The Specter of the Past
Daring Do trotted softly through the streets of Ponyville cloaked in a shawl, a large hat, and oversized spectacles. A.K. Yearling tended not to be recognized around town as readily as Daring Do, and today, she didn’t have time for another enthusiastic fan to compliment her for her spot-on “cosplay.” Today, she needed to be quick to get back to Canterlot in time for the gala. But there were still things that needed taking care of.
She glanced at the castle growing out of the midst of town. The silly thing was as inviting as ever, and it would have been nice to visit with Sparkle, Velvet, and Spike, but she’d see them soon enough. Her mission took her in a different direction, more towards downtown. She hunched her head down to appear smaller than her athletic, powerful body actually did. For all intents and appearances, she was a little old lady visiting Ponyville for the first time, in awe at the regality of the castle and the charm of Mane Street.
She came to a small shop at the end of the street. Her heart warmed about ten degrees when she read the sign: Dinky’s Clock Shop (and mechanical curiosities). A bell jingled as she stepped through the door, and an old radio played a slightly-crackly song from the corner. A display case contained pocket watches big and small, while larger clocks ticked away from their positions hanging from the walls or standing free. A table in the center of the shop held a variety of clockwork toys, from dancing ponies to hopping birds to musical boxes.
A lanky mare stumbled in from the back room, her hooves covered in grease and her goggles dark from a welding torch’s flame. “Hello! Welcome to Dinky’s Clo—Daring!”
Daring Do held a hoof to her lips. “Shh. I’m incognito right now.”
“Miss Yearling!” Dinky put a grimy hoof to her chin. “A.K.? Amber? Amber Kestrel? What am I supposed to call you, then?”
Daring snorted. “Heck if I know, kiddo. Gimme a hoof with this.”
She turned to the side and unzipped a hefty saddlebag. A metallic box lay in the bottom, with various pipes and wires hanging off it. Dinky’s horn flashed, pulling the box from the bag and setting it on the countertop. The bronze color of the metal glinted in the light of the shop’s lamps.
“Got this from the changeling city. Looks motorized, so I thought you’d be able to tell me something about it.” Daring leaned on the watch display case to rest her knees. “What’s it made of?”
“Dunno. I’ve never seen this before. Looks bronze, but…” Dinky lowered her goggles and squinted. She twisted a dial near her ear, then shook her head. “There’s definitely something else in there besides copper and nickel. For one thing, it hasn’t turned green with age.”
She lifted the object with a spell and swiveled it about, looking at it from every angle. “It’s some sort of motor, that’s for sure. No springs, so it’s got an outside power source. Looks like it transfers… magical resistance into circular motion. Liiike… so!”
Dinky touched two of the wires together and sent a stronger charge of magic into the device. The gears ground and sputtered as one of the protrusions spun. “Looks like it required a direct magical current, sustained, in order to continue to move. No enchantments, so they aren’t run by come-to-life spells. Maybe these were made before come-to-life spells became a big deal.”
“That sounds right,” Daring said. “These are supposed to be two-thousand years old.”
“Two-thou—” Dinky lifted her goggles and set the device gently on the countertop. “And you’re letting me touch it?”
“What can I say? I trust you.” Daring glanced behind her shoulder. She pulled her glasses down to look over them. “You hold onto it and tell me if you find anything out about it. What it’s made of, what it’s for, that sorta thing. I’m not sticking around town for long, but I should be back before the end of the month.”
Dinky saluted. “Yessir, Miss Yearling, sir.”
Daring pulled her pocket watch out from behind her shirt. She laid it on the table and slid it towards Dinky. “My watch’s been kinda slow, lately. Can you take a look?”
“With pleasure.” Dinky lifted the ancient device and the timepiece side-by-side. She pushed the door to the back room open with a hind leg. “Wanna come in back? I’ve got crackers.”
“How can I say no to crackers?” Daring hung the oversized hat on the coatrack and trotted deeper into the shop. Beyond the customer showroom was a dark room filled to the brim with clocks in various states of disrepair. A grandfather clock rested against the wall, gutted of its inner workings. A cuckoo clock wheezed out a faint call.
In the center of the room, Dinky took a seat at a metal tabled with a grated top. She popped open the watch and took a second to admire the photo of Daring Do and Time Turner. “He never seemed to age, you know? Thought he’d be with us forever.”
Daring Do took a seat opposite Dinky. Soot got all over the front of her shawl, but she didn’t care. “Yeah. Most people feel like that. You can’t really imagine life without them until…”
She grabbed a few saltine crackers from a bag Dinky hovered near her nose. She munched away as Dinky examined the pocket watch. “Well, horseapples happen.”
She leaned against the grated table. “So how’s ‘Muffins’? She holding up after all this time?”
Dinky smirked. “You know he came up with that nickname, right?”
Daring barked a tiny laugh. “I figured as much.”
“Mom’s doing as well as I’d expect. Maybe better.” The backpiece came off of the watch, revealing the complex innerworkings. Gears overlapped with springs and levers, while tumblers kept time. “She dove into her work pretty hard. People say it’s part of her grief cycle. Like when she lost my dad.”
“I’ll stop by and see her next time I’m in town.” Daring shrugged her wings. A dose of ambrosia had taken the brunt of the pain away, allowing slight movements to not be eternally agonizing. It was like going through physical therapy all over again. “She has a way of making you smile even when she’s not feeling her best.”
Dinky tightened a screw, licking her lips. Her horn flickered as she tested a miniature spring hidden behind a gear. “She’d like that a lot.”
Daring bobbed her head. “And you? Still hanging out with that ne’er-do-well Pip?”
“You hush up.” Dinky closed the watch up and held it beside her ear. She counted down the seconds, then nodded approval. “I’ll have you know he’s started shopping for a house all his own. Before you know it, he’s gonna be a self-made stallion.”
Daring took the watch back and hung it about her neck. The familiar heartbeat of the timepiece dovetailed with her own. “Issat so? How long do you think it’ll be before he can afford the engagement ring he promised you?”
Dinky continued to smile, even if her ears drooped slightly. “Sooner than you’d expect, longer than I’d hoped.”
“I’m just pulling your leg, Dinkster.” Daring Do stood up and polished off the last cracker. “I’m real sorry to eat and run, but I’ve got—eugh—a public appearance to make.”
“We’ll be here when you get back.” Dinky yawned and stretched her back out. She snuck a cracker into her mouth and bobbed her head. “With a good old fashioned homemade meal to greet you.”
“I appreciate it. I appreciate you guys.” Daring Do made her way to the exit. She popped the watch out to check the time.
Time Turner smiled at her from behind the watch hands. He hugged her tight in that moment that seemed so long ago. Her eyes slipped to her image, bereft of pith helmet, but bedecked in her signature smirk. Frozen in time, holding on to happiness.
“Hay, Dinkster…” Daring Do spread a wing and tucked the watch away. “Do you know… Well, I guess what I wanna ask is ‘What do you think about stars and ponies?’”
Dinky pulled the goggles from her head and hung them from the wall. “I believe that the stars are the dreams of ponies living and dead. That’s how the story goes, anyway. My mom and I would watch the stars when I was younger, and try to guess who they were.”
Daring sighed, deep and long. “Still sounds kinda fantastic to me.”
“It’s pretty fantastic.” Dinky went to the large sink mounted to the back wall and poured soap over her hooves. “Time Turner believed it, though.”
“He did?”
“Yeah. He always said it was important to remember that we’re luminous beings. Not this crude matter.” Dinky scrubbed away, a wistfulness entering her f and her eyes. “He was never really afraid of death, just annoyed by it. ‘I don’t have time for this rubbish,’ he would say. ‘I have stuff to get done!’ He always told me that no matter who or what tried to harm your body, you would still live on. You were untouchable.”
She looked at her reflection and groaned at the bags under her eyes. “That was before I learned that the soul could hurt, too.”
Dinky Doo, tall and lanky, tossed a hoof and flicked water across the room. “I guess I gotta believe it, because that means someday I’ll see him again. I gotta believe it because it’s all that keeps me from becoming a blubbering wreck.”
Daring Do felt the watch tick beneath her hoof. She gave Dinky a nod and backed out of the room. “Thanks, Dinky. For everything.”
“Any time you need something,” Dinky said, “you just need to ask.”
With nothing else to say, Daring Do left the clock shop and headed for the train station.
***
Flurry Heart followed behind Pinkie Pie as she led them on a tour through Ponyville, using a path that made logical sense only to the silly mare herself. A moment over here to view the park, a stop over there to discuss the local Hayburger’s historic importance, a scramble around city hall to avoid the protestors, and on it went. There was little opportunity to investigate the shady activities of Merry Mare, and less opportunity to mull over recent revelations.
She could almost forget her woes while spending time with Pinkie. The mare’s energy was contagious, and her giggle a downright pandemic. Stella was absolutely lost in glee, her chirped words only occasionally making the translation to Equish. Silver Lance kept his steady, calm smile, answering Stella’s questions whenever he could understand them. Twilight Amore flew above them, directing Stella’s and Silver’s attention whenever she spotted something funny.
Corona trailed behind their procession. She smiled, the same as everybody, but it failed to reflect the luster of Pinkie Pie’s. She caught Flurry’s eye and shook her head slightly. “Careful,” she whispered, “people are gonna wonder why you’re frowning.”
“I’m not frowning,” Flurry said, pulling the edges of her mouth upward. “I’m thinking. Which is hard right now.”
“And there’s the schoolhouse!” Pinkie Pie said as if it was the most amazing discovery since the Tree of Harmony. “The center for arts and learning for Ponyville’s younger folks. In days past, all the foals of Ponyville could be educated in one room by Mrs. Cheerilee, with different grades being taught at different times. However, since we became a town back in 1005 C.E., we had to expand the building and our staff of teachers.”
“I’m in heaven!” Stella twittered.
Flurry shrugged her shoulders. “We can’t really investigate Merry Mare in any practical way right now. We’re stuck.”
“Just keep your eyes and ears alert.” Corona combed her talons through her fur. Her eagle eyes narrowed in on somepony or another. “Maybe we’ll see her walking around. Buying something suspicious, meeting creepy people for nefarious deeds, jaywalking, something.”
Corona glanced over her shoulder, moving her feet quickly to keep up with Pinkie’s continual hop. “We’ll get to the bottom of this dream. I know it.”
“And that’s Ponyville!” Pinkie bowed until her forehead brushed the dirt road to Sweet Apple Acres. “A land of history, heart, and heavenly food!” She popped up, her eyebrows dancing. “So how’s about sampling the local cuisine?”
Twilight Amore glanced to the left and right, her eyebrows lowering. “You mean Sugarcube Corner, right? I think that’s code for Sugarcube Corner.”
“Rightaroonie!” Pinkie covered one side of her mouth. “No sense wasting this opportunity to put the test to the best.”
It was a quick jaunt to the establishment, as Sugarcube Corner’s centralized location put it within easy walking distance of anywhere in Ponyville. The gingerbread house-shaped business and home looked good enough to eat all by itself, at least until Flurry was close enough to see that the frosting was painted on. She saw Spike and Apple Bloom leaving with ice cream cones held tight, and almost called out, but didn’t want to draw too much attention to herself. At least, not more attention than her oversized wings, royalty, and general alicornness already drew. The bell over the door chimed as the six of them walked in, and was answered with halloos from behind the counter.
Cup Cake smiled at their approach. “How’s it goin’, dearies? What can I get yah?”
“Only the best, most excellent in pastries!” Pinkie Pie hopped up to the counter and gave cup a quick half-hug. “So what’ll it be, kids? Doughnuts? Ice Cream? Eclairs? Cake?”
Cup gave the griffon girls a double-take. “Oh my. Flurry, Amore, and Lance I know, but who might you be?”
While Pinkie made introductions, Flurry took a glance around the place. It was a lovely little bakery, well kept, clean, and smelling of divine baked goods. A highlight every time she was able to visit Ponyville. In this atmosphere, with this company, her worries vanished into the background noise.
“Eat something, Glasses. Forget the stallion and let’s just chill.”
Flurry’s eyes drifted to a couple sitting in the far corner of the room. A young mare, probably in her late teens, reached across the table to push a plate closer to her coltfriend. He hunched over, his hoof clutching at his ear, his eyes red. His leather jacket hung from his back, slightly tattered at the seams.
“Sorry, Truly,” Glasses muttered. He gazed at nothing, his voice a dull monotone. “I’ll take it home. I don’t feel like it right now.”
He moved his hoof away from his head, revealing that his ear had been torn in twain. Flurry Heart blushed and looked away, her own ear burning with phantom pain. She walked back to Pinkie and company, her gut churning.
“If you want to go to the bar again tonight, you can’t do it on an empty stomach!”
“I know, Truly. It’s fine.”
“Have you even eaten since Wednesday?”
Flurry Heart felt like she hadn’t eaten since Wednesday. She felt like she hadn’t wanted to either. Seems she wasn’t the only one to have a pretty grody week.
Pinkie opened her mouth with a large smile, but paused mid-word when she saw the expression on Flurry’s face. She continued with a gentler smile, something sad behind her eyes. “Would you like something, Flurry?”
“Um.” Flurry pushed the stallion and his girlfriend from her mind. Like shoveling heavy snow. “A chocolate-filled cupcake, please. Or—or actually a strawberry filled one.”
“Comin’ right up, sugar plumb.” Cup called over her shoulder. “Pound! Would ya start on a batch of cupcakes? Strawberry filled!”
“Yes, mom!”
Cup Cake smiled. “We should have that filled up for you in just a couple minutes.”
Corona bowed at the neck. “Thank you, ma’am.”
Pinkie reached into her light saddlebags to pull out a bit purse, but Cup stopped her. “It’s on the house, Pinkie.”
Pinkie tilted her head. “If you insist.”
Flurry smiled as politely as she could, then took a step towards a table to wait. Her wings got away from her and nearly took another pony out at the knees. “Sorry, sir.”
“That’s alright, Your Highness.” The pony smiled at her with a face that reminded her way too much of a rat about to eat cheese. “I need to watch where I’m going.”
Cup Cake addressed her new customer with ears perked. “Hello, Scuttlebutt. Here for your usual?”
“Absolutely.” He walked up to the counter with his bits at the ready. “A dozen candy cookies.”
“We’ll get that right up for yah.” Cup Cake counted the bits and slid them into the cash register with a cha-ching.
Pinkie leaned on the display case and grinned in the most unsubtle way possible to Scuttlebutt. “Cookies for your visit with Merry Mare, hmm?”
“Of course.” Scuttlebutt was a tiny little pony, barely taller than Flurry herself. His thin mane hung over his ears and down his neck, while his tail swished back and forth in a strange little dance. “It wouldn’t be an afternoon without them.”
“Mm hmm.” Pinkie winked. “And between the weekly cookie sessions and the tea time, I’m sure the two of you keep things strictly professional.”
“Well…” A touch of color reached Scuttlebutt’s face as he rubbed his throat. “‘Professional’ is maybe a strong word for it.”
The box came forth, and Scuttlebutt placed it on his back. “Thank you. See you sometime soon, Miss Pie.”
“Later, Scutts!” Pinkie waved, and was quickly distracted by a pile of delicious baked goods floating her way. “Ooh, you outdid yourself this time, Pound!”
Flurry found her attention drawn to the creepy little pony walking away from the counter. He paused by the table holding Glasses and Truly and placed a hoof beside the young stallion. “I hope we’ll see you at the bar tonight, Glasses. I know the other guys are looking forward to it.”
Glasses squirmed in his seat, not looking the littler pony in the eye. “I might have stuff I need to do.”
“Come now, it’ll be fun.” Scuttlebutt slapped a hoof on Glasses’ shoulder. Show us how the darts fly, and I’ll let you try the new drink mix I’ve brewed up.”
Glasses hunched over. “Well, I guess—”
Truly lowered her eyebrows. “Glasses…”
“Come on, Truly. I’ll eat later. It’s just fine.”
“But—”
“It’s fine.”
Flurry shook her head and took a chair. At the edge of her hearing, she caught Cup Cake’s whisper to Pinkie. “Oh, I hope the two of them get together. Merry’s been so lonely since Poni left her.”
Corona took the seat next to Flurry. She held her beak tight with her talon, only slacking her grip to let a few words out. “They… really don’t make many ponies like him, do they?”
Flurry shook her head.
Scuttlebutt left the store with a jingle that belied the unease in Flurry’s heart.
“He wasn’t a pony,” Silver Lance said. “His magic was all wrong.”
Flurry rolled her eyes and turned to her little brother, ready to tell him that of course he was a pony and that everypony’s magic was a little different. When she saw his face, all protests were crushed by sudden silence. The young colt’s cheeks were pale, lacking their usual silvery luster. His pupils shrank alongside his mouth. His ears hung limp from the sides of his head.
The boy was terrified.
Corona leaned close to the boy, narrowing her eyes. “What makes you say that? He looks like a pony, acts like a pony, lives in pony society—”
“Inside.” Silver swallowed hard. “I—inside, his heart, I can feel it. It’s slimy, shriveled, clammy.”
Twilight Amore rubbed the top of his head. “I don’t feel anything but hungry, Lance.”
Stella examined the tip of his horn with a twitch of her talon. “What’s wrong? You got some sorta evil detector in there?”
“No, I don’t.” Silver Lance rubbed his nose, forcing his breathing to slow down. “I—I just get these feelings sometimes. When… when ponies are happy or sad. Or angry. Merry Mare was very angry. Scuttlebutt was—was hungry in a weird way. And Flu—and Aunt Twilight gets really sad sometimes.”
He lay his chin on the table, all eyes on his shivering shoulders. “I know you guys can’t feel it, and you probably don’t believe me, but—”
“I believe you!” Stella said.
“Huh?”
“Why shouldn’t I?” She shrugged. “Maybe it’s your super-special talent.”
“But—” Silver Lance glanced her way before averting his eyes. “But nopony else can do it.”
Corona teased the feathers of one red-tipped wing between her talons. “It kinda sounds like what the changelings can do. Sense emotions and things like that.”
“But I’m not a changeling.” Silver attention was drawn to the young couple at the other table, who were standing up to leave. Glasses and Truly walked slowly, her foreleg wrapped around his, until they left the store with a jingle far more merry than they. Silver swallowed the dryness in his throat.
Flurry Heart checked on Pinkie; she and Mrs. Cake were still blabbing it up. She leaned close to her little brother. “What do you feel with them?”
“Emptiness.” Silver’s cheeks heated up. “Somepony emptied him. And I think maybe Scuttlebutt had something to do with it.”
Twilight Amore propped her cheek on a hoof and fanned her wings. “You wanna call that a lead, sis?”
“Empty stallions, hungry not-a-ponies, evil former mayors…” Flurry gave them a tiny grin as their desserts drew near. “Let’s find out how deep the hole goes.”
***
Blankety Blank splashed water on his face as he neared the end of his grooming routine. A hoof towel dug its way into his ear, while a fresh spray of water nicked away the last of the soap. A real bed, a hot shower, a full-length mirror; these were rarities in the life of the adventure-prone. Steam from his way-too-long shower filled his guest room in the castle. He wiped down the mirror and only succeeded in blurring the image further.
He looked over his white-on-white visage past the streaks. Pink eyes shone from beneath furrowed eyebrows. Whiskers protruded from his chin in erratic lengths—soon to be trimmed to their proper size. He ruffled his short mane and flicked moisture from his tail.
He could have finished it all in an instant with a transformation spell, but it was always best to keep the changeling magic to a minimum when visiting Canterlot. If the legends surrounding changelings weren’t enough, the two attacks in as many years were still in recent memory. Counselors had made a living helping the traumatized to heal, to move on.
It didn’t matter that the tiny changeling once known as Mandible was nowhere near the attack. It didn’t matter that he had long ago left the hive and joined Equestria with his heart and soul. It didn’t matter that he had taken the name Blankety Blank and served the princesses faithfully for seven years.
“Creatures hiding in the dark,” he muttered. “Hoping nopony squishes us.”
“Where my sanctuary is, so too goes my influence.”
He shook his head, emptying his mind of his conversation with the changeling queen’s ghost. That was the last thing he needed to carry into his little mini-vacation. He had more pleasant and important things to think about. He could visit the library for a few good books. He could help Daring with research. He could train up his swordsmanship with Martial. He could visit with Care Carrot if she was in town…
He hoped she was in town. It’d been a long time since they’d had the opportunity to spend time together. Nearly two years, in fact. They hadn’t seen each other since they’d managed to defeat Hurricane together.
A knock jolted him out of his reverie. Martial Paw’s voice hailed from the far side of the door. “Blankety! Message from the princesses!”
Blankety opened the door with a kick. He yawned as he walked into the sitting room portion of his suite, giving Martial a smile. “What’s up?”
“I’m afraid our vacation has been cut short.” Martial pinched his talons together. “Slightly.”
An ache made itself felt between Blankety’s shoulder blades. He rubbed the bridge of his nose with the side of his hoof. “Might as well spill it.”
“Ahuizotl is the least of our worries.” Martial Paw passed a small scroll to Blank. “Insofar as he’s currently unreachable.”
Blankety perused the letter, his ears drooping. Kidnapping, attempted murder, vicious brawls. “Caballeron’s b-back from the shadows.”
“That about sums it up.” Martial gripped the handle of his rapier tightly. Tightly enough, in fact, to whiten his knuckles. “Which means our mission has changed. We’re to assist with tracking down and rescuing these young ladies, while putting Caballeron in his place.”
Blankety noted the steely look in his friend’s eyes. “You don’t wanna go?”
“It seems… disproportionate.” Martial Paw scratched the back of his head and took a seat. His rapier’s scabbard clattered against the chair’s wooden leg. “Ahuizotl is the type of threat that could destroy the planet. Lest we forget that the sun is a rather important artifact to keep under control. Meanwhile, I can’t…” He lowered his eyebrows, drumming his talons against an armrest. He turned away from Blank as his left ear twitched. “I can’t see two young mares being important enough to break off the chase.”
Blankety touched a hoof to the swirling, flowery script on the scroll. It was a familiar horn writing style, one that he’d had the pleasure of reading many times in his life. “M-Martial, these orders come st-st-straight from Celestia.”
Martial nodded briefly. Blank tasted a special sort of agony drifting off the griffon—a deep anxiety hailing from the tightening muscles in his shoulders. Conflict battling for dominance behind his eyes that smelled of rotten apples. A twitch in his wings with the sour taste of an uncertain destination.
Blankety Blank bumped his fetlock against Martial’s shoulder. “And I’m p-pretty sure she has her p-p-priorities in their p-proper order.”
Martial Paw clicked his beak. “I’m less certain. Ahuizotl is the greater threat and should be dealt with first.”
Blankety sighed. He hung his towel across the back of the bathroom door. He trotted to his little cooler in the corner. “Want something to drink? I’ve got f-f-fizzy cordial.”
“Cherry, please.” Martial leaned back and forced his muscles to relax. Judging by the bitter flavor of his emotions, it wasn’t quite working. “We shouldn’t be ignoring him like this.”
“W-we’re not.” Blankety passed him a bottle and held one tight for himself. He snuck it beneath the blade of a bottle opener and uncovered the sweet drink. “We hit a d-d-dead end, Daring said so herself. Th-this is important, and definitely Daring’s expertise.”
Martial opened his bottle with the curve of his beak. He spat the bottle cap across the room and straight into Blankety’s recycling bin. “That doesn’t mean I have to like it. I just have to follow along.”
The cordial fizzed delightfully across Blankety’s tongue. It made his ears perk up and sent his nose twitching. “A f-f-friend of mine, Care Carrot, said something once… Although I think she heard it from Lady Velvet.”
Martial turned an ear to face him even as he guzzled his fizz.
“Don’t fight against something bad,” Blankety Blank raised an eyebrow. “Fight for something good.”
Martial snorted, then covered his nostrils as the bubbles invaded his sinuses. Tears leaked from his eyes. “Oof.” He shook off the effects and gave Blank a dim glance. “Sometimes evil things need to be destroyed.”
“And sometimes g-good things need to be protected.” Blank shrugged. “This is that time.”
Martial stood up and wandered over to the window. He unclasped the pathway onto the balcony and stepped into open air. “Fair warning; Celestia has also cordially invited us to come to the Cloudsdale charity gala. We’re expected to show up in our Sunday Sunrise best.”
“A party.” Blankety Blank shivered as he curled in on himself. “How delightful.”
“You’ll be fine.” Martial Paw climbed onto the balcony rail and shot Blank a faux salute. “Just put on your best face.”
He fell backwards off the rail and swooped into a glide. His wings locked at their full length, only occasionally pulling him upward with strong flaps. Blankety Blank leaned on the rail and looked out over the courtyard, where flowers bloomed from a single large tree at the center. A short distance away he could see the building where the gala would be held in the castle’s largest ballroom. By his reckoning, he had only a few short hours before he was expected.
He supposed the vacation would have to come later. More’s the pity.
***
“Are you mad?”
The question was not asked in anger, but was voiced with a slight hint of bewildered curiosity. Celestia glanced over her shoulder to spy Andean Ursagryph tapping his talons against the hilt of his mighty broadsword.
She was mere millimeters from disappearing into her room to prepare for the gala. Mere millimeters from freedom. Mere millimeters from leaving behind the griffon king’s accusatory glare. “I’ve been called such, but I suspect we’re all a little mad.”
“Don’t be coy, Your Majesty.” Andean lumbered forward, his wings folded loosely across his back to prevent him from knocking over the potted plants hanging on either side of the hall. “We both know how great a threat to the world Ahuizotl is. And yet here you are, satisfying your vain hero complex.”
Celestia inclined her head and spun, putting herself eye-to-eye with the king. “Andean Ursagryph, if you wish to pursue Ahuizotl with no leads, no support, and no idea of his plans, then please be my guest. If not, then I shall continue to patently ignore your grumblings and save two young mares who are very dear to me. Thank you.”
Andean narrowed his gaze, turning his head to the side so that one wide-set eye could look directly at Celestia. “What are Sweetie Belle and Scoot-a-loo to you?”
Celestia sucked lightly on the inside of her cheek. She corrected one ear before it could droop, and left her mask of serenity firmly in place. “You were all but willing to start a war to save Stella’s life, were you not?”
His talons scraped light furrows in the marbled floor. “Of course. She’s my daughter. We are both quite blessed that it never came to that.”
“I agree.” Celestia took a deep breath. She felt something odd in her chest and cleared her throat. It must have been her heart rate spiking due to the stress she always associated with King Andean. The tension in her shoulders was certainly an ever-present symptom of his company. “Excuse me. My point is that while I was never a parent—a mother—I am not without love for the ponies I come across. Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo are two very dear ponies to me. Two ponies who contain a spark of goodness that is so wonderful to me in these trying times. Like you, I shall protect the ones I love.”
Andean’s beak ground together. “Even to the detriment of your country?”
“It will not come to that, Your Grace.” She half-spread her wings; mostly on instinct, but also to display that she brooked no argument from him. “Besides, an individual who would dare kidnap somepony so close to the Bearers of the Elements… well, someone capable of that must be put down immediately. That is as real a threat to national and international security as Ahuizotl will ever be.”
He shook his head. “But to put the entire investigation on hold—”
“It’s a temporary measure for extraordinary circumstances.” Celestia bowed at the neck. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have to get ready for the gala.”
She turned back without another word and put her hoof to the door. Before she could enter, a swirl of smoke danced its way before her nose. It sparked and coalesced before her eyes, the smoke becoming ashes, the ashes becoming paper and ink. She caught the resulting scroll in a bubble of magic and unfurled it.
“Well,” she said. “That’s convenient.”
She smirked as she showed Andean the scroll from over her shoulder. “My agents in Dodge Junction made a vital discovery. It appears that Caballeron is working with Ahuizotl himself. Seems that two problems have become one.”
Andean’s eyes darkened. “Be careful Celestia. Continue to put the desires of your heart over the fate of your country, and you may not be so lucky next time.”
Celestia pressed her lips together. “Luckily for Equestria, my desire is to see my country and my people prosperous and secure.”
Andean Ursagryph shook his head. He backed away, his talon finally leaving the hilt of his sword. “May it remain so, Your Majesty. May. It. Remain. So.”
***
“Now there’s a mare that I did fear… I’d never meet in a thousand—hurck!—years…”
Rhombus stumbled into the cavern, his four legs going six different directions. He collapsed onto his cot, his blue mane a mess about his face. He rolled over and faced the ceiling.
He found himself face-to-face with Dr. Caballeron.
“Ruuu—” Rhombus tumbled from his bed and onto the stone floor. “What’s your problem? I’m just takin’ my evening sabbatical.”
“You jack-mule.” Caballeron kicked dirt into Rhombus’ face. “Stand up.”
Rhombus took a great deal more time to stand up than he would have liked. He squared his hooves, spread his wings for balance, and finally brought his eyes up to meet his employer.
Caballeron’s stern eyebrows came together on his forehead. “You got into a bar fight again.”
Rhombus cracked a grin. “They had it com—”
“You got into a fight!” Caballeron’s voice echoed in Rhombus’ ears, tearing its way through his brain and reverberating across his spine. “In the largest! Frontier city! In Equestria!”
Rhombus backed away, but only got two steps. His rump bumped against the impassable chest of Kiln, who looked down on him with a disapproving glower.
A vein bulged on Caballeron’s neck as he drew close enough that Rhombus could feel his hot breath on his nose. Rhombus tilted his head away. “Listen, I—”
“You left the cavern.” Caballeron hit Rhombus’ chest with just enough force to shut him up. “Went into a populated area. Drank and made merry. Started a fight. All when your face is one of the most sought-after in Equestria!”
Rhombus coughed, nearly vomiting, but he was able to hold it down. “I left no trace of myself, and the warehouse only has cheap trinkets in it. There’s nothing to lead them here.”
Caballeron grabbed him by the shoulders and shook. “If there’s any chance you led the Royal Guard here, then Ahuizotl will kill you, and me, and Kiln, and everybody else he thinks is even slightly involved. Do you understand just how badly you screwed up?”
The doctor dropped Rhombus and cantered away. He checked a small, pyramid-shaped device set in the corner of the cavern—a sound dampener of ridiculously high quality. The edges of the room shimmered with a soft magic sparkle, and the device hummed to match.
“Our time is short,” he said. “Partially due to our young friend here—” He sneered at Rhombus. “—but also because Ahuizotl’s plans near completion. I think we can all rest assured that his promise to us is going to go unfulfilled?”
“Nae doubt in me mind.” Kiln took a seat and munched on hardtack. The plain hard bread left a sour expression on his face. “The blackguard’s usin’ us as keenly as ever. We’ll see nae sign of repayment in this life.”
Rhombus chuckled and spread his wings. Glinting bits of razor-sharp metal flashed in the low light. “I’d like to wipe the self-satisfaction off of Dissero’s face.”
“We’re not here to fight the Painted Ones. Or Ahuizotl.” Caballeron brought his hooves together beneath his chin. “You’ve seen the bag Ahuizotl wears on his side?”
Rhombus leaned forward. His eyes crossed, and he had to blink several times before he could give Caballeron his full attention. “The one with Scootaloo’s heart in it?”
Kiln bopped him on the back of the head. “Keep yer head on yer shoulders.”
“Shut up, Kill.” Rhombus chuckled to himself as he crossed his forelegs. “So, Poni, you think he’s keeping your heart in the same bag?”
Caballeron sent an extra glance at the dampener. Satisfied, he nodded. “I’ve looked in the main chamber and never found the heart among the others. I’ve not seen Dissero or any of the other Painted Ones carrying hearts. None of Ahuizotl’s machines contained it. If Ahuizotl doesn’t have it, I don’t know where it could be.”
Kiln touched a hoof to Caballeron’s shoulder. “An’ once we have the heart, we can leave Ahuizotl behind forever?”
Caballeron touched his hoof to Kiln’s. “Exactly. This is the last job, gentleponies.” He gave Rhombus a grim look. “I want all of us to be operating at peak efficiency, Rhombus. Can I expect that from you?”
“Give me a cup of coffee and I’ll sober right up.” A wingblade flew up from one of Rhombus’ wings and landed amidst the feather of the other. “And doubly-so, if I can rescue Scootaloo at the same time.”
Kiln growled deep in his throat. “She’ll never give her heart to ye, ye daffy colt.”
“Well then,” Rhombus said, flashing Caballeron and Kiln a wink, “I’ll see if I can’t just steal it.”
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So much progress! Daring talking/hearing more about the afterlife! The kids are combining powers to get more clues! Caballeron's heart is being held hostage! I'm loving this!
A couple notes I wanted to make. First, I was just thinking that it was fortunate that the two problems were connected in the Blankety section. Second, I really want to punch that Rhombus fellow. I mean, I'm glad he left a clue, but enough with the creepy seduction attempt already! If you can't respect her as a mare who isn't obsessed with you, you clearly don't care about her at all. Given the way this story is going, Scootaloo is probably going to consider it, but the romance from Scootaloo Will Fly is too good to have this jerk mess it up.
Thanks for the fun read, I'm looking forward to seeing more!
My favorite part this chapter was definitely Flurry and the gang getting a vital breakthrough in their case. I didn't realize Scuttlebutt had actually drained some ponies.
Poor Cup Cake vaguely remembers this Poni fellow from when she was Chiffon Swirl, and now she is as much a mad shipper as me.
I never get tired of seeing Andean being both a classic proud warrior race and ruthlessly logical.
Of course Ahuizotl has Poni's heart, I should have guess the leverage! Well, after Rhombus blew their cover like an idiot, the action is going to heat up quite rapidly. I'm also quite looking forward to the Gala.
8616530
wrong emoticon, needed a
I was all set to go "but whatabout..." and then I remembered there's no internet in Equestria, and no computers with searchable criminal databases. This is the kind of setting where people can still make dramatic discoveries while reading through micro-fiche. Investigators can't just check every version of a name or query every related piece of information in a giant facts pile about everyone like they can now.
Probably the first 3 that were more about intricate puzzles! #QuibbleWasRight
I wonder if Blankety has had any contact? And I wonder how Pharynx would react if the ghost of the changling queen had reached out to him instead...
That's the advantage of you building a setting bigger than your story: Plenty of extra room for canon material to be squeezed in!
I love the idea of Trixie and Flash, and Starlight publishing her manifesto for money is hilarious. It's like when people by Che Guevara merchandise.
The Map is a lot like plutonium in Back to the Future. If you travel around time, be sure to be smart enough to bring a power supply that will last you a round trip, or only travel to times when the power was readily available.
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So sure are you that it is his heart held hostage? Hmm?
It would seem contrived, if I hadn't literally revealed it in chapter two.
I wouldn't worry too much about Rhombus. We've really only scratched the surface of his character. Beneath his thin veneer of scummy perverseness, you find he's actually spoilerspoilerspoiler.
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Scuttlebutt's come a long way from his role as a background element in Lord Mayor Applejack. I'm proud of the little vermin. His role, it seems, only increases with every entry he takes part in.
Poor Chiffy has seen enough love ended before its time, I feel.
Andean continues to be one of my best OCs, I think. Even back in LMA, when I was a less-skilled writer, I was seeking to avoid the classic pratfalls of the tropes he embodies. I feel it all basically boils down to the fact that he loves his family very much, and that keeps him from becoming some sort of warmonger for the sake of war.
There's also the fact that he considers Luna a very, very dear friend at this point.
I just went back and reread the appearance of Proto-Andean in Sonata de Equestria. It is pretty much rubbish. I am sooooo glad he's been able to grow past his lackluster origins. Because yuck, that facsimile of a character is super shallow and uninteresting. Even LMA-era Andean would look at that guy and dismiss him as a moronic danger to himself and others.
It is his heart, though? He doesn't seem to be acting as a zombiefied drone throughout these chapters!
I'm looking forward to the gala, too. I always like using a celebration or party as some sort of catalyst for drama. Like when Blueblood and Twilight confronted each other (following Redheart's confession) during his going away party in Blueblood's Ascension III. Or when Luna, Care, and Daring lay in wait for Hurricane at the Nightmare Night Party, only for the assassin to sneak-attack Twilight elsewhere! Or basically the entirety of LMA!
I think it's become a personal, inescapable trope of mine. T-Minus two stories before people start rolling their eyes at its appearance.
Exactly. I loooooove a good old fashioned setting. So much easier to plan out massive revelations that way. So much easier to keep the audience in the dark.
Hahahahahaha...
#DaringDoesn'tCare
You'll get some answers over the course of the next couple chapters. Suffice it to say, there is history there.
Squeezed in with lots of WD-40, a crowbar, and 1 ton of leverage. I'd like the include the Pillars at some point, there's potential there, but gawrsh, they fiddled with the cannon for my series something fierce. Principally with regards to the origins of the Elements.
For now, I'm going with the thought-train that the Pillars only reawakened the Elements with their virtues--not created them.
I never heard of Che Guevara before I started talking with you. Now I see the man everywhere. He was my answer in Apples to Apples the other day. I lost, but that's just because nobody has respect for a good revolutionary these days, you know?
Good point. And on top of that, unstable Plutonium is much like a nuke. It's good for a reset, but it'll end up with a lot of fallout!
That's less of a simile and more of blunt-force trauma to the frontal lobe, ain't it?