The Disappearance of Harissa Honeycomb

by Miller Minus

2 – M-F-'n-T

We only took one break between the campsite and our destination. I couldn’t pinpoint it on a map if I tried, but I know it was somewhere along Pinery's multitude of shallow rivers—the ones that weaved in and out of the forest's outskirts, serving as a sign to tourists and travelers alike that their journey was almost over.

It was the perfect place to collect some thoughts and some water before embarking one last time. Plus, the weather had cleared up, and the deranged wildlife had decided to leave us alone, for whatever reason. Maybe they figured we weren't worth picking out of their teeth. Or maybe they could tell that my two companions were not ponies you could prey on. Either way, it was a welcome respite.

If Terrain had gotten his way, we would have taken two breaks before we reached our destination. If Minerva had gotten her way, we would have taken none. So we made a compromise. Or, as Terrain called it, "a good way to make sure nopony is happy."

I was okay with just the one, though. Especially since, from where I was sitting, I could already see our destination way up ahead, through a hole in the thinning canopy.

The Town of Pinery.

Glistening like brown water in the afternoon sun.

Patiently waiting for our arrival.

The moment my eyes caught the quaint little settlement was the moment that I knew what it was like for a gryphon to use your heart as a stress ball.

Because the thing about arriving in Pinery was that I was woefully unprepared for it. Not that it was really my fault or anything. I had only been given my task that morning, and now we were almost there! I couldn't have been prepared that quickly.

So I took some initiative. I broke out the dossier for the sixth or seventh time that journey and gave some solid attention to the parts I had skimmed the first five or six times. Maybe then I could get a good plan of attack going for when we arrived, and I could get that damn gryphon to relax her grip.

The planning didn't go as planned.

The first thing I did was remove the paperclip holding all the different pages together, causing them to scatter all over the damn grass. I stuck the bent piece of metal in my teeth and started snatching at the pages with my hooves, before realizing I could just use my magic.

When I had the document all together again, I took a quick glance to my right and to my left, where Minerva was standing waist-deep in the river, and Terrain was cozying up against a mossy rock, respectively. The lieutenant’s eyes were fully closed—the front of his armor covered in sap and the back of it covered in lichens. The captain's eyes were narrowed at him, as she dunked our three flasks in the water with increasing force.

I was in the clear.

I floated the pages in the air and put them back in order, save for the one I was looking for, which I placed on top.

The primary contacts. These were the ponies we were supposed to find once we got to Castle Pinery. These were the ponies who would eventually be standing in front of me, patiently waiting to hear some polite and prepared introductions.

The page featured descriptions of these three ponies alongside template portraits—the only discernable difference between them being their race, gender, and colours. The top of the page also featured strict instructions reminding us that none of the ponies on this list could find out that Equestria had files on them. Not that there was anything sinister going on—It would just be a little hard to explain.

"It was that guy."

I jumped and whirled around to see my captain—frigid water dripping from her maw onto my shoulder. Two leather flasks, labelled with an 'M' and an 'F', respectively, were bouncing against her chest. She brought the third flask to her mouth and tipped it upside down.

"Uh…" I uttered.

She pointed to the first picture—a headshot of a brown-and-blue pegasus in profile. A little drawing of a crown was next to him, which I assumed was his cutie mark. "Ah… I’m sure of it. Chef-kidnapper. It's in his eyes."

I blinked a couple times at the flask she was holding, but when she looked at me I broke eye contact immediately and turned my attention to where she was pointing.

"That's… the King," I said. "King Pinery the Second."

"Oh, but ask yourself this. If he’s the Second, what happened to the First, y'know?"

The current king's age was written beside his name in the dossier. He was thirty-four.

"I think he… passed away, probably," I guessed.

Minerva gasped. "Oh, shit. The plot thickens! Hey, TERRY!” she barked at her reclining lieutenant. "You gotta hear this shit!"

Terrain took in a deep breath through his nose and released it through his mouth. He gradually rolled up to his hooves and trotted over—opening his eyes when he was halfway to us. "What is it?"

"Check it out," Minerva buzzed, "The king murdered his dad and then kidnapped the chef out of spite!"

The lieutenant halted and recoiled like he’d walked in on a decomposing rat. "No more Prancy Drew novels for you," he advised.

"What? It's plausible. Who else we got, Fog?"

The next pony on the list was another stallion and another pegasus. He had swampy-green fur and a charcoal mane. His cutie mark was a rusted hacksaw, and his description was only three unsettling words long.

'Beware of Charles.'

I gulped hard. Too hard, really. My friends probably heard. "Commander… Fellsaw," I read. "He runs the Pinery Guard. We're reporting to him and the King for as long as we’re there."

Minerva swallowed another swig of water and exhaled. "I don't like him already. Who else?"

"Queen Nevergreen," I read from the third and final entry. A sky blue unicorn with a blond mane. Her cutie mark was a needle. Not one from a pine tree, surprisingly enough, but one meant for sewing, and with a yellow string through the slender hole in the top to prove it.

Minerva whistled. "She looks pretty, damn."

The lieutenant chimed in, "You're gleaning an awful lot from coloured-in templates."

"Yeah, I'm just that good at this."

"Well, I hope it's out of your system, because detective work stops when we get there."

Minerva threw her head back and groaned. "Celestia on fire! You know I’m captain here, right?"

Terrain plucked a page out of the bundle I was holding and placed it right in front of Minerva’s nose. Page 1 of our instructions. "A captain with orders. What's got you so keen, anyways?"

"Gee, Terry." Minerva snatched another page out of the air and held it up to Terrain’s face. The teamsheet, with our own portraits and skillsets listed in descending order. "It's not like I wanna nail my first mission as captain or anything."

The lieutenant took both sheets and put them back in the pile, and then patted her on the back. "See? There you go."

She scowled in response. "You suck at sarcasm."

"You suck at counter-sarcasm."

Terrain turned to leave the conversation, but Minerva didn’t let him get far. She leapt over the lieutenant’s head, flasks banging around the whole way. She landed in front of him and placed her hoof on his sap-covered chest, taking a moment to make a displeased sound at the state of the chevrons.

"Terry, I have a challenge for you," she said.

"Goodie."

"I want you to look me in the eyes… and tell me you aren't a little bit interested in using that big smart brain of yours to find this chef-lady."

Terrain opened his mouth, but Minerva cut him off.

"And then! We tell Celestia that we went above and beyond what we were asked to do! All for the good of our allies, y’know?"

I couldn't help but smile.

Terrain closed his mouth. "Her Highness… would like that," he conceded.

"That’s badge-of-honour shit right there."

"Well, that's wishful."

"Are you in?"

Terrain let out a long hum and blew his mane out of his eyes. "If you leave the thinking to me."

That was the only obvious conclusion. At least, it was obvious to anypony who knew who the lieutenant was. Not only did he never shy away from a puzzle, but he actively sought them out. There wasn’t a single mystery back at the academy that he couldn’t solve before anypony else. Mysteries like:

'Who stole from the armory?'

'Who stole the Major’s fake moustache?'

'Who shaved off the General’s real moustache in his sleep?'

I remember I told him once, after he had solved the curious case of the egged stallion's wing, that it was very kind of him to always solve the academy's runaway mysteries. That way, he wasn't giving anypony else a chance to botch them.

And he told me that was a really weird thing to say. Which goes to show he was modest, too.

Minerva flicked the cap of the flask she had drank from earlier, letting it spin off onto the ground. "Fine. But if Foghorn's doing the talking, and you're doing the thinking, then what does that leave me?"

Terrain had an answer prepared, but had to stop and rethink it when she took another gulp of fresh water.

"Oh, I dunno… You could start with learning what letter your name starts with."

Minerva slowly brought down her drink and curled her upper lip. "My name starts with 'M'," she asserted.

Terrain snatched the flask and pressed the front of it to her face. The middle of the 'T' that was clearly scratched into it sat right between her nostrils.

"Oh, hah! My bad. I had no idea."

"Uh-huh."

The lieutenant slung the leather strap of the flask off of his captain's neck and onto his in one swift motion. Brushing past her, he made a sour march towards the river, pouring the remaining water into the grass.

"Best captain ever..." he mumbled as he passed me.

I giggled.

Minerva did not. Instead, she watched her lieutenant with an impatient look as he reached the edge of the river and rinsed his flask out.

"Why are you reading that thing, anyways?" she asked me, but she was still focused on Terrain.

I looked down at the pages in my hooves and sighed. I wasn't even sure anymore.

"Oh, no reason… Just, um… Captain?"

"Yeah, Fog?"

"Why are you smiling like that?"

"Hold on a sec."

Minerva shot off towards the riverbank, gliding low and quiet through the air, and sending every page of the dossier flying in different directions. I didn’t even bother snatching at them. Instead, I watched her skid to a stop before the unsuspecting earth pony and dig her front hooves under his back ones.

Terrain became a suspecting earth pony, but he was a hair too late.

"What the… Don’t you DA—!"

The captain thrust her wings down and threw her front hooves up, flipping her lieutenant in the air like a kicking, screaming pancake.

"I'LL KICK YOUR SORRY—!"

splash.

Face-first.

"Ohhh…" I murmured.

Once he resurfaced and knocked the water out of his ears, Minerva called out to him, "And don't come out until your armor and your attitude both SPARKLE!"

Terrain crinkled his nose. "And don't come out unti—"

His flask landed in front of him, splashing water in his mouth. He choked it out and smacked the bottle away.

Minerva the Brave twisted on her hooves and cantered back towards me, grinning like an athlete who had just beaten their own personal record.

"That was a good idea," she confided in me.

"Wow," I said. "You lured him to the water by drinking from his flask?"

"…Yes. Yes, I did. Thanks for noticing."

"Wow."

My friends were so smart.