Siren Song

by TheDarkStarCzar

First Contact

I would have liked to do some research, but the library would be...awkward. Peachy Sweet's colts were charming, however, and the oldest one's history text book was only a year old and had the first thing I was after; Pictures of the bearers of the Elements of Harmony.

I thought that I might be able to tease information out of one of them, as Lyra implied that they were involved in whatever investigation was going on.

It turns out I'd met the majority of them already, which I felt at the time, narrowed my options considerably. Pinkie's erratic shift in mood during our conversation and Twilight's reticence implied that Mom was involved in all this and a taboo topic so I resolved to lay low, keep quiet and see how things played out for the time being. Maybe I'd stumble upon something interesting in the meantime.

I had borrowed the book on the pretense of being interested in the eleven year old colt, Peachy Keen's, schoolwork. The younger twins didn't want to stick around to talk about school but Peachy Keen was old enough to be susceptible to an old tactic I'd been taught.

It's simple and goes like this: Almost everypony likes to talk about themselves and the quickest way to endear yourself to them is to ask questions that allow them to do so. They don't even have to be good questions, just so long as you keep asking them. It's hard to do and not start talking about yourself accidentally and it's even harder to keep thinking up questions when you first start, but it's by far the simplest, most effective trick I've ever come across. Foals are especially inclined to being unselfconsciously self involved.

It was a tactic that worked on me, too, amusingly it would work even when I knew it was being wielded against me. I'd exhausted Peachy Keen's scholastic achievements and he'd already plumbed the depths of his athletic exploits when his mother seated herself at the table with us.

"So did you find who you were looking for?" Peachy Sweet asked, setting down a mug of coffee for me. I levitated it to my lips, blew on it and took a sip.

Peachy made strong coffee and for that I was grateful.

"Not exactly, but Twilight knows her and is going to tell her where I'm staying." I glossed over that whole situation, there was little enough point getting into it, really. Either she'd come find me or she'd bolt, it was out of my hooves now.

"Well that's good. Does that mean you're going to go looking for work now?" She gestured towards the South, "I know some ponies if you want any kind of recommendations."

"Recommendations for where I should work or recommendations to my prospective employers? Because if you're going to vouch for my sanity, I'm not sure if you've known me long enough." I joked, she chuckled politely, "I'll give it a couple days, a bit of a vacation, before I start seriously looking."

"Well I meant that I'd recommend you, but I'm good for either one." She smiled, "Do you have an idea what you want to do? What your special talent is?"

"My special talent is not actually very applicable to the sort of jobs available in the real world." Truly I should be by the water, I felt very isolated when I was so far from it in this vast Midwestern expanse of grass and trees. Never in my life have I felt so withered, dry and homesick for the sea, "I don't know, I can do about anything so maybe I better just have a look around and see what's out there."

"That's probably a good idea. You don't want to be stuck in the wrong job for years on end. A little diligence now might pay off big later." She paused to sip her coffee, "Hey, I didn't see your dog with you when you came in. Did you leave him in your room?"

"No, Cappy chewed through his lead and ran off."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that, I'm sure he'll come back, though, don't you think?"

I sighed and swirled my coffee in it's mug, "He might, but I have it in my head that it'll be like those animals that are lost on trips and miraculously make their way home that you hear about every once in a while. Only Cappy's too dumb to wait until he's been abandoned. In a week he'll probably be back home at the lighthouse, waiting to be fed."

"Maybe you could write back there and have somepony keep an eye out for him?" Peachy Keen suggested, looking up from his schoolwork.

"I could, but actually I've got a friend out there that'll take him in if he makes it that far. She's already got my cats, might as well have Cappy and complete the set." I said with a sad grin, "If that's where he's headed I hope he makes it. In dog years he's around a hundred and forty."

"Wow!" Peachy Keen gasped, looking up from his schoolwork, "That's got to be the oldest dog ever! You don't seem like you like him very much, though."

"Oh, I love him. Don't get me wrong, but I also love complaining about him." I chuckled, "I really will miss him though, even if he is a bit worthless."

"Maybe I could tell my dad to look out for him. He's in the Ponyville reserve guard so he's been out keeping the peace with his squad ever since...the thing from a couple weeks ago, but I don't think anything's really happening so maybe he can take a break and find your dog." Peachy Keen revealed. I had wondered about the colt's father and where he was but hadn't seen a polite way to ask. More importantly it gave me an in to find out more about recent events without sounding awkward.

"The reserve, huh? That must be interesting, I'm sure he has more important things to do than to play dog catcher, though." I transitioned, "Hey, what did happen that's got everypony so upset? I wasn't around yet, y'know."

"Oh, I guess that's right." Peachy Keen conceded and answered sadly, "Well, somepony killed a guard and they had to track them down."

"Really? Was it one of the reservists?"

"No, thank Celestia," Peachy Sweet answered for her son, "It was one of the Canterlot guards, here either undercover or on vacation according to which story you believe."

"Honey? Why don't you take your homework up to your room, I'll be up to check it in a bit." Peachy Keen groaned, gathered up his books and papers and headed upstairs. He had to know he was missing out on the good parts of the conversation but he didn't make any protest.

"The plain truth," Peachy Sweet confided once her son had departed, "Is that there's been any number of strange disappearances and there's a number of undercover guards trying to get to the bottom of it. The guards are really pretty poor at blending in, though, so it's no wonder they called the reserve in."

"But just when they had the murder explained, and it wasn't what anypony thought it was, by the way, there was some big robbery and they just stuck around to investigate that. I hear they haven't made any progress, though."

"What was the murder about?" I asked, hoping it wasn't part of a serial killing like I'd surmised.

"Apparently the undercover guard had been shaking down a small time pimp, lost control of the situation and got killed." Peachy Sweet said sadly, "The killer confessed and turned himself in a couple days ago."

"There are pimps in Ponyville?" I asked, stunned.

Peachy Sweet thought about it for a long while, "If you'd asked three weeks ago I would have said no. But I guess our little town isn't as innocent as it looks because there was at least one. He won't say who his...workers, are, but they performed some sort of truth spell on him, so they know what he's saying is true."

"Huh, I wonder what I kind of cutie mark you'd get for that?" I pondered.

"I couldn't say. It wasn't his special talent anyway, I think he sells furniture or some such thing as a day job or maybe a front. It kind of changes my perspective on the whole town knowing about it. It's not common knowledge, by the way. I know about it because of my husband, but they're trying to keep the whole thing hushed up, like that's going to work." Peachy Sweet shook her head, "The press knows there was a murder and their reporters are going to find out eventually, then it'll be all over the Equestria Daily."

"So what about the robbery? It must have been something big if the guard stuck around to investigate, or is it just a slow month in Canterlot?" I asked.

"I don't know, they're keeping that secret better than the last one, but it's something major I'm certain." Peachy Sweet told me. I think she could tell I was going to ask her more because she replied, "I really don't know anything more about it."

We sat in companionable silence for a time after that, sipping our coffees until I got to looking around the large and well decorated dining room. Thematically out of place on the green and white striped wallpaper was an unframed oil painting depicting a small figure of Celestia overwhelmed by a sunrise colored mountain landscape. Like the one in my room it was all painted with bold stippling and a palette knife. It was truly a beautiful piece that spoke of serenity in pastels and deep purple shadows.

"Did you paint that?" I gestured towards the canvas.

"Oh, Celestia no. I can't do that sort of thing. There's a mare in town who does them." Peachy Sweet told me.

"I just thought since it looked like the same artist did the one in my room that maybe you had."

"I've got paintings of hers all over this place." She gestured to one in the kitchen and to one in the living room, neither of which I could see the details of from where I sat, "She paints as a hobby and she used to make anypony who wanted one a painting for the cost of the canvas and the paints. In fact she painted that one right in this very kitchen, it was amazing to watch. In twenty two minutes she went from a blank canvas to this little masterpiece with just her knife, a fan brush, and five colors of paint."

"That's amazing! So there's a lot of her paintings out there then? Seems like she'd get famous pretty quick." I was speculating on trying to get hold of one of her paintings for my very own, even if an artwork to drag around was the very last thing I needed just now.

"I guess there's a lot of them. I've seen quite a few in ponies' homes, but most ponies won't part with them, me included, so there's only a few that ever come up for sale." Her eye's brightened, "Hey, if you wanted one, I did see one for sale in that antique shop on seventeenth and Bridle Lane, it might still be there. It's a seascape."

"A seascape? That's right up my alley, I think I might check that out." I said. Lacking any better motive to get me outside I eventually chose to do just that.

The antique shop turned out to be more of a junk shop than anything, it's eclectic blend of furniture ranged from the truly magnificent Fillydelphian high boy, faded from the sunlight in the window, to tumbledown and cast off pieces that would be too shoddy for even a dorm room. Every horizontal surface of said furniture was heaped with trinkets, baubles and the chipped, peeling detritus of a thousand foalhoods, priced with desperate nostalgia as the extortionist and collectibility as the apologist.

I am not a collector.

I am a utilitarian mare, I prize traveling light and take a dim view of bric-a-brac.

When I saw the painting though, I had to have it and the proprietor realized this and priced it accordingly.

"Well I'd love for it to go to somepony who'd really treasure it, but you see, it's on hold for somepony already, so I just can't sell it." The proprietor said. It was a lie, of course. A risky negotiating tactic and what I should have done was say that was too bad and start to walk out, assuming he would stop me with some way around the fictional predicament. What I actually did was less strategically sound.

"I really want it,though. Couldn't you let me have it if I paid a few bits extra? Like sixty bits?" The price was originally fifty. Did I ever mention that I'm a lousy negotiator?

"Hmm..." He stroked his chin, wondering how much he could safely fleece me for, I'm certain, "Maybe a hundred, I'm libel to lose a good customer over this and I'm not likely to find another by this particular artist of this quality any time soon."

I knew that was also untrue, this mare's work was all of superb quality, it was the subject that had me hooked; a mare, just the tiniest dash of color against the steel gray sea, a lighthouse in the distance and I had to have it. "Sixty five, you can't just double your price!"

"Maybe, or maybe it's my shop and therefore, my rules." He goaded, the wily old goat, "No, for sixty five I'd do just as well to keep it."

That time he didn't even make a counter offer and I had to up my own price, which was oddly humiliating, "Seventy, really, that's all I can pay for it."

"Weeeellll...." He looked up to the sky, shuffled his hooves, "You seem like a fine mare so I'll cut you a break. Seventy five and it's yours."

"Fine, I growled." Then I saw something else I wanted, "How much for that old case?"

"Two hundred and fifty, comes with a lyre, you see." He said in his folksy, infuriating drawl.

"I don't want the lyre, I just want the case and you ought to be ashamed to be selling a lyre of that value with that beat up old pressboard case." I hoofed him lightly in the chest for emphasis, "I want it solely for it's aesthetics, but it's only worth maybe ten bits?"

"Ma'am, they go as a set...." I turned to leave and finally got my way for once, "Fine fine, but for twenty five bits, make your bill an even hundred."

I narrowed my eyes, "You know what? I'll do it, but I want that giant martini-glass-vase-thing on the shelf up there, with all that glitter in it." Seriously, this vase had maybe two gallons of glitter in it. It may be the most glitter I've seen in one place that wasn't a school on hearts and hooves day. He shrugged and nodded. Even he wasn't going to argue the value of that bit of tchotchke, so I paid my hundred bits and carefully packed away my two primary purchases in my saddle bags and turned to leave.

"Miss, don't forget your...." He couldn't think of what to call it and trailed off. I turned, smirked wickedly and ignited my horn's magic. I levitated the vase off the shelf and let it fall, sending sliver of glass everywhere, then I brought up a bit of magical wind, whipped it around and let it explode across the shop, evenly coating everything, shopkeeper included, with a magnificent layer of fine, clingy glitter. His utter shock was worth the forty bits I figure he cheated me out of. Then I turned and left, nose in the air.

Unlike with Lyra I felt no guilt and at the time I didn't see the irony that I was going to track her down and give her the new used lyre case as an apology for my previous petulant act. I rarely learn from my mistakes, it would seem.

After asking around I found Lyra's house and she and Bonbon forced me to stay for a lovely dinner. Lyra fawned over the case as if it was a rare and delicate gem, but she's such a nice and cheerful mare I can't see her telling me even if she didn't like it. A real believer in the thought being what counts, that one.

She asked about my search and I told her just enough to keep her from asking anything more, then I changed the subject and talked about anything else I could think of. I even told her the story of haggling for it and the ensuing glitter storm, though I left out the prices, it's rude to tell how much you spent and I got gypped anyway, but she got a huge kick out of the story, declaring that it was "just like you!"

I'm not so sure how to take that, really. It's like my traits and personality have been ossified in her mind even with such a short acquaintance when I hope, more than anything, to make a change for the better. It seems like I've made a rough start of it so far.

'Just be yourself' is an axiom spouted by well meaning ponies since time immemorial, but I don't want to be myself, I want to be better. Not playacting, putting on airs, but truly a better pony than I was. This me was weak, petty, undisciplined and sad. Even if Lyra, and Wave Crest before her, saw past it and liked me anyway, it was a me I wished to shed and look back on, laughing and transcendent.

If only I knew how.

To be myself and leave it at that would be nothing less than a stark admission of defeat, so Lyra's statement stung a bit, even if it was currently true.

I got over it for the time being, set it aside to ponder later and we talked for a long while. By the time I left it was full on dark and I got turned around.

If I hadn't I probably wouldn't have confused the pony that was following me and I wouldn't have noticed him, out of place and trying to look nonchalant while attempting to figure out where I was going whilst I was doing the same.

He was busted and we both knew it. We stared at each other from ten yards apart, unsure of how to proceed. For me it was easy. He was a tall, beefy stallion with a grey coat and black mane, probably a guard, so I ran.

His choice was made, too, and he followed without so much as a 'Halt!' or 'Freeze glitter bombing scum!' which worried me to no end and called my guard hypothesis into question. He didn't have enough time to gain on me before I hit a dead end and was trapped. I wheeled on him and lit my horn, despite my utter lack of a spell powerful enough for this situation.

He advanced menacingly, his own horn charged a deep purple.

I looked around and found nothing but crates and garbage cans in the alley, so I flung them with my hooves and with my magic. He deflected all of them and set them all back down gently. Was he trying not to make any noise? I thought that was it so I started to scream. I was muzzled by a 'zip-your-lips' spell and I panicked.

In my fear and my rage I tore the street apart for it's cobblestones, hundreds of them, all of them I could see, and sent them to batter my pursuer. He didn't just deflect them with his shield spell but in fact set them back in place once they were stopped, the shattered street repaving itself. It was a chilling display of raw power and fine control.

Luckily for me that wasn't my main stratagem, it was a minor ruse and I directed a barrage of stones to crash loudly into the garbage cans.

Lights flipped on in nearby windows, if I could hold out a few moments help would arrive or at least I'd have a witness who saw me taken.

If that's the best I can hope for I'll have to do just that.

I was beyond despair and on the verge of sobbing.

He finally spoke.

"Calm down, Miss. You're Sea Swirl, aren't you?" I neither affirmed nor denied it, I wanted him to go away. It was the whole of my desire and I didn't hear him as he spoke,"You're in danger and I've been sent to secure you before...."

He never finished. I could hear a melodic muttering coming nearer, indecipherable but somehow familiar, comforting. His eyes lit up green, his irises reddened and his horn dripped that dark purple aura, but this time it seemed to be directed inward and a look of fear was drawn on his face.

Then he simply collapsed, a dark puddle forming around his mouth.

"Hey!" A shadowed form hollered to me cheerfully, "I hear you've been looking for me!"

"Mom?" Of course it was and then I heard a bark, "Cappy?"

"Yes and yes my baby!" She stepped closer so I could see her and that black traitor by her side, "Keep in mind, he was my puppy before he was your dog, and he remembered me all this time! Who's a good boy? Who's a good boy? Incidentally we'll need to run now."

"What?"

"Well you made an awful lot of noise, which is good because I found you, but bad because they will find us momentarily, so grab his back hooves and lets skedaddle!" She snatched up the expired guard's forehooves, held them awkwardly with one hoof to her side and danced with nervous energy, "C'mon. Now's not the time to be gobsmacked, grab his hoofs, hold them like this and let's go!"

I could have said no.

I should have said no.

In the end I hoisted my half of the burden, Mom's entreaty being surprisingly persuasive and we took up the cooling corpse and ran towards the Everfree forest, Cappy swerving between out hooves the whole way, threatening to trip us with his sheer, exuberant joy.

Author's Note:

It seems that you can't write a good murder mystery fic without killing off a few ponies, but it's my current intention to keep the gore down so much as is practical. Not that I'm against it, mind you. It simply seems out of place, gratuitous-like in a non horror fic, and this isn't meant to end up in the horror realm. Yet.
In the next chapter Sea Swirl and her mom team up with Sombra, form a supervillian crew and just start offing ponies left and right. Total splatterfest.

Comments

[The philosopher]

In the next chapter Sea Swirl and her mom team up with Sombra, form a supervillian crew and just start offing ponies left and right. Total splatterfest.

With Princess Cappy as their new overlord!