Whispers in the Whitetail Woods Part Two: The Beast
A flash of light filled the examination room of the Golden Oaks University History Department, briefly illuminating the carved wooden idol perched on the table.
“This idol is…certainly fascinating,” Dean Blotting Paper mused, looking trepidatiously at the strange little statuette on the table. “And it was in a box in a hidden compartment in the monastery floor?”
“Sí, señora,” Caballeron answered, adjusting the camera in between shots. “With this blank parchment with it.”
The snow-maned jenny frowned at the unfurled yellowed parchment laying on the table, its blank surface taunting them all. Her eyes then flickered to the box, her frown deepening into creases of worry at the sight of the blasphemous carvings on the surface. “An…unusual set of artifacts, to be sure.”
“I think I see why the Sisters were so eager to get it out of there,” Daring admitted from the desk behind Caballeron, pen scratching away at the paperwork before her. Despite trying to focus on the documents, she kept glancing up at the statuette every few seconds; the tiny, smirking eyes seemed to be staring at her.
“There are similar statues in the Sunken Church,” Blotting Paper frowned, giving the pith helmet on the desk a small disapproving glance before returning her focus to the artifact. “I understand that you’ve been researching this…thing.”
“Indeed,” Caballeron replied. “With the gracious help of Señorita Dawn.” He nodded towards the pink unicorn that was currently holding a measuring stick next to the idol with her magic.
“Oh, I’ve mostly just helped with chasing down citations and sorting notes,” Luster Dawn admitted sheepishly, blushing at the compliment. “Professor Do and Professor Caballeron did most of the work.”
“It started with discovering the creature’s name,” Caballeron stated, taking another photograph of the statuette. “It is called an ahuizotl.”
A gust of wind buffeted against the laboratory window; the temperature in the room seemed to plunge for a moment, sending shivers down the spines of the four ponies.
“Ahuizotl,” Blotting Paper repeated quietly, taking a step back from the tiny idol.
“We learned it from translating the inscriptions on the walls of the Sunken Temple,” Daring explained. “The writing was in ancient Mareabic, but it didn’t translate into anything meaningful until we realized that it was being used to phonetically write another language: Neighuatl, which was spoken by ancient cultures in the Southern Jungles. There was one phrase that was said over and over again: ‘Micca Ahuizotl chixtoc temiqui.’”
“Which means?” Dean Paper asked, taking another seemingly involuntary step back.
“‘Dead Ahuizotl waits dreaming,’” Daring Do translated.
“There aren’t a lot of extant legends about the ahuizotl race,” Luster said, carefully turning the statuette around so that it was facing out the window, looking out into the gray-clouded quad. “Most of the legends come from the Southern Jungle tribes, and there are a lot of gaps; it’s like some ponies put a lot of work into repressing and erasing those stories. It was thought for a while that they were gods, but some later evidence suggests that the ahuizotl were actually priests of greater gods.
“And they probably weren’t good ones,” she added, moving out of the frame so Caballeron could take another snap. “The Southern Jungle tribesponies were, by and large, absolutely terrified of the ahuizotl, but they seemed to depend on them for their magic. Their writing mentions a lot of ‘profane rituals,’ but doesn’t go into detail beyond mentioning pony sacrifices.”
“Interesting,” Blotting Paper noted. She remained silent while Caballeron took the final photograph. “What do you intend to do now?”
“Look more into this parchment,” Daring said, nodding at the blank scrap.
“Why would they bother to hide a blank piece of paper?” Luster wondered aloud.
“Most likely because it is not blank,” Caballeron posited. “Perhaps the message is written with invisible ink. We will ask for Doctor Suunkii’s help analyzing it.”
“And I’ll grab any references to the monastery I can find,” Luster added. “Might be useful later.”
“Very well. Carry on, then,” Blotting Paper nodded. She took one last look at the idol, then turned and made a hasty departure down the hall.
“Luster, please place the idol on its side so I can photograph the bottom,” Caballeron asked.
“Yes, Doctor,” Luster said, tilting the idol over to reveal the bottom.
“Ay, what is this?” Caballeron remarked upon studying the bottom of the statue.
Daring Do turned to look and quickly spotted what had grabbed her comrade’s attention. Carefully embossed into the bottom of the idol’s perch was a small but distinct swirling hieroglyph in silver, looking rather like a crescent moon turned to face down with a teardrop falling from it.
“It appears to have been carved into the wood and filled with silver,” Caballeron commented, inspecting the inset with a magnifying glass. “But for what purpose? Perhaps it is hollow?” He shook and twisted the base of the effigy for a few minutes, then sighed and gave up.
Daring shook her head. “It might be worth trying to figure out if that symbol means anything,” she suggested.
“Muy bien,” an abashed Caballeron admitted, returning to the camera. He took the last photograph and nodded. “Excelente, that’s all we needed. Luster, would you be so good as–?”
“I’ll take care of developing the negatives and finish the sketches before I head to the library,” Luster answered, already hard at work completing a detailed sketch of the ahuizotl effigy, marking down measurements and scrawling notes in the margins.
“Excelente. Just don’t overwork yourself, amiga; you need time to sleep!” Caballeron cautioned with a grin.
“I know what my limits are, Doctor Caballeron. I’m fine,” Luster Dawn assured him with a smile of her own.
“Luster, really, you’re a junior,” Daring put in. “We appreciate you volunteering to help out, but we’re worried you might be stretching yourself too thin. You’ve got your own classes and your own life to deal with, too.”
“I know, I can handle it,” Luster replied, putting the final touches on her sketch. “Besides, it’s exciting, being allowed to help you two; part of my studies into the history of magic is on how mythologies and religions have affected magical abilities, and I’m thinking I want to do my senior thesis on that.”
“Really?” Daring asked.
“I’ve always wanted to study magical history, ever since I started reading the Compass Rose series!” Luster exclaimed. “I’ve been reading those books since I was eight years old!”
“That long, really?” Daring asked, turning away to hide an expression that was somewhere between a smile and a grimace. Holy shit, I am old.
She caught a glimpse of Caballeron sniggering and shot him a brief “shut up” glare before turning back to Luster. “Okay, if you’re sure.”
“I’ll let you know how I get on,” Luster said, exiting with her sketch and the film from the camera.
Caballeron glanced over at Daring as she finished up the paperwork on the new artifacts. “I notice that you didn’t mention the intruder, nor the sample of the powder that you took,” he commented quietly.
“You know how Blotting Paper is,” Daring said, noting the lack of disapproval in Caballeron’s tone. “She’d freak out and pull the plug on this and get the police even more involved and shit. What she doesn’t know can’t hurt us, right?”
“Es verdad,” Caballeron admitted, placing the ahuizotl effigy into a fireproof box and locking it tightly, then scrawling a label on it. “Well, we are not gaining anything by waiting here. Shall we visit Doctor Suunkii?”
“We shall,” Daring replied, placing her pith helmet back on her head, rolling the vellum up, and replacing it in its holder. She patted her pocket to make sure that the packet with the strange drug was still inside, then led the way out of the examination room, Caballeron turning out the lights and locking the door behind them.
Daring and Caballeron exited onto the darkening quad, an evening breeze rustling the wreaths that were hung from the lampposts, reminding all that Hearth’s Warming Eve and the end of 1955 were mere weeks away. They proceeded through the grounds, winding past the small clusters of students and staff that were making their way to dormitories or the dining hall for an early supper.
As Daring passed down the path, she could see heads turning at her approach. Gazes burned into the back of her head and whispers followed in her wake.
“That’s Professor Do–”
“–found the Sunken Church–”
“Maybe I should take her class–”
“–like something out of a Compass Rose novel!”
“They were gone all afternoon today. You think they found something–?”
Caballeron grinned at Daring. “Seems you’re making a bit of a reputation.”
Daring shifted uncomfortably. “I didn’t go out looking for some hidden underground tomb,” she said. “I just wanted to find out what happened to Family Tree.”
“And finding the legendary underground tomb was a bonus, of course,” Caballeron replied, his grin becoming rather fixed. “We’ll be excavating those catacombs for a year at least.”
“It didn’t bring Family Tree back,” Daring muttered.
Or give me any answers, Uncle Ad. Just more questions.
Caballeron sighed. “Yes…if only she had been more open about what she was doing and asked us for help.”
“If only.”
Caballeron sighed as they reached the Science Building, a utilitarian red brick three-story cube-shaped structure with arches over the glass doors. The stones forming the arches were inscribed with the names of prominent scientists throughout history; Daring had walked beneath these arches so many times that she could name them without looking.
Archineghdes, da Whinny, Neighton, Pascalt, Neighbel, she mentally recited as she followed Caballeron through the center arch, up the steps, and through the doors.
A few janitors, teachers’ assistants, and students were still meandering through the hallways, finishing up last-minute experiments or cleaning up after classes. The duo headed past the entrance and up the stairs to the second floor.
The hallway stretched out the length of the building, the polished white tile floor reflecting the glow of the ceiling lamps. Doors on either side of the hall led into large laboratories. One of them, marked Chemistry Laboratory A, had a light on inside.
As they approached, Daring heard a familiar voice inside. “No, that’s not it, Suun,” the low Aushaylian-accented voice said. “Let’s try with the iodine.”
Caballeron turned to her, eyebrows rising into his salt-and-pepper mane. “Is that…?”
“It is,” Daring said, opening the door and striding inside.
The chemistry laboratory featured several long tables with sinks and organized racks of beakers, flasks, burners, and other equipment. Microscopes were lined up against one wall counter, underneath cupboards of chemicals and materials secured with padlocks.
Two ponies were standing over one of the worktables, examining a petri dish, bottles and test tubes scattered around them. One was Phillip Finder, his gray trilby pushed back on his head. The other was a tall, husky zebra with a frizzy black mane and the cutie mark of a cauldron, wearing a wrinkled, stained lab coat and a set of goggles over his midnight blue eyes.
The two stallions turned around at the archaeologists’ entrance. “G’day, Daring,” Phillip nodded before turning his gaze to Caballeron. “And…”
“Doctor Dorado Caballeron,” Caballeron introduced himself, striding forward with an extended hoof. “Mucho gusto, Señor Finder.”
“El gusto es mio,” Finder nodded, shaking the hoof.
“So what are you doing here?” Daring asked, giving Doctor Suunkii a curious look as the zebra lifted the goggles from his eyes.
“Phillip Finder requested my assistance with a case that he is currently working on,” Doctor Suunkii replied in his mellifluously baritone voice.
“You know each other?” Daring asked.
“We were roomies in college,” Phillip explained. “Studied chemistry together.” A fond smile formed on his face. “Good times.”
“Indeed,” Suunkii replied with a similar smile, gently nudging Phillip’s flank with his own. “A strong connection forms between two stallions when they spend their Saturday afternoon collecting and studying soil samples from around Fillydelphia and Saturday night sharing the same bed.”
Phillip’s ears turned slightly red, though his smile did not fade. “Bloody oath.”
“Ha, sounds like a beautiful friendship for sure,” Daring smirked. But the rest of her commentary was cut short when she spotted the contents of the petri dish: a gritty blue-purple powder that seemed to glow faintly. Her eyes widened and she pulled the sample that she’d taken from the monastery out of her pocket.
Phillip’s eyebrows shot up into his bangs. “Where did you get that?” he and Daring said in unison.
They stared at one another for a beat, then a small chuckle escaped both of their grinning mouths. “You first,” Phillip said.
Daring narrated their expedition to the Whitetail Monastery, detailing the call that had brought them there, their discovery of the contents of the box, and the Sister warning them of the intruder watching them.
“And you took a sample without their knowing?” Suunkii said with a disapproving shake of his head.
“I’m insatiably curious,” Daring shrugged. “Besides, if I didn’t, I wouldn’t have an excuse to work with you again,” she added, wiggling her eyebrows at Phillip. He coughed and turned his focus back to the bag that she was holding out, his ears coloring a bit.
“We were hoping that you could examine this mysterious powder,” Caballeron cut in. “And this blank parchment that we found.”
“Right,” Daring said, pulling out the container and carefully extracting its contents. Suunkii cocked his head to one side and studied the parchment with a curious frown.
“Clearly this was written on with invisible ink,” he stated. “Phillip, can you continue your examination from here?”
“No wuckas,” Phillip said, taking the bag from Daring. “Will see if these are the same while I’m at it.” He took Daring’s bag and turned back to the racks of equipment.
Suunkii grasped the vellum in gloved hooves and placed it down on another workstation with great care, pulling over a lamp. He carefully studied the parchment under the light, using tweezers to tilt it from side to side.
“We shall begin with attempting to date the paper to determine it is authentic. I shall study it under alternative light sources,” he stated, pulling a lamp out of a drawer. He flicked the crystal bulb inside on, casting a dark purple glow over the vellum. Nothing appeared, even after he adjusted the lamp to cast a wide rainbow of colors upon it.
“Well, that wasn’t much help,” Caballeron grumbled.
“On the contrary, that was most informative,” Suunkii replied. “The lack of reaction is indicative of a lack of modern papermaking techniques, which is suggestive of the authenticity of this sample. Of course, we will need further proof…”
He pulled out a set of scissors and snipped off a small section from the end of the paper, drawing a cry of distress from Caballeron. “Hey, let him work, amigo,” Daring chided her companion.
Suunkii washed the section in distilled water, then cut it into smaller pieces. Half of these he stained with chemicals, then placed them upon a glass side; the other half he placed in boiling water until they started to defiber, then after a vigorous shake, he placed them under a microscope to examine.
“Let us see…” he mused, pressing his eye to one slide, then another. “Yes. Softwood not dissimilar to the types of trees found in the Whitetail Woods blended with pulp made from zea mays and triticum sativum. This paper was made with materials that could be found at the Monastery when it was active, and the apparent dating suggests that it is from the correct time period. There is certainly no evidence that this document is false.”
“Splendid,” Caballeron scoffed. “I am so glad that we wasted time we could have used to discover the writing upon this so you could inform us of the obvious.”
“Dorado!” Daring scolded. “This is important work. Can you imagine how embarrassing it would be to follow a treasure map and then realize at the end it was fake?”
Caballeron grumbled, but acquiesced. “Fine. Now let us try to reveal this parchment’s secrets.”
“Ah, here we are,” Suunkii declared, holding the parchment up to a heat lamp. Already, writing was appearing on it, a dark brown cursive.
Caballeron and Daring Do crowded close and watched as the hidden message finally revealed itself.
“‘If you are reading this, you must be a follower of the hidden truth, like we have become,’” Daring read aloud. “‘Long have we toiled to learn and decrypt the messages of the sleeping priest, listening to his messages through the dreams of the mad. He has called us to prepare for a great sermon, where he shall reveal his greatest secret: where he sleeps and waits for the call of the faithful. As I write this, we are about to undertake a final pilgrimage, to our last revelation: we will take our charges with us, as we will need their guidance. In case we do not return, I leave you with one of the four idols of our prophet. The other three idols have been hidden throughout the Whitetail Woods; look for the symbol to guide you to where we buried them. Bring all four idols back to the monastery to follow us on our final journey.
“‘Find us, friend. Find us and go where we could not.’”
Beneath the message was a small sketch of a bell tower with three small arcane symbols placed around it at seemingly random positions: half a circle with two crosses extending from the long side, three jagged lines like lightning bolts with a horizontal line bisecting them, and an uneven four-pointed star, the points all different lengths and none of the angles the same.
“So that’s probably the monastery,” Daring mused. “The symbols probably mark where the other idols are…but what’s the scale or orientation of the map? It’s no help without those.”
“Daring,” Caballeron pointed out, looking at the back of the parchment. “There is a pattern of dots on the other side of the parchment.”
Daring turned the parchment around and studied the pattern of dots. The pattern was strangely familiar.
“Hmm…” Daring Do carefully held the parchment up to the light. The pattern of dots bled through onto the front of the sheet.
“Aha!” Daring declared. “Ursa Major and Cassiopeia! That’ll show where north is!”
Caballeron grinned and rubbed his hooves in glee. “Yes, yes, ¡excelente! It’s better than I hoped; not just their Liber Bonorum Operum, but also information on the ahuizotl! We shall soon be remembered around the world, mi amiga!”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Cabbie,” Daring chided. “We don’t even know if the other three idols even exist anymore.”
“Well, we’re not going to find out playing with chemistry sets, are we?” Caballeron replied, turning on his heels. “I’ll be off performing reconnaissance. Buenas noches, Daring.”
“Dorado–” Daring started to call, but her colleague was already disappearing out the door. Daring sighed and shook her head.
“Chemistry sets?!” a red-faced Suunkii cried. “I am no child playing with toys!”
“Easy, doc, he didn’t mean it,” Daring reassured him.
With a sigh, Daring turned back to Phillip, who was frowning at the two samples of the strangely colored powder. “How are you getting along?”
“I have no bloody idea what this stuff is,” Phillip remarked. “But I do know a few things. One, your friend at the monastery was carrying the same powder I had.”
Daring’s eyebrows narrowed. “Something tells me that that’s not a coincidence,” she said. “What does it do?”
“Don’t have the foggiest; not about to inject myself with it if I don’t know what it is,” Phillip admitted, passing his notes to Suunkii.
The zebra’s anger evaporated as he examined the notes. “Interesting…this appears to be some sort of designer drug made of a mixture of organic and chemical compounds. None of these individual components are illegal, though the amphetamines are dancing on the line. The main ingredient appears to be…hmm…a pulp made of an organic compound. Perhaps a cactus?” he mused.
“And watch this,” Phillip said, holding up a device that looked like a small hoofheld metal detector with a faintly glowing disc-shaped device on the end and a gauge on the top. Phillip held the device over the sample of the drug; instantly, the gauge went all the way to the end as the disc started flashing green light, buzzing loudly.
“Full of magic,” Phil said, placing the thaumaturgic detector aside.
“Most unusual,” Doctor Suunkii frowned. “None of these identifiable components possess that level of magic in them.”
“So where did you get this?” Daring asked.
“New case,” Phillip explained. “Mare came in this morning, said that her friend had up and vanished…”
“His name is Joshua Knoll,” the young unicorn mare across from Phillip stated, passing over a photograph.
Phillip sat back on the beaten couch and studied the photograph. His client was on the left side of the picture, the turquoise unicorn beaming up at the camera lens; judging by the milky white glow of her horn, she was the one holding the camera up.
The donkey that she had a foreleg around was a study in contrast. Compared to his friend, the light tan donkey was smiling demurely at the camera, his head turned away at a shy angle so that his pale blonde bangs were partially shielding his blue eyes. He wore a scarlet silk smoking jacket with gold cufflinks at the end and held a briarwood pipe in his hoof. Phil took note of the silver band that had been used to repair the stem with a hum.
He looked back up at his visitor. The mare’s emerald eyes were roaming around the sitting room of 221 Honeybee Bakery Street, her gaze going to the collection of books along one wall to the record player in the corner next to the lovingly polished saxophone and didgeridoo on their mounts next to the piano.
“This would be the son of the Knoll family?” Phillip asked, bringing the mare’s attention back to him. “The country club owners?”
“That’s them,” Lagoon Mist nodded. “My mother used to work for them since before they set up that club, so I grew up with Joseph. We’ve been friends since foalhood.” She smiled faintly. “He never once held his wealth over me; he always treated me and my mother with respect. That’s what I loved about him the most.”
“Tell me the whole story,” Phillip said, leaning back.
Lagoon Mist sighed and sat back in the chair, licking her lips. “He’d been acting off for a while; he started spending more time with me and less time with his folks, which was weird; he loved his mom and dad. I think the last time he had a serious fight with them was when we were 16, and it blew over in a week. I tried to ask what was going on, but he never gave me a straight answer. He would say things like ‘You wouldn’t believe it if I told you,’ and ‘My parents got into something weird and I’m not sure what to do.’ He asked me for advice a couple of times: what would I do if someone I loved was doing something wrong but I didn’t want them to get in trouble and you were scared of the people that they were involved with? I tried pressing him for more details, but he would always clam up whenever I started getting somewhere.
“The last time I saw him was two days ago,” Lagoon continued, her shoulders shrugging as she sighed. “I met up with him that evening at our usual hangout, Sweetcream’s Lounge. Come to think of it, don’t you busk there sometimes?”
“Yes. Wasn’t there that night,” Phillip replied, waving the question idly away.
“Anyway, we got to chatting over a root beer float…just going over our childhood, random stuff, things like that,” Lagoon stated, her gaze falling towards the floor. “Towards the end, he said…he said that I’d been a good friend and he was gonna miss me. Before I could ask what he was talking about, he left, got into his car, and drove off.
“I went to the Knoll home the next morning and…” She took a deep breath and wiped at her face with a hoof. “He wasn’t there. I checked his room and he wasn’t there; he’d taken some of his stuff and gone. I talked to his parents and they…” Her mouth twisted in a frown. “They told me that they were taking care of it and shooed me out of the house.”
Lagoon choked back a sob. “It’s just all so confusing,” she admitted. “Why did he run? Why didn’t he tell me what’s going on? Where did he go?” She looked up at Phillip, her green eyes shimmering. “I just want to know if he’s safe.”
“I’ll do what I can to find him,” Phillip reassured her. “Think back to when you searched his room. What did he take with him?”
Lagoon wiped her face off again and rubbed her mane with a hoof. “Well…he’d taken his pipe, obviously.” A weak smile touched her lips briefly. “Don’t remember him ever going anywhere without that thing…it was a gift from his father after he graduated college.” She took a breath. “Um…he also took that smoking jacket of his, a gold pocket watch, and I think he took some money.” A thought made her face twist. “Actually, I do remember something weird. In the sink in his bathroom, he left some clipped hair from his mane around the drain. And I found some paper towels with red mane dye on them in the trash can…and this.”
She passed over a small plastic baggie filled with a strange bluish-purple powder. Phillip frowned and examined the contents carefully, then opened the bag, dabbed a bit on the tip of his hoof, and took a brief sniff. The odor confirmed what his sight already told him: this was no brand of drug that he knew.
“I never had any sign that Joseph was doing drugs!” Lagoon cried. “When I saw that in there, I just grabbed it and hid it in my pocket; if his parents saw it, they could freak and I…I just didn’t want to get him in trouble.”
“I understand,” Phillip assured her, pocketing the evidence. “Did he take any of his clothing?”
“No, just the smoking jacket,” Lagoon shook her head. “At least, as far as I could tell.”
“Can you describe the pocketwatch?”
“It was gold-plated and had a sun and moon inscribed on the front. He got that for himself a couple of years ago.”
“What brand of mintdust did he smoke?”
Lagoon sucked on her lower lip. “Um…Trumpeter.”
“Anything else weird you noticed?”
Lagoon took a few seconds to think, then shook her head again. “No, sorry.”
“Did he take his car?”
“Yes,” Lagoon nodded. “It was a Buck Nine convertible, dark green, license plate…uh…three-B-R…something. I’m sorry, I never paid much attention to it.”
“That’s okay. Anything else?”
Lagoon sighed. “I…I’m sorry, nothing else comes to mind.”
Phillip leaned forward and plucked one of the business cards stacked inside a small box on the coffee table. “You’ve been a bonzer help,” he assured Lagoon, passing over the card. “You think of anything else, give me a call.”
Lagoon took the card and stood, her eyes still pleading. “Please find Joseph, Mr. Finder. I just want to know what happened to him.”
“Will do what I can,” Phillip promised, offering his hoof for a shake. As Lagoon departed, he looked down at the photograph of the missing donkey, frowning as he turned the evidence over in his head.
“Tried talking to the parents after that, but they all but closed the door in my face. Told me that they’d take care of it themselves,” Phillip said. “Did some hoofwork and dropped by here a couple of hours ago to identify the drug.”
“Wasn’t there something about that in the evening edition of the Ponyville Chronicle?” Daring asked. “Someone left a copy on a desk in the History Department and there was a headline…’Missing Heir’s Car Found’ or something like that?”
“Yes,” Phillip nodded. “Parents filed a missing creature report and police found the car abandoned on the side of the highway headed to Canterlot.”
“That means he’s in Canterlot, right?” Daring suggested.
Phillip shook his head. “This is a pony who clearly planned this out, took the time to change their manestyle and disguise themselves. They’re not gonna do something as obvious as park their car by the side of the road for anyone to find. Obvious blind.”
“Well, where do you think he is?” Daring asked.
“Not sure yet, but I’m working on it,” Phillip answered. “Working on a few other leads.”
“Like what?” Daring asked.
“Ask yourself,” Phillip said. “Why would someone who’s going on the run bring their distinctive smoking jacket and pocketwatch?”
Daring thought for a moment. “Er…because he didn’t want to get mintdust on his coat?”
Suunkii chuckled. “A fair guess, Professor Do, but not likely. It is more likely he was planning on pawning it for money.”
“Probably afraid to access his bank account; if he’s running from his parents, they might know if he tries it, or he could get recognized,” Phillip said.
“Okay, but you can’t search every pawn shop in Equestria,” Daring pointed out. “You gonna ask the breezies to check them again?”
“Can’t; the breezies are already migrating home for the winter,” Phillip answered. “But that’s alright. I keep contacts among the homeless population in Ponyville and nearby cities. Already put the word out; if they find Joseph or his items, they’ll let me know.”
“Wow. You’ve got all bases covered,” Daring commented.
“Part of the job,” Phillip admitted. “What’s your plan for these idols?”
“Tomorrow after classes, Caballeron and I are going to head out and find the other three,” Daring declared. “And hopefully, once we get all three, we can bring them back to the monastery and figure out what the big deal is.”
“Sounds aces,” Phillip nodded. He glanced at the blue-purple powder on the table.
“Be careful,” he advised. “If these ponies are watching the monastery, they might be interested in the idols too.”
“Don’t worry; I’m a tough girl. You know that,” Daring smirked at him. “But thanks for the warning. Good luck finding Joseph.”
“Same to you,” Phillip said as Daring took the parchment and rolled it back into the tube.
“Thanks for the help, doc,” Daring said as she pocketed the tube.
“I look forward to hearing of your discoveries, Professor Do,” Doctor Suunkii smiled as Daring exited.
“Phillip, this would appear to require additional investigation,” she heard Suunkii saying as she exited. “Could I interest you in having dinner with us tonight after a few more hours of work? Muziqaa has been looking forward to another one of your visits.”
Phillip chuckled. “You had me at Sirba’s cooking. Will always be glad she taught me to cook properly.”
“Not before you almost burned down her apartment,” Suunkii replied, the smirk audible in his voice.
Daring headed back down the stairs, her face falling as she considered the empty apartment waiting for her. With a sigh, she exited the laboratory and flew off home.
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"Neighhuatl."
I see what you did there!
11643925
I considered using a gibberish Black Tongue language, but it occurred to me that since Ahuizotl is based on Aztec myth, I could probably use Nahuatl as his cult's language. Found an online dictionary and substituted that.
So Ahui is pulling a Cthulhu this time around?
That's not worrisome at all. Nope, no siree, nothing to see here, move along now. 
Another gust of wind, slightly stronger, rattled the window, and the temperature dropped again, even colder.
"...an Ahuizotl." Daring repeated. On cue, a blow of wind as though from a storm shook the window, and the room felt as though it had turned to ice–
"Oh for Celestia's sake!" Caballeron groaned, stomping over to the window and drawing the curtains shut with a huff. "Now, Señorita Paper, you were saying about the...the thing there?"
11685458
Ha! I love it.