CiderCon Chronicles

by SSCiderConOfficial

Chapter 17 : Secrets

CiderCon Chronicles

Chapter 17 : Secrets

"...sometimes, it's not what ponies say, but what they don't say that causes trouble..." -
Grandmare Gentleheart - "Grandmare Gentleheart's Good Friend Guide"

After that first, wildly successful trip into town, things started to calm down. In Warm Welcome's house, and throughout
Hinnyssee, life slowed back down to the unhurried, idyllic pace to which everypony was accustomed.

Days slid calmly by into weeks, which strung lazily together into months.

Fall gave way to winter.

Winter was supplanted by Spring.

All the while, P'tach learned, and experienced, and shared his life with the Hinnyssee folks. In a beautiful symbiosis, the
little changeling felt the love and acceptance of the town and became more sure of himself. As a result, his personality
became more and more defined and he gave of himself to the town. He used his abilities to help those in need, talked to folks
to help quell their fears, shared tears and jokes and, in time, became just another neighbor. There were still those that
didn't care for him, but they were a exceedingly tiny collection of townsfolk of the type which, for whatever reason, are
resolved to not get along with anypony.

So, we pick up our tale on a cool, overcast day in the early spring.

********************

When P'tach awoke, he could tell almost instantly that he was alone in the house. Over the last several months, he had become
quite familiar with the sounds that Warm Welcome and Bramley made in their daily comings and goings. The fact that the house
was so silent meant that they were both gone. He noticed, then, that it was nearly noon, and figured that helping Golden
Sheaves bring in his crop yesterday must have taken more out of him than he thought.

He rolled out of bed, and went downstairs.

On the kitchen table next to a covered plate of breakfast's leftovers was a note. He opened the it and read it while absently
nibbling at a waffle from the plate. Warm Welcome said that she and Bramley had gone to Morning Dew's house to help them with
some of their household chores, and would be back around dinnertime. She further stated that it would probably be better if
he just stayed home and rested rather than joining them. P'tach recognized the name Morning Dew and understood Warm Welcome's
reasoning. She was one of those ponies that seemed determined not to be friendly. In spite of her gentle sounding name,
Morning Dew was a grizzled, combative old mare with a smart mouth and a mean streak. Although her mind and temper were still
strong, her body was given to frailty. So, due to their proximity to her homestead, Warm Welcome and Bramley had, from time
to time, gone to help her with things around the house. (Because, as Warm Welcome once told him, "Just because she ain't nice
to us don't mean we can't be nice to her.")

While finishing his breakfast, P'tach tried to decide what to do with his day. He noticed the shopping list on the icebox,
and decided that he'd go into town and get the shopping done.

********************

He arrived in town just before the sky let loose a drenching spring shower. All around him townsponies dashed from the wide
open street to the cover of the closest porch or awning. He ducked into the bakery with several other ponies. Inside, in
addition to the ponies seeking shelter from the storm were the baker, Plum Tart, and a unicorn whose face he recognized, but
whose name he couldn't recall. They cast furtive glances at the ponies that entered, and spoke to one another in a whisper.
While scanning the crowd, Plum Tart saw the changeling and froze. Her face lit up with alarm, and her hoof shot up to point
at him.

"Y... You!" she managed to blurt out, "What are you doing here? You can't be here! Go!"

He felt like he hadn't felt in months : small, alone, surrounded by hostile faces.
P'tach, utterly bewildered, blundered backwards and into a display of model cakes, knocking them over. As they clattered to
the floor, he turned and ran from the bakery out into the driving rain.

********************

As he ran through the pouring rain toward the General Store, Hot tears ran down his cheeks, making for a strange sensation
alongside the cold rain. He struggled to make sense of the events in the bakery. He had never done anything to harm, or
insult Plum Tart, had he? This morning, he'd have definitively said "No", but now he wasn't so sure. And who was the other
pony? Try as he might, he couldn't put a name with the face. Did he have something to do with plum Tart's reaction? Did he
put her under some kind of spell?

Then a series of horrible thoughts crept their way into his mind : What if the queen knows I'm here? What if she sent another
changeling to turn the town against me?

Lost in these dreadful ponderings, he found that his feet had unconsciously taken him to Constable Even-hoof's office.

As he deliberated about whether he should go in (not to mention what exactly he'd tell the constable if he did) ,he stared at
the front of the office. In spite of the pelting rain, he could see two figures through the window. One of them was the

Constable. The other, he realized with a sick shock, was Bramley. As Bramley spoke, he put his hoof to his mouth in a gesture
for "quiet". The Constable nodded, then laughed and mimicked pouncing. Bramley nodded and laughed.

P'tach felt sick. Either Warm Welcome had lied about where Bramley was going today, or that wasn't the real Bramley.
She had wanted P'tach to stay home, and now he knew why. They were plotting to creep up on him and catch him unawares for
some unknown purpose. The dreadful thoughts ratcheted up a notch : What if the queen had sent more than one changeling? What
if everyone in town has been replaced? Where are they keeping the real townsponies? How do I rescue them?

He suddenly felt very exposed on the street, and ducked into the alley between buildings. Once in the shadows, he decided on
a course of action. He had to get out of town. He was too exposed and surrounded here. He would sneak out of town and make
his way back to Warm Welcome's house. There, he could store up some food and supplies to take with him, and figure out what
to do from there.

********************

It was a life that he thought he'd left behind, but here he was slinking from alley to alley, crawling under porches, and
sprinting across open spaces to evade detection. He was silently thankful for the rain. The torrent was keeping most ponies
from coming outside, and would confound the vision of those that did.

It took him hours to stealthily traverse the distance from town back to the house. In the interim, the rain had stopped, and
left the world a muddy mess.

When he got there, it was nearly dusk. He was dismayed to find lights on and an unfamiliar covered wagon drawn by a single
unfamiliar pony out in front of the house. He thought about just flying off, but thought about the townsponies. If they had
been taken captive, he might be their only hope. He needed to keep his strength up, and that meant he needed food. The
kitchen was, thankfully, dark. He decided to sneak in, grab a potato sack from the closet, shove as many leftovers from the
icebox and pantry into it as he could, and fly off at top speed. Once he was safe, he could try to learn more about the
others and see about a rescue mission.

Thanks to the lengthening twilight shadows, he made it to the house easily, and crept inside.

He was collecting a sack from the closet, when a sound outside drew his attention. Through the window, he saw Bramley and
Warm Welcome coming up from the woods behind the house.

He froze.

His mind raced. He could try to fight his way out, but that just wasn't in his nature. He couldn't run. Warm Welcome and
Bramley were almost at the door, and the mystery pony was out front. In the end, he decided to play along with what was going
on, try to find out as much as he could, and wait for a good chance to fly off.

Warm Welcome and Bramley opened the door. P'tach realized too late that he was covered in mud and still holding an empty
potato sack. The two of them registered shock to see the changeling.

"W... Whut.." was all Bramley could manage as his eyes raced to and fro to take in the changeling's appearance.

"There you are!" Warm Welcome said, smiling broadly. "We've been a'lookin' everywhere for ya'."

"I don't know what you been up to, but put away that 'tater sack and get washed up! We're goin' ta' town!"

P'tach narrowed his eyes. "Why?" he growled, more gruffly than he meant to. He reminded himself that he was supposed to be
playing along.

Warm Welcome seemed taken aback by his question and his tone, but answered mildly. "The Constable invited us to his house to
have dinner - don't worry none, I fixed a plate for you - and to visit n' play games n'such after."

P'tach could hear a slight edge in her voice he hadn't heard before, and he knew, somehow, that she wasn't telling him the
truth.

He went to the bathroom and washed up, said "Alright, let's go." through a forced smile, and walked out the front door to get
into the wagon.

As he got in from the front, Warm Welcome climbed up behind him. There was a clattering noise from the back and Bramley
heaved himself over the back gate with a crooked grin.

Bramley and Warm Welcome, either by coincidence or design, had blocked the exits.

********************

The ride into town was tense.

Bramley wore a goofy, abnormal smile, but the tension in his jaw gave away the fact that he was uncomfortable, and trying
hard not to talk.

Warm Welcome talked about all sorts of things. Mostly the goings on around town. It was obvious, though, from her slower-
than-normal pace, that she was choosing her words very carefully.

P'tach sat, and listened, and observed, but didn't participate. If Warm Welcome asked him a question, he replied as genially
as he could muster but with the shortest answer possible.

Soon enough, though, they passed the city limit marker, and under the arch proclaiming "WELCOME TO HINNYSSEE".

Warm Welcome stopped talking, and went to the front to say something to the mystery pony pulling them. She returned, and said
"OH Yeah! I jus' remembered! P'tach, I got somethin' I want you to try for me. We been workin on a new drink for the
young'uns, and I want you to try it and tell me whatcha' think. It'll only take a minute. Ya' mind?"

Even though her whole speech was laced with the same edge of untruth he'd heard in the kitchen, he agreed.

"Just play along for now." he thought.

The wagon came came to a stop without Warm Welcome signalling for him to do so. It was obviously prearranged, and Warm
Welcome hastily said "Oh yeah! This is the place! Stop here." in a poor attempt to cover.

The three of them got out of the wagon, and P'tach walked a pace behind the other two. He took in his surroundings. The
lamplit streets were deserted, and all the storefronts in view were dark. The building in front of which they were parked was
one to which he had never been. It was a large, windowless building at the end the street. The lack of illumination from
under the door meant that the interior was dark.

Just before they got to the door, Bramley stopped and said "Hold on a sec." then trotted back to the wagon. He called "Mama!
I lost a buttn' from ma' vest. C'n you come n' help me look for it?"

Warm Welcome hurriedly said "Sure thing, Bram." and started towards him. She turned to P'tach and said "Why don't you go
ahead on in. We'll just be a sec."

P'tach nodded, and turned to the door as he heard Warm Welcome's hoofbeats retreat.

Placing his hoof on the doornob, he braced himself for the attack he knew was coming, and opened the door.

Nothing happened.

The interior of the room was dark, but a shaft of light from the street partially illuminated the interior. His heart was
racing and his body flooded with adrenaline. His vision narrowed to a tunnel. He squinted, lost in concentration as he
struggled to make out the details within.

Then the world exploded into sound and light.

The shock was too much. He felt his knees get weak, and he knew that he was about to faint.

"Not now!" his mind shrieked in a vain attempt to force his body to comply.

The room was filled with ponies yelling at him, and several had begun rushing towards him.

It was then that he noticed the table packed with food, and the decorations.
He was at a loss to piece it all together. His mind was getting foggy as he slipped into unconsciousness.

Through the fog, he noticed the banner swagged across the back wall.

"THANK YOU, P'TACH!"

"They're... throwing a party for... me?" He asked out loud to himself.

It all sunk in.

"They're throwing a party for me." He affirmed.

Relief flooded his mind, and he passed out.

********************