The Toll of Clockwork Tower

by Faindragon

Chapter 4 - The Technician

“You know Lyra.” Pocket’s laugh echoed around us as we walked, the only source of light illuminating the hallway being my horn. “Not one wishing to be disturbed.”

I tried to breathe through my mouth, but quickly regretted my decision as my stomach tried to turn inside out. I’d rather have the smell of the sewers in my nose than the taste of it on my tongue. “How does she even manage to live down here! How can you be so unaffected by it?” I had forgotten to horrible the air smelled, and tasted, down here.

“She’s used to it, I guess,” he said. Not even the smile on his face could completely mask out his wrinkled nose.

Lyra lived in her workshop deep in the lower part of Cloaca Canterlot, far from anypony who would be able to disturb her. She had lived there for as long as I knew, always protected by guards from Pocket Slip’s gang. In return for his protection, she forged the Asphodelus blades.

When Pocket Slip had tried to create stabilization between the gangs, she had been the one to forge the blades that had tied them together. Every knife had been personally designed for the pony who would use it, and she had refused to let anyone but that pony so much as look upon the blade.

Besides being the only smith alive with the knowledge about the metal alloy the blades were forged with, she was also a very skilled mechanic and, surprisingly, lyre player. I had only heard her play once, during one of the long nights I had been assigned guard duty down here. The drawn-out, soft notes had been heartbreaking, filled with sorrow I couldn’t comprehend.

I gave a start as a guard seemingly materialized from the darkness in front of us. “Lyra’s awaiting you, Boss,” he said, pausing before us. “But she’s not happy to be disturbed.”

“She’s never happy to be visited,” Pocket snorted and brushed past the guard. “Continue with your duty.” With a sharp nod the guard continued, eyeing me as he walked into the darkness again.

I quickly followed Pocket, and it didn’t take long before we stood outside the small door leading into Lyra’s workshop. Light shone through a small gap in the door, and without stopping Pocket opened it and motioned for me to step inside.

The room I stepped into was warmer than the sewers outside. The source of the heat, as well as the orange light that illuminated the room, was the resting hearth in the centre of room. Around the hearth and walls had multiple workbenches and shelves been placed. Two doors lead away from the workshop.

Taking a deep breath, I released the illuminating spell. Even if the smoke from the smouldering hearth was led out through a chimney-flue, the air in here was filled by the smell of burning coal. A great lot better than the stench of the sewers.

Lyra, the Technician, stood with her back against us at one of the workbenches. She didn’t even look up at us as we entered. Her entire focus laid on the piece of metal she held between the strange pair of mechanical limbs, arms as she called them, that emerged from her shoulders. Both of the two limbs were fine-tuned, able to move freely with pinpoint precision. They ended in five oblong extensions, and each extension could move by itself, unaffected by the movement of the rest.

“What is it, Slip?”she asked impatiently. “I thought I told you not to disturb my work if you wanted these finished.”

“I know, and we will make this quick,” Slip answered as he walked past the hearth and stopped a few step from her.

She gently sat down whatever she held in the arms, instead using them to steady herself against the workbench. “He carries an used Asphodelus blade,” she whispered, just loud enough for me to hear. “Used to end the life of an earth pony.”

“I...” Pocket started. I blinked and looked over at him. He seemed just as surprised as I was. “You have heard about it, then?”

She shook her head and pushed off from the table. “Yes... heard.” Turning around, she eyed me. Her eyes were soft. Regretful. “Who was he?”

“Pendulum. A clockmaker who had taken me in as his apprentice. A friend,” I answered, swallowing the lump that had formed in my throat.

“I share your pain, Clockwork,” she said softly, walking up to me and putting one of the cold, mechanical limbs on my shoulder, squeezing lightly as she met my eyes with her own gold-tinted ones. “And you have my regrets.” For a moment, she stood as frozen, before she sighed and released me, taking a step back. “Let me see it.”

Without a word, I levitated the knife up. She took a hold on it with one of the paw-like limbs. As soon as the limb touched the blade, the unicorn shivered, her eyes widening. Her legs gave after under her and she nearly fell over, but she caught herself against the outer ring of the hearth with her other paw. A few tears dropped down her muzzle as she took a few quick breaths.

“Are you okay?” I asked and took a step forward, but she gently pushed me away with the backside of the limb she held the blade in.

“Yeah,” she said weakly and pushed of the hearth. “Just... fine.” She looked up with a sad smile. “Pendulum. How did he die?”

“I...” I took a deep breath before I, for what felt like the fifth time in two days, told her how I had found him in the shop, still alive, and how he had died seconds later. Lyra nodded, only interrupting once to ask more precisely where the knife had been placed, but otherwise allowed me to tell the story without any comments.

When I was finished, she glared past the blade, and me, into the distance, tears in her eyes. “I created the Asphodelus blade as a painless way to end the life of someone, give them mercy in death. Not this!” she growled. With a flick of the limb, she threw the blade hard against the far end of the room, where it stuck in one of the wooden panels covering the wall. “Whoever placed the knife in your master didn’t do it to kill with mercy, but make it drawn out. Wounds as you described would never kill quickly, but slowly and painfully.” One of the paw-like limbs clenched into a fist and she slammed it into a workbench, nearly shattering it in two. “This was not what I created the blade for!”

I took multiple steps back from the mare as her body seemingly lost all its energy and she sat down, tears dripping down her cheeks and her mouth moving, speaking without words. I looked up at Pocket, who made his way to her side.

“Clockwork here wants to correct it, Lyra.” He spoke carefully with a soft tone. “He wants to find whoever did this and avenge Pendulum’s death.” He lifted up the mare’s head with a hoof. “But he need your help. You know what blade this is. You know who the owner is.”

For a few minutes, no one moved. Then she blinked and, with a quick movement from the still clenched limb, shoved his hoof away from her face. She took a deep breath, and it was like all sorrow had disappeared. “And what do you get out from it, Slip?” Her words were steady and hard as steel. For a moment, she glared at the earth pony, before she looked at me. “You will get the name, Clockwork, on one condition.” She pointed towards me with a claw-like extension. “You will use an Asphodelus blade yourself to kill that son of a harlot. He will regret how he maltreated this blade!”

“I don’t have any blade,” I said. “I haven’t wielded one for years.”

“Then I will forge you one,” she said and pushed herself up. “It pains me to hear that one of my blades have been used like this. This is my revenge as much as yours.” One of her extensions shot out and grabbed Pocket’s ear, nearly lifting the bigger, and likely elder, earth pony from the ground. “And you... you use this boy, Pocket. Use his pain for your own purposes.” She glared at him as he tried to get free from her grip, ignoring his words about how she should release him at once. “Your spiders will have to wait another day, understood?”

“If you help him get the revenge.” He met her glare and stopped fighting. “Then I will wait until it’s done if I have to.”

“Good,” she smiled viciously and released the grip of his ear. “I could do with a break from this.”

“You...I...” Pocket looked as if Lyra had hit him in the head. After a few moments he threw his front hooves up in defeat. “Fine.”

“I will let one of your guards know when they’re done, Pocket.” She turned around and walked up to the knife driven into the wall, wrenching it out of the wood. “Leave. I want to talk with the boy alone.”

He looked between me and the unicorn, but before he could say anything I spoke up. “I can find my way back, Pocket. I will seek you up directly as I get back.”

For a moment, I thought he was trying to kill Lyra with his glare, but finally he left without a word, letting the door he slammed behind himself tell us about his anger. Lyra didn’t seem to notice as she stood perfectly still, twisting the blade before herself, but I reckoned he would have one thing or another to say to me once I returned.

After a minute of standing like that, I spoke up. “So... what—” I was cut short by her spinning around and, without a sound, throwing the knife against me.

Without thinking, I dove to the floor, my heart racing. She smiled at me as I snatched the blade with my magic. “Quick reflexes, avoiding rather than repelling,” she mused as she tore the blade from my grip. “And a weak magic field.”

“What was that for?” I asked, rubbing the base of my horn, the unpleasant pain of stored up magic spreading out from it.

She didn’t answer me, but instead looked over me as she threw the blade into the wooden wall again, shaking her head. “Not the body or physique to wield an earth pony variant.” Finally, her eyes came to an rest, looking into mine. “You want a blade suitable for throwing rather than blade to blade combat, without anything that would hinder it to be drawn from the body of the victim, correct?” She didn’t wait for me to answer. “Will you feel regret, killing the one who ended Pendulum’s life, or anyone standing in your way to do so?”

“I...” I hesitated.

“Do you think the one killing Pendulum feels regret over the deed, Clockwork?” She looked down on me grimly. “Do you think they felt regret violating one of my blades like that?!”

I shook my head. “The blade was left behind, but that could as well be to led me here as to show regret. Even if they killed him...”

“You will feel regret ending a life,” Lyra softly finished for me, placing a metal paw on my shoulder. I nodded and met her gaze.

“I don’t think I can kill those standing in my way,” I said and looked away. “I only want to find whoever killed Pendulum and make them pay.”

“Honor those words.” She smiled at me. “A life should be worshipped, not ended.” The grip tightened on my shoulder. “But remember, at times death is a mercy. Regret those who you kill for mercy more than those who you don’t.” Blinking away her tears, she lifted the paw from my shoulder. “Now, to continue your blade. Tell me about your preferences in combat.”

For the next hour she kept me busy, asking me questions and having me perform certain actions, ranging from simply swing a metal piece in a circle to have me struggle with lifting multiple objects at once. But, as I wiped the sweat of my forehead and prepared to channel the magic through my already aching horn, she interrupted me. “That’s enough. I have everything I need.”

I blinked and, with a thankful sigh, released the magic again. Exhaustion washed through my body, and as I leaned against the closest workbench Lyra picked up the Asphodelus blade I had brought with me and, with a flick of the mechanical paw holding it, threw it into the hearth. Instantly, the fire there within flamed up, the blue and fuschia flames melting the metal in seconds before it returned to its glow. I followed the liquefied metal as it ran out over the floor, slowly solidify on the cold stone.

“What... Why...” I looked up at the mare, who had turned her back at me and now took out various boxes from the shelves around her with the use of both her mechanical limbs and her magic.

“I know whose blade that was, Clockwork,” she said without turning around. “But instead of having you run around in your search, I will make sure your honor your part of the bargain.”

“What if he runs away?” I protested. “He might have seen me or heard about me being there, and—”

“If the knife was left inside Pendulum to lead you here, he won’t run.” She firmly interrupted me.

“Then what if he attacks me?” I shuddered in the sudden cold that surrounded me. “Why else would he want to led me here?”

“If he attacks you, you’re going to fight back,” she said simply and threw me a knife she picked at random from a box. “He left the Asphodelus blade behind, so the worst he can use is a simple knife.”

I levitated up the simple knife and looked confused between it and Lyra. “But—”

“Come back tomorrow, Clockwork, and I will give you both your blade and the name it should point towards. If I so have to stay up all night working, it will be done as Celestia grace the surface with the first light of the day.”

“I...” I shook my head, realizing that she wouldn’t give me the name no matter what I said. “Thank you. For helping me.”

“Don’t thank me, Clockwork. I’m simply doing what I can to dampen my regret over the painful death caused by one of my blades.” She paused in her movements and I could hear how she took a wavering breath. “Now, leave me. If I wish to get your blade finished, I will have to start immediately.” Looking back at me, she smiled weakly. “Watch your back, Clockwork.”

Thanking her once more, I left her workshop, the sound of drawers being emptied echoing after me as I stepped into the reeking sewers.

⌚

“No, she refused to tell me who the owner of the blade was,” I said, sinking deeper into the cushion in the foyer to Slip’s office. “Not before the blade was finished, at least. She believed that I would run after him tonight, should I know.”

With one hoof the earth pony rubbed his temple while he brought the wine filled glass to his lips, taking a deep sip. “So, we can’t settle this until tomorrow then?” he asked sourly, gazing into the blood red liquid. “And even so...” He looked down at me with a raised eyebrow. “How do you plan to prove to the city guards that you’re not the murderer?”

I took a sip from my own glass, grimacing slightly as the sour liquid touched my tongue, and shook my head. That was a question I had asked myself on my way back here. “I don’t know,” I admitted. “Killing him will not fix anything, really. The guards will still not believe me. I removed the magic traces from the blade, and unless they find any traces of the murderer in the shop...” I sighed and looked into the wine. “Then I don’t know how I should do it. It’s not like I can drag whoever did it up to the guards and have him arrested.”

“I was afraid you would say that,” he sighed and placed down his glass on the floor, leaning forward some. “But, I think I can help you. Of course, I will expect something in—”

“Expect something?” I said with a laugh. “Isn’t it enough for you that I betray Pendulum just to clear my name?” I met his surprised gaze, leaning forward some myself. “And unless you help me clear my name, I won’t be able to open that door for you. The guards might not have the resources to search through the sewers, but they know how I look. Words must’ve been spread, and I’ll be arrested as soon as I show my muzzle to the guards at the working site.”

Of course, I thought, looking down in the floor and tapping my hoof against the cushion. Pendulum had his own key to the clock tower. He barely ever wore it, always pointing out that, should he need to check on something in the tower, there would be workers there. Especially after the curfew, since he couldn’t go there during the night anyway. The only time I’ve seen he use it was the time he personally showed me the clock mechanics.

I smiled slightly at the memory. It had been something special, being in the tower without any workers running around. He had taken his time to show me each and every detail of the tower. From the smallest cog to the two bells, the smaller Silver Bell and the great bell that didn’t have any name yet. His voice had been filled of fatherly pride as we discussed the different ways the mechanics worked, and he had been eager to answer my every question.

With a sigh, I shook my head. Pocket doesn’t need to know about that key, I decided. Besides, I don’t know where Pendulum kept it anyway. Likely at home, but—

Pocket coughed lightly and I quickly looked up from the floor again. “As I said,” he started impatiently. “I see your point, and will make what I can to help you. You’re welcome to stay here, safely away from the guards, until all this is over. However,”—he paused and took a sip from the glass—“I expect you to help me in return. With a thing besides the door, but it’s just as important.”

I eyed him before I sighed. He knew as well as I did that I didn’t have any choice in the long run, that I didn’t have any where else to turn. “As long as it isn’t anything that have with the clocktower or anything else of Pendulum’s work to do, then I—”

“It’s not, Clockwork. Don’t worry,” he said, taking a last, long sip of the wine and gently placed the glass on the counter. He smiled at me, a smile that reminded me more of a predator than a pony. “I think you even share my interest in this.” He paused for a second, continuing as I didn’t say anything. “You see, we have had a few... mishaps with guards in the sewers the last few days. It’s as if they’re looking for something.” He shook his head as I froze. “No, they haven’t been looking for you. It started earlier than that. But something occurred to me earlier, after I had left you at the workshop.” Leaning forward, he met my gaze. “What if whoever killed Pendulum wanted to make you go to the guards and led them here?”

“Instead of going to the guards themselves?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “If you suspect that someone is spreading information about you to the guards, don’t you think they would lead them here themselves?”

“Most of us don’t want anything to do with the guards,” he shrugged, leaning back again. “And it doesn’t have to be anyone from our gang. It could be one of the other gangs trying to bring us down. Whatever it is, it doesn’t matter.” He grinned viciously. “I want you to find out if whoever killed Pendulum worked with someone. If you don’t want to do it yourself, take him here and I will get that information out of him.”

“I don’t know if I can—”

The sound of glass shattering interrupted me. “Don’t you understand the situation, Clockwork?” Pocket Slip said calmly, resting his hoof against the table where the glass had stood a second ago. “This organization is threatened, and I’m going to make sure that nothing happens to those under my wings. Right now, we both have our different problems, but what if they lead to the same pony? I’m not asking you to rejoin the gang, but I ask... No, I order you to help me make sure that it’s safe!” He shook his head. “You still have friends here. I know how close you were with Spot and Honey, Clockwork. Help me keep them safe.”

“You’re using me,” I stated sourly. “Just as Lyra said.”

“I do,” he said with a genuine smile. “Just as you use me to get your revenge, I use you to keep those I care about safe. It’s more like a partnership.” He leaned forward again. “So, what do you say? I give you a place to stay and the means to get your revenge, you let me know if he worked with someone and open that door.” Reaching out a hoof towards me, he smiled slightly. “Partners?”

Like you give me any choice. With a sigh, I reached forth my own hoof. It’s either this, or go back out in the city. Before the hoof contacted, I hesitated. I could simply hide in the sewers until Lyra is finished with the blade and— I quickly pushed that thought away. It would nearly be harder to move through the sewers if Pocket was against me than it would be to move on the Canterlot streets right now. “Partners.” I bumped my hoof against him, and we shook hooves once.

“I knew you would come to your senses, Clockwork.” He put down his hoof again and rose. “Feel free to go about as you wish. You know the rules here.” I nodded and rose as well, and he turned around to the door leading into his office. “Unless you want something else, I expect you back tomorrow after you have seen Lyra. I want to know who it was before you kill him... or what you now decide to do.”

I looked after the gang leader as he left the room, gritting my teeth at his back. He had painted me into a corner. This was his domain, and I couldn’t do anything but play after his rules. Sighing, I turned around and left the foyer myself, floating up my pocket watch. The small hoof had already found it’s way to eleven. Floating it down again, I steered my steps towards the first of many places I could think of that Spot could be at this hour.

⌚

In the middle of the sewers, placed on neutral ground, laid The Rat. As long as the gangs had existed, so had it; a haven of resort that had everything a stallion or mare could think about. Gambling, drinking and ‘company’; everything was accounted for as long as you had the bits for it.

Inside The Rat, Manager’s words were the law. A law that was reinforced by his own, personal guards. Even Canterlot guards, whether on duty or not, had to bow for his words down here. Going against Manager’s words meant exasperating him, and in best case scenario earned you a beating by his guards.

But, as long as you followed the few rules there were, it was the best place in Canterlot to spend your bits if you wanted to do so without risk for your own life. Not even the Canterlot guards would dare do anything drastically if they saw me there, fearing that they might anger Manager.

Angering Manager. I shuddered. That means getting to know Felicia.

During the years I had been part of the gang, I had only had the misfortune to witness that once. It had been a younger unicorn, first time visitor, who had been drinking one too many glasses and gotten into a verbal fight with one of the guards. Normally, a beating would have been sufficient, but this buck had thrown out that he wanted to talk with the rat who owned the place. Unfortunately for him, Manager had been in the room and heard him.

I shivered at the memory. Manager had ordered the buck to be restrained, something the guards had been quick to oblige, before he had personally giving him a heavy beating. Once satisfied, he had told the guard to throw the buck out. That’s when the buck, who apparently hadn’t learned from his earlier mistake, spat Manager in the face and called him rat again.

The sound of the small golden bell hadn’t even subsided before Felicia had been there, pouncing on the unfortunate buck. The last thing I had seen before I turned away was Manager’s cold smile. Even after I had looked away, I had heard the sickening sound of Felicia maim the body and the buck’s screams of panic and pain. His pain didn’t last for long before Felicia had decided to end it.

Eventually, the Rat had returned to its usual, although a bit more dampened, state. As I had left that evening, I had caught a glimpse of the carnivore sitting in the corner, contentedlu eating on the corpse.

With another shiver, I pushed the memory away and looked up at the signboard, picturing an overdimensional rat sitting over a barrel with a jug in its claws, that hung askew over the door.

The Rat didn’t look much for the world from the outside. If it wasn’t for the torches illuminating the signboard and the faint sound of music and laughter that found its way through the thick door it could easily be mistaken for one of many alcoves or strange storage rooms in the sewers. The door was barely wide enough for a full grown stallion to go through.

I hesitated. Maybe I should just find Honey instead? I blinked. Come to think of it, I didn’t see her when I searched for Spot, and...

Shaking my head, I floated up the few bits I had found in one of my pockets. The faint light from the torches making them gleam softly, and I made the decision. I’ve the rest of time to spend one way or another. Even if Spot isn’t here, then maybe I can kill some time with games. With a bit of luck, these bits might last the entire day. I smiled slightly. If Spot is here, I won’t need that luck. Not with his poker face.

Nodding to myself, I took the last steps to the door and pushed it open. It was as if another world opened up. A world far away from the sewers.

The room I stepped into was well-lit by the lamps that hung down from the ceiling and the dull stone walls were covered with light wooden panels, giving the room a depth and beauty that couldn’t be found anywhere else in the sewers. Tables stood spread out in half circles around the stage that filled up the right hoof wall, and even at this fairly early hour many of the tables were occupied. A group of white coated mares, clad in garments designed to tickle your fantasy, danced on the stage to the soft tunes of the orchestrion standing at the far end of the room.

Mares and stallions, hoofpicked for their appearance, gracefully moved between the tables and booths, picked up orders or brought food or drinks to the guests. Behind the counter placed along the left wall stood a pair of identical twins, pouring up drinks in glasses to a waiting waitress as they chattered between each other.

Along the walls stood Manager’s brown clad guards, keeping keen eyes on everyone in the room. One of the guards stepped up to me as soon as I entered the room.

“Welcome, Sir,” she said with a pleasant smile. “I’m afraid that you have to hoof over any weapon at the door before entering the tavern. We can keep it for safekeeping, or you can simply leave it in the chest.” She motioned towards a chest next to the door which, unsurprisingly, was empty.

“Safekeeping, please,” I said and levitated up the sheath Lyra had given me.

“Do you have any other weapon I should know of, Sir?” She eyed the sheath.

“You’re free to do the scan, should you not trust me.” I understood her doubt. The ponies entering from the sewers would nearly always be part of a gang, and as such carry an Asphodelus blade.

“You have been here before?” She looked up at me with a raised eyebrow. “I don’t recognize you.”

“Many times, but that was years ago,” I said simply.

The answer seemed to satisfy her, as she nodded and levitated the sheath over to a small table standing next to the door. “This will only take a second, Sir.” She closed her eyes and nearly instantly a small spark flew from her horn and hit me in the head, leaving behind a lingering sensation of a drop ice-cold water hitting me. “Very good, Sir. Welcome to The Rat.” She floated up a piece of paper and gave it to me. “Once you’re leaving, simply give this to one of the guards to have your weapon returned to you. Enjoy your stay.”

“Thank you,” I said and tucked down the paper into a pocket. Without another word, the mare returned to her post and I walked into the tavern, my eyes wandering over the guests. Among the guests sat Spot.

Unsurprisingly, he sat at a table together with four other ponies. All but one of them holding cards before them and a pile of bits laying in the middle. One thing that did surprise me, though, was the sight of Honey and the colt who had been on guard with her sitting at the table.

She held cards in one hoof and, with a rap motion of her other hoof, flicked the hoof that was on it’s way to grab her jug. With a grimace and a sour pout, the colt stroke his hoof, something that caused the mare to laugh and ruffle his mane before she placed out her cards on the table. The other stallion, a guard if the helmet next to him on the table had any say in it, laughed and dragged the bits to himself as he showed the rest of the table his cards, earning a few frowns from the other players.

I stopped in the middle of the step, but before I could decide whether I should go up to them despite the guard or not Honey looked up from the cards being dealt to her and met my gaze. With a smile, she waved me over. The guard looked at her, before he followed her eyes. At the sight of me, he frowned. The last player, a mare with an identical helmet before her, tapped lightly on his helmet and he looked back at her scowling frown.

With a shrug, I walked up to the table and sat down on an empty place next to Spot. He didn’t notice me, his focus completely on the four cards, a twin pair of eights and aces, he had kept from the deal. The small smile on his lips told me, and everyone else at the table, that he was pleased with the cards.

“Got room for one more?” I asked, tapping him on the back of his head.

“Huh?” He looked up at me, quickly hiding his paw. For a moment, his smile slippered, but it was soon back again. “Clockwork! Nice to see you. Of course, I’m sure these...” He looked back at the guards, realization hitting him. “Oh...”

“Don’t worry, Spotty,” the mare guard laughed, tapping her hoof against the helmet before her. “Down here, we’re not the law. We don’t have the power to arrest the murderer.” Her words caused me to grit my teeth, but I held my tongue. “Join in, Clockwork. Bits up front, two bits buy in.” With a flick of her hoof she dealt me five cards.

I shook my head and threw in the cards before I floated up the bits I had with me. “Next deal. Have already seen his paw.” I motioned towards Spot with a hoof.

The mare shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

“Anything to drink, Sir?” a cute waitress asked from my side, giving me a start much to the amusement of both Honey and the other mare.

I quickly shook my head. “No thanks, not now.”

“So, Clockwork, what did Pocket say?” Honey asked as she tapped twice in the table, the guard flipping two cards to her. “Good news?”

I eyed the guards sitting at the table, the mare looking unaffected as she dealt Spot his card while the stallion pricked his ears, before I shrugged. “I will get to know whose blade it was tomorrow, and after that I will go after him.”

Spot winced, before he threw in his cards with a frown. “Him? How can you be so certain?”

“The technician said she knew whose blade it was,” I said simply. “She will tell me tomorrow.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” the guard mare said, levitating up a card for herself. “Call it a hunch, but you have aroused my interest. It sound as if you’re trying to say that you’re innocent.” She eyed the card before she threw it away again and floated five bits into the stake.

“I am,” I said, sharper than I had intended. “I didn’t kill Pendulum. I... I could never do something like that.”

“You ran from the scene with the knife used in the murder.” She didn’t look at me, but rather dealt out the last set of cards. “The guard on duty said that he saw you draw out the bloodied knife, preparing to stab again, but stopped in the motion when you saw him.”

“I didn’t kill him!” She didn’t even look at me, instead throwing in a couple of more bits. “I knew the knife design and was shocked to see it there. I... I acted without thinking and took the knife out of his body. It was then I saw the guard and—”

“Knowing that you had erased every magic trace from the real murderer ran for it,” she finished for me and showed her cards, frowning slightly as Honey took home the victory, before she passed the cards to the stallion. She had to nudge him a few times with them before he reacted and took them, starting to deal between us. First, he ignored dealing to me, but after a sharp nudge from the mare he gave me cards as well. “I can understand that,” she continued. “What else would the guard believe than that you had murdered him?”

I took an annoyed breath as I picked up my cards, absently placing the two buy in bits on the table. “It nearly sound as you believe me,” I stated as I took a quick look on my cards. Celestia smiled up at me from the Princess of Heart and Nightmare Moon grinned up at me from the Queen of the Spades. The rest of my cards were quickly added to the discard pile.

She shrugged. “It’s neutral ground here. I can’t bring you in from here, neither can I in any way force you to talk.” She threw in her entire paw. “Why not make the best of the situation and get your view of it all? New light and all.”

“Not like you can change anything,” the other guard sneered as he dealt out the new cards. “The order stands, if this scum is seen by a guard he will be taken in for the murder.”

The mare rapped her collegaue atop his head, smiling apologetic towards me. “Sorry. He’s new. He don’t know how it works down here.” The stallion growled quietly as he gave her a new paw.

I shrugged and looked at the cards, keeping the two sevens and throwing away the last card. “No harm done. I already knew to keep away from the streets until this is all finished.” With a sigh I threw in five bits. “If then.”

She threw in her own cards without even looking at them and leaned back some. “So, what do you plan to do?”

“You sound very interested about my part in it,” I noted drily as the stallion gave me the last card, earning me a full house. Lazily, I called the bits thrown in.

“Half the force was called into the Dock District this morning to make a quick scan and talk with every pony that had been there since yesterday,” she said with a shrug. “Call me naive, but from what I have heard you doesn’t sound like a murderer. You were Pendulum’s apprentice, had been for what, five years?” I nodded. “You ran errands and took care of the shop, both when your master was in and when he was in the tower. Not a single one said you seemed unhappy with it.”

“This is against the law, Quillon,” the stallion growled and threw in his cards. “We should arrest him!”

“We’re breaking the law by being here, Foible,” the mare reminded him sharply. “But I didn’t hear you complaining when it came to get a few drinks and gamble some while on duty.”

“He’s a murderer!” he rose, nearly toppling the table over, and pointed a hoof towards me. “He should be brought into custody!”

The room went silent and nearly everypony stopped in what they were doing to look at the commotion. A few of the guards in the room took a step forward, ready to interfere would anyone make a mistake.

“Foible, sit down. You’re making a fool of yourself,” she growled and smacked a hoof against his chest armor. As the stallion didn’t move, she lowered her voice. “Didn’t I tell you what would happen if you let your temper take over in here? Take a quick look around you. Do you see those guards? Make anything threatening and they will be here in the blink of an eye.”

He didn’t move as he looked around himself. “He’s a murderer, Quillon. I can’t just let him be!”

“Then arrest him,” she challenged. “See what the guards in here will think about that. You’re not a Canterlot guard down here. You’re scum, just like everyone else.”

With a snarl he sat down and the tavern released the breath it had been holding, the guards relaxing and the waitress picking up their work again. I picked up the cards I had dropped and threw them onto the table, taking home the stake.

We sat in silence as Spot dealt a new round, but Quillon soon spoke up again. “As I was saying before my colleague here interrupted us,”—she glared at the stallion—”you doesn’t seem to be the kind of pony who would commit murder.”

“Like you have any knowledge in the area,” the stallion snarled, earning another glare from the mare.

I didn’t even look at the cards before I threw them away together with the two bits buy in. Spot still used the same marked cards he had when I was around.

The mare raised an eyebrow at her own cards, before she threw in two of them. “Appearance are deceptive.” She looked up at me again, throwing in five bits. “And I don’t believe that you were involved in this. The guard on duty said that the street was completely empty at the time, so there’s no witnesses beside him. One of the largest streets in the city, empty at the time of a murder. Doesn’t that sound suspicious to you?”

Spot threw in five bits, while Honey threw in her paw as well. With a quick glance towards both me and Honey, Quillion surrendered her paw as well. “I believe, and others do with me, that it’s something more behind this, Clockwork. I think that someone emptied that street somehow, to make sure that it wouldn’t be any witnesses.” She rose with a smile, levitating up her guard helm and equipping it. In an instant, her coat was replaced with a light white color and she grew a bit in size, until one of the many identical guards stood before me. “And your words have raised those suspicions. I’ll talk with my superior and let him know what I’ve heard, but...” She sighed. “Don’t get your hopes up.”

Foible looked up at her, before he threw in a few cards and raised the stake. “Conspiracy theories again, Quillion?” he scowled. “How many times will you have to get punished by the captain before you drop them? He’s the murderer and there’s nothing else behind it, easy as that.”

Spot quickly called, a wide smile on his lips. I doubted that he even heard what we were talking about, his eyes on nothing but the bits in the middle of the table. Licking his lips, he threw in a few bits more.

“He’s innocent,” Honey said with a sad pout, the act spoiled some by her quick flick over Doff’s hoof as he once again tried to take her jug. “Don’t you trust me?”

“I don’t trust whores,” he spat and threw in the call, picking up the cards as they were given to him. Quillon gave him a hard nudge on the base of his horn, and he quickly threw the new cards away with an irritating huff, rising as well. “And I will make sure that my superiors hears about your whereabouts, murderer.”

Quillion rolled her eyes, before she gave me and Honey an apologetic smile and turned around. The two guards left us alone at the table—wrangling quietly between each other as they made their way towards the door leading up to the Market District—and for a moment we sat in silent.

“Charming buck,” Spot spat, breaking the silence between us as he threw me the cards and hoofed the bits in the middle to himself.

“Marked cards, Spot?” Honey chided playfully. “I thought you were better than that.”

I didn’t pay them or the cards any mind as I looked after the two guards disappearing through the door that would bring them to Market District, the gears turning in my head. There hadn’t been any other ponies in the streets. No witnesses.

“Are you going to deal today, Clockwork?” he asked, giving me a start.

Blinking, I levitated up the cards and started shuffling them. “Who was she?”

“Quillion? Oh, that’s just one of Spot’s friends,” Honey mused. “Are you sure you’re going to use the marked cards? I mean, we all know which card is which; Spot have used that deck for as long as I have known him.”

I looked down at the cards and quickly threw them back to Spot before I picked up the real deck.

“A regular here,” she continued. “Have been for the last three years.”

“Pay’s good, too,” Spot smiled. “N-Not like that,” he quickly added at Honey’s raised eyebrow. “I meant that she’s easy.”

“Easy?” she teased. “She doesn’t look that easy to me. But who knows, maybe she prefers soft hooved stallions.”

“I meant that’s she bets high! She doesn’t care if she lose a few bits!” Spot blurted out before he could stop himself. He took a deep breath, before he added with a sly smile. “But I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

“Don’t,” she reciprocated, picking up the cards I dealt her. “But, in all seriousness, Quillion is one of the more laid-back guards. Not that she doesn’t do her job, mind you, had any one of us walked outside the tavern with her I’m pretty sure she would have arrested us.” She pondered for a moment before she threw in two cards together with a couple of bits. “Maybe not Spot. At least not directly.”

“Hey!”

“Officially, she’s keeping an eye on the door leading down here from the Market District, but she’s rather spending the time down here. Of course, she can’t stay here for long, but she makes sure that she got time for a quickie.”

“She meant card games,” Spot said quickly and picked up his own cards, throwing in three and a few bits.

“Among other things,” she said with a malicious smile.

I rolled my eyes and looked at my own cards, grimacing and throwing them all away together with the buy in. “And this Foible?” I dealt out the cards. “What about him?”

“Foible?” Honey asked absently, taking the jug away from Doff, who had finally managed to get it, and ruffled his mane, earning nothing but a disappointed huff from him. “Haven’t seen him earlier. A new recruit as I understood it, assigned to her patrol.”

“She walked down here with a recruit?” I raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t she say that it was illegal for them to be here?”

She picked up her cards with a shrug. “She’s not the only guard to come down here, on or off duty. You should know that, it’s not like it’s the first time you have been down here.”

“Back then it wasn’t illegal,” I pointed out. “Then it was just another tavern for all the guards cared.”

“Back then this place wasn’t as open with the things going on behind locked doors as it is now,” she said and waved over a waitress. “Neither had Manager fed his pet manticore with a few guards.”

“He did what?!” I stared at her, my mouth working. “He... he fed Felicia a guard?!”

“Didn’t you hear about it?” Spot asked, throwing in a few coins and a single card, a smug grin on his face. “I thought the entire city knew.”

“The guards didn’t let it be known they had a few men eaten by a tame manticore, Spot,” she said as the waitress left with her order of drinks for herself and Doff. “I think they said something about ‘losing a few men when taking a few gang members in from the sewers’ or something like that. But, simple put, the guards came down, demanding to see ‘the rat who owned the place’ after the tavern guards refused to allow them inside with weapons. Manager wasn’t very happy when they started talking, and it quickly escalated for the worst. A few hard words flew, and before the guards could react Felicia was among them, killing two of them before they fled with the tail between their legs.”

I gave out the last cards as she spoke. I had actually heard about the guards losing ponies in the sewers, but here? Like this? I shuddered.

“Of course, the guards weren’t happy. The captain himself came down barely an hour later with twenty ponies and demanded to see Manager. They spoke for a moment, more calmly than I thought they would, and in the end Manager agreed to hoof over the criminal who had started it all in compensation for the dead guards.” She snorted and threw in a few bits, which Spot was quick to call. “From that day, it have been illegal for guards on duty to go down here to make sure that something like that won’t happen again. Of course, Manager doesn’t care if they come down. Bits are bits.”

Silence fell between us. Honey took up the deck and started to shuffle while Spot counted the money he had won so far. After a deal in silence, the mare came back with a tray and placed a jug before each one of us, quickly disappearing again.

I raised an eyebrow as Doff took his jug and started to drink. “Isn’t he too young to be here?”

“Relax, Clocky. It’s just soft cider, nothing stronger.” She smiled at me and took a sip from her own jug. “And you’re not precisely the one to talk. You weren’t much older than him the first time you took a jug.”

“You tricked me into drinking it,” I accused playfully and took a sip myself.

“Don’t deny that you liked it,” she smiled and picked up the cards Spot dealt. “Besides, we had fun.”

“How would I know? I don’t have any memories about that night more than waking up next to you the morning after, my head threatening to kill me and my stomach turning upside down with every breath.”

“Trust me, we had.” She smiled as she looked down at the cards, before she with a scowl threw them back to Spot. “Stop with the marked cards, Spot, or I will take them from you and burn them.”

I threw him my cards as well, and with a loud complain about how wrong it was to accuse him for cheating, he changed deck and started to shuffle.

“Still, is this really the place for a colt?” I asked, taking a sip from my own jug. “Especially if it’s as open as you say it is.”

“Has the civilized life made you soft, Clockwork?” She chuckled. “It’s nothing he hasn't seen before.” She ruffled his mane softly. “Besides, I always keep a close eye on him down here. He won’t be leaving my side.” She gave me a dirty look. “After all, would you?”

I rolled my eyes as I picked up the new paw Spot dealt me. “Then? No. Now?” I chuckled lightly as I threw in half of my bits and two of my cards. “Yes.”

With a pout she looked at her own paw before calling and throwing in a single card. “You’re no fun.”

“You know what?” Spot cut between us before I could say anything and threw in his entire paw. “I’m going to leave you two alone... to let you catch up.” He dealt out or cards. “If you need me, I will be playing at one of the other tables.”

“That’s sweet of you, Spot,” Honey said with a smile as she threw in her cards without even looking at the last card and divided the bits evenly between me and herself. “If you don’t have anything against it, of course.” She grinned catlike towards me.

I shrugged and threw in my cards. “I had planned to spend the day with friends anyways.” I returned her smile as I took the bits she pushed towards me. “Although I had hoped that would involve you as well, Spot.”

“Oh, I will come back. I just need to get some bits first.” He nudged my shoulder as he rose. “Can’t let you guys pay all the rounds, can I?”

“And you can’t win those bits from us with your marked cards?” Honey laughed and waved up a waitress, quickly ordering a new jug to herself and me, even if I hadn’t finished mine yet.

“It wouldn’t be nice to cheat among friends.” He took a quick look around the tavern. “Don’t worry, it won’t take long.”

We looked after him as he left and sat down at another table. As the first paw was dealt, Honey broke the silence. “Want to bet that he will go away from there broke?”

“Is his poker face still as horrible as it always was?” I asked, shaking my head and looked at her.

“Worse,” she said with an amused smile.

“Then no.”