Sunset in the Otherworld

by Impossible Numbers

The Death Stones

A while later, Sunset phased through the golden wall to the dark world outside. Only the stars hinted at the possibility of hope.

“All fed?” She turned to see the Golden King stick his head through the slope of the hump; for a moment, he resembled a ridiculous tortoise. “All watered, I trust?”

“As much as I’ll ever be.” Sunset peered out across the silhouettes of lumps stretching into the distance. “So now what?”

“Here.”

A golden limb stuck out. She saw a stick of hazel wood balanced on the flat of the hoof.

“See the notch in the middle, Sunny-Me-Gal? A lot of things out there will challenge you to pay. Lucky you met me first, eh? But you look after this, and they’ll know you hold the golden rights. As for your friend –”

“What!? What about my friend!?”

The king wiped his brow. Under his breath, he hissed, “Go to the place of death. Find the stones of blood. Enter the well of despair.”

Skewing her lips doubtfully, Sunset nevertheless levitated the stick. “Uh, thanks.”

To her discomfort, he glanced about as though trying to spot spies lurking in the gloom. His leg beckoned her closer.

“Take any gold you can find out there,” he whispered, voice trembling with urgency. “Do not stop. Do not fear. And beware the living shadow!”

Beyond his shining body, shadow was all she could see. “What do you mean?”

And then something screeched in the air. It was a screech that hissed at the face and clawed at the ears and scrabbled, however fiercely, however desperately, to rip out the cowering instincts deep in the spine.

Even the echoes left tatters in the blackout.

The king swallowed. “Best of luck, my fair maiden. May the moon’s life help you on your noble quest.”

With a final frightened glance about him, he was gone. His afterimage faded in her sight.

Around her, the humps stretched for miles around. Sunset waited for a hint. Crickets thrummed their stick legs. Rattlers hissed as they slithered. Unseen wings cracked like whips.

The place of death? Not daring to send up a flare, Sunset raised her head and demanded her legs march on.

Hours passed. Gradually, the tedium of marching softened her mind. Vague faces, blurry lines, and forgotten whispers began pouring through…

---

“Ah still don’t see it,” said Applejack testily. “It ain’t no calendar.”

“Look, it’s really simple.” Sunset scurried to keep up; she hated going uphill, and besides, Applejack could be quite the speed-walker. “There are thirteen cycles of the moon in a year. Each cycle is split into two seasons: the waxing season, and the waning season. The two seasons are split into fourteen nights each, and each of those nights consists of a night-time and a blackout-time of twelve hours apiece! Which means…?”

Applejack looked panicky. “Uh… it means… uh…”

Oh, for goodness’ sake! She can run across the hills without so much as a pant, but chuck numbers at her and she’s gasping.

“Well, look at the stones!”

Both of them stopped. Sunset gestured to the peak of the hill, overlooking the city of green humps.

“Those stones must weigh sixty tons apiece, but look at how precisely they’re arranged! Two stones, balancing a third to make a full night. Fourteen trilithons make up a season, and if you use the stones twice, once for each season, you get –”

“A lot of big stones.” Applejack thumped her temple. “And a headache.”

For the first time in a long time, homesickness settled like snow on Sunset’s shoulders. Her knees trembled with the energy leaking out of them.

Professor Chess would have gotten it at once. What am I doing wrong? It’s not AJ’s fault; she was… just… brought up differently. Classes don’t bleat or wander off or get Lime’s Disease.

Towering blocks shadowed her. If she squinted and tilted her head, she could imagine they were the old university towers too. Shining like ivory under the midnight moon.

To her shame, Applejack’s forelimb pressed onto her withers. “You din’t regret everythin’. Did you, Sunset?”

Darn you, AJ. Sometimes, I really do wonder if you can read minds. “Of course I did! They shoved so much promise down my throat, making me jump through hoops and telling me I wasn’t acting ‘courtly’ enough! It wasn’t a university! It was a prison with bait! I’m glad I left! I’m… glad.”

“Ah was glad to leave home too.” When Sunset looked round, Applejack had no smile on her face during her inspection of the great standing stones above. “Ah told Granny Smith, Ah said, ‘This ain’t life! This is jus’ chasin’ after sheep, every night and every blackout. There’s gotta be more than this.’ An’ Ah was right. There was more, out there in the big cities of the world.”

Sunset gaped. Normally, Applejack said as little as possible about her time out in the big wide world. At least, whenever they were in company. Even when they found a room to be alone in or a field to sneak off to, Sunset never brought it up in case Applejack stiffened and clammed up.

“I…” Sunset stared up at the half moon. “I… suppose some of my classmates weren’t… too bad.”

“Ah made a lot of friends out there. Cities ain’t so bad, for them as likes ‘em. Different strokes for different folks, Ah guess.”

“But I’m never going back. Not for all the night corn on the planet.”

“Still, Ah made my choice to come back. 'Cause when they’re family, an’ gave me life… Ah mean, who loved me an’ raised me, an’ then… were passin' on… both of 'em, Ah mean…”

This time, Sunset saw the careful blankness in Applejack’s face.

Eventually, Applejack said, in an equally careful voice, “Family is family. That’s all there is to it.”

“You’re lucky,” said Sunset to the great standing stones. “At least you still have family.”

Applejack’s grip on her withers tightened. Despite herself, Sunset raised a leg to wipe her own muzzle.

“You have family,” said Applejack in her ear. “You know you’re always welcome to visit whenever you want.”

Until moondown darkened the world, they never looked away from the circle of the Death Stones –

---

Another screech lunged at the air, howling like a dying prehistoric beast, and then faded into the blackout. Memories shattered and scurried about her in frightened shoals before turning into wisps that died.

Sunset stopped marching. Going uphill always made her legs ache.

Hunched against the rising band of the Milky Way, the Death Stones made a black head; the gaps between the stones became eye sockets of midnight blue, irises twinkling.

Something else twinkled where the black head’s teeth would be. Sunset scurried forwards. Ears cocked for the slightest sounds, she lit up her horn. Merely an ember at the tip. So long as she was quick, it wouldn’t attract attention.

Two gold discs glinted on the silver grass.

Her hazel wood still floated beside her, and now it was joined by these two strange, coin-shaped things. They couldn’t be coins, though. Each one was big enough to cover an eye.

Dream world currency? She twirled one over. Embossed on this side, the long face, rounded eyes, crown like the miniature spires of a city, and flanking pair of angelic wings suggested a smile and serenity. Engraved on the other side…

True, the figure was technically pony-shaped. But no eyes looked out, no mouth smiled up, no features but the bare minimum of outline. Golden dust scintillated under the magic glow.

An inscription ran along the rim on both sides, but its letters were also the same on both sides. Old Avalonian. I know this.

“‘Balance mvst alwaye be kept!’
The shadow lavghed; the moonlight wept.”

And on the grass under the discs, a single note. She recognized the mouthwriting, though it was sprawling with some urgent haste.

“Leap of faith. Pay discs. From: AJ.”

AJ!? You’re here!?

Sunset spun round.

At the bottom of the hill, a lone patch of sky aimed its muzzle at her. It was pony shaped. It had no features.

The creature froze, a tiger suddenly spotted by an antelope.

You again… she thought.

Sunset tried to teleport when the screech burst outwards and slapped right into her face. For a moment she stood there, blinking.

She tried again. Nothing happened.

…oh no.

Sunset bolted as soon as the screech slashed at her ears. She had no idea where she was going; vague suggestions of weight pressed in on all sides, and then she looked back to see –

Darkness. No creature was there.

Then its screech echoed around the stones. She spun round. Death Stones surrounded her like solemn priests. She could almost hear the primeval chanting of some long-forgotten druids, demanding the moon rise, demanding the moon glow, demanding the crops grow with lunar energy –

She yelped; she’d been so busy backing away that she hadn’t noticed the hole behind her.

Her hoof stepped back from the brink as a loose stone tumbled down, instantly visible against the red glow that ended with a bloodlike brilliance at the bottom of the hole. Chanting voices echoed from the deep, passing straight through the air and appearing inside her head.

Moon, rise! Moon, glow! Crops, grow with energy! Moon, rise! Moon, glow! Crops, grow with energy!

Yet the sky remained starlit. Nothing more.

She went to gallop back out the circle of stones and almost ran into the creature.

“NO!” she yelled, scrabbling and backing away.

It stared at her without eyes. It gasped without lungs, for a bloodlust felt without emotion. Its nonexistent mind worked out strategies and tactics. She could almost feel the contradictions like friction burning before her, fighting against the insistent demands of reality. And all the while, this living piece of the night stalked closer.

Sunset didn’t want to know what it had in mind. The friction alone was like a chainsaw closing in.

She turned. The red hole glowed, chanted, cried out for the moon. And suddenly, among the chants, she thought she heard Applejack’s voice.

The screech lunged at her.

She took a leap of faith.

---