Love, Sugar, and Sails

by DSNesmith

13. On the Blackpowder Trail

“Kidnapped?”

Zanaya sighed. As she’d feared, Captain Petalbloom was taking the news poorly. “Evidence suggests that the ambassador and the ensign were accosted on the docks last Friday, near a known Pit Viper center of operations. Considering their involvement in discovering the place, it’s likely that the culprits were pirates looking for retribution.”

Petalbloom looked over the desk at Wheatie. “Dammit, boy, weren’t you supposed to be guarding him?”

Wheatie frowned. “I wasn’t sent as a bodyguard. I thought he’d be fine with Miss Metrel.” Zanaya detected the slight hint of a guilty slump, and felt a pang of sympathy. She wasn’t the only one missing a friend.

She tapped the desk to draw Petalbloom’s attention back. “We’ve reported them to Missing Persons, and I’ll be personally running my own investigation. We’ll do everything we can to get them back.”

“Sweet frigging Sisters, what a mess.” Petalbloom buried her head in her hooves. “Tell me, Officer, how often do you find kidnapping victims alive?”

“Um.” Zanaya swallowed. “Sometimes. Typically we're more successful when the victims are being ransomed, but… well, we’ve found others, before.”

Petalbloom lifted her hooves to her forehead and leaned forward on the desk. “Sisters help us, Celestia’s personal ambassador… Get them back. I don’t care how you do it, but get them back.” She glared at Wheatie. “Go with her. Do whatever you have to, legal or not. If there’s any political blowback, I’ll deal with it.” She sighed. “My career’s not going to survive this, anyway.”

She waved them out of her office. “I’ll inform Ambassador Milliden. Get started on that investigation. I want you to keep me updated, Sergeant. Good luck.” She shut the door.

“Well,” said Wheatie, “that didn’t go as badly as it could have.”

Zanaya had a brief moment of anxiety as she imagined her own boss’s reaction once the report filtered up to her through the levels. “Let’s hope the commissioner will be as forgiving.”

“I don’t think that was forgiveness. More like panic so overwhelming she forgot to get angry.”

“Same end result.” Zanaya shrugged uneasily. “All right, let’s head across the street and have a chat with Tatius.”

As they made their way out of the embassy, Petalbloom's words kept echoing in her head. My career won’t survive this anyway. The commissioner would not be happy with her. Yet saving Tyria was worth it. She’d seen some bad things in this job, and imagining any of them happening to her friend spurred her on.

Hopefully, by not involving Zed in this, her partner would avoid any fire from upstairs. It was strange not having him with her, but Wheatie Specklestraw seemed capable enough. All those service ribbons on his chest had to be there for a reason. Besides, she was glad to have someone with an equal stake in this. And he’s cute, too.

Zanaya’s mouth twisted dryly. Save it for later, girl.

Her eyes flashed over at Wheatie as the two of them left the building. A brief flash of dismay hit her. Soldiers weren’t often trained in diplomacy, especially not for pompous twits like Tatius Gableclaw. She cleared her throat. “Sergeant, have you had any experience with griffons?”

Wheatie started laughing. “Have I had—Detective, where do you think these came from?” He poked his chest. “You know about the war, I hope.”

Zanaya had heard a lot about it, as had everyone living in the port. What was true, and what was simply sailors spinning tales while in their cups, was anyone’s guess. “I take it you were involved, then.”

“All the Firewings were.” Wheatie’s eyes suddenly looked down, and his smile fell. “All the old Firewings.”

“Ah… are there going to be problems with Ambassador Gableclaw?”

“His name’s Gableclaw?” Wheatie blinked, alert. “How interesting. No, no problems. I’m looking forward to meeting him, though.”

“All right. Still… best let me do the talking.”

They reached the embassy and opened the door to find a building much like the Equestrian one. This entire district had been contracted to the same construction company, but most of the embassies turned the space into their own. Grypha was no exception. Great red banners unfurled from the walls to touch the floor. Desert plants grew in vases around the entrance, looking healthy despite the tropical climate.

The front desk was manned by a big, burly-looking griffon in a red uniform. He looked up as they approached and gave an easy smile. “Welcome to the Gryphan Embassy.” His eye caught the silver bracelet on Zanaya’s ankle. “Officer.”

“Hello.” Zanaya smiled. “We’re here to see Ambassador Gableclaw. Watch business.”

“Is that so?” The griffon leaned back his head imperceptibly and curled his beak. “Very well. You’ll have to talk with his secretary to set up an appointment. You can find Aetia outside the ambassador’s office, down the hall, to your left. It’ll be fifth door down.”

Zanaya thanked him, and the two followed his directions to find themselves at an open door. Inside, a small antechamber housing stood a desk, guarding another door. Behind the desk sat a small, female griffon with dark brown feathers. She was busy with a letter, her claw moving a quill swiftly across the paper.

Without looking up from her work, the griffon asked, “Can I help you?”

“Detective Zanaya, City Watch, PTV department. We’re here to see the ambassador.”

The griffon glanced up at them both. “The ambassador’s schedule is rather full, this week. I can make you an appointment for next Tuesday.”

“I’m afraid we have to see him now,” said Zanaya, toying with her bracelet. She’d thought up a quick cover story. It wouldn’t be prudent to let anyone know the real reason for their visit; best to keep Strudel and Tyria’s disappearance quiet for now. “A few witnesses from our blue dust investigation suggested that Tatius may be involved in the ring. Probably not, we understand, but we need to talk with him and get everything sorted out.”

“Blue dust?” The griffon set her letter aside and tilted her head. “You must be mistaken. Ambassador Gableclaw doesn’t associate with drug dealers.”

Zanaya smiled. “Even so.”

“I’m sorry, Officer, but I can’t let you in without an appointment.”

“Look, Miss… Aetia, was it?”

With a friendly smile, the griffon nodded. “Aetia Sablefeather.”

“Miss Sablefeather. I know the ambassador is a busy griffon. This will only take a few minutes. We just need to ask him a few questions, and we’ll be on our way. No need for us to take up any of the ambassador’s valuable appointment slots.” She gave an apologetic shrug. “I know it’s inconvenient, but I’m simply doing my job.”

“And I am doing mine,” said Aetia with that same congenial smile, “Which is turning away ‘visitors’ who are clearly lying about their intentions. Tell me, how often does the Watch send vandalism detectives to investigate blue sand rings?” Aetia nodded to Wheatie. “More importantly, why do you have an Equestrian soldier with you? That's a Firewing uniform, if I remember correctly, and I wasn’t aware that Princess Celestia was assigning her personal guard to help out Zyre’s law enforcement.” Aetia’s eyes narrowed, but the smile never vanished. “As you’re clearly here on business unrelated to your Watch duties, with a soldier from a nation that mine was recently at war with, I’m forced to deny your request. Now, do you want to make an appointment, or should I call security?”

Fuming internally, Zanaya tried one last time. “I don’t want to have to get a court order, Miss Sablefeather, but if you leave me no choice, I will.”

“Come back when you have one,” said Aetia, her warm tone edged with acid. She tapped a claw against a bell on her desk. “Good day, Detective.”

“We’re not leaving until we talk to—”

Behind her, Zanaya felt a tap. She turned to see a pair of large, uniformed griffons. Aetia coughed. “Please show our guests to the exit.”

Zanaya and Wheatie were politely but firmly escorted out of the building by the security guards. The griffons shut the door behind them and favored Wheatie with one last glare before disappearing within.

Wheatie frowned. “Well.”

“Blasted secretary.” Zanaya scowled. “We have to get in there.” She thought for a moment. “Well, if we can’t get through with a fake charge, we’ll just have to find a real one.”

“Zanaya, we don’t know for sure that he’s even involved in Rye and Tyria’s disappearance—”

“No, but we do know that he’s involved with the pirates. If we can link him to those blackpowder barrels, even tenuously, that should be enough to get the paperwork we need to ignore Miss Sablefeather.”

“Okay,” said Wheatie, with a shrug, “but we don’t even know where the blackpowder is.”

“We know where it came from.” Zanaya started off down the street. “Come on, we’re going to the Gryphan warehouses on the docks.”

As they walked, Zanaya glanced over at Wheatie’s collection of merits again. “So, you fought in the war, hm?”

Wheatie nodded. “I was at every major battle in the war, aside from Cloudsdale.”

“Whitewall?”

“Oh, yes.” Wheatie grinned. “So even Zyre has heard about the death of Viera, eh?”

“I’ve heard a lot of things. Not sure how many are true.”

“I’d bet that most of them are. We were trapped in the city, with no reinforcements, no supplies, and no hope. When the dragon attacked, the only thing that saved us was this insane plan my commander put together.” He described an outlandish scheme involving chains, lakes, and the downfall of a dragon.

Zanaya scoffed. “You’re as bad as the sailors, with those stories about seaponies and merfolk.”

“Not at all! It’s true, every word. I’ve got the scars to prove it.” He paused his stride, and pulled down his collar to reveal a patch of red on his shoulder. “That’s an old burn from the lake water, when it boiled with the dragon’s dying breath. This,” he pointed to a light mark across his right ankle, “Was a cut from a griffon’s spear in the battle the following day.”

Ooh, he’s got scars. I wonder how far down they go? Zanaya struggled not to grin. “What’s that one?” She gestured at a thin line that ran sideways across his neck.

Wheatie began walking again, and she kept pace. He rubbed the scar absently. “That’s where General Shrikefeather tried to gut me.”

“General Shrikefeather? Wait, the same Shrikefeather in charge of Grypha’s army?” Zanaya’s eyebrows lifted. “You fought him?”

“I killed him,” said Wheatie calmly. “Drove a broken shaft of wood through his throat.”

She was struck silent with surprise. It seemed there was far more to the sergeant than good looks and fancy uniforms. “The medals begin to make sense.”

“There’s a story behind each of them.” Wheatie smiled again. “I got this one during the clearing of Rivermeet…”

They talked the entire way down to the warehouses, sharing war stories and old investigations. By the time they reached their destination, Zanaya had a new respect for the Equestrian, and a burning curiosity to hear more of his exploits. Alas, it would have to wait until they were done with Tatius.

The warehouse was busy today, the doors open to admit traffic in both directions. Sailors carried crates and rolled barrels down to the piers, where red-sailed ships waited to carry them to distant Grypha.

With Wheatie at her back, Zanaya slipped into line, and they headed into the warehouse. The interior was filled with hundreds upon hundreds of boxes, awaiting shipment. Zebras and griffons milled about everywhere, going about their daily business.

They did not make it far before they were accosted by the warehouse boss. A squat, surly-looking griffon noticed them, and strode up to them. He stood up on his hind legs, and folded his arms at them. “Oi, you two aren’t supposed to be in here.” He looked at Wheatie and frowned. “You look military.”

“Port Authority, actually,” said Wheatie, acidly, “And you’re interrupting an inspection.”

The griffon snarled. “I didn’t get no letter ‘bout an inspection.”

Zanaya rolled her eyes, silently blessing Wheatie for the idea. “That’s the point of a surprise inspection, you idiot.” She waved a hoof at him. “Out of our way.”

“I don’t think so.” The griffon planted himself in front of them. “Not till I see some identification.”

Zanaya held up her hoof and tapped the bracelet. The griffon’s eyes widened. Good thing he doesn’t seem to know Port Authority isn’t part of the City Watch. Luckily, the warehouse boss wasn’t nearly as perceptive as Aetia Sablefeather.

Clearly annoyed, but apparently buying their bluff, he said, “Very well. How can I help?” The “get you out of my warehouse?” was left unsaid, but obvious.

“We’re running inventory, first.” Wheatie held up his chin. “We’ll need to see your manifest.”

“Don’t you have one already? We have to give duplicates every time we make port.”

“We need to check that the duplicate matches.” Wheatie’s eyebrows narrowed in irritation. The griffon bit back a growl and left.

“Nice going,” whispered Zanaya. “When he gets back, check the manifest for the blackpowder. I’ll keep him busy while you go find it.”

The griffon returned with a clipboard and several sheets of parchment. “Here you are, sir.”

He proffered it to Wheatie, who scanned the documents with a critical eye. “Very well. My partner has a few questions for you. I’m going to make rounds.” He walked away into the warehouse.

Zanaya asked whatever portmaster-ish questions she could think of. The griffon, eager to get her out of his feathers as quickly as possible, answered them all. While they talked, Zanaya cast glances around the busy warehouse, trying to find Wheatie.

After a few minutes, he came back, scowling. “Come with me,” he motioned to both of them.

They followed him into the back. At the far end of the warehouse, a group of several dozen wooden kegs were stacked. Zanaya couldn’t smell any alcohol. They had to be the blackpowder containers.

Wheatie looked idly over at the griffon. “Tell me, how many of these barrels are you supposed to have?”

“Thirty-two,” he said, clearly annoyed.

“And how many are there?”

“Thirty-two.” The griffon’s beak twisted in irritation.

Wheatie frowned. “I would expect someone in your position to at least be able to count to twenty.”

Rolling his eyes, the griffon began a swift count of the kegs. His eyes widened and he paled under his feathers. Wheatie raised an eyebrow. “Well?”

“Eighteen.” The griffon checked the manifest to see what was in the barrels. When he found it, he looked up sharply again. “Aw, shit.”

“I’m curious,” said Zanaya lightly, “Just what someone could do with fourteen barrels of explosives.”

Wheatie pursed his lips. “How often do you ship these through?”

“Every month.” The griffon was sweating. “Shit! They’re gonna have my head for this.”

“Every month?” Zanaya frowned. “Assuming fourteen barrels every month, how many can you not account for?”

The griffon swallowed. “Lots.” He looked down at the manifest, almost disbelieving. “I need to report this.”

“Yes,” said Wheatie, “It’s probably best that your superiors hear from you before they hear it from us.”

The griffon fled, running as fast as his legs could carry him. Zanaya watched him go with trepidation. “Lots, he says.”

“Let’s check the doors. I’ll do the north side, you do the south.”

She made rounds of the warehouse, testing every entrance and exit. All of them were locked firmly, and showed no signs of tampering. When Zanaya met up with Wheatie back beside the barrels, he had the same report.

“So whoever took these barrels had a key. Or was allowed in.” Zanaya stamped a hoof in triumph. “And we’ve got eyewitness testimony that Tatius is smuggling for the pirates. An eyewitness who is currently believed to be kidnapped by said pirates. It’s probably not enough to get a warrant for his arrest, but it’s sure as hell grounds for interrogation.”

“Back to the embassy, then?” Wheatie tugged on his collar.

“Not yet.” Zanaya jerked her head to the exit, and the two began making their way out. “I need to get back to the precinct and get a court order. That bloody secretary won’t let us in without one. I need to talk to Commissioner Zireena, work out the details.”

Wheatie nodded. “Need my help for anything?”

“I don’t think so. Not until we speak with Tatius.”

He looked at her curiously. “If you’re talking to your boss, won’t that make this an official investigation? I don’t think they’ll want me going with you.”

“Mm… I’ll say we’re working jointly with the Equestrian embassy. She should buy that, your ambassador was pretty high up, if I read Petalbloom right.”

“Great.” Wheatie smiled. “I’d like to see this through. I’ll see you tomorrow at the embassy, then?”

“Actually,” said Zanaya, as they walked out into the daylight, “I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner. I find it helps to discuss the facts of a case over food.”

“Dinner?” Wheatie raised an eyebrow and faintly grinned. “Sounds good.”

“You can tell me more war stories,” she said with an amused smile playing on her lips. “Chatoya’s Diner, West Sixth Street, on the west side. Ask the embassy secretary if you need directions. See you at seven?”

“Seven it is.” Wheatie dipped his head, and flared his wings. “Want a lift back to the precinct? We can skip the traffic.”

Zanaya inhaled, and grinned. “All right, soldier boy. Let’s go.”

Comments

[Orthoros]

uhhh... wheaties getting some action? *wink, wink*

But i'm guessing the authorities will find out when it's too late...

[AdrianVesper]

Zanaya’s mouth wrenched dryly

This line broke my imagination. Its a bit of weird way to describe an expression.

But, I've been enjoying this story greatly thus far. This and Age of Wings and Steel both deserve more readership.

The beta couple isn't as interesting though. I feel like Rye and Tyria have a lot more dimension as characters than Wheatie and Zanaya, but maybe that will change as we get to know them better.

[DSNesmith]

2663362
Yeah, it was weird, changed it.

Wheatie and Zanaya aren't as deep as our main pair, character-wise. Their plotline is going to be less about them, and more about figuring out what's happening.

[Silver Wind]

Wheatie was always the cutest Firewing X3

[Cedric Bale]

>mfw there's been a sequel to one of my favorite stories on FimFiction for almost three months and I didn't know until just now

I can't read this right now, but the moment I get the chance to, this is going directly into my retinas.
Also, mistake rectified: I am now Following you.

[vren55]

If there was only one qualm I had about Age of Wings and Steel, it was that Rye didn't get a happy ending/ i felt that Rye's story wasn't done yet...

Welp. That's going to be solved. So on my RL list.