The Disappearance of Harissa Honeycomb

by Miller Minus

5 – The Sunken Balcony

Prika was the perfect kind of navigator. Not only did she guide me back to my friends with as little to go on as 'front hall and turn left', but she got me there as promptly as a mother dragging her colt to school after he'd slept in ten minutes too late.

She was a talker, too—regaling me with stories, tales and anecdotes of all the great ponies in Castle Pinery I was going to meet. I mean, every pony she mentioned just sounded like another pony I could fail to introduce myself to, but still! At least she was trying to distract me from the fact that I was running through a castle I had never seen (and still could not see) with only a high-pitched, disembodied voice to guide the way. Who needed a candle when you had a native pegasus to show you the way?

The answer is me. I needed a candle. Talented tour guide in tow or not, I was still happy to see the hovering ball of light bouncing off the two sets of armor that matched mine, even if that meant seeing the hunched-over commander and his loyal candle-holding dog.

I got right to work apologizing, but I was beaten to the punch by my new companion.

"Sorry!" she exclaimed. "I distracted him! He didn't miss much, did he?"

I wished I had met her first and not third.

Charles growled at me, and I came embarrassingly close to apologizing and correcting my thought to 'fourth'.

But no, Charles the bullmastiff was not psychic. He just hated me. Twisting on his paws, he galloped away from his master, muzzle pointed at me. The candle dropped out of the air and the chain skidded away from the commander, who elected to save his light source instead of me.

The dog leapt towards me, but Prika swooped in and caught him in midair like a professional hoofball player catching the winning throw.

"Hey, Chaaaarliiiiieeeee!" she sang, nuzzling her cheek against his. "I missed you too!"

The dog kicked and seethed—saliva dripping from both corners of its mouth. His tail, however, gave him away.

"You haven't missed anything," Terrain assured me as Prika held the bullmastiff up by its front paws and took him on a waltz around the group.

"That's good," I replied, breaking eye contact with him and Minerva as quickly as I could. It wasn't always easy to notice when you've inconvenienced your friends, but I had gotten very good at spotting it.

"I'd say he's missed everything," the commander interjected. "The tour is already over."

"Huh? But… you took us down one hallway!" Minerva protested.

"Two hallways!" the commander corrected, "And I'd say you've been downright spoiled. Because they are very typical hallways. Lucky for you three, you've seen one, you've seen 'em all."

Terrain frowned. "And… kitchens, barracks, storage rooms…"

"Oh, we have those, sure. But since you three will be patrolling the same hallways every waking hour of every meaningless day you spend here, I don't see a reason why I should show you anything else."

"Oh, c'mon, Commander!" Prika pleaded, still holding the beast in her grasp. "These guys are Equestrians! They're the real deal! They could help us find H—"

"PRIKA!"

The sous-chef dropped to the floor and released the dog, who cowered underneath her wing. But for all the shock Fellsaw had given them, he'd done the most damage to himself. He buckled over and coughed these horrible, sopping-wet coughs, over and over into his hoof. Charles crept towards him and sat by his side, and the commander patted his dog with a spare hoof when his lungs gave him a break.

"Fine… You want a tour?" he wheezed. "I'll give you a spoken tour. We have a throne room. Our guards train in the courtyard out back. There's a laundry room where you can wash the syrup and alcohol off of your little costumes."

I looked down at my chevrons. They were a bit dirty.

"We have a kitchen and dining hall for the royals, and a kitchen and dining hall for the rest of us. Breakfast is at sunrise. And hey!" he shouted with a crack in his voice, "There's a chapel in the dead center of the castle, so if one of you idiots gets yourself killed, you can still talk to each other there. Will that do?!"

Commander Fellsaw set the candle down on the floor. He needed both front hooves for the returning storm of coughs. Harder and harder he sputtered, like he was exorcising an inner demon all on his own. Terrain and I backed away, while Minerva stood her ground and let out an impressed whistle.

Prika inched forward and raised a hoof to the sickly stallion's shoulder. A hoof which he immediately smacked away. She gasped and stepped back, rubbing the offending appendage.

"I'm going to bed," the commander muttered as the coughs petered away. "If there aren't any other concerns."

"I have one," Terrain said.

"Make it quick…"

"You said 'if one of us gets ourselves killed'. Are we in danger, sir?"

The commander straightened his back and took in a long, shaking wheeze. "Lieutenant Terrain, was it?"

"Yes, sir."

"Let me ask you… What do you three plan on doing here?"

"Our plans are your plans, sir. We were told to follow your orders."

"Oh, yeah? Well I don't remember ordering you to lie."

"Sir?"

The commander drew two imaginary circles around me and my superiors. "I've met Equestrians before… Nosy, naïve little ponies hell-bent on saving the day… No matter how many walls you have to knock over to do it."

The damaged pegasus heaved a few times into his foreleg as the coughs threatened to return. He swallowed hard and glowered at the three of us, and even Prika, in succession.

"Listen carefully. The only way you three will be in danger is if you go snooping in places where you aren't welcome. You've arrived knowing nothing of our affairs, and I suggest you leave the same way. Do I make myself clear?"

"Not at all," Terrain answered. "What is it you think we might uncover?"

I wished Terrain would stop prying, but not as much as Fellsaw. He rolled out a kink in his neck and approached us, peering into Terrain's inert eyes and baring his teeth. "The thing about uncovering secrets, little lieutenant… is that those who hold them might not react kindly."

"Noted. That was my only concern."

The commander let out a tsk, but he was so close to Terrain that he might as well have spat on him. The lieutenant shut his eyes, but didn't respond otherwise.

With that, the commander snatched the candle off the floor and made to leave, dragging Charles's chain along with him. The dog ran to catch up, accepted the candle on his head again, and turned back to snarl at Terrain one final time.

"Commander, wait!" Prika called after him.

Fellsaw stopped in his tracks, but didn't turn around. "…What."

"I'm just… I'm sorry about… Harissa."

That made him turn. "What are you apologizing for?"

Prika waved her hooves in the air. "N-nothing, Commander! I just meant… In general, I…"

The young mare couldn't help but trail off. Everypony in the room could fill in the blanks, though—including the commander, who let out a raspy sigh.

"I am sorry too, Prika," he said, voice shaking. "Harissa… She was a good friend of mine."

"Yeah… I know what you mean. If there's anything I can do to help… Just say the word."

The commander arched his back, took in the stale, piney air through a noticeably clogged nose, and blew it out through his mouth. "Okay," he replied.

"…Okay?" Prika asked.

"Yes. Meet me in the dungeon after you’ve tucked our little friends in."

Minerva poked Terrain and I in our cheeks with the tips of her wings. "They have a dungeon!" she whispered. "I repeat—!"

"Mute," Terrain said, resting a hoof on the captain's nose, and earning himself an elbow to the ribcage.

"Y—… You want me to help?" Prika stuttered.

"Yes. Unless you don’t want to?"

"N-No, sir! I do, I'll be there!" Prika saluted, and I could almost hear the spark of joy that let off in her heart.

As the commander and his nightstand-with-teeth made his way out of sight, our only light source went with him. I quickly opened a window up above to let in some sparse rays of moonlight.

"Please don't hold that against him,” Prika said when the stallion and his hound were out of earshot. "He's… going through a lot. He's normally pretty gentle with guests."

"Maybe forty years ago," Minerva jabbed.

"…He’s thirty-five," Prika and I said together. She gave me a curious look, which I avoided like a pro.

*****

Like any good show, the tour went on, even without Commander Fellsaw. It was also greatly improved as a result.

Who knew?

True, we had no light, but we did have Prika, who had a real knack for making the castle glow. Which was good, because although Princess Celestia had done a dynamite job (as usual) raising the moon, she couldn't exactly light up the castle from every angle. Still, it was a small price to pay to not being growled at. By Fellsaw or his hellbeast.

But although the commander was out of the picture, his presence still lingered in a way. For the Pinery Guard patrolled the castle that night.

I took to calling them the commander's 'spirits', because of the way they stalked the hallways, chattering away with each other when they were in the distance, becoming eerily silent as we passed them, and then starting up again when they were (almost) out of range. Plus, they all looked at us the same way Fellsaw did. Not that they wanted to look at us. There were only a few spirits that did, and they never failed to curse and look away afterwards like they had just disobeyed orders.

"Don't worry about them," Prika assured us. "They're just on high alert. You’re lucky I'm here!"

"They seem equally wary of you," Terrain commented.

He wasn't wrong. All four of us were being haunted.

"Uh… Yeah, I guess. I mean… I think… they just don't like where I'm standing? So to speak?"

Terrain hummed. "They liked Harissa."

"Yeah, exactly… There's just nobody like her. She knew everyone's favourite meals and… favourite jokes and… We all want her back. Most of all me."

"Why most of all you?" Terrain questioned.

The sous-chef's voice shook. "Uh… Did I say that?"

"Lighten up, Terry!" Minerva said. "Like seriously, if you could give off some light… would be super helpful. Fog, don’t you know any light spells?"

I gulped. "Uh… No. I mean, if I could see something, I could levitate it, which does a little bit, but…"

"You're cut," Minerva joked. Or at least, I was pretty sure she was joking. Until I remembered she definitely had the power to do that. And arguably the right.

"There's no need!" Prika announced. "Look over there!"

It was faint, but there was an opening in the darkness up ahead. A blurry, navy blue glow piercing the side of the black castle walls, like a portal to another world. Its edges gleamed orange and yellow.

We all sped up, drawn to the light of a perhaps-unattended candle. We found it, supported by the railing at the edge of a balcony. Unfortunately for us, that railing was also supporting the two front hooves of the candle's bearer, who was overlooking a sea of glorious, green trees below the castle. She was a unicorn.

A unicorn with a shining, blonde mane and fur as blue as the night sky above her.

And that's when a fresh dose of anxiety started to settle to the bottom of my stomach.

Contact # 3. Queen Nevergreen.

Once again, the drawing in the dossier didn't do the real thing justice. Because the pony scrawled on that page next to her name was any old mare. One you might pass in the street or see shopping at a local store without even noticing. If you saw this mare at the store? You would notice, and you would probably bow.

Not that you could get too close. She was protected on all sides by a long silken gown made of a translucent blue and accented with a thousand shimmering stars. It was thrice as large as it needed to be, covering most of the balcony, and even being munched on by the darkness inside the castle.

And perhaps it was the edges of the gown, made of thin, woven ribbons, curling upwards towards the ceiling like they were tied to it by invisible strings. Or perhaps it was the tips of her wavy hair, curving upwards towards the sky, as if she was loosely tethered to the stars above her. But as her image resolved, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was walking underwater.

An insignificant current passed her from left to right, slightly pushing the upturned bottoms of her hair back and forth, like bleached seaweed soaking in what little the moon could offer her from so far down.

I felt the pressure, shrinking my entire body. The lack of oxygen around me. I took one, tiny, tired, terrified step forward, and tried to breathe in, but found nothing on the ocean floor.

Terrain stood in front of me.

"I'll take this one," was all that he said, and I was able to resurface.

"Alright," I gasped. "…If you… want to…"

He approached the queen, taking care not to tread on her engulfing clothes, and I took four whole steps back, nearly bumping into Minerva.

"Good evening, Your Majesty," Terrain began. Already nailing his greeting.

The queen turned her head, and revealed a face almost completely hidden with makeup. It was quite the design. White, shining fog obscured her cheek, like a galaxy hidden in her fur. She had a tiny, arcing slice of a crescent moon to complete the picture, both points forming a pincer around her solid blue eyes—they themselves outlined by a thick coating of black eyeliner.

Or did her eyes just look like that?

When she met Terrain's gaze, she inhaled and spun her whole body around, casting a spell to throw most of her dress over her back. Her movement was quick, but somehow, she still seemed like she moved in slow motion.

She scanned each of us, pupils growing smaller with every new face. But when she got to Prika, she found a way to exhale. She let her dress back down, spilling it over the railing.

"Sorry for the shock," she said—her voice as smooth and dark as pine syrup. A faint smile appeared under her makeup, and she let out that small, relaxed hum that Princess Celestia made whenever she was in thought.

"I should think that's my line," Terrain said, transitioning perfectly into a bow that all four of us followed. "Apologies for sneaking up on you."

As we stood back up, the Queen gasped again and poked her head in Terrain's direction. "Your eyes," she cooed with wonder. "You are from Caspia."

Terrain shook his head. "You are mistaken, Your Majesty. My name is Terrain, and I hail from Equestria."

Nevergreen took in every detail in his armor. "So it seems. Tell me, Terrain… Is Equestria pretty this time of year?"

"Your question confuses me."

"Why?"

"Your Majesty, Equestria is year-round beautiful."

The queen's eyelids fluttered closed, and she hummed again. "I don't doubt you." She gradually spun back to the mountainside vista and placed her hooves back on the railing. "Do you think that my forest could be part of Equestria?"

"I think we are remiss without it."

Damnit, Terrain was smooth. I tried to figure out why I didnt suggest he do the talking instead of me. He was a natural! I wish I had a scroll and a quill to take notes, but then I realized I would look ridiculous if I was the only one doing it.

"May I ask you a question?" Terrain inquired.

"Certainly."

"Who are you mourning?"

The queen's candle holder glowed a dark blue, rotating gently in place. "Do I have to be mourning someone?" she answered. "Can I not… just mourn?"

"I think the queen of her country can do whatever she wants."

The queen turned her head to look at Terrain. It was a moderate pace, but it was noticeably faster than she'd been moving so far. "You think your eyes give your origin away," she said as the space between her eyebrows creased. "But it is your words."

Terrain didn’t reply. Not that he didn’t have an answer (having answers was kind of his thing), but he elected to shrug his shoulders and enjoy the view himself instead.

A cloud passed in front of the moon, turning the royal mare just that subtle shade darker. A strong gust of wind threatened to blow out the candle, but a magic blue shield protected it just in time.

Prika shifted her weight from her front hooves to her back. She opened her mouth twice, but nothing came out.

Meanwhile, Minerva found herself without reservation. "Hey!" she blurted. She stepped forward, nearly treading on the silk gown, but catching herself just in time. "Since we're all asking questions…"

The queen turned and smiled at Minerva. Slowly this time.

"Who made your dress? It's… something else."

"I did. I am a seamstress."

From a foggy piece of silk on her flank, I saw the needle and thread cutie mark. I didn't look long, though; staring felt unforgivably rude.

"Oh, yeah?" Minerva continued, a dangerous smirk forming on her face. "Hey, if I find Harissa, would you make me a dress?"

Terrain"s entire body revolted, and for a moment I thought he might have a seizure. He spun back to his captain and shot at her, "What is wrong with you?"

"What?!" Minerva shot back. "I'm just asking, y'know?"

The queen raised a single hoof, and everypony went quiet. "Miss…?"

"Minerva! Captain Minerva, actually."

"Minerva… Like the dragon?"

"I dunno if I like her. I've never met her."

A subtle hum buzzed in the queen’s throat. "Such charm," she commended. "Miss Minerva?"

"Yeah?"

"If you brought Harissa back to us… I would make you one thousand dresses."

Terrain's ears flicked back and forth.

"But I would not condone it," Queen Nevergreen decreed. "I don't want any of you to get hurt."

Minerva tapped her nose. "Loud and clear," she said with a wink.

"I am not joking," the queen maintained. "I don't want to have to tell your lovely Princess that something happened to you while you were here."

"She's pretty tough," Minerva said. "Almost as tough as me."

"I don't doubt you. But please," the queen pleaded, and to the audible surprise of everypony present, she bowed to Minerva.

"Uh... okay, sure," Minerva said, returning the bow in kind.

"Thank you," the queen said as she rose again. "And do be careful."

Queen Nevergreen announced her departure in the way only a pony of her stature could. Silently. She started by floating the candle holder into the air and over towards me, of all ponies. I wondered if I should announce my name or something, as neither of my friends had introduced me, but I decided that keeping my mouth shut was working really well. I replaced her levitation spell with my own, and nodded to her.

And it must have been a much better nod this time, because she nodded right back. I chuckled with satisfaction. She raised an eyebrow. I cleared my throat and nodded again. This time, I got nothing in return.

Ruined it.

The scintillating mare strode away from the balcony—the four of us all parting way for her after her first step. Terrain, Minerva and I bowed. Prika, however, did not.

"Cheer…" the sous-chef started, but she bit her tongue.

The queen halted. "Speak if you wish, Prika," she ordered politely.

"Sorry, I was just gonna say… Cheer up!" Prika squeaked. She didn’t make eye contact. "We'll find her… I know we will! We… can't give up."

The queen closed her eyes and nodded. She approached her subject, placed her hoof behind her neck and took her in a close embrace. Prika gasped, and her wings fell out from her back.

"Thank you for caring, little Prika. You know, you fill Harissa's shoes very, very well."

Prika's eyes glistened, and she found no way to respond.

*****

The grand tour of Castle Pinery ended with the Queen, and Prika never fully recovered. The shimmer from her warning tears never dried out, and we spent the last leg of our journey to our rooms in total silence—Prika thinking about whatever was bothering her, and the rest of us wondering the same.

She talked when we got to our rooms. Which was a real shame, because when I saw the freshly made beds in the corner of my eye, my legs started to buckle in anticipation. Meeting the ponies of Pinery had taken a lot out of me—even more than the ten hours of walking I'd put in that day. But for the distraught sous-chef, I would have been home free.

"Hey, you guys don't think it was me, do you?"

Terrain and Minerva had travelled just as far as me—I mean, obviously—so I knew they must have been pining for sleep too. But when Prika said that, they became awful curious.

Minerva countered right away, "We don't think what was you?"

"You don't think that I... kidnapped Harissa, do you?"

That set my friends off—Minerva with thickly veiled (but still observable) excitement, and Terrain with questions. Three of them, because that was all he ever needed.

"Why would it be you?" was his first.

"It's just... I mean, with Harissa… out of the picture…so to speak," she shuddered, "I kinda... I don't know how to say this…"

"You took her place?" The second question.

"Yeah, and with that comes... access… to the royal kitchen and... Harissa’s... payroll..."

"Don't think you earned it?" The final question.

"That's the thing, I don't! I still have so much to learn from her… I don't know, it's just..." The sous-chef's tears threatened to leak out faster than her words. "Everypony thinks it was... me... and—"

"It wasn't you," Terrain concluded.

"It... it wasn't?" Prika sniffed. She looked to Minerva and I for confirmation. We both just sort of shrugged.

"He's kinda good at what he does," Minerva admitted, much to Terrain’s amusement.

"Oh, that must have stung."

Minerva jabbed him, "Quiet, you. I can be nice."

"Oh, thank you!" Prika elated, rushing over to Minerva to give her a hug. She paid the same respect to the three of us in descending order and rubbed the last signs that she'd been crying off her face. "See you tomorrow! It's pancakes for breakfast!"

Minerva, Terrain and I crouched down in unison—our stomachs twisting in pain and regret.

"Okay!" Prika laughed. "I'll whip something else up!"

The sprightly young mare zoomed up the stairs and out of sight, leaving us with our single candle and our two rooms. One for stallions, and one not for stallions. When Prika was gone I had to fight with everything I had to not sprint into our room and leap into whichever bed was closer. I could worry about taking my armor off in the morning.

But I didn't want to seem too eager. So I waited for one of my superiors to move first.

Terrain filled the role. His back half faltered and he let the weight spin him around towards the doorway. I made to follow him in, but he was blocked off by a purple hoof nearly punching him in the chin as it slammed into the door frame. Even before she removed it, I knew she had left a dent in the wood.

Terrain grumbled and rested his forehead on the Captain's foreleg.

"Alright, Lieutenant," she said. "What've you got?"

"Tired legs."

"Besides that."

"A mosquito problem."

"Damnit, Terry!"

"I don't know, okay? We’ve met four of them."

"I'm not asking you to solve it!" Minerva clarified. "I'm asking you to tell us who we can trust!"

Terrain brought his head off the blockade. He pulled the front of his armor down and cleared his throat. "Alright. Prika. Can I go to bed now?"

"Who else?" Minerva persisted.

"That's as far as I can throw them right now."

"No shit? Not even the King?"

Terrain grumbled. "Patriarchs…"

"What about the Queen?" I asked. "You seemed to get along pretty well."

"Oh!" Minerva gasped, waving her hoof in the air. "Pick me! Pick me!"

The way to our room was open for a mere second, and Terrain almost dashed for it, but Minerva flew in front of it just in time, still with her hoof raised.

Terrain rubbed his eyes. "I'm curious if Foghorn knows."

I gulped. "The Queen? She seemed… fine to me."

"Ooo! Ooo-damnit-oooooo!"

Terrain shook his head, "O-kay… The purple pegasus blocking the way to paradise…?"

"KNIFE!" Minerva shouted.

"Knife?" I asked.

"Knife," Terrain confirmed. "Strapped around her waist. Concealed by the dress."

"Or so she thought!"

I dropped my head in shame. Reason #7,647 that I was leagues behind these two. And the next reason was that I still didn't understand even after being told. "Does that mean we can't trust her, though?" I asked. "You guys have swords… I mean… she's probably scared, right?"

"She's terrified," Terrain said. "Celestia knows she has every right. Some poor mare was kidnapped in her castle. What if she's next?"

"So she can't be trusted?" I followed up.

"It's not that I don't trust her. It's just simple math. Knife plus scared mare equals… Well, that's an equation that's better left without a solution." He hissed at Minerva, "Now?"

She relented, but she definitely didn't do it right away.

"Alright, get some sleep, boys!" she said as she ushered us into our room. Terrain shuffled in, slid his bags off his back and kicked them under the frame of the closest bed. I followed and kept our candle behind him. It was mostly just a pool of wax and a wick now, but it was all we had.

Terrain hoisted himself up and collapsed flat on his side, and then groaned like he'd just been stabbed.

"Oh, great," he croaked, "Imported mattresses…"

"From where?" I asked.

"Tartarus."

I flipped the sheet off my own bed, and found that there was no mattress at all. Just a flat wooden plank at the same height as the bedframe. And on top of that plank was a smattering of hay that was downright sarcastic.

"You two slept like logs, on logs," Minerva reminded us. "I swear, if I hear bitching through these paper-thin walls…"

"I hope you sleep well, too, Captain…" Terrain murmured from inside the pillow.

"Yeah! Sleep well, boys. Big day tomorrow!" she declared as she creaked the door towards her. "Big, big, big day."

Terrain craned his head up—the doomed candle next to him reflecting in those ensnaring green eyes. "What's so special about tomorrow?"

Minerva stopped the door with just a crack left. Only the corner of her mouth could be seen, but its curl made the rest of her face easy to assume.

"Isn't it obvious?" she said.

Terrain looked at me. "No…"

The candle died between us.

"We're gonna catch the guy that kidnapped Harissa."

Comments

[Starlight Nova]

If Minerva, Terrain, and Foghorn were voiced, what would they sound like? Does Foghorn sound like Foghorn Leghorn?

[Miller Minus]

8050795

Correct! And Minerva would have the same voice as Minnie Mouse, while Terrain would be voiced by Terry Crews.