The Tome of Faust

by DungeonMiner

Chapter 9

When Cut explained that the unicorn nobles simply live off their fortunes, he was not quite correct. If that were true, Mouse learned, then they would have stayed in Unicornia, living off the farms they own, while cursing the incredibly massive agricultural output of the Earth ponies. In fact, most noble families that moved to Equestria had little to begin with. They came to build their fortunes much in the same way the nobles of old has built theirs.

Farmland was quickly bought by Earth ponies, and anypony that tried to compete with their natural abilities to grow anywhere and in nearly any soil would soon find themselves broke without a copper bit to their name. So, instead the unicorns focused on more economic pursuits. They bought shops, set up banks, and most importantly, they made magic.

Magical items, specifically. By using gemstones of various cuts and carats, a unicorn of sufficient skill can create a spell matrix, a system to cast a spell using any pony’s natural magic. Magical bags, blades, cloaks, amulets, even the very rare, very expensive and very special spell staves were all built, enchanted and sold by unicorns.

As a result, unicorn nobles tend to spend most of their time studying the magical pursuit, and even the lowest noble was a powerful wizard in their own right.

Now, perhaps Cut misunderstood their scholarly lifestyle, and misjudged the source of their wealth. Sap argued that Cut just hated unicorns. Honestly, Mouse didn't really believe either one was the case, but he didn’t care. He was far more focused on his first, real job.

The wealthiest of unicorn nobles, one of whom was Mouse’s target, were landowners. They did not, however, own farmland, instead they had mines. The lifeblood of every enchanter was gemstones, and the pony the controlled the gemstones, controlled the nobles beneath him.

Lady Ruby was one such noble, and owned the mine in the nearby mountain just outside of Baltimare. She made millions of gold bits selling the gems to Canterlot and Manehatten, as well as a few thousand on the three or so enchanted pieces she produced in a month. With the amount of gold passing through her hooves, Mouse wondered why they hadn’t already robbed her blind.

“You can’t take food from the same pot everytime,” Sap said, slightly incoherently as he enjoyed some more of his surplus drugs, “cause otherwise, it empties, and you can’t eat anymore.”

It was not the best metaphor, but Mouse understood. Besides, he thought now that the idea was in his head, it probably also kept the guards guessing and lazy, so they weren’t constantly watching for his fellow thieves.

The job was straightforward, if not simple. The Lady’s latest magical item, a set of daggers, needed to be taken. Sap said their employer didn’t care what happened to them he just wanted them gone, so the head of the Baltimare branch said Mouse could keep them if he wanted.

Mouse, personally was intrigued to know that they had an employer.

He never got an answer as to who that was. Instead he was told that they had come into a streak of good fortune. This was the perfect night for the job, since the Princess just announced a day of mourning for Clover the Clever, who had died of a sudden and serious illness the other day.

Mouse asked when that was announced.

He didn’t get an answer to that one either.

“The streets will be empty, there’d only be a small number of guards on the street, and even few servants at the mansion.”

Also is no one going to question the illness? You’re all just going to believe that?

No answers to those either.

Eventually, he was pushed out from the hideout and pointed in the direction of her mansion. Mouse sighed as he refocused on the place, trying to set his questions aside as he tried to find the best way in.

Lady Ruby’s mansion sat on a small hill on the edge of the city, where she owned a large plot of land that stretched on for five or six acres. The mansion itself was three stories tall, and wide enough to fit five of the other Baltimare houses between the walls.

It was both opulent, and a lot of ground to cover.

The rest of her land was a series of gardens, orchards, and flowerbeds that were tended to by a number of earth pony servants. He did see some of the gardens, and even he was impressed with what he saw. Beautiful rows of purple, red, and white flowers all perfectly organized and lush. It was as though Mother Nature had simply come by, and organized this plot of land. There was not a branch that needed pruning, nor a flower out of place.

A thought about trying to disguise himself as one of the gardeners did cross his mind, but he was sure that a unicorn would stand out a bit.

He focused again on the mansion, and contemplated on the best point of entry. The windows were out of the question for anyone that wasn’t a pegasus, while the front door was no doubt suicide.

Of course, he still had to figure out where to go once inside. What he did know was that he would have to figure it out soon, as night was fast approaching.

Another idea came to him, and his eyes were drawn over to the open cellar where a handful of earth ponies were moving barrels of fruits and vegetables. That...that was a bit more manageable.

All he had to do was wait.

When the time came, Mouse slid into the cellar, his lockpicking spell working through the simple lock with ease. It was dark down here, but Mouse didn’t have much trouble, the time in the Canterlot prison still kept his eyes sharp for the shadows.

Looking around he found himself surrounded by barrels. Cured carrots, pickles, dried apples, candied oranges, and the like all surrounded him. Food filled the room, building walls of barrels and consumables throughout the whole of the room.

First he checked the barrels. After all, he had to make sure that the barrels of dried apples weren’t mislabeled as a part of some devious plot to smuggle the daggers out. He also had to eat a healthy portion of them to make sure they were also not suspect.

With his initial findings coming up inconclusive, he quickly began to move towards the doorway. He climbed up the flight of wooden stairs, pausing with every creak and crack that they offered when he climbed them.

Maybe he should have prayed to Luna.

He still wasn’t sure what to think about the supposed gods that lived in Equestria. Half the gang prayed to them, the other half didn’t, some said they were real, others said they weren’t. It was a constant back and forth between the two.

As for himself, Mouse wasn’t sure if they were real or not. Yes, it would be easy to blame them for his awful childhood, but it was also easy to blame random chance. Honestly, he wasn’t sure which, and he had spent enough of his teenage years blaming fate that he didn’t care much anymore.

It was in the past, it was time to move forward, and if the gods were offering help for the price of a prayer, then why not take it?

“Praise Luna, goddess of moonlight, hide me in the shadow of your wings,” he muttered, repeating the prayer that he had heard Cut and the faithful thieves offered. “Grant me the swiftness of night, and the vision of stars. So be it.”

With his prayer finished, he moved on, pressing against the door softly until it cracked open. Light shone in from the hallway, and the Mouse blinked crazily from the sudden change. Candlelight flickered from unseen candelabras, decorating the hallway in long, flickering shadows as warm yellow light danced across the walls.

He saw no one, and heard nothing, and summoning all his daring, he pushed forward through the door. The hallway was empty, as he had hoped, and he risked a sigh of relief once he was sure he was alone.

With that, he prepared his invisibility spell, and shimmered out of sight. Now covered by his spell, he felt more at ease, and he quickly began to move. He checked down the hallway, searching for anything that may give a hint as the locations of the daggers. He moved quickly, staying on the rich carpet so that his hoofsteps would be silent as he moved.

And then he paused.

The smell of spiced fruit and vegetables wafted under his nose, when suddenly the door next to him shot open.

“Oi! Careful with the door, you clutz!” A voice yelled, as Mouse nearly leapt from his skin. He shuffled quickly, moving to the side of the hallway as he tried to make room for a silver cart that was being pushed into the hall by a couple of earth ponies.

“What? You saying she can’t afford a new door? It’s fine,” one of the earth ponies pushing the cart said before his partner slapped him upside the head.

“She can afford a new door, you can’t and if you damage that door, it’s coming out of your pay,” the mare said, as she pushed the cart forward.

“Eh, fine!” the young stallion muttered. “Of course, it’s not like she actually leaves her workshop long enough to see the other doors.”

“Keep thinking like that and you’ll be on the streets before you know it,” the older mare said.

Clinging to the wall, Mouse watched as the two ponies moved, pushing the cart down the hall to another room.

“You worry too much,” the stallion said, smirking. “Like I said, it’s not like she leaves her little study. If she doesn't leave, she won't see then. Then again, it ain't healthy, so she probably won't live long anyway.”

“She already has left,” she replied, “she just finished a major project, she’s taking her dinner in her bedroom, or did you not hear that?”

The conversation went back and forth a bit, the stallion going on about how Lady Ruby was a lazy, weak shut in, that was probably going to die soon anyway if her health didn't improve, while the mare kept coming to the Lady’s defense.

Mouse was just happy that it was masking his hoofsteps.

They pushed the cart down to a another door, which opened to reveal a wooden floor, ropes, and a strange series of dears and pulleys.

“You know, I have to wonder what she does in there,” the stallion said as he lifted the cart over the lip of the large dumbwaiter.

“She does her work,” the mare answered, as if that were the most obvious answer in the world.

“Does she though?” the stallion asked. “I mean, you’ve heard the stories of the unicorn nobles.”

“Herb, she does not—”

“They can’t all be wrong,” Herb said. “Like at least one of those stories has to be true.”

Mouse was barely paying attention, he was more concerned with judging whether or not he could fit in the dumbwaiter with them.

“Look, all I’m saying is, Earthonia kept saying the unicorns had crazy orgies with magical ghosts, and with how much our lady is probably unhinged, I wouldn't be surprised.”

Mouse did pause at that.

The mare shook her head and hid her face in her hoof. “You are the biggest idiot.”

“She shuts herself in there for days at a time, and when she finally comes out, she tired and sweaty and—”

“Just shut up,” she said, as she pushed the cart in, with Mouse squeezing in. “Get us up there,” she ordered.

“Look, I’m not seeing evidence to the—”

“I said get us up there. If you want proof, you can you check the workshop yourself.”

Now that caught Mouse’s attention. If he was going to be led straight to the daggers, then this was going to be easy. All he had to do was follow this Herb guy and it would be a done deal.

The dumbwaiter lurched, and it began to rise as Herb worked a set of pedals to get the dumbwaiter moving. He grunted. “It’s...a...little tough tonight…” he said as he worked them.

Mouse figured that he was to blame for that, and just hoped that Herb would keep blaming the sticky gears.

Up and up they went, past the second floor and to the third, when Herb quickly kicked a wedge into place, locking them in place. “Alright, gosh that was harder than normal.”

“Come on,” the mare said, opening the dumbwaiter door, “we’ve kept the Lady waiting long enough.”

They moved forward, rolling the silver cart down the hallway with the yet unnamed mare leading Herb as he pushed. Mouse followed at a distance, watching them as they came upon a door in the middle of the hallway.

Mouse stayed back as he watched the mare knock softly. “Lady Ruby, your dinner is here.”

“Yes, yes, come in,” came the muffled, tired reply.

Well that was obviously the bedroom, and not what Mouse was looking for. He glanced up and down the hall, trying to discern which door was the workshop as Herb and the mare led the tray in.

“Oh, thank you, Candy,” a young, but very tired voice said. “You’re too sweet.”

“And you work too hard, Mi’lady,” the mare replied as the door closed behind her.

Mouse checked the hallway again. This much time was starting to strain his spell, and if they were going to sit by her as she ate, then he might find the workshop on his own before they leave the room.

He checked back at the door, and began to move, dropping his spell for some much needed relief. Now that the spell wasn’t a constant drone in his head, he quickly began checking the doors.

The first one was a bedroom, with a king-sized bed covered in more blankets and pillows than Mouse thought was necessary. A quick look revealed a pointed lack of magical knives, and he moved on to the next room, closing the door behind him.

This one was a study, covered wall-to-wall in bookshelves, all filled with books. As he checked the titles, he was disappointed to see that only a few were on the nature of magic, the rest were religious texts, fictional pieces, and collections on legal documents.

He moved on to the next room.

It was a lounge, with a few overstuffed chairs, end tables, and statues filling the floor. The next room was another bedroom. Bedroom. Chess room. Bedroom. Bedroom again.

And then his ears perked as he heard the twisting of a doorknob.

Panic flooded his veins as his heart leapt to his throat, and he looked down the hallway to see Herb’s muzzle poking out of the door.

He’d be caught in a moment.

The mission was over.

He was caught.

They were going to call the guards and Mouse would have to fight for his life.

And by the time he thought that, he was already making his way through the closest door. Finally registering his own actions, he fought every instinct to slam the door shut, and prayed to every one of the gods he knew that Herb didn’t hear the soft ‘click’ of the latch.

With his heart pounding, he looked around the room, eyes darting frantically from corner to corner.

A small, and oddly calm part of his brain took not of the softly glowing rune circle that sat in the middle of the floor with a six-pointed star at its center, and deduced that this must be the workshop he was looking for.

The rest of him was trying to find a place to hide. He dove for a nearby desk, gathering his cloak around him, and hoped that Herb wouldn’t follow up on his curiosity.

He waited, silent, trying to still his pounding heart as tried to gather his strength to cast his spell once more.

A second passed.

Another.

It felt like an eternity as he tried to gather his magic.

It was almost there.

One more second and he’d be safe from prying eyes.

He gathered the magic in his horn—

‘Click.’

—and froze.

He didn’t need to see it to know that Herb had opened the workshop door, he could hear the earth pony breathing as he stepped into the room, whistling a low note as he took in the stacks of scrolls, tomes, apparati that dotted the room.

Mouse dared not make a sound.

He didn’t dare cast his spell as the sound of magic would give him away in an instant. The most he could do was reach out with his telekinesis, but he didn’t dare that with the silence that permeated the room.

So he sat, holding his breath, trying to release an exhale as softly as he could.

Herb’s hoofsteps were like thunder in his ears as he made his way to the center of the room. “Huh,” he said to himself, in a voice that may as well have been a dragon roar to Mouse. “I bet she uses this to summon all her orgy ghosts.”

“Just leave,” Mouse hissed in his thoughts, whispering in mind as though there were a chance that Herb could hear it.

Yet more thundering hoofsteps. “Wow, that’s a lot of books.”

“Yes, you’ve seen it, now go…”

“Let’s see, ‘The Five Schools of Magic,’” Herb read aloud as he looked over a stack of books. “‘The Four Classic Schools,’ and ‘The Sixth School of Friendship?’ What by Peme’s Trees does that mean?”

“Just go, you dolt,” Mouse mentally whispered, gritting his teeth all the way through.

Herb grunted. There was a rustling of paper, and a sudden, unholy racket as a powerful thud echoed in the room.

“Oh, sard!” Herb cursed, before his hoofsteps thundered toward the door. Mouse heard it open and slam shut before his released his breath and cast his spell.

Back under the veil of invisibility, Mouse looked up from around the desk to see one of the stack of books scattered across the room. Herb must have knocked it over, and left while the going was good.

Mouse, meanwhile, was stuck in the room until someone came in to check on the noise and—

He blinked.

There were the knives.

Laying on a podium, the pair of curved daggers almost shimmered in the light of the rune circle, and some strange aura about them told Mouse that they were hungry. Shaped like a pair of sickles, the silver blades were covered in veins of blue steel, while the two, carefully cut rubies set into the guard almost looked like perfect, crimson drops of blood.

Mouse only had to look at them before he knew they had to be his. He reached out with his telekinesis, grabbing the blades in his aura, and pulled.

The knives stayed still.

Mouse blinked, confused, before he suddenly realized what had happened. The ends of his magic, invisible strings that he felt more than saw, were frayed, cut to pieces by the enchantment. Only the magic that connected to the handles were intact.

He pulled again, hoping to take a closer look when he had more time, this time, focusing solely upon the carefully carved ivory handles. This time, the daggers obeyed, and flew to his side, with just enough time to fit them into his magical bag before the door to the room burst open once again.

A mare with a brilliant red mane and a soft, ivory coat ran in, dressed in a silk, white gown. “What’s going on?” she nearly yelled as she came in. “Who—? She began, before her eyes fell on the podium. “My daggers! Someone took my daggers! Thief! Thief!”

Mouse stayed quiet, all the way until Lady Ruby left, and then, trying to maintain his focus, he took his leave.

Mouse did not drop his invisibility spell until he was back in Baltimare proper. He did not risk being seen until the Ruby mansion was out of sight. He wandered the dark streets, walking back to The Highwayman's Alehouse in a wandering gait.

He didn’t want to rush back and risk outing the hideout, but at the same time, the less time he spent on the streets the better. The last thing he needed to do was get caught by a guard.

Overall, though, things went surprisingly well. Yes, he probably should have waited for Herb to leave the Lady's chamber and lead him to the workshop rather than try and find it himself, but it still worked out.

It was like his luck really was changing.

“Stop right there!” a voice yelled, and Mouse, despite his first instinct, froze. A mare in guard walked up to him, and Mouse soon found himself staring at the earth pony mare that he had thrown a rock at the other day. “Well, well,” she said, glaring at him with steely, blue eyes, “if it isn’t the troublemaker. I’ve been meaning to ask you what you’re doing here?”

“Tonight? Going home, I—” Mouse began.

“What are you doing in Baltimare?” she specified. “Don’t think I didn’t recognize you, you were that little panhandler back in Canterlot. I knew you were up to something then, and I know you’re up to something now.”

Mouse stared at her for what felt like a long time. She was bigger than him, probably stronger than him, and was a guard. She checked every single box from Mouse’s list of despicable ponies along with every other guard from the Canterlot prisons. She was a pony that he would normally run and hide from. She was normally someone that he would not dare look in the eyes.

But perhaps it was the freedom he had been growing accustomed to. Maybe it was the fact that Baltimare’s prisons were a joke. Or maybe, just maybe, he had finally had enough of being their punching bag.

Whatever the case he glared back into her eyes and spoke, “and what are you going to do about it officer?”

“That’s Officer Golden Shield to you, scum,” she sneered, “and luckily for you, I can’t do anything. I’m not one of those bird brains that so full of themselves that I spit feathers when I talk. I can’t bring you in on a feeling. I don’t get that privilege, but I want you to know, scum, that the second I have proof, I will bring you down.”

Mouse stared into Golden Shield’s eyes and smirked. “Then I guess I’ll be on my way.”