14. Tourist Traps
The three of them got to stay in a hotel room for free. With so many empty buildings around, one couldn’t reasonably charge rent. Even with most of the ghosts living in the same few blocks, there were still ten empty rooms per pony.
They couldn’t even offer you a ‘nice’ room as ghosts were hardly repulsed by the derelict. It hadn’t hit Zest until she came into the room how much her aesthetic preferences had changed.
The place they were staying wouldn’t be remotely acceptable to a living pony, even if they were somehow immune to all the city’s toxins. Thick dust covered everything. The wallpaper had peeled until it covered less than half the wall. The windows were painted over black and thick, mildewy curtains hung over them.
The place probably smelled like death, but Zest would never know. Dust looked almost appealing to her now. Nothing about it was remotely unsettling.
The only concern she had upon seeing the room was that it was five stories up. Zest had never once been able to sleep above ground nor had she ever seen another ghost perform such a feat. There were two large slabs of concrete, however, which she was assured would suffice.
The room didn’t let the slightest bit of light in between the black windows and heavy curtains. Zest could still sense it was a bright, sunny day outside, though. That feeling of being snowed in was familiar enough by now.
Outside, the thick aura of so many ghosts took the place of the nightly noises of a large city. No ghost would go out during the day. They had no choice but to settle down or go to sleep and Zest could feel the calm in the air.
Indigo had already sunk into one of the concrete beds and Zest felt through her aura that she was already asleep. Meanwhile, Zest was stuck getting lectured and combed by Sugarcoat.
Zest thought she looked so cool at the end of that little exchange. As it turned out, getting overly excited and going along for a ride with Max had left her hair a total mess. Her tail looked like something better suited for a raccoon and her mane converted into a clump of spikes jutting out at awkward angles. Even her fur stood up on end, making her look slightly fat.
Sugarcoat created a comb of enchanted ice – the only thing that could hope to tame Zest’s ethereal hair. Running it through caused sparks to shoot out, releasing static electricity and allowing her hair to become reasonable once more.
“You’re still far too much like a filly,” Sugarcoat told her. “Your entire exchange with Max was immature.”
“He started it,” Zest whined.
“That’s what a foal would say.” Sugarcoat clicked her tongue. “And you need to care more about your mane in public.”
“Yeah. Thanks, Mom.” Zest sighed.
“Hmph!” Sugarcoat jerked the comb to break through a tangle. “I might as well be. Your real parents didn’t seem to finish their job. If I had you from the beginning, you’d be a proper mare by now.”
“Yes, Mom.” It hurt because it was true.
Strange as it sounded, Sugarcoat was the best mother Zest ever had. If Sugarcoat had raised her, Zest doubted she would have been allowed to drop out of high school or turn to a life of crime. Maybe Zest would have ended up a little too strait-laced, but that sounded better than how she was now.
But then, ghosts never got to raise foals, did they? Zest wondered if she was the youngest pony Sugarcoat had ever taken in. She’d been keeping an eye out in Manehattan, and it seemed teenaged-looking ponies made up maybe one percent of the population.
Sugarcoat must have never gotten the chance to foal in life. Maybe Zest was the closest she’d ever get to that.
Zest supposed that meant she could never have her own foal either. That much was well enough. Zest couldn’t take care of a foal. Heck, she still needed somepony to take care of her.
“I’m guessing Indigo was the same way.” Sugarcoat spared a look for Indigo. “Foals who don’t get enough discipline and attention end up acting childish their whole life. At least you’re still young and impressionable enough for me to fix that.”
“Thanks, Mom.” Zest didn’t entirely mean that as a joke this time.
She closed her eyes and felt the brush moving through her mane. Cozy memories of being a filly drifted back into her mind. For a moment, it was no different than having a mother again. Even Sugarcoat began to relax in her sternness.
Everything felt fine for a moment.
Sugarcoat probably thought Zest’s mother was outright neglectful. Zest opened her eyes, unable to fully embrace the moment with that misconception in the air.
“It wasn’t her fault, though.” Zest turned her head aside, making Sugarcoat’s job ever so slightly more difficult. “She just got sick. I’m the one who did something stupid.”
Sugarcoat paused for a moment, giving Zest the chance to elaborate. When Zest failed at that, Sugarcoat grabbed her chin and pushed her head right back to its proper position.
“Oh?”
“I don’t really want to talk about it.”
Sugarcoat would have been able to feel her shame, too, which always made Zest even more embarrassed.
“Neh.” Sugarcoat tapped her temple with the comb. “You’re probably curious what Meltdown was talking about before.”
Zest’s ears perked back up. Was she talking about her life prior to Shadowbolt Academy? Sugarcoat didn’t like opening up about that either… which made Zest assume she’d been up to crime as well.
“I used to live in one of the ghost cities, Whitetail Cemetery, with another specter.” Sugarcoat closed her eyes. Zest’s mane was already fine at this point, but she kept brushing it in long, smooth motions. “His name was White Phoenix.”
“Really?” Zest didn’t know any famous ghosts. Now she was wondering how well-known Sugarcoat herself was. “What was he like?”
“I suppose he was like you in some ways.” Sugarcoat stroked her hair. “He was upbeat in the extreme. He was always optimistic and wanted badly to change the world. The Spectral Federation was his idea. I know Indigo was annoyed at the notion of losing our anarchy, but White Phoenix was the one ghost who got the predeads to listen to us.
“He could get just about anypony to listen to him, really. He always spoke with such passion and never lost sight of his goals. He made Whitetail Cemetery into such a vibrant place.”
Zest turned her eyes to catch a small smile on Sugarcoat.
“Did you two get along, though?” Zest imagined this guy as Sugarcoat’s polar opposite. Then again, so was Zest but they were friendly enough.
“I suppose the two of us were.” Sugarcoat looked up at the ceiling. “Well, we got married at one point.”
Zest blinked.
Sugarcoat had been married?! It was a strange, but overwhelmingly adorable idea to Zest!
“Wah!” Zest spun around, beaming and overcome with the urge to hug Sugarcoat. “So you did have a–”
Then she realized what must have happened.
Whitetail Cemetery had been part of the Spectral Federation. It had been destroyed. And Sugarcoat’s husband…
Her smile, her ears, the glint in her eyes, they all slowly drooped away into nothing.
“Oh no!” Zest ended up grabbing her hard anyway. “Then! Is he–?”
“He didn’t survive the battle. I was the only one who escaped with my mind intact.” Sugarcoat set the comb down. She looked through it, at some far-off point. “The enemy tried going after all the specters first. Getting me away was the closest thing to a win we had that day.”
Zest opened her mouth but found nothing to say. She wanted to comfort Sugarcoat so badly, but words seemed so little. Nothing could ever be appropriate. Not compared to losing everything.
If there was absolutely anything she could have done to help, she would have done it. But there was nothing.
Zest grabbed Sugarcoat tighter, sobbing more than the specter herself.
Sugarcoat patted Zest on the back. Even now she was the one doing the comforting.
“I’m sorry.” Zest buried her face in Sugarcoat’s chest. “You help me so much! I wish I could–”
“Relax.” Sugarcoat nuzzled her forehead. “I’m the ‘mom’ here, right? It’s normal.”
Sugarcoat put her hooves on Zest’s withers and pushed her back just enough to look her in the eyes.
“White Phoenix wanted me to keep going, he wanted me to live. I could just barely manage the first one, until… until I realized there were ponies like you who needed me. So you don’t need to apologize. You’ve already done enough.”
“Th-thanks, Mom.” Zest sniffed, then buried her muzzle in Sugarcoat’s chest again. “But I still want to help more. I want to be mature like you’re always saying!”
“That’s how I know there’s some hope for you.” Sugarcoat turned Zest around. She grabbed her tail to start setting that straight as well. “You’re still so young. I know one day, you’ll be the one helping somepony else.”
Zest nodded, determined to make the prediction come true one day.
They took breakfast the following sunset on the first floor of the hotel. Zest finally got to see the animals she’d been able to smell since she got here. She wasn’t expecting what she saw.
A tank filled with live lobsters sat on one side of the lobby. They were the biggest lobsters Zest had ever seen, bigger than a turkey. They were some nasty-looking customers too, purple with little spines running down their backs.
It’d be an intimidating sight, having one right in front of you, was it not bound up and Zest not incorporeal. Zest kept her eyes and ears pinned to hers as it squirmed in its restraints, trying to get off the plate.
Plates. Zest remembered plates.
“I thought you said lobsters were cold-blooded!” Zest complained.
“These ones aren’t.” Sugarcoat quickly froze hers.
Zest sniffed it again. Sure enough, their warmth tickled that itch.
“Yeah! It’s the super-radiation.” Indigo froze her lobster next. “It’s like how radiation only makes cockroaches stronger. Well, lobsters are just the cockroaches of the sea. I guess being warm-blooded counts as stronger.”
Sometimes, Zest felt disturbed at how quickly she became willing to eat animals. Zest didn’t feel bad about what she had to do at all now. A second later, the lobster was frozen solid, and the sweet relief of body heat washed over Zest.
Zest decided she liked these more than turkeys. Though with no ocean around, it’d be hard to keep a stock of them.
Then they moved on to the main course. Body heat helped with the addiction, but it wasn’t as filling as something exceptionally hot.
Finally, Zest would get to try an artesian fire made by a ghost chef! Had Zest even had good food before? She was about to find out.
The chef handed them their menus. Zest was a little disappointed to see it was only three pages. Even she could make a longer list living out in the woods.
She could feel a little surprise from the rest of her fraid, so this wasn’t normal. Soon she noticed that the guy was holding out on them! She saw a stack of much thicker menus sitting not too far away.
“What do we gotta do to use the good menu?” Zest asked him, pointing at it.
“I apologize for the reduced options.” He bowed his head. “The way things have been going, we’ve had a lot of shortages recently. There aren’t any other cities to trade with. All the smaller ghost settlements have vanished one way or another. Predeads talk to us less without the Spectral Federation. Certain ingredients are no longer obtainable.”
Disappointing! Zest wished she’d died a few years earlier.
Zest looked over what selection she did have, slowly realizing she had no idea what any of this tasted like. She knew what garlic was, but not what burning garlic would taste like. It wasn’t like she’d even know what to pick if she had the full menu. Maybe it didn’t matter, on second thought.
She decided to copy one of the other ghosts. Indigo would likely order the most exciting choice.
A sudden shock hit Zest through the aura waves, causing her to zip up a few centimeters and make a few hairs stand on end. It was like the shock of suddenly seeing a spider. The others sat at attention, clearly feeling it but not reacting as strongly. The chef alone paid it no heed.
She did, at least, give herself points for recognizing the feeling. That was a specter pulsing their aura in a particular way, the ghost equivalent of the emergency broadcast system. Sugarcoat only ever did it once in demonstration.
“Emergency?” Zest looked from pony to pony until settling on the chef. He’d be the one to know. “What’s the emergency?”
“It’s no big deal,” he said. “That means an envoy from Crater Cemetery arrived.”
Now Zest was the only one to underreact. The rest of her fraid moved back from the table, taking a stance as though ready to fight right now.
“Ah, don’t worry. They’re not here to kill us or anything.” He motioned for them to calm down. “They come over here once a month to do ‘inspections’ and spout nonsense about how we should all go get brainwashed.”
“You’re seriously not bothered by having those freaks out here?” Indigo refused to settle back down. “Spouting their propaganda? After everything they’ve done?”
“If somepony is seriously stupid enough to go get brainwashed and enslaved then I say good riddance.” He shrugged, completely resigned to it. “As I said, they’re not here to fight. We have nothing to worry about down here.”
“Yet.” Indigo narrowed her eyes.
“Not ever.” The chef laughed. “Even Equestria has been forced to sign treaties with us and give us special status, you know. We’re sitting on so much toxic waste that attacking the city would be suicide. Equestria has a huge military base right on the other side of the wall for a reason. If anything ever happened to us, they’d rush in to save themselves. Crater Cemetery can’t destroy the city without going to war with Equestria… so they’ll never invade.”
Indigo’s aura radiated indignation towards this chef. Zest could feel just how delusional that statement made him seem to her. It was always hard to avoid mimicking the emotions of one’s fraid, but Zest found herself agreeing.
Sugarcoat gave Indigo a calm look and that was enough to make her go back to her seat.
“I wouldn’t feel so safe,” Sugarcoat said. “I don’t think the predeads care that much about us and you’re underestimating our enemy. She can use less destructive means.”
“At the end of the day, Old Manehattan is the safest place you can ever be,” he said. “Nopony has ever attacked the city and nopony ever will. Mark my words.”
“As if you’ll still be around to eat them,” Indigo muttered.
So that was one pony who wasn’t coming with them.
That really was the best fire Zest ever had! They needed to find somepony who could cook better to bring back with them.
The meal left Zest feeling so warm and cozy inside that she found herself singing as they made the trek to the shopping district. This would be great! Zest hadn’t gotten to go shopping with her friends since middle school.
The place glittered like a shining metropolis compared to the post-apocalyptic world Zest had come to expect. As long as you stayed on this one block, it looked like the war had never even happened. The road was completely clear of debris and potholes, all the glass was fixed up, and even the signs looked new.
The strip didn’t go on very long, but to Zest she might as well have been in the largest mall in the world! Just about everything a ghost could want was sold down here. Sugarcoat mostly bought seeds and books, Zest putting the latter on the list of things to come back to. When you were limited to only books other ponies threw away, you didn’t always get the best.
From the sound of things, and the sight of a few empty stores, this place had been hit by shortages, too. Even still, Zest found a store that sold all kinds of wood carvings. She nearly blew a ton of money on some cute little monster toys. But then she remembered she was trying to be mature and restrained herself till she saw what else there was.
Then they got to an orb store.
“Why would you buy an orb?” Zest looked up at the ‘Orb R Us’ sign, complete with an orb sporting googly eyes. “I can find one in ten seconds back home.”
“There are rare types of orbs.” Sugarcoat went inside.
Upon following her, Zest remembered what Sugarcoat meant. They found themselves in a warehouse with at least a hundred orbs floating about. None of these were the common orbs that had become background noise at this point.
Zest could guess the names of a few after reading Ponin’s Spirit Guide.
The rumbling orb made an audible hum as it shook violently in place. These could be made to explode! The greater orb was twice the size of Zest and could lift much heavier objects than a normal orb. The purple gloom orb sucked the light out of rooms, making them darker and easier to see in.
The main one Sugarcoat wanted was a void orb, though. This orb appeared to be perpetually collapsing in on itself, forming long strands of light. According to Sugarcoat, it could hold objects in a small pocket dimension, allowing it to carry physical objects through walls. Though it couldn’t hold anything too large, sadly.
She bought one of these and two of the gloom orbs. As she was making the purchase, Zest leaned over the counter.
“Hey, orb lady!” Zest called to her. “You wanna come to the north with us to escape the inevitable destruction of the city?"
"I don’t see the point.” The merchant looked at her with supremely bored eyes… the eyes of a retail worker. “We already lost. We’re all gonna die or worse no matter what we do. Might as well die here where I still have some luxury in the meantime.”
“Ouch.” Zest backed off. She found the other end of the spectrum.
“Yeah, there’s nothing to be done at this point but accept our grim reality and face the fact that we’re all doomed and there’s nothing we can do.” The merchant stamped the receipt. “I don’t know what fantasy the three of you have, but whatever you’re doing is pointless.”
Hopefully, they could find somepony in the middle of the hope-despair continuum next. Otherwise, this wasn’t going to be easy. At least they technically left the store with more ghosts, albeit lesser ones.
Zest caught herself looking around for a clothing store next, only to remember her immunity to clothes. But she did find a jewelry shop of all things. Maybe she couldn’t wear the jewelry, but she could still look at it and pretend!
So Zest crossed the street to look over the stand of expensive items. A feeling of dread crept down her spine just as she began. The air felt heavier, the auras tenser. Sugarcoat kept her head down and her ears up, turning to look down the street.
Just as the feeling struck, her eyes settled on a golden necklace with a red gemstone inside it. It looked familiar…
“Wait.” Zest grabbed Sugarcoat. “This is the one I threw in the river! Sugarcoat, it’s part of that wight! What do we do?”
Sugarcoat looked back at her.
“Obviously, we’re not buying it,” she said. “It’s just as well we leave it here. It’ll find its way out of wherever we put it. You’ll likely see it again.”
Sugarcoat turned her head again.
So the wight was still following her around? If all the pieces got back together they’d have to fight it again.
The gemstone made all sense of safety flee from Zest. She felt empty and alone. She didn’t remember it having this effect on her last time.
“You know that necklace is part of a wight, right?” Zest couldn’t muster a convincing smile for the phantom running the booth, not with how heavy the air had become.
Instead of responding, he merely pointed to the label on the bin that read ‘cursed gemstones’.
With embarrassment to add to the list, Zest backed up to her friends, hoping the closeness would give her some comfort. “Does anypony else feel this thing in their aura?”
Sugarcoat hushed her and put out a foreleg to keep her in place.
Zest turned to look down the same street Sugarcoat did. She blinked, realizing that it wasn’t the necklace having that effect on her after all.
Two pegasi, one pink and one blue stood up on a pedestal giving a speech at the center of the shopping district. Zest could tell without looking both were ghosts, yet they looked alive. Both had physical bodies. From a distance, at least, they looked like normal predeads.
More importantly, she could see those blackened chains wrapped around the two of them. She once again recognized the same sickly wind when she strayed too far from Sugarcoat blowing through her aura.
These were the envoys the emergency alert system warned her about.
“Our mistress asks only for your supreme loyalty and love,” said the pink one. “In exchange for this, we will finally be able to overthrow the oppression of the predeads! She will bring about an age of darkness and cold in which ghosts alone reign supreme. You are the ones shackled by the world created by the living and–”
As promised, they were spouting what Zest could comfortably dismiss as propaganda. Most everypony did their best to just ignore these two. Part of their treaty meant they had to put up with these Crater Cemetery goons giving these speeches, she’d heard.
“Let’s come back later.” Sugarcoat gathered her fancy new orbs and started to leave.
“Wait, are those two… alive?” Zest squinted and moved a bit closer.
“We’re not talking to them,” Sugarcoat’s voice was even sterner than usual. She grabbed Zest to pull her back. “I forbid you to even go near those two. I don’t want you going off on your own at all as long as they’re around.”
Zest nodded. She didn’t need to be told it would be a terrible idea. Even if she knew nothing about Crater Cemetery, the feeling of dread radiating off those chains would have been enough for her to distrust them.
“But they look like predeads,” Zest whispered, staying close this time.
“Those are dolls they’re possessing,” said Sugarcoat. “Everypony in their family does that.”
“You recognize those two?” Indigo asked.
“Aria Blaze and Sonata Dusk,” Sugarcoat named them. “Our enemy forces them to act like assassins.”
“Assassins?” Zest suddenly found concern to take this more seriously. Though surely nopony would be sending assassins after her, specifically.
“Lest you think they believe any of the things in that speech they’re being forced to do,” said Sugarcoat, “I know for a fact they’d turn against Crater Cemetery the second they were able to. Their family was always against her. They certainly have a history.”
“Which family is this again?” Indigo asked.
“The Sleep Sirens?” Sugarcoat waited for recognition that never came. “I suppose it was before your time. They were part of a small cult that worshiped Golden Feather’s sister and had something of a ghost-supremacist attitude. They were infamous among ghosts for some time. They knew things they wouldn’t tell the rest of us.”
“Things you say?” Zest moved closer.
“Think about this for a second.” Sugarcoat broke her own rule to glance back at them. “There were three of them, three biological sisters. A ghost of a chance is one in ten thousand. Yet all three of them became banshees after they died.”
“The chances of that–” Zest’s eyes widened.
“One in a trillion,” said Sugarcoat. “And it gets stranger. Every member of their family for generations has become a high ghost. That includes those who marry into it, lest you think this is genetic.”
“So that means there’s a way to guarantee you become a ghost when you die. And those two know about it?! But that’s huge!”
Zest turned around to try and look back. Sugarcoat grabbed Zest and turned her around.
“They won’t talk.” Sugarcoat shook her head. “Even before all of this began. Even when they were actively against our enemy. They were always a secretive group.”
“But if we can free them from the mind control?” Zest asked.
“Death is the only way we know of,” said Sugarcoat. “Though it would certainly be useful.”
So a series of dominoes began setting up in her mind. Find a non-lethal way to free a high ghost, then get them to talk! Probably not as easy as it sounded, but having any path to take
“Hey.” An unfamiliar voice made Zest flinch.
She looked to see the phantom from the jewelry shop beckoning them to come back just a little.
“Are you interested in the Sleep Sirens?” He asked. He turned to look back at Aria and Sonata through narrow eyes. “I can give you a tip. Somepony here knows a lot about that family. Though it won’t be easy to get him to talk.”
Indigo and Sugarcoat shared a glance.
“Who is this pony, again?” Indigo asked.
“Puppet Troupe?” He looked to see if they recognized the name. “He’s the one who made those dolls for them. For everypony in that family. I doubt you’ll manage, but if you can beat any intel out of that guy it’d be great.”
“Oh, the creepy guy!” Indigo’s face lit up. “Yeah, I remember him now. We gotta go over there, either way! The dollmaker’s house is one of the places we’ve got to visit!”
Indigo turned to Sugarcoat, eager.
“I’m suspicious about these two, specifically, being here.” Sugarcoat adjusted her glasses. “I want to talk to meltdown about it.”
“Well maybe the two of us can head over there ourselves then.” Indigo grabbed Zest. “You know, while you go do your boring stuff.”
“I suppose that’s acceptable.” Sugarcoat turned to Zest. “Though I don’t want you wandering off on your own.”
“Yeah, yeah. I got it, Mom.” Zest gripped her headphones.
And soon enough, Zest found herself being dragged off yet again.
Indigo brought Zest to a patch of shore where they found a beached battleship. Signs of ex-battleships littered the shore as well, but this one seemed nearly unscathed. Perhaps it got abandoned during the meltdown period.
“And here we got the creepiest place in Old Manehattan.” Indigo stopped just short of its hull. “The dollmaker’s house! I think this is the only one left in Equestria now!”
“Dollmaker?” Zest looked up at the sign draped over the ship’s cannon. It promised ‘dolls and puppets’ just as Indigo said.
Indigo darted through that useless armor without elaborating further. Zest was left alone to wonder how this would be any different from all the dolls and toys she saw back in the shopping district. With no other option, she flew inside as well.
In a cramped, metal room, Zest got her answer. They were the too-realistic kind of creepy, to the point Zest thought she’d entered into a room with actual predeads for a second. About twelve ponies simply sat there, totally motionless, in two rows. All of their eyes were wide open as they stared lifelessly at the opposite row with big smiles.
Zest floated up to one, hoping a closer look would give some flaw with the dolls. Yet they were perfect. Even the eyes… there was nothing glassy about them. They looked like actual eyeballs! The thought made Zest shudder.
The stillness and lack of body heat alone gave away their true nature. As if wanting to challenge this notion, a handsome, dark blue stallion she was inspecting blinked. His face twisted into motion and his smile moved from one kind of creepy to another.
Zest yelped and flew behind Indigo as the phantom laughed at her. Soon that stallion hopped off the chair and walked towards Zest. Now it looked exactly as if a predead was in the room with them.
She sniffed the air. No body heat confirmed it wasn’t a living pony. An aura coming from within clued her in on the truth – this was merely a ghost possessing the doll.
“Do you like my dolls?” The dollmaker, Zest presumed, asked her. “I am Puppet Troupe, though I assume you already knew that. It’s rare for somepony to come here without hearing about me first.”
“Heh! I’m impressed at how lifelike they are.” Zest smiled but kept her ears down. Never thought she’d be relieved to find out it was only a ghost possessing a doll.
“I believe the art of their creation has dwindled to but two of us. This is the most realistic body a ghost can possess.” Troupe caressed the cheek of his current doll. “You have tactile feelings inside things in one of these. Even a faint sense of your old taste returns to you.”
He opened his mouth to reveal a tongue, complete with the little ridges. Zest cringed at the sight of the inside of his mouth. It looked exactly as it should, with teeth and everything. A doll should never have teeth.
“But they aren’t cheap.” Troupe snapped his mouth shut. He sat down next to one of his other puppets and began petting its back in slow strokes. “Sixty thousand and you can pick any on display here. Or you can rent for a hundred bits a day.”
Zest could afford to rent one, at least. It’s been so long since she had her old senses, she’d imagine they’d be alien to her now. The chance to experience them again, even if only partially, excited her.
She looked over the dolls, thinking about which one she’d pick. One mare, in particular, caught her attention, a white unicorn with stunning, long blue hair.
That cute little muzzle, those fluffy ears, those big hips, that vibrant fur. Any mare with the money would pay to have a body like that! Zest could potentially look that cute for about a hundred bits a day. The initial shock of seeing dolls like this had already worn its course and Zest was increasingly drawn to the thought of trying one out.
The only thing keeping this place creepy was Puppet Troupe himself. He’d since grabbed the head of another mare and bobbed it up and down as he hummed. He was the type of stallion who still played with dolls.
“Actually,” Indigo interrupted. “We wanted to ask you some questions.”
“Oh what?” He stopped dopped his doll and frowned at Indigo. “Is it about the Sleep Sirens or did you want me to teach you my art? Those are the only two things anyone ever seems to want to talk to me about.”
Zest could believe it.
“Uh. First one.”
“I’ll tell you what I tell everypony else then,” the little bit of flamboyance his voice carried before was gone now. “All three of those sisters died of asphyxiation. They knew in advance they would become ghosts and came to me about making dolls for them while still alive. They were the last three members of the cult of the night feather, which is mythologically associated with Golden Feather’s sister. That’s all I’m going to say.”
How would he know how they died?
“But is that all you know?” Indigo asked.
“Well of course not.” He smirked.
“Come on, guy.” Indigo’s wings started to ruffle. “We’re on the same side. Stop being mysterious for no reason.”
“Yes, we have the same enemy. But are we really on the same side? I wonder.” Troupe hummed to himself. “Think of it this way. If you were on a sinking ship and knew where the only lifeboat was, telling everypony its location would be a liability, hm? They’d all crowd around and sink it. You knowing this information could be a liability to me and put certain other ponies in danger. I can only speak in full to those I know to be worthy, who won’t tip the boat so to speak.”
Prove herself worthy? Zest doubted she had the combat skills to do anything remotely close to that.
“Of course, if you can convince me knowing what I do would in any way harm the forces of Crater Cemetery I’d also change my mind,” he added.
How the heck was Zest supposed to prove she was some great hope against Crater Cemetery? In a movie, this was where the hero would give a big speech, but Zest couldn’t do anything like that.
There had to be something. What hope did Zest have again?
Sunny Flare!
“Should we mention Flare?” Zest asked Indigo, remembering to be more careful.
Indigo thought for a moment. She’d be able to phrase it more sensitively.
“We have connections to somepony researching ghosts,” said Indigo. “They’re better able to study ghosts than any predead before them. Would they be able to use what you know?”
“I think not.” He shook his head.
There went that plan!
“Then what would?” Zest asked.
“Hm.” Troupe turned his muzzle upwards in faux consideration. “Well the offer I make to everypony else applies to you as well, I suppose. If you can tell me the name of our enemy, I’ll consider you to have met the minimum threshold. Yes, I think that’s just challenging enough to prove yourselves.”
“That means you know their name?!” Indigo rushed forward, wings spread wide. “And you’re not going to tell us?!”
“You have my offer.” Troupe gingerly placed a hoof on Indigo’s muzzle and pushed her back. That was how Zest learned a possessed doll could touch a ghost.
“Yeah, great.” Indigo folded her forelegs. “’Figure everything out yourself and then I’ll help you’. How amazing.”
“Aren’t you already in danger?” Zest asked. “The enemy has assassins in the city right now. You could die at any second! Maybe you should help us before then?”
“I have my own escape plans,” he said. “I plan only to linger here a moment longer.”
“Guh! This guy’s the worst type of pony!” Indigo turned her back on him, shaking her head with disgust. “Let’s get out of here.”
She turned to leave.”
“Hold on.” Zest grabbed her tail. “He still makes really cool stuff. I wanna try one of these.”
Indigo snickered like she just remembered a funny joke.
“Oh, yeah.” Indigo turned back to him. “Hey, isn’t there a way we can get one of these dolls for cheaper?”
“Well, most of the price comes from finding a suitable body.” Troupe tilted his head. “If you bring me a usable corpse, I’ll convert it into a puppet for just ten thousand bits.”
“What?” Zest blinked.
She glanced over at Indigo, barely containing her laughter at some hidden prank, some joke Zest was on the cusp of getting.
Then it all clicked. Zest’s eye twitched. She scanned the rows of perfectly lifelike dolls on either side of her. She stared forward blankly at the dollmaker, smiling with those realistic teeth. Those real teeth.
“Oh, my.” He clasped his forehooves together. “Was there some misunderstanding? You see, I’m actually a taxidermist.”
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Indigo held her hooves and ducked down as Zest repeatedly pelted her.
Zest chased Indigo right out of there with soft blows to the back. Finally, she caught up and tackled Indigo, gnawing on her ear and growling.
“Owe! Look, this is just a rite of passage thing, okay?” Indigo stopped struggling and accepted her ear-chewing as punishment. “I didn’t know it’d freak you out this much!”
Zest let go of Indigo, letting the anger radiating from her aura tell the phantom this joke was not okay. But then again, there was no way Indigo could have known about her personal trauma. It probably seemed far less cruel to her.
“Fine.” Zest puffed her cheek out. “But I’m still angry at you. You better not try to ‘surprise’ me again.”
Indigo apologized a few more times as they continued forward, but Zest wasn’t listening. Images flashed into Zest’s mind that she quickly dismissed.
Everything was fine now! Zest was okay. Everything was okay.
“You alright?” Indigo tilted her head, no longer smiling in the least. “You’re way more shaken than ponies normally get about that.”
“It’s nothing.” Zest turned her head away.
“You sure you don’t want to talk about anything?” Indigo floated by on her side.
Zest shook her head too hard to convince anypony, but Indigo mercifully dropped it after that.
“Well if you still feel like it the last place to visit is that gigantic wall.” Indigo pointed up. “Maybe we can save that for tomorrow, on second thought. We’d probably get into a fight with those turtles.”
“No, I’m up to it.”
“I’m kinda tired.” Indigo’s smile was too weak.
“I know what you’re doing and I’m fine.” Zest zipped ahead of her, forgetting for a moment she had no idea where to go. “I’d rather end the day with something else.”
“If you say so. But I did warn you this time.”
Indigo led them as far south as they could go. Yet Zest couldn’t see the wall in question until they were close up.
They came around one final block and at last Zest saw the wall on the other side of a large field punctuated only by rubble. It stood not as one monolithic slab of lead, but as a series of thick sheets, all bolted to the unseen stone beneath.
She’d certainly believe it to be the world’s tallest wall. Indigo told her it was one hundred eighty feet tall, which she believed translated to almost sixty meters. From this angle and this distance, not one building from new Manehattan could be seen despite their towering height.
Atop the wall, Zest found plenty of signs of life. She could smell the heartbeats of living ponies.
Thin, metallic spires rose an additional ten or so meters above the wall along its length. One particular spire rose twice as high as the others and at its top rested an object glowing too brightly purple for Zest to make it out.
Her mind defaulted to thinking of these as weapons to use against herself. Perhaps the suggestion came from lookout stations hanging off the walls at even less frequent intervals. Though from her personal experience, a series of UV lamps would have been a better deterrence than a wall.
“They realize we can all fly, right?” Zest squinted up at it. “And go through or under the wall besides?”
“It’s really more to contain the pollution than us,” said Indigo. “See those trenches up there?”
A trench was dug around the base of the wall served to make its height even more imposing. She could tell from all the drains nearby that this existed more as a way to contain the rainwater than as some half-assed attempt to trap ghosts.
Indigo led them fearlessly into the open field where the advantage of the ponies on the wall would be infinite. Soon after, they arrived at the infamous ‘line’, painted yellow in parallel with the wall itself. Signs posted every ten meters bore the symbol of a skull and a warning that anypony who crossed the line would die.
And without a care in the world, Indigo floated over the line.
“What happened to the no crossing the line rule?!” Zest gasped.
“Nah, that’s the yellow line.” Indigo floated higher and pointed down. “You can’t cross the red line. And we’re legally allowed to kill any predead that crosses the yellow line. The place between the two lines is where anypony can go.”
Zest came to the very edge of the yellow line and flew higher. She didn’t dare cross it until she saw the red line herself. It felt like she was trying to jump into a cold pool all of a sudden. Zest braced herself and took the plunge.
And nothing bad happened! Zest laughed a little from the relief.
“In fact, well I wouldn’t recommend this, but you can go past the red line even.” Indigo laughed. “They just turn on the alarms and start shouting. But they won’t actually shoot until you get up to that trench down there.”
No way Zest was going over the red line. Her nerves were already maxed out for the day. Still, she was curious about how deep that trench went. Unable to get any closer, Zest instead flew up high.
A blaring noise came from the speakers, harsh enough to force Zest to cover her ears, or at least attempt to through the headphones.
“Attention! You are in violation of the treaty of Industrial Square. No ghosts are allowed past the line! We will open fire if you attempt to cross!”
Zest screamed and darted away from the wall and underground. She expected them to start shooting at that.
“I didn’t cross the line!” Zest complained to her senior, covering her eyes.
Indigo huffed up at the wall. Zest could feel the swell of anger in her.
“They’re just trying to scare you.” Indigo waved her hoof. “They won’t do anything. We call them turtles for a reason, you know? Heh. The lieutenant in charge of the wall is literally named Snapping Turtle. I ain’t gonna let them harass you like that. Come on.”
“Come where?” Zest kept no more than her head above ground just to be safe.
Indigo headed to a small shack Zest had dismissed earlier. Glancing over her shoulder, Zest realized there were a number of these stations throughout the neutral zone.
Desperate not to be left behind, Zest rushed after Indigo.
The tiny building housed a single, barren room. It would have been completely unremarkable was it not for the one object it housed– a phone mounted on the wall.
“Wait! A phone? They have a phone?!” Zest gawked at the borderline mythical object.
Indigo took the phone off the hook. Zest pressed her head close against the other ghosts’ to listen. She didn’t need to talk to an operator, the phone rang as soon as she picked it up. It must have only been connected to the military base.
“Why don’t we have a phone?” Zest complained. “Why doesn’t every ghost have a phone? We could talk to Maple Hill and–”
“Cause that’s not how things work, you worm.” Indigo flicked her tail.
“What do you mean?”
“Guh!” Indigo winced. “It’s like–”
“What is it?” A female voice said on the other end. Both ghosts leaned in.
“We didn’t cross the line, bitch!” Indigo shouted at her.
Zest staggered back. That was farther than she’d wanted to go.
“Maybe we shouldn’t use the B-word against the ponies with the giant military installation!” Zest hissed at Indigo.
“No worries!” Indigo laughed. “Cursing out these turtles is the most fun you can have for free in Manehattan. They’re under strict orders not to fire unless we cross the line. Don’t wanna stir up the dirt, you know?”
Zest came back to the phone. Maybe Indigo had taken the other pony aback with her rudeness? She hadn’t responded yet. She heard the mare clearing her throat.
“Well keep not crossing the line,” said the voice. “This line is for emergency purposes and diplomats only.”
“Yeah! And the loudspeaker is for yelling at ponies who break the rules. We can do whatever we want in the neutral strip. Don’t scare some poor worm like that for no reason.”
“If you have a problem with how I run things, talk to your superior. I’m willing to talk to your representative, but not some random ghost. I don’t think you even live here. I don’t recognize you two.”
So she could tell.
“I represent myself,” said Indigo. “And you don’t get to just harass one of my friends like that without getting any in return. I ain’t gonna let some turtle hiding in her little shell give us crap.”
“Oh. You don’t think I’ll come down there?” The mare yelled back at them.
“Heh.” Indigo turned to Zest with a smirk. “She totally won’t.”
Multiple unicorns teleported in at once with perfect synchronization. In a flash of purple light, Zest found herself nearly surrounded by predeads. Two stallions to her left, two mares to her right, and finally, standing much closer, one more mare right in front of them. Every one of them had a battle staff out, thankfully pointed down rather than at the ghosts. Only her backside, her path back to Old Manehattan, was unblocked.
They wore heavy hazmat suits, the kind Zest had only ever seen in comic books, with thick helmets and enormous tubes that went to air canisters on their backs. Though only a thin sheet of glass made their eyes visible. Zest could tell their genders by muzzle length alone.
The pony who stood the closest had a different insignia on her suit than the others – a golden horseshoe with a single vertical line through it. Indigo talked about the Equestrian military a good deal, so Zest knew this marked her as a chief lieutenant.
Zest could see little through the protective gear. Through the visor of the lieutenant, she saw the suggestion of a yellow, heavily freckled face.
Already, Zest could piece together that the ‘Snapping Turtle’ Indigo mentioned had been replaced by a much younger commander.
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Sour Sweet makes her first appearance, it seems. And it's looking more and more likely that the ghost of crater cemetery is Nightmare Moon. Whether that means she's also luna is something i'm very interested in.
PS: scenes between sugarcoat and zest were super cute.
That's a good line
...but if you do that won't you all die/fade from hunger since you need heat to survive?
Interesting
Who was Golden Feather's sister I wonder?
The deleted scene is worth reading too
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Oh, yeah. There's a bonus scene here for people who don't read the author's notes but do read the comments.
https://ponepaste.org/7423
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She's been mentioned but not named.
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They already mention the name of the ghost of Crater Cementary... I mean if you haven't read the main story.
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Wait did they?
That was a mistake on my part if it happened, but ctrl+f doesn't give any matches for her name in either story.
I really loved the Sugarcoat and Zest scenes. Mom!!!!!!!!!!! Figure!!!!!!!!!!
Always very happy to get a few crumbs of Zest's backstory, now with added bits of Sugarcoat's. Same thing as Crater Cemetery's name, a puzzle that has me keep coming back. So looking forward to puzzling it out.
It's always a bit odd in stories with characters who don't look their ages interacting with each other. Sugarcoat is simultaneously centuries older than Zest (in knowledge) and the same age (both in crystal prep in Equestria girls), so it's both friendship and a maternal relationship. Intergenerational friendship. It's executed well here, because it actually feels like they like each other. Indigo's teasing feels sisterly too. Found family trope.
I genuinely didn't notice anything odd about all three sirens being ghosts until now. I think I didn't give it any thought at all, but if I did I must have just assumed they had met up after death and called themselves sisters, or all died in one go. A family passing on the secret of ghost-hood seems like it could end up a political power in Witch in Broad Daylight, assuming that being so close to Crater Cemetery wouldn't wipe out any advantages by making any newly-ghost relatives go with them. After losing all three sirens, you'd expect the family members to make sure they died far away.It also assumes the ghosts like their family, and that nobody else took them out, which, given that Zest hasn't heard of them, seems likely. I'll be keeping an eye out for living relatives there anyway. Like Sugarcoat's earlier familiarity with radiation, I suspect this is foreshadowing of something important.
That the Sirens originally worshiped Luna (Golden Feather's sister) strikes me as evidence Nightmare Moon probably isn't Crater Cemetery. That feels too obvious, like it's a bluff. The chains and meteor make it seem really likely it's Nightmare Moon, but it seems too obvious. This convinces me even further, because "the weird cult that worshiped Luna hated this girl intensely even though she seems like she's going to make ghosts (in total) more powerful, which they want" doesn't seem like it lines up with her being anything to do with Luna. If it's monster-that-possessed-Luna Nightmare it lines up, but it still feels too obvious for me to believe it. It might be a double bluff though. I might be too attached to this being a shocking twist instead of something that makes sense. Alternatively, it might be Daybreaker mocking Nightmare Moon by stealing her style. If creating ScootEleven and her sibling sent them both over the edge either could have been thrown down to Equestria after losing the fight, or chosen to come to Equestria after winning.
I could try to predict for hours and get nowhere. My efforts to guess are fruitless without further knowledge. I must wait.
Have to ask, warmblooded lobsters? That must be some crazy strong radiation. Also, I am both excited by the new character's appearance and want to slap Indigo for mouthing off to a bunch of nervous, heavily armed predeads while Zest is next to her. Gambling her own life is fine, gambling Zest's is bad.
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Well that was the super-radiation. The kind that can give you superpowers.
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Who is sour sweet?
You shouldve included that little snippet, I really liked it. I'm in love with the depth of the story anyways, and itd fit right in.
Writing checks your body can't cash...
Heh. Some lovely family moments with both Momma Sugarcoat and cool, irresponsible Big Sister Indigo. And some reminders that it’s not all warm fuzzies, what with the sirens proselytizing and Puppet’s grim business. To say nothing of the local cops…
Well, we’ll see what happens soon enough.
I remember Pinkie said that super-radiation makes ghosts stronger:
Several very interesting things this chapter, and one from last chapter.
First, I feel like the implication all along has been that the ghosts lost in the fight against Crater Cemetery are gone forever, but how many of them were actually destroyed versus just chained up? The free ghost community may simply be assuming they are gone forever when they actually might all be recoverable with the right effort (presumably by Twilight and company later on, aka maybe mostly just by Pinkie). Is Sugarcoat's husband still out there somewhere? Also, very interesting that she was married as a ghost.
Second, the Sirens being blood sisters that are from a family with secret ghost creation knowledge answers some questions I had started to have. I had been guessing a found family sort of situation, but nope not in this case. Also, considering that the puppeteer knew the condition of their corpses, are their dolls made out of their original bodies?
Lastly, I'm curious to eventually find out that Zap is asking the right questions and the Crater Cemetery ghost might not be a mare.
Aw, the mom scene is cute. And the pony taxidermy was significantly less so. I'd say that breaks even.
The deleted scene is worth reading. I like a good bit of extra lore exposition.
Actually Lobsters are the scorpions of the sea.
Still don't know why you didn't put that end bit in there. I really liked it.
Ah! they made me water