The Danger Within

by Loganberry

3. Colours and Collars

“All right, everypony, what’s all the staring in aid of?” Flight Sergeant Rainbow Dash set her head on one side and ran a grey-green hoof through her close-cropped black mane. Fancy noticed the soft shimmer of an enchanted collar around her neck and wondered what its purpose might be.

“I, er, that is to say—” he started, but Fluttershy gently cut across him.

“Oh, we don’t mean to be rude,” she said. “It’s just that we have a friend named Rainbow Dash. We were simply a little surprised to meet another pony with that name.”

Rainbow rolled her eyes; they were, distractingly, exactly the same shade of cerise as the Ponyville Rainbow Dash’s. “Why? Ponies are allowed to share names, you know.”

Fancy recovered himself. “But, well, your mane… it isn’t exactly, ah...” He trailed off and gave a small, apologetic shake of a forehoof.

The guide sighed. “Rainbow? My goodness me, how observant. I can see I’ll have to get up early in the morning to match you.” The heavy sarcasm in her voice softened only slightly as she gestured towards the open door. “Which is handy. Mind you, this is something we will all need to get used to.” She turned to Sandcastle. “Permission to brief the strangers, sir?”

Sandcastle nodded briskly. “Carry on, Flight Sergeant.”

Rainbow turned to address the others. “Now then,” she said. “Listen to what I have to say. I don’t want to waste time repeating myself.” Her manner was direct, almost curt and there was scarcely a trace of a regional accent. She sounded nothing like the Rainbow Dash Fancy knew.

“We’re listening,” said Fluttershy.

“Good. Now shut up. This is important. The road to Canterlot can be a dangerous one, and we need to take that seriously. That means everypony. I do not intend to end up dead because my charges didn’t pay attention.

“If you’re expecting the level of comfort you enjoyed last night,” she went on, nodding towards the guard hut’s side room, “then you can forget about that right now. We will be sleeping in the open, and we will most definitely not be having any cosy lie-ins. We will be leaving immediately. Any questions? Yes?” she added as Rarity raised a hoof.

“Do we have to call you Rainbow Dash?” she asked. “It does feel a little odd. Perhaps we could call you Sarge or something?”

“You can call me Flight Sergeant,” barked the guide. “Flight will do if you really must, but I worked damn hard to get promoted from sergeant, and I do not expect to be addressed as one again. Is that clear?” She turned to Shining Mane. “I should like to pass out the collars to the strangers, sir.”

“Very good, Flight Sergeant. Take them yourself.”

“Sir.” Flight rummaged in a large chest by the back wall and produced three collars. They were of a tarnished silver metal and much too thin to be used in hauling. Each was studded with tiny blue gems. Fancy Pants smelt the faint tinny aura of magic around the collars, and glancing to the side he saw that Rarity’s ears had also pricked up.

Flight turned to the three. “Get these on.”

Fluttershy took her collar with a quizzical expressions but began to slide it over her ears. Fancy accepted his in silence and, after a moment, he followed suit. There was no obvious way out other than by going with Flight, and it was clear that they were going nowhere until the collars were on. They would just have to take the chance—

Rarity exploded. “If you think I’m putting that grubby trinket around my neck, you have another think coming! It’s utterly revolting!” She subsided a little. “Do be a dear, Flight Sergeant,” she wheedled. “Surely you could find me something a teensy bit cleaner?”

“Would you prefer it if I shoved it onto you myself?” Flight’s voice rose a little. “Because that’s what will happen if you don’t get it around your lily-white neck right this minute.”

“So then,” said Rarity acidly as she complied, “it seems we are prisoners after all. Or are you going to tell us some other reason for the fact that we are being forced to don multigem collars?” When Flight looked surprised, Rarity added, “Am I to take it, then, that you have somehow not noticed my cutie mark?”

Flight walked over to her and fixed her with a glare. “Tell me,” she said, “if you were me and I were you, what would you do? Yes they are multigem collars, yes I do know which enchantments they hold, no I’m not telling you – and no, they are not coming off until we get to Canterlot. Those are my orders, and I did not make Flight Sergeant by making things up as I went along. You don’t seem like a total idiot to me, so why are you trying to persuade me otherwise?”

“I say,” said Fancy Pants. “That’s a bit off, don’t you think?”

Flight’s head whipped around. Her glare had increased in intensity and Fancy could almost feel it burning the back of his head. He said nothing further but removed his monocle to wipe it, simply for the sake of filling the yawning silence that had opened up.

“In case you lot hadn’t noticed,” said Flight eventually, “there is one of me. I may have excellent stamina, but staying awake for 72 hours is a little beyond even me. I don’t know whether you’d be thick enough to go traipsing off into country you know nothing about in the middle of the night, but I am not prepared to take that risk, and neither is the Protector.”

“The Protector?” asked Rarity.

“Oh my stars, clearly you are that thick. How lovely for us all. You’ll see the Protector soon enough when we get to Canterlot, and you would do well to learn some common sense before we get there.”

“I’m sorry,” said Fluttershy, “but Rarity asked you a reasonable question. I really don’t think you’re behaving very well.”

“Boo hoo,” cut in Sandcastle. “This isn’t kindergarten. I did ask you yesterday whether you wanted a complaint form. It’s a bit late for that now. Besides,” he added with a twisted smile, “there is an alternative to the collars, actually. It’s called being tethered to trees like animals each night. If you’d prefer that, just say the word. I’m sure it could be arranged.”

Flight gave an appreciative chuckle and retreated a few paces, allowing her to address the three apparently-now-prisoners. When she spoke again, her tone was blunt.

“Do you know how to kill?”

Fancy floundered and flannelled, but a quiet voice to his left said, “Yes.” He looked around, startled, to see tears welling in Fluttershy’s eyes as she stared fixedly at her hooves. He opened his mouth to speak, stopping short when he caught the tiniest of head-shakes from Rarity beyond her.

“Good,” said Flight. “Rarity?”

“I can fight,” she said.

“That’s not what I asked.”

Rarity took a breath and answered, “I have never yet taken a pony’s life and I would never wish to do so.But—” her mind’s eye looked back through the years and images of manticores and dragons danced in her head “—if I had to do so to save my friends… yes, I believe I could.”

Flight pursed her lips. “You won’t have time to think about it when a Greenmane has a foreleg across your throat. You will kill her right there and then – or you will die. ‘I believe’ is no bloody good – do you think your assailant will stop and wait for you to make your mind up? No. She will kill you. She’s done it before and she will do it again. Why do you think she’s still alive?”

Before Rarity could answer, Flight turned to Fancy. Her expression screamed “Can you do anything useful?”, but all she said aloud was, “You may have to find out.”

* * *

There was, at least, no need to carry provisions. Browsing was hardly the most enjoyable way to fill one’s stomach, but the low wooded hills through which the ponies were travelling were lushly carpeted with soft, springy grass. The occasional clump of small flowers or bush bearing edible berries leavened the monotony a little, but for the most part it was a diet of grass, grass and more grass. Flight seemed intimately familiar with the area they were passing through and guided them to bubbling springs and rushing streams where they could quench their thirst.

They went at an even pace but by no means a slow one, and by late afternoon Fancy’s muscles were beginning to ache, despite the welcome lightness of his saddlebags. He thought back to high school treks with the cadets in Trottingham and smiled ruefully, wishing he’d taken those weekends a little more seriously. Looking about him, he saw that Fluttershy had taken to the air and was gliding a couple of feet off the ground, perhaps to give her legs a rest. Rarity, who had said little all morning, was trotting alongside her and exchanging what seemed to be pleasantries; Fancy couldn’t quite make out the words. Perhaps they were simply discussing the best ways to make tea.

Flight was currently high in the sky, scouting ahead for any trouble. She barely looked down at the others – the multigem collars around their necks precluded any worry that they would dash off into some untamed wood. Flight’s explanation had been terse, but Fancy had gathered that the intricate lattice of the various gems’ magical enchantments would hold the prisoners – he allowed himself the use of the word now – within range of their so-called guide.

The collars’ magic was great; Rarity had admitted that even her deep knowledge of the properties of gems would not help them here. While Flight had been on a previous reconnaissance, Rarity had whispered that she knew of an unlocking spell from a book in the depths of Twilight’s library archives, but that it was a difficult one that was awkward and even dangerous to cast. A mage with the ability of Twilight – or perhaps Starlight – might have been able to untangle the latticework with enough time and concentration, but she had not that power.

“And where would we go to?” Fluttershy had asked. There was no answer to that: they knew nothing of this strange Equestria beyond the little they had seen since the previous afternoon.

And then there’s me, thought Fancy with a sort of amused resignation. The other one. He was under increasingly little illusion about the fact that he was comprehensively outdone by all three mares in the adventuring department. It was easy to forget that in her time meek and gentle Fluttershy had faced down a dragon and a cockatrice and reduced a Storm Guard to tears, unarmed and alone. Fancy wondered why Flight, who had never known her, had seemed so unsurprised about her straightforward reply back at the guard post.

Flight’s yell of “Trouble!” interrupted Fancy’s thoughts. She was heading back towards the others at full pelt and, some moments later, landed inelegantly a few yards away.

“I say, what’s going on?” asked Fancy.

Flight seemed in no mood to explain. “Trouble,” she repeated. “Come on! Into the trees!” She hustled them all off the road and into a clumpy, dense copse fifty feet away with such efficiency and speed that they were out of sight in seconds.

“Well, Flight Sergeant,” hissed Rarity, “now are you going to tell us the reason for this uncouth behaviour?”

“If you want,” muttered Flight. “There’s a whole bloody herd of Greenmanes coming this way.”

“Is that bad?” asked Fluttershy.

“Oh, not really,” said Flight. “Not if you like being robbed at knifepoint and left as a snack for any passing wolves. If you’re a fan of that kind of thing, then no, it’s not bad at all. You’ll love the Greenmanes, I’m sure. Maybe you can go ask them round for a cup of tea.”

“Robbed!” exclaimed Fancy. “But we barely have a bit between us! Everything at the party was laid on.”

“I see,” said Flight. “And what do you think will happen when they find that out? You think they’re going to leave us a scolding note saying ‘Don’t do it again, you naughty ponies’ or spare us a bit for a mug of cider? No. They’re going to get angry. Especially when they see that.” Flight nodded at the EM on Fancy's saddlebags. “And when a Greenmane gets angry you do not want to get in her way unless you are damn sure you can kill her right there and then.Otherwise? It will very likely be the last thing you ever do.”

Rarity spoke up. “Perhaps you could tell us something about these Greenmanes? We thought we saw a pony with a green mane yesterday, before we met the guards. Everypony has been terribly mysterious about them.”

“Shut your stupid trap.”

This was spoken quietly and slowly, yet with an intensity that shocked Fancy Pants and forced Rarity into silence. Fancy considered protesting but pulled back as he heard the hoofsteps in the distance. The wind was against him, but listening hard he was fairly sure there were wheels on the road as well, a thought that was only confirmed as they drew nearer. Before long, he could make out the ponies approaching. He was not prepared for the sight.

There were in fact only four in the group, all with manes of a rich, dark green. To Fancy’s style-conscious eyes, the colouring did not look natural: it was simply too regular. Two unicorn mares flanked a pair of Earth pony stallions, who were hauling a light cart which held nothing but a large rectangular item swathed in layers of soft black cloth. As they passed the hiding place, its corner slipped slightly.

It was a mirror.

Rarity let out a gasp that she stifled almost at once. Fancy’s heart hammered like a carpenter on double time, but the Greenmanes didn’t appear to have noticed the sound and continued their movement. He willed himself to stay utterly still, despite the burning ache that was beginning to fill his muscles, and thought about what he had seen. If he was right about the reason for Rarity’s reaction…

Once the sound had died away, Fancy, Rarity and Fluttershy turned as one to look expectantly at Flight. After a short eternity, she nodded.

“Well,” she said when they were all on the road once more, “this is not good. This is not good at all. Looks like we won’t be going to Canterlot just yet. Let’s just hope we get there at all. First, we’re going back west. Fast. Right now. And you, Fluttershy, will be flying with me. You other two, follow us at full gallop. Nothing less will do. You'll have to carry our saddlebags as well as yours; there's nothing else for it.”

“But what about the collars?” asked Fluttershy.

Flight gave a humourless smile and patted her own collar with a tenderness that was almost affectionate. Fancy got the distinct impression that she’d worn it many times before.

“You keep those on. Believe me, the Wing Commander allowed for things like this when she hoofed these out. They won’t be a problem so long as the unicorns are following me directly. But know this: if they set just one hoof off the road, I will know about it and they will regret it.” He looked slowly from Rarity to Fancy Pants, meeting each pony’s gaze, before turning back to Fluttershy.

“Now: what did I ask you back at the guard post?

Fluttershy shuddered and screwed up her eyes. “Whether we knew how to kill.”

“That’s right,” said Flight, her eyes hard as flint. “And you, Fluttershy, were the only one who told me straight away that you did.”

Fluttershy’s eyes were still closed and her face tense, but eventually she forced out a tiny, “Yes.”

Flight looked at her for long moments then turned away, her expression grim.

“I hope you meant it.”

Comments

[Matthewl419]

Whaaaaaaatttt.... logan, why you do this cliffhanger stuff...

[Loganberry]

8712796
What's up with the mirrors? Well, who knows? Certainly not me. Oh no indeedy.

8713315
Because I'm eeeeeevil, of course.

[FanOfMostEverything]

Hooboy. Flight is at once the group's best hope for survival and the worst pony they could be saddled with. No nonsense, no patience, and no craps given about the whole "not of this world" thing. Not that they've ever had a chance to get that across. For now, there are a lot more questions than answers. I just hope what the group doesn't know won't hurt them too badly.

Also:

Fancy Pants smelt the faint tinny aura of magic around the collars, and glancing to the side he saw that Rarity’s ears had also pricked up.

Brilliant way to present how unicorns sense magic in this setting.

8712796
Hmm. I wonder. It's not like we've ever seen mirrors in any relation to alternate universes in this series.

[Loganberry]

8719218
Flight is fun to write. Her character is loosely based on that of Holly from Watership Down, which seems to fit pretty well here. The tinny tang of magic is a little nod to Discworld -- I'm glad it worked here. As for mirrors... well, maybe. But bear in mind I wrote a story (To Be the Candle) in which mirrors played a central role but in a rather different way to their EqG use.