The Immortal Dream

by Czar_Yoshi

Bad Riddles

I stared, dumbstruck, at the mare before me.

The Black Knight, normally clad head to hoof in their namesake armor, was now missing their helmet, which dangled from my shocked wing. And the face that had been hidden beneath it belonged unmistakably to Kitty.

An older Kitty. But still.

"Guess that didn't go as planned," not-Kitty chirped, an embarrassed blush on her sky-blue cheeks. She gave me a sheepish smile. "So... does that make you for real, then?"

"About protecting Coda?" I took a step closer to the ice block. "One hundred percent. But you're just gonna back down after one hit because I stole your hat?"

I hefted her helmet for emphasis.

She shrugged.

"If this is a joke, it's not funny," I said warily, watching her demeanor for any sign of... anything, really. But all I got was sheepish innocence. "Who are you and why do you look like that?"

Not-Kitty frowned, confusion breaking into her expression. "You don't recognize me?"

"I do, and that's a problem." At the very least, I was confident enough I had the upper hoof to start asking questions. "You look - and act - uncomfortably similar to someone I know, but unless you're pulling a very fast one on me, you're not actually them."

Not-Kitty studied me.

I tossed the helmet and caught it. "You want this back? Answer my questions. You were talking like you know about what happened to Coda. Windigoes? You've got a history with them. Isn't that right?"

Not-Kitty sat down in defeat. "Well, buckets. Got any more proof you aren't one of Rhodallis' pirates? Anything at all? Seems like we might've gotten off on the wrong hoof, but with those guys, you can never be too careful. After all, they've got nothing if not belief that they're in the right, just like you."

"No more than I have that you're not some roving bandit," I replied, wracking my brain for an out on the off chance that this really was a good guy - or, at least, someone who would tell me more useful information while cooperating than at swordpoint. "I'm new to this continent. Ask me something a foreigner would think they know, but be completely wrong about - someone who hasn't flown these skies for years like Rhodallis has."

"Oh, easy!" Not-Kitty perked up. "What province did Garsheeva build her private sanctum in?"

I blinked. Grandbell was the capital province, the home to Garsheeva's city and her temple. Icereach's censorship hadn't quite gone far enough to obscure something as basic as that. So, presumably, that was the easy, fake answer, and Garsheeva had a hidden lair somewhere else... but Grandbell would also be an easy first pick if you were trying to make up an answer that was incorrect, yet sounded plausible. Taking a stab in the dark would be more earnestly wrong.

"The Stormhoof Province?" I guessed, my tone making it clear that I wasn't confident in this answer.

"Nope!" Not-Kitty beamed. "It's Grandbell. Used to be right there for everyone to see, just not enter. Everyone knows about it. I just figured you were expecting a trick question, so I asked one that wasn't a trick. Next question: how many paws does a sphinx have?"

Well played, but now my paranoia was flaring up again. How many paws did a sphinx have? This couldn't be a trick question, could it?

Could it?

"...Four?" I dared to guess, a skeptical, tentative, jaded look already growing on my face.

"Yep!" not-Kitty praised, beaming. "You had to think about it, though. Is this a trick, or isn't it? So maybe you really aren't from around here, because that one should be easy. Okay, anyway, question three: two llamas, a sarosian, and a sock puppet being played by a griffon walk into an antique pawn shop on the Goldoa coastline, where they find a set containing a purple carved wooden pentagon and a yellow carved wooden septagon. That means five sides and seven sides. A cruise ship - you're following this, right? A cruise ship is docked at the town, and is scheduled to depart in seven hours. Of the two llamas, one has a ticket for the ship, and the other always lies. The llamas disagree on whether the sarosian can count to seven, but everyone knows they can at least count to five. Also, the griffon's sock either has purple stripes or yellow stripes, but the sarosian is colorblind so purple and yellow look the same to them. Now, the big question is... is this a trick question?"

My brain hurt.

"I mean..." I held a booted hoof to my forehead, keeping half an eye out to ensure this wasn't a distraction so some hidden accomplice could sneak up to steal Coda. "Whether I say yes or no, I'll be correct, right? Because if it's not, then that's such a straightforward no that it just isn't. But it sure sounds enough like one that I could be justified in saying yes."

Not-Kitty beamed. "Correct! Now, final question: from question three, if the griffon buys the artifact with the same coloration as his sock and then hides it in the sock, under what circumstances could the two llamas agree about how many sides the sarosian thinks the remaining artifact has?"

I groaned in despair. "Errrrrrr..."

If they're both lying, Faye said in my mind, her tone suggesting she was enjoying this. She said one always lies, but she didn't say the other always tells the truth.

I said that aloud, and not-Kitty looked thrilled.

"Well," she declared, "I guess that settles it. Rhodallis' crew don't have the patience or the sense of humor to put up with that. Me using it as a distraction once or twice before might have had something to do with it, as well. Solemnly swear on your friend here that you're not a friend of Rhodallis, or of windigoes, and we can try getting off to a fresh start?"

"I'm an enemy of Rhodallis, and I'm trying to escape from him," I swore, drawing a hoof across my heart. "As for windigoes, our history is... complicated. But I don't trust them and I'm trying to stop them, and to save my friend from them. And I'm not about to lose my temper over some silly riddles, but I have a lot more to lose if I stay here long enough to get boxed in by another dust storm and run out of provisions. Now it's your turn. What are you doing, and why should I trust you?"

"I'm the Black Knight," not-Kitty told me, hefting her war pick with a serious look. "And believe it or not, I'm still trying to pin down what my goals should be. So I wander, and I do what I can when I see something that needs doing. But I know a thing or two about windigoes. If you don't already have an ironclad plan to help your friend, I could probably help you."

"Don't have any goals, eh?" Figuring it was time for a gesture of good faith, I tossed back her helmet. "What's your real name? Aside from the Black Knight."

She caught it, checked it over for damage, and then met my eyes. "Name's Puddles. Not too menacing, eh? Sure you've never heard about me? And how about you?"

I wracked my memory, but... "Not ringing any bells. Anyway, I'm Halcyon."

Puddles nodded, attaching the helmet to a strap on her armor without putting it all the way on. "Well met, Halcyon. Anyway, it's more like I have too many goals to lift up any as the most important. Now, you're really stuck here, no hidden airship or anything?"

I nodded. "Are you offering a ride...?"

Puddles gave me that sheepish smile again. "Didn't wanna risk my own ship so close to the city. It's an old wooden one, and revenant fire could burn it to cinders. Only left it a day from here, though!"

"Any chance it's due south?" I glanced in the direction I had been going.

"West," Puddles apologized. "I flew in from Wilderwind."

I hesitated, looking through my provisions. "I've only got enough provisions to make it to Gorton's Holdout if I don't take any detours. If I follow you and you ditch me, I'd be at the mercy of the elements. We've been over ten times why I'm not a pirate, but why should I trust you?"

"I swear it on Wallace Whitewing," Puddles solemnly promised. "Do you know who that is?"

My mind sparked. Whitewings were what Kitty called her remote-control bodies, and the more I thought about it, the more plausible it seemed that she had named them herself. Another connection between this mare and her lookalike in Ironridge? That couldn't be a coincidence.

And yet, I sifted further in my memories, and felt like I remembered something from before that, perhaps from Rondo during my ill-fated job with Leif and her associates. Wallace Whitewing...

"He was the champion of the Griffon Empire, the greatest hero it had ever known," Puddles explained, seeing my confusion. "He fought for the redemption of criminals, the equality of races, and to save the continent during the Twilight of the Gods. And he was also my father."

I stared at her, relevant new information flooding into my head. Redemption of criminals, equality of races, didn't that sound a lot like Kitty's stated goals of evolving beyond the constraints of being a windigo?

Blinking, I shook my head to clear it. That wasn't the important thing to focus on, right now. But this Puddles clearly had pieces to the puzzle that I was missing, and from the sound of it, they were big ones. Maybe even the key ones that would finally turn the picture into something I could identify.

Trustworthy or not, I had to go with her so I could find out more.

"Alright." I nodded. "It's a deal. I'll trust you, we'll travel together for the time being, and you tell me anything you know that could help Coda. Please don't make me beat you up again. I've had... a long history with getting betrayed."

To my surprise, Puddles looked away. "...Same," she eventually admitted, before perking back up. "Anyway, let's get a leg on! If your stamina's good enough to even think about making this trek with a load, and the weather doesn't stop us, we should be able to find the ship by nightfall."

---

The first half of the day was much harder going than yesterday, owing largely to the fact that the direction Puddles wanted to go in didn't have a major, unobstructed road to follow. Our path meandered from side to side to dodge ruins, weaving through courtyards full of desecrated, derelict machinery, dust and sand piled against the walls in heaps I now suspected were revenant-made. They couldn't completely get rid of it when cleaning; all that sand had to go somewhere. So it was just here, out of the way.

Most courtyards were separated by walls, concrete bases topped with steel fences and then barbed wire. I remembered the correspondence tucked away in my bag; Faye had passed on to me a general idea of what was in there, even if her thoughts surrounding the letters remained her own. How many owners and managers of these factories actually thought they needed those fences, either to keep outsiders out or their workers in?

More than some of those wires, I guessed, were just there to meet a quota for steel consumption, or maybe to fit some urban planner's bad taste in aesthetics.

Probably. But I still shivered, well aware that most didn't necessarily mean all.

The walls generally had enough holes for us to get through, and when they didn't, Puddles made more. A single swing of her war pick was enough to demolish the concrete base; a second, to wrench the fence out of the way. Where had that strength been when we fought? When I pushed back her blow, together with Faye and our bracelet, were we really just stronger than concrete?

Maybe we were. I had no reference for my own strength that was applicable to the world at large, spending my time doing things like training with yaks and walking cross-country and donning heavy armor while pulling a load. Of course that couldn't be average, but how much stronger than average actually was I?

Watching how effortlessly Puddles cleared a path, remembering how Rhodallis hadn't wanted to pick a fight with her in the Night's Boon's sanctum even with numbers on his side - and remembering that Faye had apparently bested Rhodallis as well - I suddenly found a new appreciation for that strength, along with a desire to formally measure it.

Despite our advantages, we spent little time talking, saving our breath for the road. And even though I felt like I was making good time, my bracelet burning lightly, the burden of pulling Coda not yet having caught up to my muscles for the day, I almost felt like Puddles was slowing down on my behalf.

She didn't offer to pull Coda herself, which I appreciated. And she had to take point anyway to lead the way. But I pushed myself a little harder, and sure enough, she sped up to match my increase.

Eventually, our path was broken by a long, long warehouse that seemed designed to look like a wall. Plain, gray and boxy, it had innumerable freight entrances and a wide, empty courtyard, suggesting it was used as some sort of shipping or cargo hub.

Puddles glanced up at it, evaluating the building. To my eyes, it looked pretty sturdy, in better condition than most of the places we had passed so far...

"Buckets. I forgot to adjust our route for this place, since we have cargo," she eventually said, nodding back at Coda. "Well, we've got three options: over, around or through."

"Over?" I tilted my head. "Are you secretly a pegasus?"

Puddles shrugged, then flexed, and a compartment on her shoulder popped open, exposing a miniature hooked cannon. She aimed it up, and with a small, smokeless blast, the hook flew out, trailing thin, sturdy rope.

It lodged on the building's ceiling. She gave it a solid tug for emphasis, and it held.

"Well, that's handy," I remarked. "Though, with Coda..."

"They're rated for my weight alone," Puddles apologized. "Had to cut some corners to get everything I wanted to fit in here. If you ever want a set for yourself, by the way, grapple parkour is a fast and fun way to travel."

Grapple parkour. I blinked at the line, my mind assembling a probably-fantastical image of what that could look like.

She gave the line a different tug, and it came free, rapidly retracting into its holder, which snapped closed.

"Well, unless there's anything particularly bad in here, we go through," I said, turning to one of the open freight entrances. Puddles had nothing to say to stop me, and the noontime sun quickly vanished behind the ceiling as we ventured inside.

---

I didn't realize quite how hot the desert was until we sat down and stopped moving, after a quick look through the warehouse determined this was a good enough spot to take lunch. My bracelet went out, parts of my armor came off, and I sat down to rest, letting the day's exhaustion fully hit my now-unaided body.

"Whew," I panted, brushing a drop of sweat from my mane. "This isn't forgiving terrain. Maybe it's a good thing we decided to stop here."

"I'm impressed," Puddles said, mountainous storage racks surrounding us. The lower shelves had been largely cleared out, probably by vandals or treasure hunters, but the higher ones were half full of crates, boxes and sacks of materials and who knew what. "Takes guts of iron to survive out here, let alone with what you're wearing. One of the few times I guess you'd be glad to have that kind of ice around, huh..."

She pulled out her provisions, and I withdrew my own, neither of us yet to the point of sharing.

"So you know about windigoes," I said between bites. "What exactly do you know? If you've got stuff that can help Coda..."

Puddles raised an eyebrow. "You share your history, I share mine?"

"You first," I prodded, though I didn't say no.

Puddles shrugged. "I spent six years possessed by one, as a kid."

I nearly spat out my water. "Six years?"

"Really not ringing any bells, huh?" Puddles sat back, talking with her mouth full. "You really must not be from around here. When your parents are famous, and you're their reason for fighting... Well, they kept it a secret until I was back to normal, and didn't exactly shout about it in the months after that, but history has a way of finding out. Not many in the Griffon Empire who don't know at least something about my reputation. Anyway, that's my story. I just don't want anyone else to go through what I did. Especially not another kid. So I caught wind of this Coda, and what else could I do but look into it?"

"A good egg, huh?" I flicked my tail, chewing.

"Well, there's more." Puddles kept eating, staring off into the distance of the warehouse rafters. "You see, six years don't pass in the blink of an eye. My parents tried all sorts of things to heal me. And during that time, my body and the windigo inhabiting it fell under the control of someone very dishonest, who convinced them he was searching for a cure while secretly using its power for his own ends. It ended badly for him, and for everyone else involved... Even for the windigo, believe it or not. So I couldn't stand by while Rhodallis tried to do the same to her."

There was more to that story. I knew there was more... but Puddles had said her piece. "Your turn," she said, punting the conversation over to me.

Well, if that was how it was going to be... she would get only part of my story, too. At least until we could decide how much to trust each other.

"I met her in Ironridge," I started to explain, choosing my words carefully. "I dunno how much news you've heard out of Ironridge, lately, but the city has been ran for years by a corporation secretly controlled by windigoes. It used them for air conditioning, I think willingly, and the city was too hot to survive without it. So they got a lot of political power, and wanted to use it to go to war with Yakyakistan. So Coda... sacrificed herself somehow to seal them away in her body. I don't know exactly how it works, and it's probably not even the same as what happened to you. But there's a lot more than one windigo in there. Dunno how many. But I think she just took on too many at once."

Puddles rubbed her broad chin with a hoof, scooting over and inspecting Coda more closely. "Buckets. I was afraid this wasn't the same exact situation. Though, I don't know how much better it would have been if it was... You mind a few more specific questions?"

"Go for it." If she was asking permission, that was a good sign.

"That brand," Puddles said, pointing at the black crown on Coda's flank. "How long has she had that? Is it her normal one, or did it only appear after she got possessed?"

I furrowed my brow, remembering Kitty's snowflake talent... and how Corsica's had changed to a snowflake when she got possessed. That had to be what Puddles was talking about. So I shook my head. "Always been like that. I'm guessing some types of possession change it somehow?"

Puddles nodded. "The bond between bodies and brands is special. When I was possessed, mine changed to a snowflake, and from what I understand, that wasn't something that the windigo could control. So for better or for worse, what's happening to her isn't the same as what happened to me." She returned her hoof to her chin. "It's possible she's still conscious and in control. Or it's possible no one's home, and she's in stasis in some way I haven't seen before."

"When this first happened," I offered, "the whole block of ice wasn't there. She was encrusted in it and still frozen solid, but it wasn't nearly this big."

"I don't know what to make of that," Puddles mused. "According to the stories - I have no memory of that time - my windigo once did something like this to themselves as a defensive measure. Which, depending how Rhodallis got his hooves on her, could... Buckets." She shook her head. "You know how he came by her?"

I shook my head. "Wish I did. Haven't a clue. But I left her with friends to go chase a cure, and eventually, I found her again being carted around by him. So it can't be anything good."

"Meh," Puddles pouted. "Figures."

"So what were you gonna do with her?" I asked. "If you did succeed in swiping her from me?"

"Keep her out of harm's way." Puddles shrugged. "Prevent her from being used as a tool. With how much is on my plate, that's about the best anyone could possibly hope for. Even if her situation did turn out to be identical to mine, that would still be a lot of work to fix, and if it ended the same way... Well, best not to dwell on could-have-beens. Let's just say, here's hoping it doesn't take six whole years."

"It won't," I promised, more to Coda than to Puddles. "I won't let that happen."

Puddles stepped back, wrapping the remainder of her rations. "Then let's get a move on. We've been making better time than I expected, and might be able to reach the ship before it gets too dark."

---

Beyond the shipping center, I saw the reason that warehouse had been allowed to grow so long: a dry, cracked riverbank.

Multiple docks and cargo cranes extended from the loading area out over the massive ditch. At the bottom lay a rusted-out boat hull, a frightfully-colored glaze born of myriad desiccated pollutants, and plenty of trash, most of it submerged in the scorched earth from the days when that had been mud.

"Whatever turned this place to a desert made the river dry up," I remarked as Puddles led me towards a fallen crane arm. Crossing it would take some nerves and a decent helping of balance, as well as carrying Coda on my back, but it looked far preferable to the unnaturally-straight riverbed.

"Gyre was a desert long before that," Puddles said, hopping out onto the crane arm with surprising grace. "The rivers just disappeared with Garsheeva."

"What did she have to do with it?" I asked, hefting Coda and following her with care, my gaze never wavering from my hooves.

"During Garsheeva's reign," Puddles explained, "the Empire used waterways as its roads. Instead of building land roads between the provinces, she scooped out trenches long ago with her bare paws, and then filled them with water and created currents using her power over the elements. They had rivers that spun in circles, and even streams that could flow gently uphill... so gently that it was difficult to empirically prove. But her clergy always said so. And when she disappeared, the rivers went back to their natural flow overnight. Most of them became stagnant, evaporated, or simply drained away."

I folded my ears, imagining what that must have been like.

"Gyre was a special case," Puddles continued as I finally made it off the crane without accident, leaving the riverbed behind. "They thought the rivers weren't good enough, so they made their own roads. Like this one."

She patted the far riverbank, which was, indeed, another long, straight road running from the dome of green in the distance that marked the city off into the horizon. I wondered just how long it went, parallel to the river.

"Say what you will about Gyre's hubris," Puddles went on. "I think it's sad, myself. They spent so much effort trying to worship themselves at the end, and not Garsheeva. And then when Garsheeva disappeared, they went away with her. If they had left roads like these for the rest of the Empire and not just their own wasteland, maybe they could have had a little bit of good in their legacy for the continent."

"What's it like everywhere else, then?" I asked. "Do they just have no way of getting around?"

"Yes and no," Puddles said. "The Empire isn't so large that someone determined can't make the journey from end to end if they have the resources to rough it, guard against bandits, and appease all the various factions along the way, but cities and settlements are a lot less connected than they used to be. Town walls are the limit of anyone's allegiance now, not provinces. And fliers, or anyone with an airship, can move around much more easily than the young or old, earth ponies and unicorns, those with families or obligations. Really, it's divided the continent into two classes: those who can get around, and those who are stuck in place."

Well, now that just reminded me of Equestria. And not in a good way.

I stewed on that thought for the next few hours, muscles straining and bracelet burning as we hiked through the desert heat.

My hooves stumped down, one and then another and then a third and then the fourth, over and over, the edges of my boots beginning to chafe, but not harder than my bracelet could repair. Several times I had to check my train of thought, give it a forcible kick in another direction, just to avoid a repeat of the incident where I broke my bracelet walking to Snowport by focusing on nothing but my determination to get there for a week or two of walking. Hopefully two days wasn't enough to cause a repeat of that incident, but still, I was worried.

Fears of immolating myself like Mother had done decades ago seemed mostly unfounded; never in practice had the bracelet come even close to doing that type of damage to me. But getting my bracelet stuck on my own emotions had happened before, and it would be ruinously inconvenient if that happened again.

But I kept my wits about me, and finally, as the sun grew low on the horizon, Coda's ice block betraying not so much as a drop of moisture for all the day's heat, Puddles gave me the words I was waiting for.

"We're almost there," she said, slowing up and pointing. "I dropped anchor just in that warehouse over there."

The warehouse proved to be in such respectable condition that the magical lock on its bay door actually still worked, responding to something in Puddles' armor and grinding open of its own accord - a horrid, rattling grinding, but of its own accord nonetheless.

"Neat, huh?" Puddles beamed. "I fixed it up myself. Pays to have a place of your own in the middle of nowhere from time to time."

The warehouse concealed a dirigible ship, built with a wooden carriage that my knowledge of airships pinned down as roughly thirty years old. It was a fine, venerable ship, with a character suited for altitude, inclement weather and austere luxury, perhaps not fearing combat yet not expecting it to be inevitable, either. An airship from a different age, not terribly unlike the Immortal Dream, when creatures could afford different priorities and the sky was something to explore and marvel at, not to flee through.

I liked this ship. Among airships, it was a knight and a gentleman.

Moments later, I was on the bridge with Coda, relaxing as the propellers buzzed to life and the dirigible inched out from the warehouse, rising into the sky. Puddles leaped over the side just long enough to close the warehouse door behind her, leaving her grapple attached so she could pull herself back up when she was finished, and then she was back, setting a course straight for the setting sun.

If there was a betrayal coming, this would be it. Here I was again, on a stranger's airship, with plenty to lose and no control of our destination.

And yet, somehow, this time felt different.

Puddles shucked off her armor, standing in a device that was part armor stand, part... something else, which held the various pieces out from her so she could quickly and easily remove it, and presumably put it back on again. Once she was bare, I saw a sturdy blue mare with the proportions of a large stallion - but not a huge one. She was caked in dust, sweat and grime, her shoulders wider and more toned than her hips, and she bore a vibrant special talent of a rappelling rope coiled around some hooks and pitons, and a grin that was glad to be home.

"I've got a shower in back," she offered. "You want first dibs, or me?"

I hesitated. "I... You can go first. Where are we going, by the way?"

Puddles shrugged. "I'm going to Wilderwind. Got some other obligations I need to check in on... You don't have to get involved, if you don't want to. As for you, it didn't sound like you had any other plans, so you're welcome to just stay here out of Rhodallis' reach for a while. But let me know if you get any other ideas for where you want to be, and we can add it to the list."

Generous terms. If this really was for real, I'd take it. And if it wasn't, I'd be sleeping with my bracelet on, just in case.

Nothing suspicious happened while Puddles was in the shower, and I took the chance to familiarize myself with the ship's controls. It seemed to have a rudimentary autopilot system that could maintain altitude and bearing, so there was nothing that needed to be done, but this wasn't a setup that took a pilot's license to fly. It seemed to have been made for an enthusiast, not a professional.

By the time Puddles got back, I was feeling comfortable enough to entrust her with Coda while I went to wash up, myself. Nearly a week without a shower, plus everything I had been through over that week... If taking such a minor risk for something I needed this badly wasn't worth it, that wasn't even my fault for not being diligent anymore. That was just the world hating my guts.

I didn't know how much water the ship had stored, so I tried not to dally, even though the suds felt wonderful in my fur. This was the first proper opportunity I had received to check myself over in a long while, too, and I was pleased to see that my changeling queen healing powers were doing their job: no scars from all the places revenants had stabbed me, and no glassy, blackened fur under my bracelet that hinted at the start of an injury like Mother's.

In fact, the shower felt so good that it let me forget about my next pressing problem until it was staring me in the face: my armor was filthy. Just as bad as I had been.

No way was I sleeping in that. In fact, I was hesitant to even touch my boots with a wingtip.

I sighed. That would need to be cleaned sometime when my limbs didn't feel like jelly. And I didn't see anything else to wear in the meantime.

Oh well. Faye and I had been trying to go without our coat from time to time, anyway. And Puddles was just one pony, who could screw me over a lot harder if she wanted to than just by having a weird reaction to my legs. I'd get by.

So I strolled back out onto the bridge, a single corridor connecting rooms at the sides and the shower near the rear to the expansive control room at the front of the dirigible carriage. "Hey," I greeted tiredly, relieved to see Coda just where I left her. "Hope you don't mind if I ditched my armor in the bathroom. I'll clean it in the morning after I get some rest."

Puddles turned to nod at me, a little more quickly once she saw what I looked like. "Woah," she said, raising an appreciative eyebrow. "You're pretty eye-catching!"

I folded my tail to cover my special talent, sensing that she was staring. "Um, thanks?"

She nodded in what was probably understanding. "Sore subject? Well, my identity beneath that armor is a bit of an open secret to anyone who cares enough to find out at this point, but the original point of it was at least partly to get away from the expectations others had for me. I've got a pretty recognizable appearance too, you know, and a story to attach it to. Won't necessarily find that everyone knows about the windigo stuff, but everyone knows the great Wallace Whitewing... Heh. So whatever you're trying not to get recognized for, your secret's safe with me. Even if it's just that you look memorable, period."

"...Thanks," I said, swallowing and pulling myself back together. "I appreciate it."

"By the way," Puddles added, "I know I just said I wasn't going to pry, but... Actually, forget it. I did just say I wasn't going to pry."

My ears flicked, and I smirked a wry smirk. "Well, when you put it like that, can I really not know what you were going to ask?"

"Your special talent," Puddles said. "It looks a lot like hers." She nodded across at Coda. "Is there... any connection?"

My whole body shivered. "That's..." I pressed my ears back. "Not something I'd like to talk about until I know you a whole lot better."

"Fair enough." Puddles didn't seem bothered. "We've all got our secrets. Anyway, pick out any cabin that looks unused, find wherever to stash Coda, and get some rest, unless you really like watching the night go by. We'll be in Wilderwind by morning, but I'll be sleeping in since I've gotta stay up to pilot. So, uh, feel free to sleep in, or explore, or wait for me, or whatever you feel like. Figure out your own breakfast, and once we resupply at port, I'll treat you to a nice, big lunch. As a fellow enjoyer, or at least tolerator of bad riddles, it's the least I can do."

I nodded gratefully. Maybe this was for real.

Of course, if Puddles herself was a good pony, then the law of cosmic balance dictated that whatever business she was flying into Wilderwind for was a hideous political rat's nest that would make even my new, hardened resolve turn to spaghetti. But given the state of the world at large, that was probably a given anyway.

So, maybe the universe would allow this nascent partnership to turn out alright.

Comments

[Mini-Joe]

Didn't think we'd get to see puddles, but I'm sure glad we did.

[RoboRed]

There's a name I haven't seen in a while.

[PropsValroa]

Hope she turns out to be good for Halycon.

[Venlinelle]

I stared at her, relevant new information flooding into my head. Redemption of criminals, equality of races, didn't that sound a lot like Kitty's stated goals of evolving beyond the constraints of being a windigo?

Now that is interesting. It implies that Puddles… Well, I guess we can’t use that name for the windigo anymore. It implies that Kitty actually took inspiration from Wallace, even though they had an apparently oppositional relationship back in the day.

It’s really fun to see the original Puddles! I wonder how she’ll feel to learn that her old bodysnatcher is still around.