Daring Do and the Iron Pyramid

by Unwhole Hole

Chapter 2: Getting In (and Out) of an Inn

The desert town had grown cold as night approached, although it was far from sleepy. Most ponies had simply returned to their homes, their windows lit by candles and lanterns. Others, though, had migrated to small restraints, sitting in the glow of their own lights as they talked and laughed. Daring Do, now dressed in a much more breathable collared shirt, watched them but did not approach. She had decided that they did not like her—and would not until she came back from their pyramid bearing every kind of new artifact and cultural knowledge she could get her hooves upon. It was what she had considered as she walked through the chilly streets. That they were afraid because they were unsure what existed in the south, but as soon as the new avenues of knowledge about their own culture were opened, Daring Do would find herself a hero. Perhaps she would even buy a house here, and she would have friends for the first time and be able to be in the restaurants at night. Or so was her fantasy, at least.

She paused, looking up at the moon. It was full and bright, the craters in its surface forming the apparent face of a pony, always watching. Nearly every Equestrian culture had legends about the moon, and it was invariably considered evil—and yet the most powerful families of Singapone bore its symbol. Daring Do was not sure why. She had always found the orb distinctly peaceful.

Something moved beside her, but Daring Do scarcely responded. Wun—as much as she would claim to the contrary—had a distinct smell, like moss and flowers. Daring Do had learned to recognize it at a very young age, as Wun made virtually no sound when she moved.

“How did it go?”

“Excellent. I managed to purchase the cactus.” Wun held the prize aloft, now sitting in a clay pot and held firmly by her magic. “And I did not even need to puncture the camel. I shall plant it in my personal garden and name it Steve.”

“And the supplies?”

“I do not need supplies right now. Only cactus.”

Daring’s stomach groaned. She had not eaten since they arrived, apart from the free kebab, and that was hardly enough to keep her teenage metabolism sated for very long. “Maybe we should go back to them? They’re the only ones that will talk to us.”

“Ah. No. Not today.”

“Why?”

“Because right now is Wednesday night.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I find it unlikely that you will ever find out.” Wun brushed past her. “Regardless. I have grown tired. Now is a time to sleep.”

“I guess we can go back to the airship.” Daring Do looked into the distance, only to find that the port was on the far side of the city. She could barely see the spires in the dark sky and moonlight.

“That will not be informative. I am, in part, responsible for your education. You have lived a remarkably sheltered life so far, and are very soft and mildly squishy.”

“If you’re going to start with the fat jokes--”

“You are not fat, just poorly formed. Very small. Not everypony is a pureblood unicorn as I am. You are...adequate? Brown. No. We ought to stay somewhere local.”

“How are we supposed to do that? Nobody will even talk to us.”

Wun began walking. “Every town has a place for foreigners and pariahs, as you are. We shall find it. Hence your education.”

There was, indeed, a location. Outside of town, somewhat in the desert but lying not far from a batch of palm trees and a pleasant minor oasis. It was a building, one in the style of many of the others but with obvious influence of northern architecture. Something that had been built some time ago, possibly by early settlers or explorers from the north. Perhaps it had started as a place for ponies to stay, or perhaps something as mundane as a trading post for passing caravans—or both, even.

Daring Do stopped and looked up at the sign over the door, written in several languages.

“‘The Get Out Inn?’ That doesn’t sound very inviting.”

“Invitations are for the genetically weak. You can stay outside if you like.”

Wun put her cactus near the door and entered the inn, and Daring paused for a moment before following her inside.

The inside was at least warm, and warmly lit. Immediately Daring Do felt some sense of comfort, a certain naturalness to it all. The way the space was open, with a bar in the rear and several tables set out beneath the low ceiling. There were spaces to sit, and stairs to the upper level, but exactly how it made her feel was truly difficult to describe. Having spent her entire life surrounded by nearly unfathomable wealth, it was one of the first times she had ever felt at home.

The sensation did not entirely depart from her but changed somewhat when she saw the clientele seated at some of the tables. Her and Wun were clearly not the foreigners present. At one table, she saw a pair of donkeys in dusty robes, their conversation quieting as Wun entered and switching from Equestrian to Assyrian. On the far side of the room, sitting in a chair, she saw several ponies wrapped entirely in robes sitting beside a young stallion who was completely asleep in his chair, their eyes distant and empty. Nearest to the door sat a group of roguish individuals, with a heavyset earth pony in a wide-brimmed hat beside a thin Pegasus with a narrow mustache and a griffon hen with an eye-patch, her sword at her side.

These were not locals, nor were they the sort that could rent space from the bunkhouses near the port. These were not the type who would sing and dance themselves to a peaceful sleep each night in the company of friends. These were a certain sleepless sort, the kind that made their wealth and one day met their ends in the wastes beyond the city’s reach.

The presence of these rouges tickled something within Daring Do, but at the same time stirred within her a deep teenage anxiety. She felt the eyes, and felt them watching. As homelike as the place felt, suddenly she found herself feeling so very small. She was glad that Twilight Felt had given her a shirt that made her look at least like she was somewhat supposed to be there. Had she been alone, she doubted she could have entered. She would have just turned back and flown straight to her spacious bunk on the corsair.

Wun, however, was incapable of reservations. She did not doubt and never hesitated. The eyes that Daring Do feared immediately turned to her, and Wun knew it. Daring Do did as well. It was something she had never been taught because it never needed to be. Wun was born to the Equestrian master race, and more than that was an apex of racial purity. As a pureblood unicorn, she expected attention, demanded it, even. Not consciously. It was simply expected, and she always received it. Wearing an ornate dress and carrying her parasol at her side only drew their attention more.

In that, Daring Do felt a twinge of jealousy. It was a paradoxical emotion, because she did not want the attention. She was inherently shy—but she still felt jealous. That she, a young pale-brown Pegasus, would always be the less attractive sister. Male—or female, in the case of the griffon—attention would never be directed at her.

Wun reached the bar, gracefully planting herself on one of the stools. Daring Do sat beside her. The barkeep, a middle-aged mare, did not seem especially enthused by their presence. Especially the fact that Wun very seldom blinked, and had a tendency to stare.

“Is there something you want?” she asked.

Wun did not answer. Her eyes swiveled instead to Daring Do.

“Um—yes,” sputtered Daring. “We’d like to rent a room, if that’s okay? And get some food? If the kitchen’s still open. And something to drink, maybe?”

The barkeep raised an eyebrow. “Do you have money?”

Daring Do fumbled with one of her pockets and produced a coin. She put it down on the counter. “Is that enough?”

The barkeep looked distinctly displeased. She looked down at the single, measly coin. “If that’s all you have, stop taking up space on...my...” A look of recognition passed behind her eyes, but she hid the emotion well. She stared more closely at the coin, and then looked up at the pair of foreigners with distinct distrust.

“Is this a joke?”

“Um...no?”

“That’s a Singapone Rhen.”

“Yes. Why, is it not enough?”

“Not enough? No. I can’t make change for something that large. Word of advice, girl. Don’t flash coin like that around.” She pushed it back to Daring Do. “Find some real money.”

Wun produced a small glass vial filled with shards of a silvery metal. “This will cover it.”

The barkeep looked at it, and then took it, turning to the kitchen. “Freaks,” she said, under her breath.

Daring felt her face growing warm. “I messed up, didn’t I?”

“Yes. I found it comical. Perhaps if you had studied monetary conversions in addition to father’s books, you would not have made this mistake. Or perhaps if you were smarter.”

Daring pushed Wun’s side, causing her stool to swivel. Wun smiled, rotating slowly. As she did, Daring noticed that some of the other ponies had stood. Specifically, the earth pony in the hat and his friends. They had stood, and they were approaching the bar.

The narrow Pegasus sat beside Daring Do, reeking of stale cider and sweat. He smiled, revealing precious few teeth and a large gold one. The griffon hen sat next to Wun, and the earth pony approached from behind.

Daring Do felt her heart racing. She was afraid—but also disturbingly excited. She could feel it in her wings, an uncontrolled ruffling. Something interesting was about to happen.

Wun apparently felt nothing and continued to revolve on her stool’s well-greased bearings. Then the earth pony eventually stopped her, so that she was facing him.

“Stop that,” he said.

“I just did.”

The earth pony’s eyes narrowed. “You’re new here,” he growled. “So, fine. Maybe you don’t know the rules.”

“I am not a fan of such things. A waste of effort, really.”

“Shut up. Let me spell it out through you, so you’re sure to get it past that piece of bone sticking out of your face. We don’t like your kind here.”

“Attractive mares?” Wun’s large eyes swiveled to the griffon beside her. “Ah. I see.”

“Excuse me?!” The griffon ruffled.

“Not mares,” snapped the earth pony. “Witches. Unicorns. Especially Japony ones.”

Several glasses violently exploded behind the bar, causing the barkeep to jump. Daring Do stiffened. This was definitely on the verge of getting interesting.

“Considering that Japonies are Pegasi, what would make you think I am such? I could see my sister, as no one knows who her mother was. But I am quite clearly NOT.”

The earth-pony leaned in close. “You’ve got the curvy horn, and the squinty eyes. So get out of my bar.”

Daring Do sat up suddenly. “You son of a horse--”

She was shoved back into her seat by the Pegasus beside her. Despite his thin figure, he was wiry.

“Daring, show some decorum,” sighed Wun. She faced the earth-pony, whose face was now inches from hers. She smiled. “Do you feel jealousy over the length and hardness of my horn? Does it perhaps remind you of your father’s?”

The earth pony’s eyes narrowed. “My father was an earth pony. I’m pure--”

“Yes, I am sure that is what your mother told him, and he was a fool enough to believe it. Of course he was, seeing as he could not tell that his wife was one of...well, them.” Wun pointed her horn toward the table of donkeys. One stood up suddenly.

“HEY! I resemble that comment!”

“Are you calling me a mule?!” hissed the earth pony.

“No. Mules are warm, snugly, and sterile. You are only one of those things.”

Daring Do tried to suppress laughter, but snorted. It was clearly not the correct thing to do.

“Fine,” snapped the earth pony, suddenly smiling. “We were going to be friendly and let you go outside where you belong, and maybe only take half your coin. Now I’ll have all of it...and that curved horn of yours.”

He moved swiftly, reaching for something beneath his coat. Daring Do moved too, giving the stallion beside her a hoof to a place where no stallion would like to receive a hoof. She was too slow, though, and saw the griffon beside Wun reaching for her sword.

Then it was over in an instant. Everything surrounding them seemed to move, surrounded in green magic. The griffon’s sword leapt from her hand and the earth pony yipped as his tail was removed, and then froze as the tip of the sword was put against the joint between his skull and first vertibra. The knife he had been reaching for was levitated and flung against the Pegasus’s right wing, and the shards of glass that Wun had broken earlier appeared in a ring around the griffon hen’s neck.

“Another separation between myself and the Japonies,” mused Wun. “I loathe bladed weapons. They occupy a region of distinct mediocrity. A point where a pony is too mentally underdeveloped to use magic, but too weak to use his own hooves. A toy for children and a tool of incompetent cowards.”

The silent air was suddenly filled with a distinct thwip, and Daring felt something pass through her mane. Wun’s magic flashed, grabbing the crossbow bolt out of the air inches from her eye. Daring, now suddenly shaking violently, turned around slowly and saw the barkeep holding a crossbow.

“The next one is dimeritium. Unless you’re a vedmak, it won’t miss.”

“Have I done something wrong?”

The barkeep pointed to a large sign. “No fighting,” she said, not even looking at it. “Number one rule. The ONLY rule. Do you know how expensive it is to replace furniture? I don’t want some loud-mouth rich kid to wreck my whole front room. OUT. You’re banned. You’re all banned!”

Wun stared at her, and then snapped the bolt in her magic. “As you wish,” she said. “I accept the terms of these rules.”

She released the other ponies and the griffon, and stood form her stool. Then she immediately began undressing, removing her dress and stockings and folding them neatly. She gave them and her parasol to Daring Do and stood in the room completely nude save for a thin silver chain around her neck adorned with a disturbingly cut blue-green gemstone.

“I will be sleeping outside, then.”

“Wun, don’t--”

“It is not a problem. I saw the sign and accepted this outcome.”

She began walking toward the door. Daring sighed and slid off her stool, only to be stopped by a hoof on her shoulder.

“Not you,” sighed the barkeep.

“Not...me?”

“Yes not you, are you deaf? You hardly did anything at all, and I’m not about to put a girl your age out on the street on a night like this. In this town, you’ll get eaten alive.” She paused, looking at the male Pegasus, now in the fetal position on the floor and silently screaming. “And next time, aim for the gut.”

“Because that was rude?”

“No. Because if he closed his leg’s he’d of caught your hoof.” She sighed. “You can stay here as long as you want. As long as you need to. But not her.”

“Wow. Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. And don’t fight in my hotel.” She looked up to the griffon and the earth pony, who were inching toward your seats. “And you! I already gave you a warning! Get out! OUT!”

“But—but—the spiders!” whimpered the griffon.

“I don’t care, it’s your own fault! Get out of my inn!” They started to move, the griffon picking up the wounded Pegasus from the floor. “AND,” said the barkeep. “Just so you know? The ones like her, with the pointy teeth? They can see in the dark. So watch yourselves.”

“Wait, what?”

“OUT!”

Begrudgingly, the group left, and the rest of the patrons went back to what they were doing.

“Mercenaries,” growled the barkeep. “Third-rate hacks. The group that came through two weeks ago, THOSE were mercenaries.” She blushed slightly. Then she sighed. “Let me show you to your room. With a sister like that, you probably need to sleep. For a long time. I’ll bring you up some food later.”

Daring Do sighed. She was, indeed, tired, and profoundly so.

The room was not spacious or cavernous like every room she was familiar with. There was a wooden floor that creaked when she walked on it, and the carpet on it felt warm. There was a bed, and a desk, and a window.

Daring Do approached the window and looked out. The lights in the city were being turned out, but in the light of the moon she saw Wun, standing in the middle of a sandy field with her cactus. Wun turned and waved to her, then lay down in the sand. She wriggled in a serpentine motion and in an instant had vanished beneath the surface of the sand. Then everything was still as she proceeded to wait.

Daring sighed and sat down at the desk. There was a small light filled with southern fireflies. Their glow was strange, but comforting.

She produced her pile of books and set them down. The one on the top was the blank one. She took it out and opened it, staring at the page. She opened the bottle of ink and smelled it. It smelled like ink, and she liked the smell.

She sat for another several minutes before she started, trying her best to write what had happened to her. It took her the better part of an hour, but she stopped halfway through and sat back, groaning.

It was all wrong. Her own character was too weak and boring, and the setting had been so grand she was having a hard time putting it into words. She had even tried to write part of a fight scene with Wun, but it just came out muddled and confusing. She had no confidence in what she had written, and knew it was terrible and inadequate. She leaned forward, took the quill in her mouth, and scratched out the whole thing.

Putting her head down for a second, she groaned and then pushed the book away. Maybe writing was not for her after all. Instead, she took the thinnest book from the pile and opened it.

“‘Unicorns: Fact or Fiction?’” she read, reading from the title. It sounded like an interesting enough work, and it was the only one written in Equestrian. She of course knew the languages of the others, her father had made sure of that—but this would be the easiest to get through quickly.

She turned the page in the book and began taking notes. That was at least something she knew how to do.

Comments

[alamais]

The group that came through two weeks ago, THOSE were mercenaries.

She wriggled in a serpentine motion and in an instant had vanished beneath the surface of the sand. Then everything was still as she proceeded to wait.

Wait...what?