The Ghost of Coltistrano: Restless Peace

by EthanClark

Chapter 7: “That’s quite a large ‘if’ you’ve presented, Gorn…"

Much care was taken in removing her large claw from the door to the captain's cabin. She drew it shut and gently pulled it past the latch, and with a satisfying click it was finally nestled into the wood frame. Gilda turned to face the deck.

The Tornado was drifting silently through the nighttime sky, mingling with the stars above on its course through the cloudless air as Equestria slumbered below its hull, casting its shadow in the moonlight above the sea of twinkling lights from towns below. The gryphon turned her head towards the helm and spied Gorn. He stood firm, defiant to the temptations of sleep as his grip on the wheel tightened. When the two shared a glance he simply nodded. Gilda scanned the deck and found only one pony out at this time of night, and her violet locks waved gently in the breeze.

“What’s shakin’?” Gilda asked once she crossed the deck to Rarity.

“This boat,” she returned with a chuckle, pushing her saddlebag aside to welcome the visitor. “Oh, only another grand capper you’ve managed to wrap me into. How are you?”

“Shocked you decided to come with. No offense, but even after Manehatten I never thought you were one for getting into scrapes.” Gilda stood beside her, leaning against the railing and peering out over the world below.

“I’ve been known to get into the ‘rough and tumble’ once or twice, Gilda, and as I recall I’m ahead on our little game by four.”

“Oh, yeah, little miss marshmallow? Well, you heard about the eight Night Guard that broke into Silver’s house, right? Guess who bagged them. Yours truly.” Gilda flourished her talons and flexed, letting her wingspan spill out over the deck in a display of strength.

“But of course, dear, I’ve heard all about how Silver incapacitated the main squad before wounding the straggler enough for ‘yours truly’ to catch him.”

“Hey! Who do you think snagged B-team, huh? Uh, moi, as you prissy types like to say.”

“Well, as I live and breathe, Gilda, it seems we’re tied.”

“Bet your sweet flank we… wait a minute…” Gilda’s eyes went from fiery to flummoxed as she counted her claws carefully, only locking eyes with Rarity after her grin went sour. “Yeah, we’re tied.”

“Don’t feel too bad about it, you took a serious gash to your leg while we were in Baltimare. That earns you some sympathy points.” Rarity giggled a bit as she patted the gryphons now ruffling feathers.

“You’re a smart ass.”

“Ahem, I am a lady.”

“Sorry, a dignified smart ass.”

“Much better.”

Rarity’s triumphant sigh carried on the breeze as she peered out across the glittering landscape below. Her eyes traced the paths between distant towns, the thin clouds on the horizon, the soft light twinkling in the air.

“I missed this, Gilda. For all your coarse edges you truly are a joy to talk to.”

“Y-Yeah, thanks. Kinda cool hearing that from you. I haven’t had a lot of girl friends since joining this crew.” Bashful stammering was highlighted by a claw reaching up to scratch her feathered fringe.

“But you’ve taken a lover, yes?”

“What, no! Did that dork tell you? Is he pranking me? Imma go hit him, just once.” Gilda’s eyes shot daggers at the door to the captain’s cabin.

“No, no, Gilda, you’re missing a primary,” Rarity said, pointing a hoof to Gilda’s left wing. “Forgive me, I suspected you had given it to someone.”

“Oh... you knew that? I mean, that gryphons...”

“Of course. My clients aren’t only ponies, you know, and more than once I’ve fitted a wedding gown with the given primary feather as a centerpiece. I think it’s a beautiful tradition.”

“Wow… that’s, like, actually really cool, Rarity.”

“Thank you, dear. Have you ever thought about it, someday?”

“Eh, someday. Would make running the bakery easier”

“You bake? Gilda, that’s so unexpected! What’s it called?”

“‘Golden Goods’. Well, I wanted ‘Suga-pocalypse’ because, trust me, if I had pony teeth they’d’ve fallen out after all this time, but I’m trying to be all professional, so here we are.”

“Simple, memorable, almost rhymes. Ooh, Gilda I love it! Do you enjoy it? I’m sure it’d be difficult not to, with a little company.”

“It’s a lot more fun than I thought it’d be. Silver bought the building and gave it to me.”

“Ha! Of course he did.”

“It was, like, six months ago, and you should’ve seen how much he ate on opening night. Like he hadn’t eaten cake in years.”

“Well, knowing him, he probably hadn’t,” Rarity giggled.

Gilda shook her head and gave a rough chuckle, reveling in the banter, before letting out a content sigh.

“Of course, that was before he was so… um…”

“Tired?”

“Yeah. I think all the fun from Manehatten died out after a few months, and now he’s just kinda coasting, you know?”

“Yes… How is he?”

“Out cold. Dweeb would’ve never gone to sleep if we had stayed in Canterlot.”

“Does he usually do that?” The question leaked from Rarity’s mouth slowly, trembling toward the end.

“Eh, kinda? This gryphon likes her beauty sleep, so I don’t know what he actually does at night, but probably.”

“Oh, dear, he’s running himself ragged. I could tell from the moment I saw him.”

“Eh, he’s tough. He can take it, but it doesn’t take a genius to tell he’s a little loco in the coco,” Gilda said with a smirk, spinning one of her claws beside her head.

“You never worry about him?”

“Why would I? Silver’s a nerd, yeah, but we’ve both seen him in action, and it’ll take more than a couple sleepless nights to put him in a hole. Don’t worry about him.”

“You wouldn’t be saying that if you saw him today.”

“Did you bring up the whole ‘dual lives’ thing?”

Rarity silenced herself, letting the steady breeze speak for her as Gilda gave a long, forceful sigh. Gilda’s sharp eye could spot Gorn from where she stood. She guessed he was listening in, with the way his vision flicked back and forth between them and the airborne path ahead. She chose to ignore it, waving a lethargic claw in his direction as she returned her attention to Rarity.

“He just never talks to me,” Rarity said.

“Yeah, he doesn’t talk to anyone, that’s his big problem. I’ve caught him mumbling to himself in his dumb ‘nerd cave’ more than once, rambling about the stuff he’s lost thanks to General Tightwad.”

“But doesn’t that bother you? The fact that he just bottles it up inside and does nothing about it?”

“I’m not good at the whole ‘empathy’ thing, that’s pony stuff, but if he’s got something wrong he’ll talk about it on his own. Least, that’s what Ms. Hearts says.” Gilda’s breath was unsteady, her wings tightened around her chest, and her firm eye contact with the ground below told Rarity just how little Gilda believed her own words.

“I think you’re very good at empathy, Gilda, just not too skilled at expressing it,” she said softly, placing a hoof on Gilda’s shoulder.

“Ha! What gave you that idea?”

“Your sarcasm, for starters, and the playfully coarse way you laugh off compliments.”

“Ouch, read me like a book. And what about you, then, little miss marshmallow? What’s your baggage?”

“I haven’t the slightest idea what you mean.”

“Uh-huh, because totally normal ponies with totally normal lives join up with the Ghost for totally normal adventures.”

“There’s the sarcasm again,” Rarity smirked.

She turned to look out over the landscape drifting below them. Even in the pale light of the moon and stars Gilda’s uncanny vision could see every small movement of Rarity’s eyes, never focusing on one thing, drifting from point to point within the space before her, and along her muzzle was a soft underline of color. The silence grew longer, and Gilda’s beak was soon wearing a smirk.

“Yep, Rusty owes me ten bits.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You ain’t the only one with ‘special eyes’, Rarity. I know what that look means.”

“What look?”

“That look.”

“I haven’t the slightest idea what you mean,” she pouted.

“And that must be your go-to line for hiding something, right?”

The accusation clamped Rarity’s mouth shut, and instead allowed an irritated frown to form. Gilda, however, lost all restraint and broke out at the precious display put on by Rarity as she slapped the ship’s railing in a half-hearted attempt to regain control of her emotions.

“I do not appreciate being picked apart like that,” Rarity said, turning her attention from Gilda sharply.

“I thought you’d like to know I learned a thing or two about detecting from you.”

“W-Well…” Rarity’s hooves fidgeted as she tumbled them over themselves.

“Sorry, sorry, gryphons are a little less serious about feelings than ponies.”

“I will assume the teasing means we’re friendly, yes?”

“You got it, and don’t worry. I ain’t gonna tell nobody.”

“Just between us girls?”

“Yeah,” Gilda said, watching Rarity rest her haunches on the deck and give a long sigh.

“I wish I knew what to say.”

“‘Sup babe’ always worked for me.”

“Yes, well, ‘sup babe’ is hardly how a lady courts somepony. There’s interest and comradery, and to let them know the depth of your emotions before two hearts become one. One cannot just dive into it, not without knowing how the other feels, too.” Rarity became more and more articulate as she spoke, a warm bravado in her voice. Gilda simply cocked an eyebrow.

“Yeah, and when was the last time that worked?”

“Oh please, Gilda, you act as if I’m incapable of finding romance with any-”

“With somepony who mattered?”

Again, Rarity found herself muted by Gilda’s bluntness. Her mouth flapped in search of something witty to retort with, but try as she might the knowing and unamused stare from the gryphon kept her silenced. Gilda huffed.

“All that prissy edicate stuff might work for the rich airheads you hang out with, but the rest of us schmucks all gotta find love the only we can.”

“B-But there’s a protocol to this, Gilda. Courting is a delicate practice.”

“No it’s not,” Gilda deadpanned.

“Well, what would you suggest I do?” Rarity asked, annoyed.

“Say it.” Gilda’s words seemed to slap Rarity across the face.

“You say that like it’s easy.”

“Cuz it is. Not everything’s a mystery.”

“I can hardly do it now, though.”

“Well, no shit, we’re chasing a murdering weirdo across the country. Do it when we’re done.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

A breeze jostled Rarity’s mane. As she sat on the deck of the Tornado, leaded against the railing and gazing into the space between her and Gilda, she couldn’t help but release a soft and airy scoff into the wind. Gilda watched the grin form on the unicorn’s face and found one growing on her, in return.

“You’re far more empathetic than you give yourself credit for, Gilda,” Rarity finally said.

“Yeah, yeah, you weirdos have softened me up… a bit.”

“Ladies.”

A voice spoke from across the deck, nearing them. The matted and aged face of Gorn came into their vision as his jagged claws clacked against the wooden deck. “Apologies fer interruptin’, if I could ‘ave a word with Rarity.”

“Gorn,” Rarity said, almost dismissively. “Of course… Gilda, you’re a dear. Talk tomorrow?”

“Sure, Rarity.” With that, Gilda retreated across and below deck through the cargo port, leaving the two alone.

“I, err… I hate t’be botherin’ you.”

“Oh no, the ‘bothering’ is already done. Can I help you?” Rarity watched an uncharacteristic twitch in Gorn’s beak as he fumbled over his words.

“When last we spoke, I imagine ye ‘ad a right sour impression a’me.”

“A fine descriptor,” she interjected.

“Aye, but I was angry, an’ a tad too deep in the hooch that night. An honest mistake I’ve come to regret.”

“Forgive me, Gorn, but I’m not sure there’s much left in you that’s honest.”

“Well my word is, an’ I’ve come to apologize. Ye might think me a bastard, but even a bastard knows when a line’s been crossed, savvy?”

Rarity stared at Gorn with a piercing gaze, as if analyzing each and every word the aging gryphon gave her. Her expression softened.

“Thank you, Gorn, better late than never.”

“Aye. Ye’ve a good heart, miss. The bilge rat always spoke well of ye.” A smile stretched across his face, accentuating his crooked beak. “

“‘Bilge rat’?” Rarity asked.

“Eh… Silver, the lad, said ye got the keenest mind in Equestria, which is why I been wantin’ to ask ye somethin’... ye believe ‘em? ‘Bout Shield Wall bein’ dead, an’ all?”

“Well, there hasn’t been evidence to the contrary. Not yet.”

“An’ that’s my point. There ain’t. Nary a piece a’his rotten hide beneath all that rubble.”

“The rubble is what killed Shield Wall, Gorn, the Ragged Mare buried him.”

“Did she?” His voice grew colder as he spoke. “No surprise to ye, but I’ve pulled a swindle or two in my time, an’ nary once ‘ave I seen a stunt as backwards as this. Putin’ a spell through Gavel’s head, blastin’ the whole lot with another, even meltin’ a poor sod, only to bury the one ye hate more than anythin’?”

“Murderers are hardly ever so thorough in their plans, like the wild attack on Countess Glow.”

“Aye, aye, but she tried to use magic on her, right?”

“I don’t understand your point, Gorn.”

“Then how ‘bout this? Shield Wall ain’t under that mess. The bomb was a diversion while the bastard was off escapin’ the city.”

At first, Rarity felt the urge to simply leave the conversation, but Gorn’s proposal lingered in her ear. Her mind wandered through itself, putting the pieces together in a confusing web of knowledge, reviewing the tragic events of just the last day. Her brow furrowed.

“That’s quite a large ‘if’ you’ve presented, Gorn… and if true it would mean we’re being played. How do you suppose he could be alive?”

“I fought ‘im alongside Darrox for years. There ain’t no one more clever or more brutal, an’ I know the bastard scarcely ever was a step behind. I’m guessin’ he planned the break with those Night Guard lot. To ‘ave ‘em bust in, snatch Gavel, and blow the prison to put everyone in the same trap yer in now. He just never thought to be gettin’ interrupted durin’ a prison break.”

“You think, from prison, he’s managed to fool both us and the entire city of Canterlot into thinking he’s dead?”

“Aye, an’ it works ‘cause we all want it to be true.”

“But how could Shield Wall be capable of such a stunt?”

“‘Cause it’s what he does.”

Even Gorn’s failing vision could see the words sink into Rarity’s ears like knives. Before she could respond she watched Gorn slowly walk across deck, toward the cargo port, before he turned to face her again. “Give it some thought.”

With that, Rarity was left alone on the deck of the ship, her only company a sharp tingle crawling up her back, and suddenly the brisk night air became warm against her fur, standing on edge. She slid against the railing and landed on the deck. From the saddlebag, still beside her, floated her journal, flipping to the first empty page and pressing her quill to it.

If we weren’t in the thick of it before, we certainly are, now. The dear Countess Abundant Glow has been made a target of this vicious murderer, and I shudder to think what would’ve become of her had Silver and I arrived even a moment later. He fought her, of course, valiant as always, but the true struggle was watching him and Abby awkwardly fumble over their words to each other. He never told me why they separated, though I’m not complaining. A fact Gilda made painfully clear to me.

Oh, Gilda. Coarse, brutally honest, and a terrific friend, once you accept her crassness. It would be a challenge to overstate just how relieved I am to have a voice of reason along on this journey, despite her penchant for reading others. An ability I struggle to appreciate fully. Now I must not only uncover the identity of this killer, but keep my own emotional responses in check, too. For now, anyways.

That leads me to Gorn. He was kind enough to apologize for his utter disrespect on the mountain on that cursed night, and his many offences since, but now he’s gotten it in his head that Shield Wall could be-

She hesitated at the word. With a ragged sigh she steadied herself, returned the quill to the page, and continued, slowly this time.

It’s a wild notion, to be sure, but even despite my better judgement I can’t help but consider his proposal, wild as it may be. Were that monster still alive then our journey would become far more perilous. Another crooked plot, another trail of chaos, and my darling Silver caught once more charging off into the fray, as if nopony else could. He’s so tired. Everypony sees it, and I’m scared to think such a revelation might break him. The very thought is agony.

Rarity’s gaze drifted from the journal and up toward the night sky. Cold air nipped at her ears, growing numbness failing to distract her from the truly chilling thought swirling in her mind. Gorn’s words echoed within her. She shivered.