Professor Layton and the Equestrian Silence

by Crystal Blue

Chapter 6: A Cover and a Case

Chapter 6: A Cover and a Case

“It hit me as soon as I read the riddle on the basement door,” Twilight began, shaking and barely able to hold in her fears.

“What is the problem?” The professor inquired.

“Whoever wrote this rhyme... knows us very well. We s-seem to be the targets.”

“We?”

“My friends and I. There are six of us.” Twilight stood up nervously. “However, we are not just good friends. We represent the power of friendship in its purest form. We are bearers of the Elements of Harmony: Honesty, Loyalty, Laughter, Kindness, Generosity and Magic. We have defeated enemies greater than any other with these gifts combined.”

“And what does the puzzle represent?”

“It represents our activities, our everyday activities. For me, it’s study.”

“Another 3 to read away...”

“Exactly. As for Applejack, she’s a farmer. She mainly farms apples, but also drives cattle.”

“3 more hours to drive a herd. You’re right, it seems that your assailant knows the six of you well. However, at this moment in time we must focus on finding Miss Applejack.” Twilight looked crestfallen at the floor.

“Trouble is,” she pronounced, exasperated. “We have nothing to go on.” The professor placed his hand to his chin.

“I wouldn’t say we have nothing, Twilight.” Layton produced the small sand bag that Big Mac had given him earlier. “I believe our criminal is trying to toy with us. Do you know of any towns in Equestria that would have vast quantities of sand?” Twilight perked up quickly.

“Yeah, two. There’s Appleoosa and Dodge Junction.”

“I believe,” the professor surmised, “that it is imperative that we investigate these two areas. In the meantime, I suggest you gather your friends if you can.”

“Got it. Wait! How will I know if you’ve found Applejack?”

“I... am not too sure.” Twilight racked her brain, before gasping.

“Of course. Spike!” The small dragon appeared out of a side door.

“Yes, Twilight?”

“I need you to send this scroll to the Princess.” The lavender unicorn carefully plucked a scroll out from a neatly stacked pile with her horn, before handing it to Spike.

“Okay, stand back.” The reptile blew a stream of green flame onto the scroll, causing it to disintegrate and vanish out of the window.

“You’re going to need a bucket, Spike.” He looked at Twilight with a fearful expression.

“It’s gonna be something big, isn’t it?” Spike grimly asked for confirmation. Twilight closed her eyes and nodded slowly. Spike pulled a bucket from under the nearest table. Surely enough, he threw up green flames and two red stones into the container, before sitting on the ground, slightly winded.

“These are beacon stones, Professor,” Twilight remarked. “They’ve not been needed for over 1000 years, but still... Once you find Applejack, give one a polish, and the other will change colour.” The professor took one stone from the unicorn’s telekinetic grasp.

“Right, we must go now.”

“Good luck, professor. Big Macintosh, look after him.”

“Eeyup,” replied the earth pony, before scooping up Layton again and dashing away for the train station. The overnight journey was going to be tense.

The morning had drawn in over Appleoosa. The train pulled up to the station. Out of the window, the professor could see a scenario not dissimilar from a frontier scene often depicted back in his home world. Many stallions wore cowboy hats to shield their eyes from the burning sky. The mares often wore dresses much like those worn by settlers. The ground was nothing but compacted sand and the buildings were all wooden without exception. Stepping off the train, Layton noticed that his companion was somewhat exposed to the sun.

“Are you going to be okay with the sun, Macintosh? You could get sunburn.”

“Eeyup.” The stallion found a black Stetson hat blowing about on the platform. He picked it up with his left hoof and pressed it onto his head. The professor smiled, before looking around for local points of interest. After about an hour, the most obvious of places stood out in the centre of town, a large saloon with doors to match. A sign hung from the overhanging roof, dubbing the saloon ‘The Salt Flock’.

“Hmmm, that seems as decent a place to start as any,” he decided, making his way to the prominent building, with Big Macintosh in tow.

Upon stepping in the room, the mere appearance of the human amongst the ponies silenced the atmosphere. The band, a honky-tonk pianist, a violinist and banjo player, ceased playing. Everypony turned to face the door. The professor, undaunted by the stares, walked to the bar.

“Yer not from around these parts, are ya?” The bartender did not mince his words.

“I’m not, no.”

“You’re not the only one, dude,” a gruff female voice shot from further down the bar. Layton turned to see a creature he could immediately recognise.

“You must be a griffon.” Layton was spot-on. The creature bore the brown rear half of her body similar to that of a lion with wings of an identical colour. The front half of her body was that of an eagle, with talons replacing the front paws. She had striking gold eyes, and her feathers were white with lilac tips. That same lilac colour ringed her eyes.

“Lucky guess, tall stuff.”

“You seem a little unhappy.”

“If you were in my position, you would be.”

“Would you care to explain your situation?”

“I only share with those who I know who can help me. Perhaps a little test will check you out. Barkeep! Nine glasses and a bottle of water, please.”

Puzzle 017

“Let’s see if it’s not just an empty skull under that hat. The game goes as follows: Every time you fill a glass, you have to fill all of the glasses next to it, but not diagonally, just up, down, left and right. If you fill a glass and any of the glasses next to it already have water in them, you must empty those full glasses again. The question for you, Top Hat, is: If you stick to the rules, what is the minimum number of times you have to fill glasses in order for them all to be full?”

The professor quickly worked through the solution in his head, before arranging the glasses into the answer he had reached. “I trust that I have your trust, Miss...”

“Gilda. Gilda the Griffon. Very well, Professor...”

“Layton. Hershel Layton.”

“I used to have a good friend, a pegasus mare in whom I confided everything. We used to fly together, pull pranks together, try to outdo each other, just like sisters would do. However, when I caught up with her down the line, she’d taken to hanging out with a bunch of lame hick dweebs. One thing led to another and, needless to say, I came off worst of all. Time has a way of changing many, Professor. I’m still stuck between holding the belief that I was right to go and staying and... making some changes, changes to myself.” The professor closed his eyes.

“When you see yourself reuniting with your friend, how do you see others reacting to you? Would they forgive your mistakes?”

“I... don’t know.” Gilda looked forlornly at the bar, her feather quiff drooping.

“I think,” the professor concluded, “your answer lies with realising the answer to that question. It is up to you to gain the strength to enter the fray and take the necessary action. Only then will you see the true outcome.” Gilda looked at Layton with a weak smile.

“Yeah. I guess you’re right. Thanks.”

“I’m glad to be of assistance. I have a question to ask myself.”

“Shoot.”

“We are looking for a mare, this stallion’s sister.” Big Macintosh raised his head in acknowledgement. "You wouldn’t have had sight or sound of such a pony, would you?”

“I barely see the outside of this bar during the day anymore,” Gilda replied glumly, “but one pony is about to step in through the door who can probably help you. Speaking of which, I've gotta gather some glasses. It was nice meeting you, Professor.”

“Likewise, Gilda.” The griffon removed herself from her stool and gathered a tray with her lion’s tail. At that point, in burst a jolly male earth pony. He had a yellow body, and a red delicious apple adorned his flank. He wore a brown leather jacket and a brown Stetson with a black band on it. His mane and tail were two tones of orange. His eyes shot open as he browsed the bar.

“Cousin Macintosh!”

“Eeyup,” Macintosh looked at the new stallion and smiled uncharacteristically. “Braeburn!” The larger stallion galloped over, showing little regard for Gilda, who was walking with a tray stacked high with glasses.

“Hey, watch it!” Gilda was a little angered by this. “Big doofus...”

“How’s it goin’, cuz?” Braeburn beamed. “You still bein’ mute most a’ the time?” Big Mac shot him a slightly peeved glance, and Braeburn winced slightly before moving his attention to this gangly upright pony in the fancy hat.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Braeburn.”

“Uh, howdy, stranger,” an obviously nervous Braeburn answered. “Ah-ah’ve never meet a pony who walked on his rear hooves all day long.

“Ah, I’m not a pony. I’m a human. I’m here investigating the disappearance of another of your cousins.”

“Applejack?!” Layton nodded. Braeburn took a deep breath, calming himself over the news.

“Ah have an idea. There was a bit of a ruckus at the apple orchard last night. We may find somethin’ useful over there.”

“Excellent. Please lead the way.”

A short while later, Big Macintosh, Braeburn and Hershel approached a large wooded area surrounded by high brass railings. They landed on the path leading up to the gate.

“Alrighty, let me just open this gate...” The yellow stallion reached into his jacket with his teeth, before recoiling in embarrassment.

“Oh, darn, ah forgot that ah’ve lost mah key! Mah memory’s gone out to pasture again. Ah’m in trouble for this...”

“This seems to be a problem,” Layton mused. Big Macintosh, with little regard for the situation, walked up to the gate and readied himself to buck it wide open.

“Big Mac, don’t!” Too late. Braeburn’s protestation went unheralded, and Big Mac went barrelling 20 metres back down the path. He picked himself up, dazed and surprised by the gate’s reaction, before trotting carefully back to his cousin.

“We’ve had apple poachers around these parts, so we put up this fence. On top of that, we had a spell placed on the area. We can’t get in unless we either have the key or we have the code to the gate.”

“Do you know the code?” asked the professor.

“’Fraid not. But there a clue on the gate itself. My gift’s with apples, not words. That there code was set by Sheriff Silverstar and the pony who set the spell on the orchard.”

“If I may be so bold as to guess, Braeburn, was this pony Twilight Sparkle?”

“You’ve met ‘er?”

“Indeed I have. Anyway, codes fall into my area of fascination. May I?”

Puzzle 018

“Don’t enter numbers, but a word you call home. The letters of this word are next to each other in the alphabet, apart from one replacement letter. Start with an upper-case, follow with all lower-cases, and turn off nine lights, no more, no less. Getting it wrong would not bode well for you. From the Office of Sheriff Silverstar.”

“It seems that Twilight has an affinity for puzzles as well.”

“Ah should think so,” Braeburn verified. “The Sheriff can keep the law better than most but, jus’ between us, he’s more an ideas pony and not so strong on puttin’ those ideas into motion.”

“Ah, I see.” Layton extinguished the last light, before swinging open the gate.

“You and Twilight would be like peas in a pod!”

“Eeyup,” Mac interjected. They proceeded through the orchard, soon crossing a raised bridge between the two enclosures.

“I am intrigued by the need for this bridge.”

“Ah, every so often we have a buffalo stampede come through here. This orchard used to be their stampedin’ ground, which we didn’ know at the time. After a bit of a tussle, we came across this solution to cut a path through the orchard and give the buffalo apple treats in exchange. We can lower them from this bridge. We’re expectin’ the stampede through here sometime today.”

“It seems that you and your town have everything considered.”

“Well, almost.” Braeburn’s tone turned a little sour as the three of them left the bridge and headed to the far end of the new enclosure. There espied an open pair of gates wide enough for vehicles.

“I would say those gates can only be unlocked from the inside,” the professor quickly deduced.

“Yes, sir. The reason they’re open is we’re gettin’ rid of a couple a’ travellin’ salesponies.” Surely enough, past the gate and onto the desert was a peculiar wheeled vehicle. It was covered in rather unnecessary lighting. Atop the machine sat a funnel attached to a hose, feeding directly into the body of the contraption. A window on the side exposed a twin-sectioned conveyor belt, and a red and green light sat above the viewing screen. The machine was been watched over by an earth stallion with a blue jacket and gleaming badge, not to mention a rather dapper moustache.

“Mornin’, Sheriff. Helpin’ the brothers outta town?”

“Howdy, Braeburn. Yep, but we’re havin’ a little trouble. Uh, who’s the tall one?”

“Oh, that’s mah cousin, Big Macintosh.”

“Yer cousin wears a mighty fancy hat.”

“What?... Oops, mah fault. This is Professor Layton.”

“How do you do?” the professor introduced himself, tipping his hat.

“Well, let’s ask our two good-for-nothin’ peddlers here, shall we?” From around the peculiar mechanism walk two very similar unicorn stallions, both beige with red hair, both wearing white boater hats and both wearing blue-and-white striped shirts. The only discernable differences were in their cutie marks and that one bore a prominent moustache to match the mane.

“Well, what have we here, Flim?” the moustached of the two posed.

“I say, Flam. Something not of ponykind, nor any kind I’ve seen for that matter.”

“That is a dandy piece upon your head, sir!”

“Thank you,” the professor responded happily to the compliment.

“But of course, stranger!” Flim carried on. “We are the Flim Flam Brothers.”

“And this,” announced Flam proudly, gesturing at the machine, “is the Super Speedy Cider Squeezy 6000! The fastest cider maker this side of Canterlot.”

At this point, a furious Big Macintosh pushed to the centre of the spectacle. Upon recognising the red stallion and his massive frame, Flim and Flam closed their mouths tightly, looking wide-eyed and panicked.

“Nnnnope!” Big Mac looked about ready to send the duo flying across the desert.

“Easy, cuz,” Braeburn stepped in. “Soon as we heard from Granny Smith ‘bout these two, we upped our strength. We’re not the only ones. Apple Family word travels fast. The only reason they’re still here is that they were let in last night, ‘bout the time the real ruckus was happenin’.” Big Mac relaxed his stance, but kept his emerald eyes trained on the tricksters. Layton turned to the brothers.

“I would like to know if either of you saw anything suspicious last night.” Flam butted in.

“Well, if the dandy one wants us to tell our tales...”

“Then we shall leave right afterwards!” Flim proceeded. “However, we have a little conundrum on our hands. You see...”

Puzzle 019

“Another condition of us leaving these lovely cowponies is that we return the apples we were going to use for our demonstration, and take the apples we’d ruined so far with us. The good apples are in the green tubs and the bad ones are in the red. However, we have positively exhausted our magic in packing up and can only manage one tub at a time between us.

"Secondly, the sand’s a touch too soft for our liking around these parts, so we can only use the three circle pallets and that trailer of ours to hold them. Finally, we can only stack smaller crates on top of their larger counterparts; none of the tubs can go on top of tubs the same size or smaller than they are.

"Any tips for a quick getaway, you spiffy-looking stranger? It looks a tad outside of reality, as far as we can tell.”

“Oh, not at all, Flim,” the professor replied, confident in his answer. “All it requires is a little bit of patience and a touch of teamwork. Shall we, sirs?”

A little while later, Flim and Flam had the bad apples loaded onto their trailer.

“Why, you have a fantastic mind under that dapper cap!” Flam exclaimed, impressed at the short amount.

“As promised, good sir, you shall know what we know,” continued Flim, stepping forward. “We arrived last night at the stroke of midnight. This gate was wide open, don’t you know?”

“Not only that, but we happened upon two dark and shadowy ponies have a good old-fashioned chase.” Layton interrupted at this point.

“Did either of you happen to see what these ponies looked like?”

“Well, the one running away was dressed top to tail in black,” Flim answered, partly jovially. “Even the vagabond’s tail was tucked away!”

“The other,” continued Flam, “was flying, and quite bulky. I’d guess a pegagus stallion. That one was dressed in black, wore a cape, goggles and a wide-rimmed chapeau. Very stylish, if we do say so. In all the confusion, the runner dropped this.” The moustached of the two levitated over a brown Stetson. “The pegasus dropped something... odd, to say the least!” The hat was followed by a thin black leather-coated case with gold trim. A latch held the two flaps from swinging open, and the latch itself was locked by a dial with 5 numbered tumblers.

“How very curious...”

“Soooo, can we go now?” The brothers echoed in unison.

“I don’t see why not.”

“Magnificent. Next town, Flim?”

“Next town!” With that, the brothers mounted their unwieldy machine, starting it up and wheeling down the stampeding trail amidst a chaotic array of whirring and popping sounds. “See ya around, chums!”

“Well, we seem to have made a little progress in our investigation. Tell me, Macintosh. Does this hat seem familiar to you?” The muscular stallion walked up to the hat being held by the professor and gave it a sniff.

“Eeyup,” Big Mac replied bluntly. “’S mah sister’s.”

“Hmmm, I don’t think we’ll find much more here. If our suspect wanted to hide Miss Applejack away from notice, I highly doubt they would risk a chance with that pegasus again.” The professor turned to Braeburn and the Sheriff. “Do you know of the quickest way to Dodge Junction?”

“Sure, Professor,” the more clean-shaven of the stallions replied. “Ah’ll see if ah can pull a favour with the buffalo stampede. Ah’ve stored away a well-decorated, towering apple cake for such an occasion. Cousin Applejack helped me put it together.”

“That would be excellent, thank you, Braeburn.” They readied themselves at the entrance, waiting for the stampede. “I don’t believe you misplaced your key to the orchard.”

“Really? How so?”

“I believe that it was stolen, more than likely by our perpetrator. How else would either party have entered the orchard?”

“But why were the vehicle gates open?”

“I would venture a guess that it was intended as an escape route, either for a clean getaway that faced away from the town, or if something unplanned happened, much like what happened last night.” Braeburn made a ring with his mouth, quickly making sense of the new information. Not a moment passed before the ground started to rumble.

“Ah, righ’ on time!” Braeburn pulled out a gigantic cake from a nearby wooden box, and readied it for the buffalo. A dust storm rose beyond the horizon, headed straight down the trail. Upon seeing that their attention was needed, the entire herd was brought to a gentle stop. At the head of the pack stood a deep brown buffalo with feathers in his fur, accompanied by a far smaller female buffalo.

“Braeburn. Sheriff. For what reasons have you halted our stampede?” The voice from the male was deep and authoritative.

“Howdy, fellas,” the sheriff began to explain. “Chief Thuderhooves, the professor here was wondering if he could get a lift inta Dodge.” The human tipped his hat at his name’s mention.

“We’ve got somethin’ extra special for ya!” Braeburn produced the cake, to the sight of every last buffalo salivating over its size and iced goodness. “Of course, it’ll be on top of the usual round a’ produce.” The Chief and Little Strongheart deliberated for just a moment, before nodding.

“Climb on my back, creature of height. It must be of urgency if you request a small favour for such a reward.”

“Thank you most sincerely, sir.” Layton clambered onto the Chief’s back, being careful not to tug hard at his fire or accidentally jab in the sides with his shoes. “Macintosh, will you be able to keep up with us?” An unusual smile wandered onto Big Macintosh’s face.

“Eeyup.”

“Alright, then. Thank you, Braeburn, Sheriff.”

“Just make sure you bring mah cousin back safe, Professor.”

“Go get ‘em, pardner!” All the farewells made, the buffalo, Big Mac and the professor set off on the trail towards the tiny town of Dodge Junction.

And much, much deeper into the mystery.

Comments

[Frost]

Why do I think I know who it is, and Layton knows who it is, and neither of us are telling anyone because we are trolls?

[Always Breakfast]

Oof. I was getting confident after the last set of puzzles but 18 was...