypony else instead. Which was especially bad since Princess Celestia had been attending to celebrate West Hoof’s 875th graduating class.

Needless to say, I’d spent the rest of my time at West Hoof peeling potatoes. Thank goodness it had happened at the graduation ball, so there hadn’t been too much time for the Sergeant-Instructors to make me suffer. Though that just prompted them to make the most of the time they had.

I suppose if all else failed, I could always try to clear out the dance floor by joining in on the fun. Hopefully that would make everypony get out of the way before I caused irreparable structural damage to the building.

I wasn’t quite desperate enough to resort to extreme measures like dancing. Not yet, at least. Instead, I just trotted around the club, trying to find an earth pony mare matching the description I’d gotten from Musette and Vinyl. For once, luck seemed to be on my side, because I managed to find her without too much trouble. It helped that there weren’t any other ponies in the nightclub standing by the bar looking really snooty and out-of-place. Something about the bowtie and regally disdainful expression on her face just made it abundantly clear that she did not belong in a nightclub like this. Or any nightclub, probably. I’d expect to see a mare like her at a high-society party, not listening to Vinyl’s beats.

However, that’s exactly what she was doing. What really caught my attention was her eyes: they were locked with almost laser-like intensity on the stage, where Vinyl was working her turntables. I could just barely see Musette hidden behind the curtain, cheering Vinyl on from backstage. I kept an eye on the stalker for a few minutes, and her eyes never left the stage for more than a few seconds. I could definitely understand why Musette was a little freaked out by this mare if she did that during every show.

Well, time to do my job. I took a deep breath and carefully approached her, puffing out my chest just a bit. Just trying to make myself look a bit more impressive, and make my uniform stand out a bit more. After all, I was trying to ... well not scare her off, but ... okay yeah, pretty much scare her off. Shining Armor, defender of the innocent, protector of the weak and intimidator of stalker-mares. My mom would be so proud right now.

With that thought in mind, I tried to take a more gentlemanly approach to the whole thing. I settled into one of the seats next to her at the bar and tried for a friendly, charming smile. “Hello there. Come around here often?”

The potential stalker turned to me, lifting a single dignified eyebrow and giving me a rather frosty once-over. It occurred to me a couple seconds too late that it might have sounded a bit like I was trying to hit on her. Thankfully, the uniform seemed to at least convince her that I merited an answer. “Hello, lieutenant,” she responded coolly, evidently familiar enough with the Guard to recognize rank insignia. “I come here when it suits me. Though the company leaves something to be desired. And if you were planning on offering to buy me a drink ... don’t.”

Ouch. Not that I’d actually been hitting on her, but if I had been I would’ve liked to think I wouldn’t get shot down that quickly. I mean, I’m a semi-decent looking and reasonably charming stallion. I should’ve had a chance. 

Now was hardly the time for bruised egos, though. I took a deep breath and stiffened my spine, shifting my tone to something a lot more official-sounding. “I'm Lieutenant Shining Armor, and from what I've been hearing, you've been showing up to a lot of Vinyl's shows and causing a few problems. The sort of problems where a Guardpony like me gets involved.”

“Is that so?” Her tone turned even frostier, but she leaned away from me and crossed her forelegs over her chest, trying to affect an air of casual disdain. Despite that, I didn’t miss the way her eyes briefly flicked towards the nearest exit. She might be hiding it very well, but she was nervous. Her voice didn’t give anything away, though. “And where exactly have you been hearing such talk?”

I kept my tone as stiff and formal as hers. Two could play at that game. “From Vinyl herself, and the ponies that care about her.”

Her eyes flicked back to the stage again. “I should have known. I suppose you’re here at the behest of her companion? The one who calls herself Musette?”

“‘Who calls herself Musette’?” I repeated, mulling over the interesting implications of that particular turn of phrase. “Sounds like you have a history with her.”

“I can’t be entirely sure if I do or not,” the mare murmured under her breath, which just made me even more confused about the whole situation. She stared at the stage for a few seconds longer, then shifted her attention fully to me. “A question, before we go any further: what do you think of Musette? Your full opinion of her, both the good and the bad. Don’t hold back any details, even if they seem inconsequential.”

“Er...” I had no idea why she would ask something like that, but I didn’t see any harm in playing along. “She seems nice enough. Pretty, charming, funny, and pretty. A little pushy at first, but I think that was mostly just her teasing me. Kinda one of those weird artsy types, but not in a bad sort of way—plus she wanted to join my Mazes and Magi group. If she’s a halfway decent player, the rest of the guys will love having her around.”

The stalker looked me over, then sniffed faintly. “Interesting. You’re not acting like a lovesick puppy desperate for her approval, so it seems the vaunted Guard willpower training is actually worth something. It’s a bit of a risk, but I think it’s safe to say she hasn’t gotten to you yet.”

“Gotten to me?” I repeated incredulously. “What’s that supposed to mean? Are you saying she’s some kind of mind-controller?”

“Yes, she is.” She paused a moment, then offered me her hoof. “I hope you’ll forgive me for not introducing myself sooner, but considering the circumstances I felt caution was warranted. I am Octavia Melody, and it is a pleasure to meet you, lieutenant.” I shook her hoof, which she maintained just long enough to be properly polite before pulling away. “As for Musette, yes, if my suspicions are correct she is indeed capable of controlling ponies’ minds. And quite a bit more besides. I have good reason to believe she is a muse. I trust you are familiar with those?”

I rubbed my chin and thought back to my classes at West Hoof. I hadn’t spent a lot of time studying different hostile creatures—I wasn’t planning to join the monster hunters in the Long Patrol or anything—but a basic grounding in the subject was mandatory for all officers. “Muses. They’re a type of fey, right? Really into art?”

Octavia nodded, her face grim. “Just so. They feed off of the psychic energy involved in the act of artistic creation. It’s not immediately dangerous to the victim, but long-term exposure can be rather ... unhealthy. Not to mention that, like all fey, they are quite fond of striking bargains.” She grimaced and shook her head. “One of my teachers had the misfortune of crossing a muse. Thus, my interest in the matter.”

I could guess what had happened easily enough. “He cut a deal with one and got the short end of the stick?”

Octavia nodded grimly. “One had been associating with him for some time when he idly mentioned that he would trade his right hoof to become a cellist equal to the great Animando Assai. Suffice to say that my teacher is the best three-hooved cellist I have ever heard.”

I winced sympathetically. “Yeah, fey tend to get real nasty when it comes to enforcing their bargains. They’re great at being either incredibly literal or taking the most tortured, loophole-ridden interpretation possible—whichever gives them the best deal, really. But what makes you so sure Musette’s a muse?” I frowned, then shook my head. “I mean, you’d think if she was actually an ancient fey that preyed upon the creative energies of artists, she’d at least come up with a better alias.”

Octavia chuckled softly and shook her head. “Muses are known for inspiring creativity in others. Their ability to practice it themselves is ... rather more dubious. They can still imitate any existing art quite well, but they lack the creative spark that marks a true artist.”

I nodded along. “Right, that’s why they hang around artists and feed off of them. Since they can’t create anything themselves, they have to leech off of ponies who can.”

“Exactly,” Octavia agreed. “Though the feeding isn’t really my main concern; what really concerns me is the possibility that she’s made some sort of bargain with Vinyl. Not to put too fine a point on it, but taking a hoof is not the worst that muses have been known to do to their victims. There have been artists who traded their lives for the immortality that comes from creating a masterpiece.”

“No way I’d let that happen.” I paused, frowning faintly. “This is starting to sound a bit more serious than what I thought I was dealing with. Maybe I should get some backup.”

“That might be prudent, yes,” Octavia agreed. “Muses can be rather dangerous, depending on whether one defines things like martial arts as an art form. As I said, while they lack creativity they can be quite good at imitating established styles.”

In other words, she might not be able to invent her own unique form of plot-kicking, but she’d be a black belt in every existing style of it. I didn’t exactly like the idea of matching whatever creative talents I had against that kind of broad mastery. “Yeah, I think I need lots of backup.” Which did raise one rather important question I’d been diplomatically avoiding up to this point to keep the conversation amicable. “Er, it’d be a lot easier to persuade my bosses to lend me said backup if I had some solid proof that Musette is what you say she is.”

For all I knew, Octavia was just a delusional looney, but I knew saying that wouldn’t go over nearly as well as playing along and acting like I believed her. For what it was worth, she certainly didn’t seem like an obsessive crazy pony, but that could just mean she was good at pretending to be normal. She wouldn’t be the first crazy fan to come up with an elaborate theory about how a celebrity’s friend was actually an evil monster who the celebrity needed to be saved from. Heck, I wasn’t even a crazy fanpony, and I’d fantasized once or twice about saving beautiful mares from evil monsters.

Octavia grimaced and shook her head. “That has been something of a stumbling block, yes. To be quite honest, it’s why I’ve been conducting my own amateur investigation into the matter instead of contacting the authorities. I doubt they would take me seriously without any evidence, especially when Musette could employ her fey glamour to charm anypony who actually did look into my charges.” She frowned to herself. “Although if she is setting the guards on me, she must be worried I'm onto her.”

Or she just thinks you’re a crazy lunatic with a particularly elaborate set of delusions, I thought to myself. However, I opted to keep playing along and see what else she had to say; most crazies are pretty talkative if they think they have a receptive audience. “She was the one most concerned about you.”

“But of course she was,” Octavia murmured. “Out of curiosity, what did she say to convince you that I needed to be investigated?”

“For starters, she said that you were stalking Vinyl at all of her performances.”

Octavia let out a disdainful sniff. “I was investigating the potentially dangerous fey. Vinyl Scratch is of little interest to me beyond the fact that she seems to be Musette’s current target.” She paused, then grudgingly admitted, “Though I will grant that she is a rather talented performer, albeit one whose abilities are limited on account of her chosen genre. Pity she didn’t study the classical styles; she might have been great.”

Well, that sort of disdain usually wasn’t the kind of thing you’d hear from an obsessed fan. Not that I was an expert of the subject or anything. “There’s more to it than just showing up at her performances—she also said that you left a dead rat at Vinyl's door.”

Octavia blinked and recoiled, her eyes widening with shock. “I most certainly did not! I would never do something so ... crude!” She scoffed, her voice rising as her indignation mounted. “The nerve of that creature, saying that I did something so absolutely horrid!”

Her shouting was starting to draw a bit too much attention, so I tried to defuse things before she started causing a scene. “You might want to keep your voice down, unless you want Musette to overhear us.”

Octavia jumped, her eyes nervously darting towards the Musette. “Oh. Right. Of course.” She turned her attention back to me a moment later. “So ... you believe me? About Musette?”

I decided it was time to give her an honest answer. “I’m not sure if I do or not, but I definitely think it’s worth looking into. If Musette is what you say she is, it won’t be too hard to prove it. Fey can’t tell a direct lie, and they’re famous for their massive aversion to cold iron. Gives me two pretty easy litmus tests to check whether she’s really a muse or not.” 

I’d probably try to use the lie thing first, since cold iron would disrupt my magic. Needless to say, there’d been quite a bit of speculation on the fact that cold iron was both toxic to fey and disrupted unicorn magic. I vaguely recalled hearing a theory that unicorns had started off as some sort of fey/pony crossbreed, or as a group of ponies that somehow stole fey magic. Twiley would probably know a whole lot more about it.

Octavia looked me over, then very slowly nodded. “I suppose that’s all there is to it, then. I would have tried to do those myself, but I rather doubt she would’ve let me get close enough to expose her to cold iron, and if she’s got Vinyl convinced I’m some sort of psychopath it would be easy to dodge any questions I posed.” 

I nodded and chuckled softly. “Running at her while waving around a cold iron knife and shouting a bunch of crazy questions probably isn’t the best way to convince everypony that you’re not an insane stalker.” I let that joke hang in the air for a moment, then added, “Though just so you know, it is against the law to lie to an officer of the Guard when it’s related to a law enforcement issue. Just thought I should mention that fact, in case there are any last-minute changes you want to make to your statement.”

The mare regarded me levelly for several moments, then firmly declared, “I stand by everything I said.”

Well, I guess that meant that she was being sincere. Either Musette really was a muse or Octavia was delusional. I suppose the truth would be revealed soon enough, either way. “I’ll take care of things from here. For now, the best thing you can do is lay low for a while. It’ll make Musette believe I scared you off like she wanted me to. That’ll probably make her let her guard down.” Or alternately, keep Octavia far enough away from Musette and Vinyl that they’d be safe from her until we could make an arrest.

“If that is what you think best, then I shall trust your judgement.” She sighed softly, her shoulders slumping. “To be quite honest, it will be a relief to have the matter settled and out of my hooves. Doing all this investigation by myself was quite stressful. Not to mention...” Her eyes flicked around the nightclub, and at the many wildly dressed ponies writhing on the dance floor. “Well, this isn’t exactly the sort of place I would normally care to spend my free time. Though I would hardly want Miss Scratch to become the victim of a muse just because I am less than enthused by her taste in music.”

If not for the fact that my eardrums were still recovering, I might have felt obligated to speak up in defense of Vinyl’s talents. As it was, I kept focused on the job. “So if there isn't anything else you think I should know, I'll get to work on dealing with Musette.”

Octavia frowned in thought, and after several seconds finally shook her head. “I believe you know everything I do. If I think of anything else...”

“Get in touch with somepony in the Guard, and word will eventually get back to me.” Not the most direct solution, but I didn’t want to do something foolhardy and give the possibly crazy pony my home address. Sure, I was ninety percent sure Octavia was perfectly sane, but that still meant there was a ten percent chance I might wake up one night to find her in my bedroom smearing cream cheese over me. Or whatever it is crazy ponies do.

“Very well then,” Octavia nodded, seeming quite satisfied with my answer. “I wish you the best of luck, lieutenant.”

“Thanks.” If Musette really was a muse and muses really were as dangerous as I’d heard, then I would probably need all the luck I could get.





The good news was I didn’t have any trouble getting backup. The bad news was the form my backup had come in. Since this had started off as me doing a favor for Mom, it seemed reasonable to let her know what was going on and that I wanted a few extra hooves available just in case Musette was a problem. Which had led to...

“Mom, I can handle arresting a single fey without you holding my hoof.”

“Of course you can, dear,” Mom murmured, giving me a reassuring pat on the back. “But really, it’s better if we don’t involve anypony else in what is still a private family matter. We wouldn’t want to drag a bunch of guardponies into this only for Musette to be innocent. And if she really is a muse, it’s much better for Vinyl if we take care of the problem ... off the record, as it were. Her music career would almost certainly run into complications if word got out that she’s been working under a muse’s influence.”

After taking a moment to think it over, I realized she had a point. If everypony found out Vinyl had been under Musette’s control, there’d be a lot of questions about the legitimacy of her work and how much of it came from her own talents. The actual creativity was all coming from Vinyl, but there would certainly be plenty of ponies who would use the situation as an excuse to attack her music and say she’d never really had any talent. That wasn’t how muses worked, but ponies never let a few inconvenient facts get in the way of a good scandal. So ... yeah, maybe it would be better to keep this quiet.

Still... “When I said I wanted backup, I was thinking maybe a squad of guardponies or something. Not ... er, you.”

Mom turned to me, slowly raising a single eyebrow. “Is there something wrong with me? Need I remind you that I was the Archmagus of the Eastern March for a decade?”

I shuffled uncomfortably, trying to come up with a diplomatic way to explain myself. “Well yeah, but that was a long time ago.”

Mom’s eyes narrowed slightly. “And what exactly are you saying, dear? That I’m too old and out of shape to handle myself in a sticky situation?”

Oh Celestia, age rage button. I had to smooth this over, and fast. “No no I'm not saying you're old! No! Nooooo, no. Nonono.” Despite my best efforts to control the damage, I could see a frown forming on her face. “You aren't old at all—in fact, you might be under … um … underold to be an Archmagus!”

I realized a second too late that I’d messed up. “So you think I’m too inexperienced for the job?”

Mare in the Moon, why do you do this to me? “No! You’re fine! Better than fine! You’re more experienced than anypony else. The college of magi voted for you in a landslide!”

Mom hummed to herself. “True… But experience only comes with time, and if I’m more experienced…” She tapped her chin, then (thank you, Celestia) changed the subject. Slightly. “Just because I retired from my post to focus on my research and have more time with family doesn’t mean all my skills have gone to rust. As the old saying goes, there’s no such thing as an ex-archmagus. How many times were Sunbeam and Midnight pulled out of retirement to deal with some new crisis?”

“I know, I know...” The last thing I needed was another family history lecture. I did the only thing I could to win (or at least survive) the discussion: “You’re right. Sorry.” I wasn’t even sure what she was right about, but she was definitely right about it. 

Mom smiled and nodded, satisfied with my surrender. “Thank you, dear.” She paused, looking me over and frowning faintly, then pulling out a manebrush and ruthlessly assaulting my head with it. “And really, you should’ve taken care of this before we set out. We need to look properly official for this.”

“Moooom!” I groaned as she brushed out my mane like I was still an unruly little colt. “I can brush my own mane!”

“Of course you can, dear,” she murmured absently, finishing up her work and using her magic to straighten out my uniform. I started to fidget away from her until she shot me one of those warning glowers that told me I could either put up with her mothering or risk her displeasure. Since I wasn’t stupid, I behaved.

Once Mom was done tidying up my uniform, I was ready to face the potential killer monster. My life is weird sometimes. 

Okay, all the time.

The plan itself was pretty simple. The trickiest part was keeping an eye on Vinyl and Musette’s apartment until the two of them split up. Mom and I both agreed that it would be better to confront Musette without Vinyl around. If Musette was innocent, it would lead to a lot more drama and hurt feelings—and if she really was a fey, she almost certainly had some kind of mental hold over Vinyl. Fortunately, even mind-controlled musicians still need to go out grocery shopping, which left Musette all by herself in the apartment.

Mom kept out of sight and put some stealth spells over herself while I trotted up to the front door. Musette answered as soon as I knocked, giving me another one of her dazzling smiles. My guard was up, but I didn’t feel any supernatural fey magic trying to get into my head. Just ordinary pretty mare magic. “Hello again, Shining. I saw you talking to our little problem mare last night. Did you get rid of her?”

“She shouldn’t be bothering you again,” I assured her, and despite the circumstances I couldn’t help grinning and puffing my chest out a bit. “I talked with her and sorted everything out.”

“That’s wonderful!” She wrapped her forelegs around me in an enthusiastic hug, and for the next several seconds I completely forgot about the possibility that she might actually be a monster in pony form that fed off the life and creativity of her victims. In my defense, it felt very nice when she hugged me. Have I mentioned how pretty she was? Or how soft her coat was? Or the way she ... never mind.

After both far too long and not nearly long enough, I broke off the hug. She smiled at me in a way that made me uncomfortably aware of the fact that my mother was standing nearby and watching my every move. “I really am grateful for everything you’ve done for us, Shining. If there’s anything I can do for you, don’t hesitate to ask.”

Despite some distinctly unwise thoughts about exactly what I should ask her for, I managed to remember why I was there. “Actually, I was wondering if you could answer a question for me. If it’s not too much trouble.”

She shot me a coy grin. “Just one question in exchange for all the trouble you went to protecting the two of us? That hardly seems like enough to express my gratitude, but if that’s what you want, we have a deal.”

A part of me was instantly suspicious when she started talking about deals, given the fey were notorious for that kind of bargaining. Of course, it could just be an innocent turn of phrase. No point in speculating though, I’d have the answer soon enough either way. “Alright. So, Musette ... are you a muse?”

I wasn’t sure what response I’d been expecting. Probably confusion if she was innocent, or panic if she was guilty. Instead of either of those, Musette chuckled and shook her head. “Amused? Not exactly, but I’m certainly relieved to not have that ... that horrible mare menacing Vinyl anymore. It’s quite a weight off my shoulders.”

I blinked and shook my head. “No, not amused. A muse.”

“A muse?” she repeated, her head tilting slightly to the side. “Well, Vinyl does always say that I’m her personal muse, yes. Though I think she’s giving me too much credit—all the creativity and artistic talent comes from her. I just give her a one-pony audience to test out new songs.”

I was paranoid enough to realize that she hadn’t exactly answered my question. Not directly, at least. That’s the thing about fey: they can’t outright lie to you, but they can certainly dodge, deflect, or give you an answer that’s technically true but creates a false impression. Her not directly answering the question once could’ve been her simply mishearing me, but two dodges in a row was pretty suspicious. My eyes narrowed, and my tone turned serious. “Musette, are you a muse? Yes or no.”

Her eyes widened and she took half a step back from me. “Sh-Shining! What’s gotten into you? It’s her fault, isn’t it? Did she plant some crazy idea in your head? A delusional fantasy about me being some sort of supernatural monster who she has to rescue Vinyl from? Surely you realize that’s the exact sort of story a crazy pony like her might conjure up to justify her actions. You can’t be taking her seriously, can you?”

“I’m not sure what I think,” I answered levelly. “But back at West Hoof, one of the lessons the SIs drilled into my head was to never assume or rule out anything. I’m not saying I buy what Octavia’s selling, but I want a straight answer just to make sure I can rule it out. So, by the terms of our agreement answer my question: are you a muse? Yes, or no?” 

“Damn.” An instant after she hissed that under my breath, a wave of pure lust hammered into my brain. I recognized the sensation from when I first met her, but at the time I’d dismissed it as the normal reaction to meeting a pretty girl who was flirting with me. Now I recognized it for what it was: fey magic. “Yes, I am a muse.”

While Musette’s glamour had a fair bit of muscle behind it, she never stood a chance. Fey magic isn’t really suited to the brute-force approach, and I’d already managed to resist her spells when I hadn’t even realized she was trying to get into my head. Now that I was expecting and prepared for the attack, all I needed was to close my eyes and take a few deep breaths to shake off her influence. Though her glamour did have one slight side effect that caused me to hastily tuck my tail down, hopefully before anypony saw the ... problem.

Musette grimaced and took a few steps back. “I suspected that wouldn’t work, but you can’t blame a girl for trying.”

“Pretty sure I can,” I grunted out. “You’re under arrest for mentally assaulting a Guard officer. And I’m sure Vinyl will add a bunch more charges to the list once I have a chat with her.” I paused a moment, then casually added, “Oh, and you also filed a false guard report, but I think that’s the least of your worries.” I pulled out a set of cold iron hoofcuffs, which she immediately flinched away from. “Please don’t add resisting arrest to the list of charges.”

Musette’s ears went flat, and she slowly extended her forelegs. “Fine. I surrender.”

I blinked in surprise, then carefully reached over and put the cuffs on. To my surprise, she didn’t try some sort of clever trick to escape at the last second, though she did let out a pained hiss when the cold iron made contact with her coat. “Huh. I was kind of expecting ... I dunno. Octavia figured you’d do something like say ‘martial arts are technically art’ and start kicking my plot.”

Despite the circumstances, she managed a wry smile. “Sorry to disappoint, that’s really my sister’s field of interest. Well, one of my sisters. I’ve got eight of them. But ... yeah, unless you want to challenge me to a sing-off or poetry slam for my freedom... Maybe even a rap battle?”

“Think I’ll pass on that.”

“Can’t say I blame you.” She sighed and shrugged as best she could in her restraints. “Though as far as hauling me off to prison goes, can I ask you for a favor? No, wait, not a favor ... let’s make a deal.” She shot me a halfhearted smirk. “Now that you know what I am, I’m sure you realize that I’ll hold my end of it.”

“Right...” Fey did keep their bargains. Technically. “What do you want?”

“Vinyl doesn’t really need to know about all this, does she?” Musette stared up at me with sad eyes that reminded me of Twiley begging for a new book. “After all, think about what it could do to her confidence as an artist if she realizes I was inspiring her all this time. Besides...” Her eyes flicked down to the floor. “I’d ... I’d rather she didn’t know, is all.”

I cocked my head to the side as a rather strange thought sprang into my head. “Wait ... do you actually care what she thinks about you?”

She sighed and shrugged. “I suppose we did get a bit close. We have been living together for several months, and she’s pleasant company.”

“Right...” Though a part of me also couldn’t help but think that if Vinyl never found out about Musette, she wouldn’t be pressing charges for all of Musette’s crimes. “You said you were offering me a deal. So what do I get out of it?”

“Oh, I’ll release Vinyl from the bargain she made with me.” A faint smile flicked across her face. “It was about a month ago. I suspect she’d had a few too many ciders, and she was discussing the works of D3ad H0r53. She said, and I quote, ‘I would die to be as good as he is.’ I’m sure you can guess at the terms of our agreement. Rather ironic, given the artist she admired.”

I choked on the air as her words sank in. “Wh-what? You made a deal to kill her?! I thought you were her friend!”

“I am,” she answered matter-of-factly. “Vinyl’s a lovely mare, and I really did enjoy spending time with her and getting to know her better. But a deal’s a deal, darling—arresting me won’t change the terms of our agreement, or her own requirement to ... provide what I am owed. So, keep my secrets from her. And everypony else too, of course. Because if you were to report this to anypony, word might get back to her.”

I stepped forward, a threatening growl entering my voice. “So either I let you go, or you kill Vinyl? Horseapples. If you were really her friend you wouldn’t do that.”

Musette sighed and rolled her eyes. “Ponies. You have such odd notions. I’m not doing anything to her but following the agreement we made. It’s not my fault she offered such unwise terms. It’s not like I even want to follow through on it. At least, not anymore.”

“So don’t.”

Musette looked at me as though I’d suggested that she grow a second head. “Not follow through on a bargain I’ve made? That’s ... that’s not how it works. Don’t you know anything about fey?”

“Right...” I sighed and ran a hoof down my face. Fey had a bunch of weird compulsions when it came to making deals. Musette had to follow through on any deal she made, regardless of her personal feelings. Sure, she could abuse loopholes or twist words, but she couldn’t just flat out break the agreement. And while I wasn’t one hundred percent sure, I also suspected she couldn’t give her claim away for nothing. Whatever compelled the fey to make deals probably also required them to make deals that paid off for them. Even if she didn’t want to keep her bargain with Vinyl, she’d have to trade it away for something of equal or better value.

So, what could I offer her that was worth Vinyl’s life? Letting her lie to Vinyl and get away with all her crimes didn’t sit right with me, but I suppose if all else failed I could take that. Or perhaps... “I don’t suppose your deal with her specified when she would die, did it?”

“No, other than allowing her to achieve her own goals first.” She shot me a rather bitter smile. “Let me guess: you’re going to suggest I use that to kill her when she’s old, decrepit, and three seconds away from dying of natural causes? Sweetie, I was playing the loophole game when your ancestors were common glassmakers who could never even dream that they’d become nobles or mages. Of course I thought of that. But ... well, I’m sure you know what Equestria’s laws say about that kind of thing.”

I grimaced and nodded. As far as the law was concerned, murder was murder regardless of the timing. Even if Musette waited until seconds before Vinyl would die of natural causes, she’d still be the one who did the killing. And if Musette was actually growing a conscience, she’d probably still feel just as guilty regardless.

“I see your point,” I reluctantly admitted. “However, let’s say you go with that anyway. So, the bargain you made is really just for three seconds of Vinyl’s life, if you think about it. How much is three seconds of Vinyl’s life worth?”

“Not bad, Shining.” A faint smile crossed her lips, but a second later she tsked and shook her head. “Of course, it’s not really that easy. I could just as well claim my due tomorrow and gain far more of her lifetime. Sorry, but you’ll have to do better than that.”

I tried a different angle. “But if you really don’t want to kill her, then it’s not a very good deal for you, is it? That sounds like cause to renegotiate it, because right now nobody’s very happy with the arrangement.”

“There are many who would say that a deal which makes nobody completely happy is actually a sign of a compromise,” Musette countered. “But yes, I would be open to renegotiation so long as I receive something of equal or greater value than Vinyl’s life. And I assure you, regardless of my personal feelings it has very high value.”

I tapped my chin thoughtfully. “We could always just lock you up for the rest of Vinyl’s life.”

“If I am incapable of fulfilling the terms of our agreement, it would fall to my sisters to provide the services and collect my payment,” Musette countered. “And yes, that would include the one who has an interest in the combat arts. That might get messy. And if somehow you manage to stop them, you don’t even want to know whom we’re beholden to.”

A particularly intriguing idea sprang into my mind. “Well, I guess there’s nothing for it, then. It looks like we’ll have to make a fair trade, and the only thing worth a life is another life, right?” When Musette agreed, I sighed. “Alright then, I’ll make that trade.”

Mom dropped her stealth spell. “Shining! What are you thinking?!”

“Now now,” Musette chided, surprisingly unperturbed at her sudden appearance. “This is between the two of us. It’s rude to interrupt.”

“Relax, Mom.” I took a deep breath and solemnly nodded. “I know what I’m doing. And don’t worry, I’m not going to sacrifice myself. It’s gonna be somepony else: Sir Noble Braveheart, a high-ranking Knight Palatine in the Order of Sol Invictus. One of the mightiest and purest soldiers in all the world. Surely he’s worth more than a DJ?”

“Shining!” Mom gasped out, horrified. “You can’t just ... just sell somepony to a fey in Vinyl’s place! It’s wrong!”

“I know what I’m doing.” I repeated to her. “And it’s between Musette and me.”

Musette thought it over for a second, then nodded. “Agreed. Vinyl for the knight.”

I shook her hoof. Now all that was left was arranging the sacrifice.