Daring Do's latest discovery leads her into danger, but also a new, mysterious partner...
After discovering a long-lost artifact, Daring Do is suddenly thrust into a world of deadly danger and intrigue in the most hazardous jungle of all: Manehattan. However, she soon finds an ally in a pony clad in purple and going by the moniker Mysterious Mare-Do-Well. Together, the two mares endeavor to uncover the truth behind the artifact and the ponies that want to silence them...forever...
Bright, beady eyes glistened in the soft glow of the street lights, reflecting off the empty, black irises of the furry four-legged rodent that sat in the alley, lurking on the lid of an overflowing garbage bin. Its ears flicked back and forth, searching for any sound that indicated trouble afoot. Seemingly satisfied that the coast was clear, the scrawny rat scampered to the edge of the lid, tensed its hind legs, and made the short leap to an adjacent, uncovered bin. It almost didn't make the jump, and its tiny claws clung desperately to the rim of the can as its rear limbs flailed about, trying to find a grip on the slick metal. Finally, with considerable effort, it stood balanced on the narrow rim of the garbage can and peered inside, hunger driving its every action. Scrounging for scraps in this city was never easy; however, this particular rat had discovered a small network of trash cans that always seemed to be filled to the brim and beyond with delicious foodstuffs. Tonight was no exception; a barrage of food smells had attracted it to the alley this night, and in this garbage receptacle lay the sources of all those tantalizing aromas. If the rat could have read the Equestrian language, it would have seen the faded painting on the side of the nearby building with the words “Trottentino's Itailian Cuisine” and “Finest Food in Manehattan” barely legible beneath a crude portrait of the original owner's face. This rat was not blessed with literacy, though, and its only concern at the moment was acquiring the eatery's leftovers for itself. As it leaned down into the bin and began to gnaw on the remnants of a manicotti special, its ears remained ever alert.
After only a few minutes of uninterrupted feasting, the rat perked up. There was a noise at the end of the alley. Instinctively, it turned and leaped back onto the lid of the other trash can before hopping down on top of the boxes that had provided it access in the first place; now, those same boxes served as a temporary shelter where the rat fled, waiting for the danger to pass. It dared to peer out from behind its cover. A single pony, light brown with a dark mane, trotted into view, illuminated by the street lamps. Just as quickly as it had appeared, it was out of view, clearly not concerned with the goings-on of the rat's alleyway. The sudden scare left the rat's heart beating quickly, though, and it dared not try to obtain more sustenance until it was sure the coast was clear. It crept slowly along the side of the building, staying in the shadows, until it reached the corner. The noise of the pony's hooves was becoming more and more faint. The rat stepped into the light for the briefest moment, then stepped back. It had seen the pony's silhouette in the distance, clearly walking away from the alley and toward the Southern District of the city. While the rodent had no way of knowing exactly where the interrupting pony was headed, it did know one thing: digging through garbage to survive was far preferable to following the equine, whether or not it was carrying anything edible. Not even the rat would go into that area of town.
It was into the Southern District, however, that the pony, a pegasus mare, trotted on this dimly-lit night. The lack of pedestrians did little to calm her nerves, but years of dealing with hazardous environments had given her a solid defense mechanism against fear. A song, remembered from long ago, hummed from her lips, her eyes scanning the streets around her. Situational awareness, she thought. Know your surroundings. After a quick sweep of her peripheral vision, she paused for a moment and reached into her saddlebag, retrieving a small piece of paper with hastily scrawled writing. She had read it several times already, but she had to be absolutely sure of the address, especially in this area of town. Satisfied that she was on the right track, she continued toward her destination, unaware of the soft, almost silent hoofsteps that came from the sidewalk far behind her.
The building was much like she expected. All the high-rise apartments in the Southern District had several things in common: barred windows, dimly-lit stoops, cold brick exteriors, and often graffiti splattered across the facade. Spray-painted words she would be ashamed to repeat in front of polite company greeted her as she walked up the stairs – a little quicker than was probably necessary – and began to scan the call buttons. The name plates were either gone or broken for most of the apartments, but thankfully, vandals had not yet defaced the one she was after. Her hoof pressed against the ancient buzzer.
Seconds passed, then a full minute. She scowled, then pressed it again. Only silence. Uncaring of protocol, she began rapidly pressing the button in a series of long and short tones that resembled old Horse Code. Still, no answer came from within. The mare's annoyance quickly turned to concern. Perhaps she had come too early? She turned to her saddlebag, ready to open it and re-check the time indicated on the note, when she heard a voice that was like a cold, whistling wind say, “Looks like nopony's home.”
For a moment, she thought that it might have come from the speaker next to the door, but then she realized the terrifying truth. As much as she didn't want to, she slowly turned on the stoop. At the base of the stairs, she saw the figure of a stallion, a dark coat flowing from his midsection. How did he get so close without me hearing him? Her wings tensed as he began a slow ascent of the short staircase. Her eyes narrowed. Fear began to well up inside her. He reached the final step and lifted his head. It took all of her might not to gasp. He was an earth pony with a dark green coloration, or at least if he had wings, she couldn't see them underneath the coat. His jaw was square, almost too square, and an ugly scar snaked its way down the right side of his face, from just above his earlobe to his jawline. A ratty auburn mane sat unkempt atop his head. Despite his intimidating appearance, the mare couldn't help but think, Man, this guy is like a walking cliché.
He spoke again, softly and with an unsettling air. “Awfully late for little mares to be out and about in this part of town, wouldn't you say?” He flashed a dirty grin. “Who knows what might happen.”
Her rapid heartbeat was not helping in the least, but she kept a brave face as she said, “You don't say. And just what do you think is going to happen?”
His voice was more frightening than anything else, at least for her. “That's up to you, my dear.”
“Bits? Is that what this is about? You want my bits?” Just by looking into his eyes, she already knew the answer.
“Oh please,” he scoffed. Even the slightest laughter from this imposing figure was the most unpleasant sound she could imagine. He continued, “You think this is about money? My dear, don't be so shallow.”
“Then what do you want?” she asked with a slight tremor.
He leaned forward, uncomfortably close to her face. She tried to take a step back, but found that she was out of room. She could have sworn that the door was further back, and dared a glance behind her. Quickly, she realized that she and the mystery stallion were no longer the only ones on the porch. A pair of ponies stood between her and the front door of the apartment building, their faces concealed by hooded coats that looked eerily similar to the one worn by the other stallion. She turned back to find his face mere inches from hers. His scent seeped unbidden into her nostrils, a cologne with a deep, musky aroma. In any other situation, she might have found it attractive; right now, it only hastened her heartbeat even further. His voice was barely more than a whisper. “What else? I want you, Miss...Daring...Do.”
At the last word, her eyes sprang open wide, the realization coming too late that this was no random act, no chance encounter with a gang of perverted thugs. They knew her name. She had to get away, now.
Daring's head propelled forward at frightening speed, striking the too-close stallion squarely in his jaw. It felt like colliding with a wall. Still, her unexpected action caught him unawares, and he stepped backwards with a cry that seemed more like alarm than pain. She could sense the other two behind her beginning to move in response to her struggle. Her hind legs kicked up as her momentum from the head-butt carried her forward, and she felt her hooves collide with the bodies of her two assailants. She was toppling forward now, the stallion recovering quickly from her attack. Propped up on her front legs, she attempted a dodge to her left, but her rapidly shifting center of gravity threw her off balance completely, and she collapsed clumsily. She clawed at the cement in a desperate attempt to get up, to run, to flee as fast as she could from these mysterious ponies, but heavy hooves suddenly pressed into her back. Her wings fluttered uselessly. She was pinned.
A rough hoof pressed her head down onto the cold stoop and forcefully turned her face toward the scarred stallion. She cracked a tiny grin at the sight of blood trickling down his chin. There was no semblance of a smile on his face, though, and Daring knew that whatever was about to happen, it was going to hurt. A lot. As he raised his front hoof up high in the air, she closed her eyes in anticipation of the beating.
It never came. The next sound she heard was a muffled cry from behind her, and suddenly, the weight was lifted off her back. Her eyes popped open, and almost without thinking, she rolled to her left, close to the stoop's metal railing, and propped herself up on her hooves. She spun around quickly to survey the situation, her head down and body tensed for a fight, but couldn't believe what met her eyes. One of the two cloaked assailants was draped over the opposite railing of the stoop, clearly out of commission. The other faceless pony had retreated to the door and was crouched down, while the stallion was at the top of the stairs, his eyes wide and his mouth agape. Daring and both of the other ponies were staring at the newest addition to the now-crowded stoop.
The most Daring could tell was that this newcomer was a mare. Beyond that, identification was impossible, due to the mask and full-body costume that covered the pony in two hues of purple, with light blue material where her eyes would be. A matching fedora adorned her head, and a long, dark cape clasped with a button with a stylized letter “M” completed the simple but striking ensemble. Daring barely had time to take in the stranger's look, though, as the mysterious guest began to move. The purple-clad pony whipped around so her back was to the other faceless attacker and bucked hard, landing the kick directly in the face of her unprepared opponent with a loud crack. A moment later, the cloaked pony was nothing more than a crumpled pile in front of the door.
The newcomer brought her rear hooves down and stood up straight, nearly eye level with the scarred pony. Despite the costumed mare being slightly shorter due to her gender, Daring thought that she would rather face off against the stallion any day. A look into the eyes of the male pony showed that he was thinking along similar lines; his gaze darted from one of his cronies to the other, then to the mare that had incapacitated them both, his eyelid twitching slightly. With only a second's hesitation, he spun around and half-ran, half-stumbled down the steps and into the dusky streets.
Daring Do watched him flee, her eyes wide and her heart still pounding in her chest. As his figure vanished around the corner of a building, she released a breath she didn't realize she had been holding and turned to face her rescuer. Daring did a double take, though, when the masked face which had been several feet away was now only inches from her own. She stepped back, only for her rump to make contact with the metal railing. Her eyes widened anew, suddenly unsure of the intentions of this strange mare.
The masked pony seemed to sense Daring's nervousness, as she took a step back and raised her right fore-hoof. For the first time since coming onto the scene, the new arrival spoke, “Don't worry. I'm not going to hurt you.” The voice was female, but the pony behind the mask was talking with a deeper and more gravelly sound than most mares would, obviously a ploy to disguise her identity. She continued, “Just wanted to make sure you were okay, and that you're really who I hope you are.”
Daring swallowed hard and asked, “Who...who do you hope that I am?”
“Daring Do, renowned archaeologist and treasure hunter, explorer extraordinaire, and very nearly a victim of murder by some questionable characters,” responded the pony in purple. She cocked her head slightly and said, “If I'm not mistaken, that is.”
Daring was briefly speechless, but finally spat out, “How do you...know that?” Before the other pony could respond, something the masked mare had said registered in her mind. “Wait, wait, wait. Murdered? But...what?”
“Who did you come here to meet?”
“What does that have to do with -”
“Just answer me. Who did you come here to meet?”
Despite being intimidated by the costumed pony, Daring was growing rather frustrated, a result of her recently frayed nerves. She responded indignantly, “And why should I tell you anything? I don't even know who you are, or how you know who I am, or...what even just happened!”
Silence fell for a moment. Then, the stranger finally said, “You want answers. I can give you some. You just have to trust me right now.”
Daring glanced at the motionless bodies of the two unconscious ponies whose faces were still concealed beneath dark hoods, then looked back at the masked pony. “I suppose I can do that, as long as I don't end up like those two.”
“Don't worry about that,” came the quick response. The caped pony continued, “You came here to meet one Professor Annals, correct?” Daring nodded slowly. “This meeting was detailed on a note you received in your mailbox today, a note which you still have with you, I hope.”
With a quick motion, only taking her eyes off the masked mare for a moment, Daring extracted the note from her saddlebag and held it in her hoof. “This is the one. He gave me this address, and a time, and...one other word. 'Urgent.' How do you know all this, anyway?”
“How do you know Professor Annals?”
Clearly, this line of questioning was not going to be guided by Daring Do. She answered, “He and I have collaborated on many projects and digs while working for Manehattan University's History Department. He's a trusted member of the faculty, a very brilliant pony. If it weren't for his assistance, I probably wouldn't be part of the University at all.”
Something that sounded like a sigh emanated from behind the mask. “Professor Annals was killed earlier this evening. His body was discovered in his home, by his wife.”
Daring's words caught in her throat. She could feel a rush of heat run to her face, a sudden upwelling of sadness threatening to spill over into tears. Instead, she gasped out a breath and whispered, “He's...dead?”
The emotionless voice of the masked pony responded, “Yes. And this-” the costumed pony gestured toward the apartment building behind her- “is not his home. He lives in a suburb of Manehattan.”
Daring Do's face contorted in confusion. “Why would he give me the wrong address?”
“Because he didn't write the note.”
The thoughts clicked into place. “I was set up? How? By whom?”
The stranger turned away. “That is something I'm still trying to figure out. And I think I'm going to need your help with that, Miss Do.” The masked face turned back toward Daring. “Somepony wants you out of the way. Somepony powerful enough to hire hit ponies. Like it or not, Miss Do, you have enemies now.” In the distance, a siren began to wail, echoing through the empty streets with a haunting cry. The purple pony turned in the direction of the sound, then back to Daring. “Watch your flank, Miss Do. I can't always swoop in to save you.” With a flip of her cape, the dark mare spun around and stepped onto the metal railing, being careful to avoid the pony who was still out cold and draped over it.
Daring called out, “Wait!” The costumed pony paused. “What's your name? What else do you know?”
The light blue eyes of the mask seemed to gaze through Daring. “My real name isn't important, but ponies call me the Mysterious Mare-Do-Well. Stay alert, Miss Do. This is a big city; you never know who might be watching.” Before Daring could interject again, Mare-Do-Well leaped off the railing and vanished. Daring ran to the railing and looked down, then left, then right, but there was no sign of movement. The only noise that rang through the night was the siren, growing louder as the authorities drew nearer. For Daring, though, the thought of the approaching police brought no comfort, and a single tear finally blazed a new, moist path on her light brown cheek. She glanced at the two unconscious bodies nearby, then hung her head and stared at the cold, hard concrete, not looking up until flickering red and blue lights signaled the arrival of Manehattan's finest.
Most ponies didn't put much thought into high temperatures. For them, heat was heat, no matter which form it took, and the most common reactions were to complain about it, stay inside out of the oppressive sun, or grin and bear the rising mercury with an extra glass of water or three. Then again, most ponies didn't travel far outside Equestria in search of ancient civilizations and artifacts, so they hadn't been exposed to the various degrees of heat that existed in all parts of the world. Daring Do, on the other hoof, was well-acquainted with two distinct, yet equally uncomfortable types of sweltering circumstances.
First, jungle heat: wet, thick, sticky, and likely to induce sweating within a matter of seconds. She had experienced this incarnation of heat many times in her travels, most recently in the rain forest of Coltombia. Despite the excitement of the dig she was there to assist, almost immediately upon her arrival at the base camp, her coat became damp with sweat, and it clung to her body for the duration of her stay. The thick jungle canopy did little to nothing to alleviate the brutal rays of the sun and the sauna-like atmosphere among the tropical trees. Humidity, she had decided quickly, was the natural enemy of all sensible ponies and should be avoided if at all possible.
The second type was desert heat. Many years ago, when she stepped outside for the first time into an arid environment on a cloudless day when the sun was at its peak, she felt as though she had walked directly into a wall of fire. Breathing was difficult for a moment, and her skin felt as though it would burn within mere seconds. The initial shock, she found, was the hardest obstacle to overcome when it came to dry heat. Eventually, her body's natural cooling mechanism kicked in, and the sweet relief of sweat helped to make some of the nigh-unbearable temperatures at least a little more tolerable, unlike in the jungle, where sweat only compounded the humidity and made the situation even more stressful. Dry, desert heat was much more to Daring's liking.
The current expedition, then, was pleasurable for two reasons. Not only had there been a recent discovery of ruins long hidden in the depths of Zebrabwe, but the ancient structures were located deep within the Sandmane Desert and not in some stifling tropical climate. Tectonic Shift, the geological expert on their team, had informed them that over a thousand of years ago, a river flowed through this area, and the indigenous ponies had settled near the life-giving water. Time and erosion, however, had caused a drastic change of course close to the source of the river in the northern part of the country, and this tributary had dried up. The ancient ponies left quickly for a more habitable area, leaving behind remnants of their culture and many crudely-constructed buildings, now devoid of pony life. While their major settlement had been known about for centuries, it was only within the past two weeks that a new discovery had been made. Several miles outside the main buildings was a sheer cliff face with a narrow pass carved into its side from the once-present river, creating a very thin canyon. A team of explorers had ventured into said canyon, which at its widest point was barely enough for four ponies to stand shoulder-to-shoulder, and had found an ancient door built into the cliff face. News of this find spread quickly among the archeology community, and Daring Do had been one of the first to volunteer to investigate further.
It was before that very door that Daring now stood. She tilted her pith helmet back to get a better view, her eyes wide with wonder as she surveyed the long-forgotten craftsmanship. The large stone door looked like part of the rocky cliff where it had waited centuries to be found; it was a miracle that the initial team had stumbled upon it. The only things that distinguished it as a door were the thin, almost imperceptible line surrounding it and a circular hole directly in the door's center, whose purpose Daring could only guess. Upon closer inspection, the face of the door had one other characteristic that made it different from the cliff face above and around it: the seemingly random indentations of the rocks were anything but random. It was a script, a written language that had not been spoken in, as far as Daring knew, over a thousand years. The writing was jagged, harsh; Daring wasn't sure if it was a result of it being carved into solid rock or if that was how those symbols were supposed to look. Deep down, she hoped it wasn't some sort of cryptic warning not to enter the chamber.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a male voice calling out from the direction of the canyon's entrance. “Ho there, Daring! Fancy meeting you here, my dear!” Daring smiled and turned to face her greeter. A short, vermilion unicorn with a short, dark green mane walked gingerly through the rocky canyon, stepping carefully through the uneven terrain. He looked up briefly to flash a grin in Daring's direction and promptly face-planted on the canyon floor, his own helmet rolling forward as if to make up for his lost momentum. Daring suppressed a chuckle as she trotted over to help the fallen pony, lifting his hat in her mouth before she reached his prone form. He looked up with a weak smile and gratefully accepted her helping hoof, as well as the return of his hat. After brushing off his cotton vest and clearing his throat discretely, he said in a low voice, “Perhaps I should be a bit more cautious in the future.”
Daring patted his shoulder. “Perhaps you should, professor. I'd hate to have to explore this cave all by myself, with you back at the camp lying in bed with a concussion.” She grinned softly.
“Now, now, Daring,” the stallion scolded, “You know that's not impossible these days. As the old saying goes, I'm not as young as I used to be. As much as I hate to admit it, there'll come a day when I'm no longer fit to join you on these little adventures.”
“Professor Annals!” The harshness of Daring's tone caused the professor to look up in shock and confusion. She continued, “I don't want to hear you say anything like that again, understand? Just because you took a little fall doesn't suddenly mean you're old and gray and not able to take care of yourself. You didn't come all this way just to let some rock get the better of you, did you?”
For a moment, the stallion was dumbstruck. Then, he began to chuckle. The chuckle grew into a high-pitched peal that echoed off the cliff face around the two ponies. It didn't take long for Daring to join in, adding her deep and gravelly laugh to her friend's. As their merriment eventually died down, Professor Annals said, “Ah, Daring, whatever would I do without you? Just as I dive into the very depths of my own self-pity, you're there to hoist me right back to reality.”
“I learned from the best, professor,” responded the pegasus. “Now, how about we do some research?”
A fire sparked in the stallion's eyes, and he tilted his helmet down. “Quite.”
The two ponies made their way back to the door. Daring raised her hoof to point at the mysterious script and asked, “What do you make of this, Professor? I don't recognize it myself.”
“Hmm...” mused the professor. “Not ringing any bells on my end either, I'm afraid. We'll have to bring the camera lads down here later to get some proper photographs so we can solve that mystery later. As for now, we should solve how we're going to get this immense thing open.”
Daring gasped. “How didn't I think about that? This thing must weigh a ton, if it's carved right out of the rock face like that.” She put a hoof to her chin thoughtfully. “Come to think of it, how would the ancient ponies have opened it?”
“An excellent question, my dear. But I have an idea that may provide a suitable answer.” He stepped up to the door and placed his hoof next to the small hole in its center. “Does this look at all familiar to you?” Daring merely shrugged, prompting Annals to continue, “I thought it might not. Pegasi aren't usually expressly familiar with the more magical means of manipulation. This is a magical lock. Only a unicorn casting the appropriate spell, their horn inserted into this opening, can open this passageway.”
“So how about it?” queried Daring. “You up to the task?”
“There's the rub, Daring,” the professor responded with a frown. “There's no means of knowing what the correct incantation could be. Why, it could be something more complicated than an intricate mathematical formula, or just a few simple words. I'm inclined to believe that the carved writing surrounding the lock holds the key, as it were. Deciphering it, as difficult a task as it seems, may be our only means of accessing the chamber beyond.”
Daring stamped her hoof. “That could take weeks!” With a snort, she reared up on her hind hooves and propped herself up against the door, bringing her eyes closer to the carvings in a desperate attempt to make some sense out of them.
The professor placed a hoof on Daring's shoulder. “I feel it's my turn to reassure you, my dear.” She turned to face him as he continued, “Yes, at the moment, we have no information regarding this unusual writing, and yes, the process of decoding may take a significant investiture of time. On the other hoof, it's not as though this particular find is going anywhere in the foreseeable future. Patience, Daring, is our best solution.” He smiled warmly. “Now, let's head back to base camp before you drive yourself into a frenzy.”
With a sigh, the pegasus dropped back onto all fours and turned away from the source of her frustration. “Thank you, professor,” she said, a smile working its way back onto her face. “Got excited, I guess.”
“Perfectly understandable,” Annals said. “I must admit, I was quite looking forward to some exploration this day, but the anticipation can only build as we hurdle this new obstacle. I, for one, am now rather thrilled by the prospect of piecing together this perplexing puzzle.”
Daring chuckled. “Always adept at alliteration, Annals.”
“Touche, my dear. Touche.”
***
Night descended quickly in the desert, the sky which had played host to the elder Princess' star now decorated with Luna's softly-glowing satellite and distant pinpricks of white light. Dry heat had given way to a cold, barren chill, made worse with each gust of desert wind, but not enough to dampen the spirits of the two ponies who sat wide awake in the temporary comfort of a large canvas tent. A table was erected in the center of the portable shelter, flanked on either side by the two pony archeologists seated on their haunches. Upon the table rested a single candle, its wick now nearly half-gone, which cast its flickering illumination over a haphazard pile of photographs, each one depicting the canyon door and its mysterious markings from a different angle. Each picture bore the evidence of fresh markings: circles, arrows, and brief notes jotted down by one of two tired but determined ponies. Despite all their work, though, neither Daring nor Annals was any closer to deciphering the ancient carvings.
The late hour began to take its toll as Annals let loose his third yawn in as many minutes. Daring looked over to her counterpart and noticed his drooping eyelids. “Get some rest, professor,” she said before yawning herself. “You can come back to this tomorrow.”
A weak smile graced the stallion's face. “If you insist, my dear.” He rose slowly and stretched. “You'll be retiring for the night soon, I trust?”
“I'm sure I'll get there eventually,” Daring said with a smirk.
“Do try and get some rest, Daring,” Annals said with an edge of seriousness in his voice. “You'll want to be fresh for tomorrow's work.” He walked slowly out of the tent toward his sleeping quarters.
Daring grinned, yawned, then turned back to the pile of photos. After having studied them for several hours, all the strange shapes were beginning to blend together into one indiscernible mass of confusion; Daring swore that her head had been aching since they started this arduous process. She closed her eyes for a moment and shook her head in an attempt to clear the cobwebs. When her gaze returned to the pictures, there was no sudden revelation, no instant understanding of the riddle that lay before her. She sighed. Idly, she slid the photos around on the table, almost like she was pool-shuffling a deck of playing cards. She scanned the sea of captured images, each one the same dark gray color as the rocks of the cliff face with different indentations centered on each one. A broad overview was getting her nowhere.
She was just about to give up entirely when something strange caught her eye. Apparently, the camera pony had snapped a picture of each individual marking, being very thorough in his documentation of the curious carvings. As such, on the outer edge of each of those photos, a different marking was also pictured. The one that Daring noticed had as its focal point an image of an elongated triangle, but on the left side of the picture she saw what appeared to be four straight lines, evenly spaced, with the first and third lines longer than the second and fourth. Another photo lay next to that one, the center image an oval with three small lines etched into one edge. It wasn't the center image that made Daring start, however. On the right side of that picture, she could see the adjacent carving: four incomplete circles in an offset pattern. As the photos lay on the table, the image of the four straight lines was next to that of the circles. Except, Daring realized, they weren't circles at all.
“They're hoof prints!” she suddenly cried out. Her voice began to catch up to her brain: “And the four lines...for four legs! It's not a language; these are symbols! But what about the other...aha!” She shouted again as her hooves scrambled to arrange the messy pile into a slightly more organized pile. No longer were the images at the center of the photographs her primary concern; she only cared about the ones captured on the edges of each picture. She matched the elongated triangle with a shape resembling a sunburst. Her eyes shot open, all sleepiness forgotten. “A unicorn horn...using magic...” The curious oval was suddenly a pegasus wing, tucked close to the body; she scoured the photos until she found what she was looking for. “And this shape looks like a cloud...crude, but close enough.”
Over and over she matched the pictures with each other, a pattern emerging from the jumbled images. They were depictions of the three types of pony: earth pony, pegasus, and unicorn. Rather, they were an artist's attempt at showing the various traits that each of the three types possessed, carved primitively into solid rock. The creator of the carvings had done so without putting two of the same type next to each other, and Daring saw a pattern there too. First, an image described an earth pony attribute; then, one for a pegasus; and finally, a unicorn. All three were represented equally, and all in a circular pattern around the magical lock. Daring stroked her chin thoughtfully and said quietly, “I can see it, yes, but what does it mean? How is Annals supposed to open the lock if I don't know the right spell to-
She slammed her hoof down on the table and shouted, “Of course!” The candle wobbled dangerously, and Daring quickly reached out her hoof to steady it. Once she had righted the lighting instrument, she hastily swept all the photos together, retrieved her saddlebag from the nearby floor, and dropped them inside. It was difficult to concentrate with how excited she was, but as calmly as she could, she exited the tent – after extinguishing the candle – and stepped into the cool night air. For a moment, she considered rushing over to the professor's tent and telling him the good news, but thankfully for the slumbering unicorn, she was able to curb her enthusiasm. Her hoofsteps were light as she walked to his tent silently and peeked inside. To say that he was out cold would be like saying that Celestia was a princess, if his snoring was any indication. Daring smiled and retracted her head, and a yawn worked its way out of her mouth. She remembered all at once how tired she was. The news could wait until morning. Under the moonlit desert sky, Daring Do stumbled her way to her tent and collapsed onto her bedroll, asleep within seconds.
***
“All right, Daring, we're all here,” muttered Professor Annals as he blinked against the mid-morning sun, still not quite fully awake. “I do believe an explanation is in order.”
“Yeah,” chimed in Tectonic Shift, the geologist pony of their expedition. He was a stocky, if not very tall, dark blue earth pony with a golden yellow mane and a chin heavily forested with stubble, and while Daring and Annals were frequently called upon to explore caves and ruins of ancient pony civilizations, the most excitement Tectonic experienced during a typical day with the team was when one of the more adventurous explorers brought back an unusual rock or photos of a strange strata. “I ain't even sure what I'm supposed to be doin' out here. Ain't no cave explorer, that's for sure.”
The three ponies stood before the rock door, Tectonic and Annals still rubbing their eyes after being awakened by a practically-squealing Daring Do. Her late night had led her to sleep in later than usual, and the sun was already beginning its ascent over the eastern horizon when she finally emerged from her tent. After a swift breakfast, Daring had done her best to rouse the older unicorn and the gruff earth pony from their beds, with limited success. Her two companions had followed her, reluctantly but alertly, to where they now stood.
“I need to say first, sorry about the rude awakening, but I couldn't wait another minute to tell you what I found,” Daring began, giddiness clearly present in her voice. Pausing occasionally to catch her breath, she recounted the tale of her discovery the previous night to her friends, pointing out the patterns in the stone door with her forehoof. As her story went on, the professor's face lit up more and more, while Tectonic's bore a look of puzzlement that only grew into confusion.
When her retelling of the events of the night before was complete, Daring looked expectantly at the other two. Professor Annals was the first to respond. “Marvelous...simply marvelous, my dear! Absolutely brilliant! As disappointed as I am in myself for not seeing it earlier, I must say I'm glad to have shed at least some light on this mystery. Well done.”
Tectonic spoke up, “Look, that's all fine, but I still don't get how it matters to a bale of hay.”
“Don't worry, Tec,” said Daring. “This is where you come in. And you too, professor. I realized last night that the lock on this door was far more than just a magical lock. Why would there be a depiction of all three types of pony if only a unicorn could open the door? Because you need more than a unicorn! In order to gain access to whatever's beyond this annoying slab of rock, you need-”
“All three!” the professor blurted out at the same time as Daring. “Simply astounding.”
Tectonic blinked and said, “So, we got one o' each type standin' here. How's about we crack this thing and just call it a day, 'stead of standin' around talkin' about it?” He stepped closer to the door , while Daring and Annals looked at each other with grins before joining him.
The professor stood in the center of the group, with Daring on his left and Tectonic on his right. Slowly, he lowered his horn to the opening of the lock, then tilted his head to Daring's side and asked, “What about the spell aspect of this whole thing? Do you know the words I should say?”
Daring said softly, “I don't think there are any words, professor. Our presence here will be enough, from what I can understand of the carvings. Now, insert your horn into the lock, and Tec, place your hooves on the door next to where he is.” The two stallions did as they were asked, Tectonic leaning against the ancient stone structure with his forehooves. Daring stepped close to the door and unfurled her right wing. Slowly, cautiously, she spread out the wing toward the rock, her eyes glued to the door and the carvings whose secrets she hoped she had fully uncovered. Finally, her outermost feather made contact with the door, and she gritted her teeth in preparation.
Nothing happened.
The eyes of all three ponies began to glance nervously from side to side. Tec finally said, “Huh. I sure was expectin' some kind o' show or somethin'. Oh well, guess I'd better head-”
As if on cue, there was suddenly a bright flash of light, and the three ponies covered their eyes and swiveled their heads away. The pegasus mare dared to look first and saw that all of the carvings in the door were now lit with a brilliant blue light that seemed to emanate from within the passage behind the rocky obstruction. She shouted to her companions, “Step back! I think something's about to happen!” The stallions didn't need any further encouragement, and all three ponies ducked away from the glowing stone. A sound akin to a grinding millstone began to rumble from deep within the bowels of the cliff face, and as the explorers watched in amazement, the light coming from the door faded just as quickly as it had begun. The door, however, had developed a split down the middle and was slowly opening, the grinding sound echoing from within the hidden chamber beyond. After several seconds, the heavy stone door lay wide open.
Daring and Annals were transfixed, but it was Tectonic who broke the silence once the mechanical motion was complete. “Nifty,” he managed to breathe out.
“Indeed,” agreed the quiet voice of the professor.
Daring quickly turned to the geologist and said, “Tec, I'm gonna need you to head back to camp. Let the rest of the team know that we're through the door. Annals and I are gonna head inside and take a look around, alright?”
Tectonic gave a quick salute. “Sure thing, Daring. I'll send 'em your way soon as I can.” He turned to follow the narrow canyon back to their temporary home.
“Oh, and Tec?” The stallion turned back to Daring. She smiled and said, “Thanks. I owe you one.”
The gruff earth pony returned the smile and said, “Don't mention it. Always glad to help out.”
As the third member of their party picked his way out of the rocky crevice, Annals said, “Well, my dear. Shall we away, then?”
Daring grinned a toothy grin, her eyes wild with anticipation. “Sounds like a good idea to me, professor.”
On the other side of the world, as new possibilities were opening up for the archeologists, an old routine was in full swing for one city-dwelling mare. Celestia's sun had fallen below the Manehattan skyline a few hours ago, and with the onset of twilight, Mare-Do-Well found herself sitting in one of the city's seedier watering holes, a half-empty glass of cider – non-alcoholic, but not if anypony asked – on the greasy counter before her and a set of saddlebags on the floor beside her stool. From a rickety wooden player in the corner, a record with more scratches than grooves sputtered out a song that everypony would forget in a few minutes anyway, if they could even hear it over the ambiance of clinking glasses, loud conversation, and raucous laughter echoing through the confined spaces of the bar. The attention of the patron ponies was not drawn to the inconspicuous and non-costumed mare who occupied an unstable bar stool; this, much to her delight, gave her ample opportunity to pony-watch, one of her favorite pastimes in this city of thousands. It was more than a mere habit, though. A pony who kept her eyes and ears open could find trouble brewing just about anywhere in the chaotic metropolis of Manehattan, especially in a place like this.
As impolite a practice as eavesdropping was, Mare-Do-Well had quickly learned that even a few lines gleaned from a conversation could prevent crimes or catastrophes. Tonight, however, it seemed nopony had anything interesting to talk about. The table of stallions a few feet away was loudly shouting about the hoofball game the night before, a multitude of empty glass mugs rattling each time one of them pounded the table to emphasize his point. Next to them, Mare-Do-Well saw a young couple talking heatedly; upon further focus, she heard something about moving in together. The older stallion several stools down from her at the counter wasn't talking at all, merely pondering his still-full glass with a deep, frowning gaze, as though the secrets of Equestria were contained within the transparent, amber liquid. Elsewhere, males tried their luck with much younger females, with varying degrees of success, often dependent upon the amount of liquid courage consumed by both parties, and a group of middle-aged mares at a booth along the wall lodged various complaints against their husbands, their fillies, and their unfulfilled potential, all fueled by the companionship of hard liquor.
Mare-Do-Well turned back to her own mug with a slight smile. Perhaps tonight would be a calm night, at least by Manehattan's standards. She raised her glass, closed her eyes, and downed the remaining cider in one go, its coolness serving as a calming agent and a refreshing lift for her dry throat. As she set down the empty glass, a male voice suddenly came from her left. “Man, you can really put it away.”
Her smile was gone as quickly as it had come. Slowly, she turned to face the source of her interruption. An off-white pegasus stallion who couldn't have been more than twenty was leaning awkwardly on the counter, one hoof propped against his head, and a grin that was trying to be alluring – but failing miserably – was plastered on his face. He continued, “Maybe I can buy you another?”
A sigh came from Mare-Do-Well. “Thanks, but that was my last one.” She hopped off the stool, put on her saddlebags, and began to trot toward the exit.
He stepped almost directly in her way. “At least let me introduce myself.” This one was persistent. “I'm Lightning Rod, the weather pony. Maybe you've heard of me.” Silence. “Anyway...uh...that's who I am. And you are?”
“Not interested.”
Mare-Do-Well pushed past the eager but foolhardy young stallion and made her way to the door. As she pushed it open, the male pegasus called out, “Can't you at least tell me your name?”
The stare she gave him made his heart jump to his throat. A voice at least an octave lower than her usual tone emanated from the mare. “No.” Without another word, she left the bar where the denied stallion stood dumbstruck and staring at the door as it thudded closed.
The chill of the night air was a welcome relief to Mare-Do-Well after her run-in with the young buck who had obviously had one too many. As often as ponies hit on her when she was out at a bar, she had become quite adept at turning them away without resorting to bucking them square in the face. Well, except for that one time, but that guy had drunk an unbelievable amount of hard cider that had made him impossible to talk to or reason with. The bartender, shocked to see a mare knock a large, muscular stallion completely unconscious, had been surprisingly understanding about the whole affair, only asking for enough bits to cover the cost of the broken table...and chairs...and three glass mugs. Mare-Do-Well chuckled at the memory as she trotted down the sidewalk.
Very few ponies were out this evening. The few that Mare-Do-Well encountered didn't give her a second look as they either walked briskly past her or stood on the pavement engaged in conversations or waiting for the arrival of something or somepony underneath dim street lamps. Even in this neighborhood that was known to have a higher crime rate, it seemed that some nights didn't harbor as much potential for unsavory activities, and while Mare-Do-Well certainly welcomed the idea of a peaceful and uneventful stroll, her eyes were sharp and her ears were perked up. Nopony would recognize the mysterious hero of Manehattan without her costume, but she never ceased her vigilant watch over the city she called home.
Despite her calm, unflinching demeanor, a thought lurked at the back of Mare-Do-Well's mind. In her head, the encounter with the stallion in the bar replayed itself, and one line stuck out: “Can't you at least tell me your name?” Her response had been curt, meant to discourage further pursuit by the young male, but there had been a burning in her chest as she had made her quick exit from the alcoholic establishment. Why? What was so strange about that question? It seemed like a normal thing for a pony to ask a prospective partner, or even a key detail of any interpony communication.
Mare-Do-Well flinched. A chord had been struck; she knew exactly why his question had affected her so much. A sharp pain flared up behind her eyes as she walked, a little faster now, in a direction that didn't matter, toward a destination even she didn't know. How long has it been? The thought arose unbidden. She shook her head quickly, attempting to dislodge it. How long since... Her eyes shut tight for a moment, and she froze on the sidewalk. ...since I've talked to anypony? The pain in her head intensified, building up heat that threatened to spill out from her eyes. Since I've told anypony else my name?
“What are you talking about? You're the Mysterious Mare-Do-Well. That's all everypony needs to know,” she muttered under her breath, even though nopony else was within earshot.
Is it? That's not your real name.
“It's the only name that matters.” There was an edge of ferocity in her voice. “It's who I am now.”
Do you even remember?
Images flickered across her subconscious. A smiling mare's face; a flash of silvery metal; blood on a tiny, quivering hoof; screaming until she could no longer breathe. She heard a voice, soft and sweet like a breeze through an open window on a stifling summer's day. It was calling her...it was telling her something...but the name it was using wasn't hers. She blinked back the initial onrush of tears and hoisted her head high. “I don't need to remember,” she said in a voice that shook just enough to betray her nerves. “That's not me. That's not who I need to be.” All trepidation was gone as she continued, “Mare-Do-Well is what matters now. It's what this city needs.” She began to trot again, then added in a whisper, “It's what I need.” The street echoed with her hoofsteps as she plodded into the night.
***
Several hours of waiting and watching on the street level produced no excitement, and the night soon found Mare-Do-Well back at her apartment, a modest affair in a building that had seen better days, but was nowhere near as run-down as some of the high-rises that miraculously still stood closer to the Southern District. She was lying prone on a lumpy mattress on a bed frame that had retained its stability remarkably well for how old it was. She was not asleep, however, as evidenced by both the subtle glow of the gas lamp on her nightstand and the squeaks and squawks of the ancient radio receiver attempting to pick up some type of signal. The pony, still without her trademark costume, fidgeted with the dials on the front of the receiver, her efforts met with only further frustration. At last, a sound that mercifully wasn't static came forth from the speakers. Mare-Do-Well grinned and perked up, eager to listen.
A mare's voice droned out, “Units in the Horseshoe Lane area, we have a report of a missing cat. Anypony wanna take that one?” Mare-Do-Well sighed loudly. The radio remained silent for several minutes; it seemed that even the Manehattan police ponies were having a quiet night. She was about to click off the device and succumb to sleep when the radio crackled to life again. “Attention units in the Unicorn Harbor area, reports of a disturbance at Seapony Dockworks. Any available units, please respond.”
Mare-Do-Well would normally have left this task to the authorities; however, the slow night had made her restless and desperate for action. Besides, the docks were not a far distance from her building. Quickly, she retrieved her costume from her closet and slipped silently out the window, clambering up the fire escape quietly so as not to wake the other tenants. Access to the roof was swiftly gained.
As an earth pony, Mare-Do-Well had been born with naturally strong legs. This attribute proved most helpful when she needed to navigate through Manehattan quickly, as most of the buildings were placed close enough together that a mighty leap would often carry her from one to the next. On a cool night like this one, she especially enjoyed the sensation of soaring between the tall structures, not daring to look down as the chilly air flowed beneath her athletic body. For a pony who had been confined to the ground for her entire life, the feeling of flying, even temporarily, exhilarated her as she leaped from rooftop to rooftop on her way to the docks.
Soon, the residential and commercial buildings began to give way to the lower roofs of the dock warehouses. Making use of a drainpipe, Mare-Do-Well slid down the side of the last apartment complex and dropped into the dark alley. Under the dim lighting of the street lamps, she darted from cover to cover, peeking out to make sure nopony was around before ducking into the shadow of another warehouse. There were no signs of life until she arrived at the back door of the Seapony Dockworks. She peered in through the window, but it was too dark to make anything out, and the bulb above the door looked to be burnt out. Mare-Do-Well did a double take. The bulb wasn't burnt out at all; it appeared to have been shattered. Her heart quickened. She shook her head. Perhaps it had been broken for a while; after all, accidents happened. One clumsy janitor with an errant broom handle could have led to-
Something crunched underneath Mare-Do-Well's hoof. Tiny shards of glass lay scattered on the ground near the exit door, and she quickly withdrew her hoof. “So,” she whispered, “the bulb was broken recently. The perps may still be nearby.” Her thoughts were interrupted by bright, flashing lights pulsating in the alleys on either side of the Dockworks. The Manehattan police had arrived, and rather quickly. She crept into the nearest alley and along the side of the warehouse, then poked her head around the corner to survey the scene.
The police cart was parked on the opposite side of the street from the entrance to the Seapony Dockworks, its lights illuminating the dark city sky, while a uniformed stallion with a thick brown mustache strode slowly toward the front door. He gave several swift knocks and stood back. Mare-Do-Well waited, but then almost gasped when the door opened and two ponies stepped out. They were dressed in similar light green vests with name tags prominently displayed on them. The smaller of the two, a mare with a gruff voice, was the first to speak. “There a problem, offisah?”
The officer tipped his hat and said, “Received a call earlier about a disturbance. Everything all right this evening?”
The same pony replied with a chuckle, “Oh yeah, that. Well, y'see, me an' my co-workah was just lookin' aftah tha place, like we's supposed to. Heard a noise, went ta look, and I sees a couple o' guys tryin' ta bust in tha back way. I t'ink we scared 'em off, but not before my not-so-bright partnah here goes 'n' pushes tha alahm button. Got a lil' spooked, didn't ya?” The mare elbowed her companion in the ribs. All he did in response was grunt and offer a quick nod. “That's all, offisah. No need ta worry no more.”
After a poorly-disguised yawn, the police pony said, “Did they actually get inside, or take anything of value?”
“No way, no how. I saw 'em out back and gave 'em a good yell, an' those mugs ran off like scared lil' rabbits.”
The officer said after another, longer yawn, “So what you're telling me is that there was an attempted break-in that didn't result in anything getting broken, stolen, or really, anything interesting at all?” Both of the other ponies nodded. The police pony muttered something unintelligible, then said, “Then I suppose there's no reason for me to stick around. You two stay safe, and call us if anything else happens tonight.” He abruptly turned and trotted back to the police cart, where he switched off the lights, hitched himself up, and galloped off into the night.
Mare-Do-Well frowned. Law enforcement at its finest. She watched as the two ponies glanced at each other before heading back inside the front door. Their explanation should have been satisfactory; everything they'd said seemed to fit, to make sense. An attempted burglary thwarted before it had begun, that's all. One pressing question, however, kept Mare-Do-Well from turning and disappearing into the night: “What about the broken bulb?” The door closed behind the security ponies, and Mare-Do-Well's heart began to increase its pace for the second time that night. Something wasn't right. She could feel it. As quickly and quietly as possible, she went back around the side of the building and returned to the back door. She placed her ear against it and heard nothing from the inside. Her hoof grasped the handle and turned it slowly, and she was relieved to find that it wasn't locked. In a few seconds, she was inside, the door shut gingerly behind her. Thanks to the thin material covering her eyes, they didn't take long to adjust to the darkness of the building's interior, and she looked around to get her bearings.
Seapony Dockworks was not a very large warehouse, but that certainly didn't mean that their business was struggling. There were pallets stuffed into nearly every spare square inch of floor space, as well as stacked on top of one another. Atop the pallets lay crates and boxes of various shapes and sizes, each carefully marked to indicate either its destination or point of origin. Mare-Do-Well grinned under her mask as she realized how simple it would be to hide in this vast expanse of shipped merchandise. The large bay door used for loading and unloading was built into the wall on her right, while ahead of her – past the sea of pallets – was a small front office, out of which the two security ponies had likely emerged. She began to pick her way through the stacks towards the office.
Suddenly, a voice broke the silence. Mare-Do-Well froze, then quickly stepped around a large wooden crate so that it was between her and the front of the building. She couldn't hear what was being said, but she recognized the sound of the smaller mare who had done all the talking during the interaction with the police pony. A beam of light tore through the darkness and zigzagged across the ceiling for a moment before lowering down and becoming a dull glow behind the boxes nearest the office. Mare-Do-Well heard hoofsteps and muffled conversation becoming fainter, and she dared to peek around the crate. The glow of what she assumed was a flashlight was by the bay door now. She moved deftly around and through the pallets, trying to get closer to hear what the two ponies were saying. Finally, she paused to listen.
“Son of a manticore! This one isn't tha right one eithah!” cried the mare.
Another voice said, “Boss said is here. We find.” It was the first time she had heard the taller stallion speak; she thought the accent sounded Germane.
“Outta these hundreds o' boxes, we got ta find one? Ya think we're just gonna turn around and it'll be in front o' us, do ya? This could take all night!”
“Less time talk, more time look.” The mare grumbled something incoherent, but didn't raise any further objections. Mare-Do-Well heard the two of them begin to inspect each of the packages, while she took a moment to comprehend what they said. Boss? Right one? If she hadn't been sure before, now Mare-Do-Well was certain that these two were anything but security guards. But what were they after? Her eyes fell on the office, several yards forward and to her right. She'd heard the other mare say something about an alarm button; if she could find it, she could get the police back to the scene to apprehend these two. Watching each hoof closely so as to avoid a misstep, Mare-Do-Well made her way to the office and ducked inside.
The small room contained several desks with magic-powered consoles capable of keeping track of the company's inventory, as well as a window that allowed the workers inside to keep tabs on the main body of the warehouse. It also had an oblong table flanked by chairs that looked very uncomfortable, a ceiling fan with one blade missing, and a water fountain in the corner. None of these things were what Mare-Do-Well noticed first. Her gaze was instantly drawn to the two prone ponies lying on the floor next to the table. Both were unicorns, though one was an elderly male, while the other was a younger mare, and each one wore a light green vest, though it appeared that their name tags had been torn off. Mare-Do-Well quickly leaned down and put her head to the chest of the stallion. Thankfully, a soft rhythm indicated the presence of a heartbeat, and a quick check of the mare revealed that she, too, was alive but unconscious. Next, the costumed mare looked around the office for any sign of the alarm button. A thorough search showed no sign of one. She scratched her head with one hoof. “Then how did they call...wait,” she whispered. “It must be somewhere else in here.” With one more glance at the two limp ponies, she left the office and returned to the warehouse floor.
From the sound of things, the other two guests hadn't made any progress in locating the item they were after. Mare-Do-Well circled around the outside of the stacked pallets, trying to stay as far away from the voices and the flashlight beam as possible. She scanned the walls for any sign of the button. A shout suddenly rose from the direction of the other two ponies, followed soon after by the crack of splintering wood. With a start, Mare-Do-Well realized that the fraudulent guards had likely found what they sought, and it was only a matter of minutes before they took the missing item and vanished. Frantically, she turned the corner to face the wall with the bay door, looking for any sort of indicator that would reveal the location of the elusive alarm. No such thing was on the left side of the door, so she ran to the right side, her hoofsteps drowned out by the increasing volume of the crate on the other side of the warehouse being torn apart. Finally, her eye caught sight of a small panel on the wall, adorned with several buttons. A large round one stuck out at the top center of the panel, and she mashed her hoof against it.
The bay door creaked and moaned as it began to rise.
Mare-Do-Well's heart stopped for just a moment, then began to beat again at a pace that would make even the most durable marathon runners jealous. From across the warehouse, all sounds of breaking wood ceased, only to be replaced by raised voices and the clatter of hooves moving in her direction. She glanced at the panel again and saw a smaller button beneath the one she had just pressed, the word “ALARM” printed next to it. If danger had not been impending, she would have facehoofed; as it was, she quickly pressed it twice – for good measure – before turning swiftly and dashing along the wall towards the rear of the warehouse, her purple cape flowing behind her. She rounded the corner to the final stretch, only to come face to face with the large stallion.
Both ponies were taken aback at the sight of each other, but it was Mare-Do-Well who recovered first. With a swift plant of her hoof, she sprang in the direction of the hefty male, intent on knocking him off-balance so she could get past him. That plan didn't work out as she'd hoped, though, when her head made contact with what felt like a wall of solid rock, and she bounced off the stallion and slid backwards on the floor, dazed. Through fuzzy vision, she could see him grin. Behind him, the smaller mare appeared, who took one look at Mare-Do-Well and said, “What in tha hay is that?”
Without removing his gaze from the costumed pony, the stallion replied, “Silly pony. Thinks she is hero. Go get package, take to boss. I handle silly pony.”
Flat on her back, Mare-Do-Well watched the mare turn and head back in the direction of their bounty. The big male stepped forward until he stood beside her. Without a word, he raised a hoof above her head. That was exactly what she'd been waiting for. As he brought the hoof down toward her face, she rolled away from him at the last possible moment, then quickly spun around to sweep that same hoof out from under the shocked stallion. He fell forward and smacked his jaw on the floor of the warehouse as Mare-Do-Well sprang to her hooves and ran toward the crate that had held the interest of her attackers. She arrived just in time to see the other mare hoist what looked like a small strongbox onto her back. Their eyes met for just a moment before Mare-Do-Well sprang towards the thief.
A bright light was in her eyes. She skidded to a halt and held a hoof up to shield herself, but her vision still swam as her dark-adjusted irises struggled to shrink down to a normal size again. In her temporary blindness, she heard the mare say, “Fahget ya, ya crazy hero type!” and rapid hoofsteps moving toward the front of the building. As the female assailant ran, Mare-Do-Well heard her shout, “C'mon, big guy, we got tha thing, let's go!” A second set of hooves joined the first as both burglars soon burst through the front door.
It took a minute for Mare-Do-Well's eyes to readjust to see in the dark. By that time, the other two ponies were long gone. She had pressed the alarm button, so before long, the Manehattan police would be returning to Seapony Dockworks for the second time that night. That gave her a very short time to inspect the damaged crate. One side had been torn open roughly, the splintered fragments strewn about the surrounding floor. She inspected each side of the tall crate until she found what she was looking for: a label marked with two addresses. The return address was written in very fine print, but she saw that this particular package had been sent from outside Equestria, specifically the nation of Cameland. The address for the recipient was much more legible: “Manehattan University History Department.”
Mare-Do-Well's curiosity piqued. “Those two were after a...relic? An artifact from Cameland? But why? And they kept talking about 'the boss'...who are they working for?” She barely had time to mull the questions over in her head before she heard the sound of sirens on the approach. Quickly, she bolted out the back door of the warehouse and fled into the night. The next day, the police would receive an anonymous tip indicating possible suspects; for now, Mare-Do-Well had stumbled upon a mystery, and further investigation was on the horizon. Her heart pounded excitedly just thinking about it as she found her way back to the rooftops, leaping and bounding back to the simple comfort of her apartment. She barely had time to remove her outfit and put it away before the events of the day caught up to her body, and in sheer exhaustion, she threw herself onto the bed and buried her face in the pillow, her snoring muffled by her feather-filled companion.
Daring Do had been of the opinion for several years now that the pony film industry portrayed the professions of archaeologists and explorers like herself and Annals with an unhealthy amount of creative liberty. While it was true that she found herself in ancient ruins on a regular basis, not once had she run across any sort of primitive booby-traps or eternal beings guarding a powerful relic from olden times, protecting its secrets with tests of physical, mental, or even spiritual prowess. Not once in her short career had she ever needed to duck and roll past a series of swinging blades suspended from the ceiling, hop from one unstable stone to another over a river of molten lava, or face down a huddled mass of dark-robed cultists chanting the name of some mythical demigod of unspeakable evil power while wielding only a whip and her wits. In fact, if a film were made about her experiences in the field, she believed it wouldn't make any profit at all because the poor audience would be bored out of their skulls. The greatest obstacle that she had to overcome on a regular basis was excessive dust build-up in her lungs.
The tunnel that she and the professor were slowly walking through was no exception. The entryway was now far behind them, having opened into a narrow, cylindrical passage. Daring had retrieved portable lamps from her saddlebags and attached them to hers and Annals' pith helmets, and the small amount of light they produced was still more than enough to see that the air was thick with dust. The cloud seemed to increase in mass the further they delved into the cave. For a moment, her throat tickled, and she let out a gasping cough. From behind her, she heard Annals ask, “All right, my dear?”
Daring let out two more quick coughs, then said, “Just finding it a little hard to breathe in here, professor. You having the same problem back there?”
“I'm afraid so,” came the raspy reply. “Though I must say, I believe that the blame for our respiratory difficulties rests solely on our shoulders, or in this case, hooves.”
Daring looked down and understood the professor's implication. Her hoof looked like it had sunk nearly a half-inch into the floor, and when she lifted it up, tiny particles swirled up and joined the millions of others that already danced carefree around the two ponies. As uncomfortable as breathing was in this environment, it was still beautiful to Daring, in a strange, untamed way. This was ground upon which no pony had tread for longer than she knew, and the feelings of wonder and excitement at what awaited her further down this dark, dusty passage crept into the back of her mind and settled there like a familiar friend. Her thoughts were rudely interrupted by another fit of coughs. “Hold on, professor,” she muttered, and after a few seconds digging in her saddlebags, she found two small white masks, just large enough to cover a pony's mouth and filter out microscopic particles of dust and other unwanted contaminants. Daring and Annals affixed their masks, and with a nod to each other, continued down the tunnel, each inhalation considerably easier.
Their path had continued in a straight line ever since the entrance, and as they walked, both ponies had scanned the walls to either side for any signs of a branching passage. Not only had there been no deviations from their initial course, but as Daring paid close attention to the walls, no patterns emerged; she saw only a jagged rock face, devoid of any sort of inscriptions or carved images. A quick glance backward showed that the light from the door to the outside world had become barely visible. As the soft clip-clop of eight hooves echoed through the dimly-lit tunnel, Daring wondered how far the two of them would be venturing into the bowels of the rocky ravine.
Her answer came after several minutes of silent walking. The two ponies' helmet lamps brought the new obstruction into view: a wall of rock, matching the ones that had accompanied the archaeologists on either side of their dust-filled trek, both in composition and lack of any markings other than the same tired striation. Daring walked up to the blank obstacle. “This can't be the end of the line,” she said softly, her voice muffled by the mask but still audible.
The professor had stepped to her left, and he turned toward her quickly. “You're quite right about that, my dear. Come and have a look at this.”
He gestured a hoof, and she followed his outstretched appendage to the wall. Where there should have been just cave wall, a small hole, just big enough to accommodate a prone pony, had been carved out near the floor. Daring crouched down and peered into the opening. Her lamp caught no sign of a wall on the other side. She rose with a smile and said, “Good eye, Annals. So how about we continue this little spelunking adventure?”
Professor Annals responded with his own weak smile, barely visible behind his mask, “Not sure I'm fit enough to make my way through that tiny hole, Daring. Perhaps I ought to stay here this time.”
“Oh come on, professor,” she said with a playful hoof-punch to his shoulder. As she unlatched the strap of her saddlebags, she added, “You've come this far.”
“And it's as far as I care to go right now,” the older unicorn responded with an authoritative voice. “Please, Daring. I'm not in any shape to be squeezing down a tunnel that miniscule. Whatever's back there, it's on you to get to it, all right?”
The pegasus snorted. “Fine. If that's how you want it.” She handed her bags to the professor, stepped past him, and dropped to the cave floor again, ready to poke her head into the entrance of the new passageway. Just before she did, she felt a hoof on her haunch. She turned to look up at Annals' face, and his sad eyes softened her own gaze. “Don't worry, professor,” she said compassionately. “I'll be careful. I promise.”
“Please do, my dear. I'd hate to have to come in there after you.” His mask couldn't conceal his smile.
Daring chuckled, flashing one last grin at Annals before turning to face the opening. With grunts of effort, she worked her front hooves through, then her helmeted head, and her torso, making sure to keep her wings tucked close. The light from her helmet lamp flickered around the crawlspace, casting fleeting illumination around her cramped confines. She started to worm her way forward slowly, using her outstretched front hooves to assist in pulling the rest of her body. The rocky floor scraped the underside of her body, and the rough roof didn't do any wonders for her back either. It was certainly a tight fit, but she found that if she kept her breathing regular and her pace slow, she didn't experience any claustrophobia. While she hadn't been struck by the fear of small spaces before, this point in time seemed like a very bad moment for it to rear its ugly head. Finally, her entire body was wedged inside, and her rear hooves soon disappeared from Annals' view.
Each movement was an exertion as Daring inched her way forward. Sweat began to dribble from her forehead as she continued her slow crawl. Her mind began to drift slowly toward panic as the reality of her situation weighed on her, no matter how she tried to shake it off. An old fear crept into her already fragile thoughts: What if something goes wrong? She tried not to think about it, but that was becoming quite impossible. You'd be buried under a desert, in the middle of a country far from home, and nopony would ever find you. Daring gritted her teeth and pressed on, her eyes watching her hooves as they stretched out in front of her, then let her body catch up, then extended again. She dared not look up at the ceiling which was only inches from the top of her head...the ceiling that contains hundreds of tons of solid rock that could crush you in an instant. All it takes is one little slip and you're a goner. Perspiration soaked her brow now. She felt herself becoming a little dizzy. Perhaps just a moment's rest and she-
“No,” she whispered. The voice in her head fell silent. Exhaling, she lifted her eyes and looked down the narrow shaft as far as she could. Her heart skipped a beat when she glimpsed what appeared to be an opening. She scooted forward as quickly and carefully as possible, and to her great delight, her suspicions were confirmed after a few more yards. Her hooves gripped the ledge at the end of the tunnel, and with one more heave, she pulled her head out of the crawlspace and breathed a great sigh of relief. Finally, after several deep breaths, she lifted her head and began to investigate.
The floor was only a foot or so below where her hooves now dangled, so with a few more wiggles, Daring managed to extract herself from her narrow prison and was soon standing in the new room. Her light flickered around the room quickly. This room was large and circular, and the ceiling was taller than it had been in the main tunnel. The walls appeared to be featureless again, but something struck Daring as odd. After a moment, she realized what it was. While the sides of the entrance tunnel had been rough and rocky, the circumference of this room looked smooth; it almost seemed polished. She turned to the wall behind her and felt it with a tentative hoof. There didn't seem to be a single blemish anywhere on the surface of the stone other than the entrance to the passage that had brought her to this room. Then, she noticed that the floor was the same way: perfectly flat, almost like a roller rink. She leaned closer to the wall with her lamp. There was no color that she could see in the rock face, only a pitch-black that seemed...unnatural, somehow. In fact, everywhere she looked – walls, ceiling, floor – was that same deep black. She felt as though she had been swallowed by some horrific dark beast and was now sealed within its stomach, awaiting her imminent digestion. Daring shuddered at the thought, then began to scan the room again. On her second pass, the lamp caught something in its glare. She stopped moving and focused her gaze.
An object appeared to be floating, suspended in space in the center of the chamber. Daring gasped, then stepped toward it slowly, her hoofsteps echoing through the wide open space. As she drew nearer to the floating thing, she saw that it was, in fact, resting atop a thin, cylinder-shaped platform; she hadn't spotted it before because its color and sheen blended perfectly with the rest of the room. She glanced backward and was relieved to see that the hole she had crept through was still in the wall. Her means of return confirmed, she turned toward the mysterious object and inspected it closer.
Her breath caught in her throat. On the black cylinder that rose from the floor sat a tiny model of a pony, specifically a standing pegasus with its wings outstretched and its head raised in what looked like a proud stance. What Daring noticed most of all, though, was the material it was made of. The entire figurine was transparent like glass, and as her light shone on it, the inside of the pegasus seemed to glow with a brilliant, white fire. It did not reflect the light, however; the figure almost seemed to absorb it. Daring reached out a hoof to feel it. To her surprise, it was not hot or even warm, but rather cool to her touch. Slowly, delicately, she reached up and extracted it from its resting place in the center of the room. It was heavier than she had expected, but she was able to tuck it under her wing without too much strain. With a satisfied grin, she turned back toward the tunnel opening.
Suddenly, from behind her, she heard a loud grinding sound. She turned quickly to see that the now-empty pedestal was rapidly sinking into the floor. Her eyes widened as she watched it disappear into the smooth blackness and become part of the seamless room. She quickly placed a protective hoof over her eyes and turned her head away, crouching down as all her worst expectations flooded to the forefront of her mind. She gritted her teeth and awaited whatever terrible thing she had unleashed.
All was silent in the chamber.
After almost half a minute, Daring cracked open one eye. She was still in the black room; her helmet light still flickered atop her head; her new discovery was still safe beneath her wing. A breath she didn't realize she'd been holding escaped her in one long sigh. “Don't know what I was so worried about in the first place,” she muttered as she trotted back to the crawlspace, stealing one last glance at the empty black room before deftly stuffing herself into the narrow passage once again. Her spirits had been lifted by the discovery of the treasure that now lay securely pressed against her body by her wing, and the return trip through the claustrophobic tunnel seemed like it took almost no time.
Her hoof had no sooner poked through the opening on the other side when it was grasped by the vermilion hoof of her unicorn friend, and with a huff, he helped to pull her out of the crawlspace and to her feet. As he hooved Daring's saddlebags back to her, he said, “It does my heart good to see you come out in one piece, my dear. I must admit, I had my concerns when you didn't return right away.”
Daring furrowed her brow as she refastened the strap of her bags to her body. “What do you mean, professor? I couldn't have been gone that long.”
“Oh, you weren't,” he responded quickly, “but that certainly didn't stop an old pony from worrying.” As she chuckled, he continued, “That's quite enough from my end, I think. Tell me, was it worth the harrowing journey?”
She smiled wide enough for it to show behind her mask. “Let's head back to camp. I can tell you about it on the way.”
The two ponies trotted back down the main tunnel as Daring recounted her experiences in the crawlspace and the room beyond. When she reached the point where she discovered the figurine, she carefully extracted it from beneath her wing and held it up in her hoof for the professor to see. His eyes widened as he drew his face closer to the miniature pegasus, which quickly regained its glow as Annals' light shone into it. He whispered, “Exquisite.”
Daring smiled and said, “Couldn't agree more, professor. I can't wait to inspect it-” A noise from the door to the outside interrupted her. She and Professor Annals turned and saw several shadowy shapes heading their way down the tunnel. As they drew closer, Daring recognized Tectonic Shift and other members of the expedition. “Back so soon, Tec?” she quipped. “Thought you would've had some lunch and a nap before hiking back up here.”
“It was a quick lunch, and a cat nap,” he responded with a humorous tone. With a quick nod to the professor, he asked, “You two find anythin' in here?”
Daring nodded her head toward the tiny pegasus, which she still held in her hoof. Tectonic, much like Annals, leaned close to inspect it further, and he reacted much as the professor had with a one-word appraisal: “Nifty.” The other ponies that had accompanied the geologist down the passageway maneuvered themselves to get a better look at the entrancing figurine that Daring held.
“'Nifty' indeed, my boy,” said Professor Annals. “Daring and I look forward to studying this particular find with gusto and fervor, as it were.”
Tectonic stood silent and blinked twice, then said, “Yeah...sure. Yo, Daring,” he said, “where'd you find that little thing anyways?”
“Oh, I just work with him,” she responded with a wink and a nod toward Annals. Tectonic let loose a quick laugh, which Daring soon joined; even the professor cracked a smile at the ribbing. Daring continued, “The entrance is just down here. I'll show you.” She tucked the figurine gently into her saddlebag and began to walk back to the rear of the cave. Tectonic motioned the other ponies to follow him, and the group trotted behind the pegasus, Annals trailing behind.
It only took a minute to reach the back wall of the tunnel. Daring turned back to Tectonic and pointed with her hoof toward the wall. “It's through there. You might want to send one of your smaller associates, though, Tec...not sure you'd fit through there unless you started laying off the sweets.”
Tectonic smiled and walked to where Daring had indicated. His look quickly shifted to one of confusion. “Uh...Daring? 'm I missin' somethin' here?”
She sighed and said, “I swear, Tec, you wouldn't recognize your own hooves if they weren't attached. It's right...” Daring followed the perplexed gaze of her earth pony companion. “...there?” The word almost died on its way out of her mouth as she stared at the wall. The hole was no more. All that met her gaze was a solid mass of rock. She whipped her head back around to face the other ponies. “But I just...not even half an hour ago...”
Tectonic raised one hoof in a shrug. “Not sure what you're talkin' about, Daring, but I sure as oats don't see nothin' there 'cept a wall o' stone.”
Daring's voice was raised as she responded, “But there was a hole, and a tunnel! I crawled through it!” Her gaze caught sight of the professor as he caught up with the rest. “Professor! You saw me go into the crawlspace!”
He trotted up, his face bearing a look of concern. “Of course, my dear. Whatever is the problem?” She pointed again, more vigorously this time, and his eyes widened as he finally saw what everypony else already had. “Well now, that is very interesting.”
“You saw it too, professor?” asked Tectonic. Behind him, the other ponies muttered softly among themselves.
“Indeed I did, my boy,” Annals responded softly. “I didn't go through, though...only Daring did.”
“Well, I dunno what t' tell ya,” said Tectonic slowly, “but there's no hole there now, and just by lookin' at it, I don't think there's ever been one in this wall. Be almost impossible to make one and have it be safe, anyhow. You two are sure 'bout what ya saw?”
Daring practically shouted, “Yes!” while the professor merely nodded his head, his eyes fixed on the spot where he had seen Daring enter the rock face and re-emerge some time later.
Tectonic waved his hoof defensively. “Look, I ain't sayin' I don't believe ya, but I gotta go on what I see in front o' me. Now, me an' th' others here are gonna look around, and maybe we'll find somethin' 'bout a hole, maybe we won't. We'll let ya know if we do, but right now, I think you two should head back, maybe get some food or somethin'.”
Daring opened her mouth to object, but felt the professor's hoof on her shoulder. She turned an indignant face to look at him, but he was facing the geologist. “A capital idea, Tectonic,” he said in a voice that sounded too cheery. “Come along, my dear, I am rather famished.” He started back toward the cave entrance, his firm hoof nearly pushing the pegasus in front of him.
After they were separated from the group, Daring wheeled around to face the unicorn. In a hushed but fierce tone, she hissed, “What the hay was that, Annals? We can't leave now, not after what just happened!”
“On the contrary, Daring. I believe it to be our most prudent course of action at this juncture.” His voice had almost as much bite in it as hers, and she was silenced by his retort. He saw the confusion in her eyes and continued, “Think for a moment. Gaining access to this cave in the first place requires clever problem-solving; then, we come upon a passageway to another chamber, a rather odd-looking chamber from your description, whereupon you discover a brilliant artifact that nopony's probably glimpsed in thousands of years. Upon your return, the wall which had previously played host to said passageway suddenly reverts to solid rock, and nopony – not even you or I, who found it in the first place – can see even so much as a trace of evidence that there ever was a hole. None of this seems at all mysterious to you?”
Daring opened her mouth, paused, then finally said, “It's completely mind-blowing, that's what it is. What do you suppose we should do about it, professor?”
Annals stroked his chin slowly. After a moment of pondering, he said, “It is my sincere belief that this entire sequence of events hinges on the item which now rests comfortably inside your saddlebag, my dear. Any questions that have arisen concerning this rather curious state of affairs may be solved if we examine it very, very closely.” His stomach rumbled loudly, eliciting a rather sheepish grin from the unicorn. “That is, of course, after we acquire some sustenance.”
Daring's own stomach followed suit, and the two ponies laughed briefly. She said, “Sounds like a great idea to me, professor. Let's get back to camp.” She sighed, then added, “Maybe we can make sense of this whole thing.”
“I sincerely hope so.” Professor Annals gestured in the direction of their exit. “After you, my dear.”
The thud of a bass drum rattled in Mare-Do-Well's hooves, each beat sending a tingling sensation reverberating through her legs, up to her shoulders and haunches, and finally to her ribcage, where her heart kept its pace inside a cage of bone as it mimicked the steady rhythm that pulsed from her radio. Each ripple of audio-produced pleasure that tore through her tensed body was counteracted by a sharp ache, a twinge of painful pressure in each forelimb as her body was hoisted up and lowered down in time with the pounding put forth by her cheap but effective sound system. Everything about her was steady: the movement of each push-up, coordinated with the music of The Whoof that filled her apartment and her head; each breath, drawn in during two full motions that brought her from the floor to an angle above it and back down again, then released during the next two; each beat of her hard-working heart as it sent vital blood coursing through her sculpted body. Streams of sweat trailed down from her dampened mane, across her forehead, around her eyes, and onto the bridge of her nose, where they dripped off or were sent flying across the room by the vigor of her exercise. Her mind was wracked with an equal mix of pleasure and pain, but she pushed those conflicting emotions away in favor of a more linear pattern of thought: One hundred eighty-two, one hundred eighty-three, one hundred eighty-four...
Most of her daily routines were boring, nothing more than tasks that she had carried out so often that they had been permanently ingrained into her brain. This, however, was anything but mundane. Mare-Do-Well welcomed each day with vigor, mostly for the promise of an exercise regimen that would push her muscles, her internal organs, her entire being close to its limit. She had a very hard time understanding why many ponies, mares especially, shunned the practice of working out regularly; the completion of a particularly grueling session left her feeling more refreshed than anything else she had experienced up to this point in her life. For Mare-Do-Well, though, regular recreation meant something even more. Every ounce of adrenaline that pumped through her body reminded her of the passion she felt on a night-by-night basis, and the familiar, intense feeling of frightened excitement told the story of a pony who was ready, willing, and able to venture into the most dangerous parts of Manehattan to make it a safer place to live.
One hundred ninety-nine, two hundred. Her push-ups complete, Mare-Do-Well stood up on all four hooves and stretched them lightly, allowing herself a chance to catch her breath. After several deep drafts drawn in through her nostrils and expelled slowly out of her mouth, she trotted over to a thick, black leather bag suspended from her ceiling that bore a crudely-painted profile of a pony with an eye patch and gritted teeth, some of which were missing. Mare-Do-Well turned her back to the bag, bent her front legs low to the floor, and bucked at the picture, first with her left hind leg, then her right, and then both simultaneously. Each satisfying sequence of “thump-thump-THWACK” came in time with the still-blaring music, and soon wicked guitar riffs blended with swift strikes against leather to produce a rhythmic symphony that lifted Mare-Do-Well's spirits, along with her pulse rate.
Nearly an hour later, Mare-Do-Well stood underneath a steady jet of hot water in her shower, and a thick curtain of steam swirled around the confined tile space and into her eager lungs. Aches and pains from the day's exercises were relaxed by the sensation of the scalding liquid as it flowed down her entire body, spreading heat from the tips of her ears to her hooves. Swiftly, she scrubbed the day's dirt and grime from her coat and rinsed out her mane, then took a few minutes longer to enjoy the feel of the water before shutting it off. With a slight shiver, she retrieved her nearby towel and dried herself off thoroughly before stepping out of the shower. A quick brush of her mane and tail left her looking presentable, although she smiled at the thought that it wouldn't matter where she was going. Tonight, she had an interview to conduct.
The break-in at Seapony Dockworks had been five nights ago. Aside from a short blurb in the Manehattan Daily, Mare-Do-Well had neither heard nor seen any indication that the crime was close to being solved, instead reading the same tired line of an “ongoing investigation.” Following her usual practice, she had typed a quick note describing her encounter with the perpetrators, which she had left in the police station's mailbox. In most situations, she would have left the resolution of the case to the Manehattan police investigators; her involvement often didn't go beyond capturing criminals in the act or providing enough clues to the authorities – anonymously, of course – that they could work the rest out themselves. This particular incident, however, struck a nerve. Too many things about it didn't add up. The two thieves had repeatedly mentioned a “boss,” and their entire purpose in breaking into the warehouse had been to locate one specific crate, even though the building was probably packed with valuable items that were in the process of being shipped. Not only that, but the crate that they had destroyed and then ransacked had been sent from the distant country of Cameland on its way to the Manehattan University History Department; Mare-Do-Well could only guess at its contents. The final thing that seemed strange about the whole situation was the two ponies who had performed the nefarious deed. While the large stallion had come across as a professional, considering his dedication to the task at hand and his rather impressive build, the smaller mare criminal didn't seem like anything of the sort, even if she had convinced the officer at the scene of their innocence. Who could have hired those two to carry out his or her dirty work was beyond Mare-do-Well.
As uninformative as the newspaper piece had been, though, one detail that she hoped would prove helpful was the statement from the University's History Department. Her copy of the Manehattan Daily was still close at hoof, so she retrieved it and opened to the story, reading aloud, “'The dean of the History Department, Dr. Brier, was quoted as saying, “My faculty and I plan to cooperate with the police fully in this investigation.” When questioned about the stolen contents, he declined further comment, but his office informed us later in a statement that the missing item was highly valuable and that they hoped for its swift and safe return.' But why?” mused Mare-Do-Well. “Why not tell the media what it is?” Her brow furrowed. A quick glance out the window showed that Celestia's sun was rapidly disappearing behind the distant skyscrapers, and Mare-Do-Well quickly gathered her costume from her closet and donned it. As she made her usual exit from her apartment building by means of the fire escape, she grinned underneath her mask. Perhaps the night would bring some of the answers she sought.
***
Careful observations over the past two days had given her insight into the habits of one Dr. Brier, specifically at the later hours of the evening. While on the weekdays, most of the faculty from his department departed for their homes at around 9 o'clock, the dean stayed in his office for about an hour after that before he also left. As Mare-Do-Well arrived at the Manehattan University campus, slipping silently among the shadows of each building, the light coming from the dean's office on the top floor of the three-story History wing and the absence of illumination from any of the other rooms below or to the side of his told her that tonight was no exception. She crept up to the mostly-empty structure, her head darting left and right as she scanned the darkened campus for any signs of security. Satisfied that nopony else was nearby, she nudged the side door open and ducked inside.
The dim corridors of the History building gave testament to the late hour, as all the classrooms and lecture halls on either side of the main hall were dark, and even some of the ceiling lights had been shut off earlier in the evening. Mare-Do-Well made her way quickly to the stairwell near the rear of the wing and began her ascent. Her hooves were padded by her costume, but she still heard each step all too clearly. At each landing, she glanced backwards, but she saw nopony else. Finally, she gained access to the third floor, and she softly padded her way to the dean's office. She drew in a deep breath and raised her hoof, knocking several times in quick succession on the thick wooden door. A cough came from inside, followed by a rough stallion's voice saying, “Just a minute.” After another cough and some incoherent mumbling, she heard the sound of a squeaking desk chair, then hooves walking on thin carpet until they paused in front of the door. A lock clicked, and the door swung open slowly as the dean said, “Now what do you wa-” A dark gray earth pony stallion with a balding white mane and matching beard came into view. Dr. Brier's eyes widened when he saw the pony waiting for him outside his office.
Years of experience had familiarized Mare-Do-Well with this reaction to her costumed appearance, and she quickly wedged herself into the room, her forehoof holding the door open even as the dean attempted to slam it shut. He released the door and stepped back toward his desk, never taking his eyes from Mare-Do-Well while he retreated quickly, his mouth trembling as he attempted to stammer something out. The purple-clad pony stepped inside and sealed them both in the room with a swift kick to the door, then began to advance upon the stunned dean. He quickly looked around the room, then turned and reached for the phone on his desk with both front hooves. The costumed mare was quicker; his outstretched hooves were suddenly pinned to his desktop by her much stronger foreleg. Faster than Brier could react, Mare-Do-Well swept his left hoof behind his back and pressed her front leg into his back, pushing his face against the table as he shouted in surprise. He swiveled his head back toward Mare-Do-Well and finally managed to croak out, “Who...are you?”
When she spoke, she made sure that her voice was low and gruff, enough of a deviation from her normal speech that it made recognition nearly impossible. “I'll tell you, but you have to cooperate. Deal?”
His countenance instantly hardened. “Why should I cooperate with some foal in a Nightmare Night get-up, thinks she can bust in here and do whatever she wants?”
Even though he couldn't see it, Mare-Do-Well raised an eyebrow. This guy's not gonna be easy, she thought. She addressed the dean slowly, “I may be able to help you.”
He spat back, “I don't need your help, freak. You better get out of my office right now, or else.” With grunts of effort, he vainly struggled to loosen himself from her hold.
She responded, “You're not really in a position to tell me what to do, are you?”
“Said the big, tough mare who's too scared to let anypony else see her face.”
Mare-Do-Well took a deep breath. “Perhaps if you listen, you might be interested in what I have to say.” She infused as much calm as possible into her statement, while at the same time she struggled to resist the urge to hit this pony as hard as she could.
“I doubt that,” snarled Brier, though a bit of the edge in his voice was gone. He held her gaze with sharp green eyes as his body twitched in repeated attempts to break free.
After several seconds of silent staring, she finally said, “You keep that up, that leg's gonna break.” His eyes narrowed, but his body stilled beneath her. She continued, “Now let's try this again. Are you going to cooperate with me, Doctor Brier?”
He coughed, then asked quietly, “How do you know my name?” Wordlessly, she nodded toward the black placard on the desk, where his name had been inscribed in white block letters. He muttered, “Fair enough. But what do you want with me?”
She leaned down close to his ear. “Just a few questions, that's all. I promise. Then I'll leave.”
The dean was quiet for a moment, then said, “You still haven't told me who you are.”
“Will you answer my questions?” He gave a curt nod. “In that case, I'm the Mysterious Mare-Do-Well.”
Dr. Brier suddenly burst into laughter. “Seriously?” he managed to choke out. “That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard!” His cries of jocularity were quickly replaced with a squeal of pain as Mare-Do-Well pushed his pinned leg up slowly towards his head. He shouted, “Okay, okay, okay, sorry! Mysterious Mare-Do-Well, fine!” She lowered his leg down, her crude hold proving to be effective. The dean let out a sigh of relief, then said, “Say what you need to.”
Mare-Do-Well began, “The break-in at the Dockworks was no random crime. The perps were after something specific, and from what I saw, they found it before they got away.”
“Wait,” interrupted the dean, “You were there? What are you, a cop or something? I already told you guys what I know about all that!”
“Do you really think I'm a cop?” asked Mare-Do-Well softly.
He looked her over once. “Fair enough. But you were there?”
“I was trying to stop the thieves. And last I remember, I'm the one who's supposed to be asking the questions.”
“Fine,” Brier said, rolling his eyes.
“The crate from Cameland, what was inside?”
The dean responded, “Our archaeologists have had a dig site there for a few months now. Trowel, the lead pony, had just found a new chamber in the temple where they'd been excavating, and he said they'd be sending anything they found back to us for inspection while they finished their job out there. The crate that got broken into was one of those. We're still trying to figure out exactly which one.”
“So you don't know what the thieves actually took?”
“That's right. Whole batch of crates came in from that dig.”
“But in the paper, your office said the item was 'highly valuable.' How could they know that if you aren't familiar with the contents of the ransacked crate?”
Brier stammered, “I...we...assumed it was. Any old piece from there is likely to be...well...valuable, no matter what the thieves went after.”
Mare-Do-Well was silent for a moment, then said, “Forgive me, Doctor Brier, but something's not right here. You say there were multiple shipments from Cameland, and that may be true, but these crooks didn't so much as touch any of the other packages in the Dockworks. They went specifically after that one, and it sounded like they were under orders from someone else to do it. Something special was in that crate, and I bet you know what it was.”
Brier's eyes shifted away from Mare-Do-Well's stare. He swallowed hard, then said, “Okay, maybe there's more.” He looked back at the costumed pony and her blank, unwavering stare. He let out a long sigh, then said, “Trowel sent me a letter two days before the package was supposed to arrive, said they had come across some incredible find out there. Mentioned something about a secret room, I didn't really understand all the details. Anyway, he seemed to think this thing was significant and made sure to send it as soon as he could, ahead of all the other stuff from the dig. I was going to pick it up from Seapony Dockworks the day after it arrived on the overnight cargo ship, but...you know the rest.”
Mare-Do-Well took a minute to process this new information. “Apparently, he wasn't the only pony who thought that what they found was 'significant.' This is important, Doctor. What exactly was in that crate?”
“I can show you if you want,” said the dean. “Trowel sent a photo along with his letter. It's in my desk drawer.”
Slowly, Mare-Do-Well lifted her hoof from Brier's back, keeping his hoof pinned behind him. She let him stand up straight, then led him around to the front of the desk. He methodically reached out his free forehoof and opened a small drawer to the right of his seat, the costumed mare watching his movements closely. After a moment of rummaging through the contents, he triumphantly plucked out a thick white envelope, which bore several exotic-looking stamps and a return address from Cameland. He held the envelope down while Mare-Do-Well used her own unoccupied hoof to slide the contents out onto the desk. She folded open a letter scrawled in rather poor hoofwriting and slid it aside, revealing what looked like the back of a photograph underneath. She turned it over and drew a sharp intake of breath.
To say the object pictured was “pretty” would be a gross understatement. The background appeared to be a tent, and the centerpiece of the photo had been placed on top of a small table therein. None of those details concerned Mare-Do-Well, though, as her vision was fixed on the stunning figurine whose image had been captured. Its shape was that of a pony, an earth pony judging from both the lack of horn or wings and the slightly enlarged legs and hooves. It appeared to have been chiseled out of glass, but there was no reflective light from where the camera had snapped the picture in the first place, and even though the area around the figure appeared to be well-lit, there were no mirror images of anything on its surface. The miniature looked, above all else, very smooth and exquisitely formed, without a single blemish or divot.
Her concentration was broken by Dr. Brier. “Stunning, isn't it?”
Her response was breathy. “Very much so.” She shook her head quickly, breaking away from the entrancing photo. “This is what was stolen?”
The dean sighed heavily. “Unfortunately. The police don't have any leads at this point, either. It's like the crooks just vanished into thin air. Shame. I really hate to lose a piece like that. Who knows what it's worth!”
Mare-Do-Well ignored his statement and continued her questioning. “Do you know of anypony that would want to steal from you specifically, Doctor, or go after this particular piece?”
He shook his head and replied, “Nopony I can think of. I don't really associate with petty thieves.”
“The more I look at it and think about it,” the masked mare said, “the more I'm sure that petty theft wasn't a factor in this. Somepony else knew about this find, Doctor, and they knew when and where to swipe it.” She stroked her chin. “I need to dig deeper. I get the feeling that I haven't even scratched the surface of this thing yet.” Suddenly, the dean's left forehoof was free of Mare-Do-Well's grasp, and he swung it around in front of him and massaged it with his right, wincing in pain. The costumed pony trotted toward the door, but turned back to face Dr. Brier before she stepped out. “One last thing, Doctor. Don't call the police right away. I'd like a little head start.” She grinned slightly at his indignant face, then stepped out of the room with a flourish of her cape, vanishing into the night. As she stealthily made her way off the Manehattan University campus and back to her apartment, she mulled over all the information divulged by her unwilling host. The case had taken an interesting turn. The interview had been a success.
“You really should try to get some rest, my dear.”
Professor Annals' soft voice startled Daring Do out of her trance, and she turned her head away from the window beside her. She had been looking through it, but if he'd asked, she couldn't have told him anything about what was on the other side. That, however, was not because of the thick darkness that obstructed the view of the water over which their dirigible soared, but rather because her mind dwelt on the only thing it had been dwelling on for the past three weeks. She stole a glance at her saddlebag, tucked safely underneath the seat in front of her, and met her colleague's gaze where he stood in the center aisle of the airship's coach seating area. His smile was genuine, but his eyes told her that he would much rather be having pleasant dreams than talking to a sleepless mare right now. She grinned back at him and said, “Don't worry about me, professor. I'll get some, I promise. Speaking of, what are you doing out of your seat?” She kept her volume low so as not to disturb the sleeping ponies in the surrounding seats, the scattered sounds of snoring echoing through the stillness of the flying machine.
He gave a slight chuckle and said, “Ah, Daring, so young and naive. When you get on in years as I have, you'll find that some of your internal workings develop a mind of their own, and if you don't adhere to their timetable, well...the results can be quite unpleasant.” An eyebrow rose as his smile faded. “However, that's enough about that subject. Forgive me for my frankness, my dear, but I must confess, I am somewhat troubled about your current state of affairs.”
Daring frowned. “What do you mean?”
His visage formed into a scowl, one that Daring thought was probably very effective if, earlier in his life, he'd needed to address one of his two children about some wrongdoing they had committed. “Daring Do, you know precisely what I mean. Perchance, have you glimpsed your own reflection this evening?”
Daring was struck by his use of her real name, and she slowly realized that she had not seen her mirror image for several days. She could only imagine the size of the bags under her eyes and how unkempt her shaded mane had become. She looked back at the professor's expectant face and answered, “Don't think I have.”
“I dare say not,” said the older unicorn in a voice that was far less accusatory and much more sympathetic than Daring had expected. “You certainly are a sight, but then again, I would expect nothing less to come from such a lack of sleep as you've experienced lately. Something's weighing heavy on your mind, my dear,” he continued, then nodded toward her stored saddlebag. “And I'd wager all my bits that I know precisely what it is.”
Daring's cheeks flushed, and a sheepish grin crept onto her face. She scratched the back of her head with a hoof and muttered, “That obvious, huh?”
Annals sighed and sat down in the empty seat next to Daring's, draping his hoof over her back. “Painfully so, I'm afraid. I must say, my dear, I'm surprised at this behavior of yours. It's not in your nature to obsess.”
She looked up at him with wide eyes. “Don't tell me you haven't thought about it.”
He waved his free hoof dismissively as he responded, “I'll not deny that it's held a prominent place in my mind for some time now, but I feel as though you've taken it to an unhealthy extreme.” She opened her mouth to protest, but found that a rebuttal was not forthcoming. After her lips were sealed again, he continued, “Daring, you really must consider the ramifications to your health, to your career, if you continue to spend such an atrocious amount of time attempting to analyze an artifact, even one so interesting as this one. Why, what would your academic peers think of you if they discovered you'd nearly thrown away everything so you could dissect the minutiae of a glass pegasus?”
Daring looked away from the unicorn, and her eyes landed once again on her sealed saddlebag. Despite the protests of several members of their expedition, she had insisted on keeping the transparent figurine nearby during the journey back to Equestria, providing excuses that revolved around “further study” and “safe keeping.” The object in question now occupied a secure pouch inside the bag, though it had not remained there for the entirety of their return trip, from the train ride out of the Zebrabwe desert and into the port city of Croup Town, and now in the skies above the ocean that separated Equestria from the rest of the world. More often than she cared to admit, she had extracted the entrancing relic from her bag and turned it around and around in her hooves, as though willing it to divulge its long-kept secrets. When it wasn't under her studious eye, the figurine lingered in her mind's vision, threatening to block out any other thoughts. From her recollections of the expedition's journey home, she could recall only snippets of conversations, a few fleeting nights of fitful sleep, and perhaps an occasional meal; everything else was a vain effort to unravel the mysteries of the curious carved pegasus.
What pressed her most into this state of rapt fixation was her memory of the days spent at the desert camp in Zebrabwe following her and Annals' discovery of the figure. While the team had brought some equipment with them into the field to analyze anything they might find, it was nowhere near the capabilities of the machinery that the archaeologists had at their disposal back at Manehattan University. Initially, this shortcoming was nothing more than a slight inconvenience, but it soon developed into the chief source of frustration for Daring Do, as experiment after experiment was conducted on their latest discovery, only to unleash a new torrent of questions. For appearing to be formed out of glass, the figurine proved to be much more resilient: a chisel, two different rock hammers, and even a hunting knife had all failed to leave so much as a mark on its surface. The most extreme measures of heat and cold that the science ponies could manage had not affected the piece in the least. Once, equal parts curious and upset, Daring had hurled the tiny pegasus onto a metal table as hard as she could, only to have it ricochet off, landing in the dirt a few feet away with nary a scratch or crack.
The geologists' search of the cave had turned up similar disappointing results. Tectonic Shift's findings had been uninteresting, with not even a trace of any sort of branching passageway buried under the strata. Even a brief magical analysis from two unicorns on Tectonic's team had turned up no traces of any latent spells or enchantments in the area. Despite the mounting evidence against their story, Daring and Annals had insisted that every word was true, leading to a number of suspicious glances and hushed whispers around the camp. The earth pony geologist did his best to defuse the situation, but even he had become aloof and difficult to speak with following the completion of his team's tests. Two weeks of exploration and scientific study had produced only a strange statuette and a growing air of unease in the Zebrabwe desert.
Daring found herself torn. On the one hoof, she was nearly bursting with anticipation at the idea of scrutinizing the artifact with a more advanced laboratory back at the university, hoping that a more thorough breakdown of the figurine would yield satisfactory results and data that would lead to concrete answers about its origin and purpose. In direct opposition to that excitement, however, was a nagging fear that had settled deep in her gut since the day she had found the pegasus and had slowly grown in intensity as time wore on. Even though she didn't fully understand why she was afraid, she knew exactly what she was afraid of. The terror had planted itself in her brain, and each inconclusive test, each mistrusting look given to her by anypony she considered to be a friend or colleague, each day of drawing no closer to the truth about the infuriating little artifact only fed the fear and made it grow, until it became painful to try to ignore. The very thought sent chills from the nape of her neck to the tip of her tail: This thing will destroy me if I let it. Perhaps the worst part, though, was that she knew she was willing to allow that to happen, all for the sake of answers, precious answers.
She shuddered slightly as the professor sat next to her, keeping a silent vigil over his fellow archaeologist. He gently rubbed her shoulder, his old patience shining through as he comforted the younger pegasus. Finally, she broke the silence. “I'm sorry, Annals. It's just...I can't get it out of my mind, no matter what I do.”
“I understand, my dear,” said the unicorn, “but you mustn't let it overtake you so. We'll be in good old Manehattan in two days time, and once we're there and back in the familiar confines of the university, I'm quite sure that this riddle will be solved in no time flat. In the meantime,” he added as he withdrew his hoof from around her and stepped off the seat, “I may have a temporary solution to alleviate some of your burden.” With a soft smile on his tired face, he extended his forehoof toward Daring.
She stared at his outstretched hoof for a moment before she realized his intentions. “Are you sure, professor? I...I wouldn't want anything to happen to it.”
He drew in a sharp breath and clutched his chest in a dramatic fashion. “Why, Daring, are you implying that I am not trustworthy? You cut me to the quick, my dear!” Several ponies nearby snorted in their sleep, and Annals dropped the volume of his delivery to accommodate the passed-out passengers. “Come now, allow me to help you as best I know how. Let me do my part; you simply must get some rest, if not for yourself, then certainly for your old friend.” His smile widened, and in spite of the dim light, Daring saw deep compassion shining clearly in his eyes as he put out his hoof again.
She hesitated for just a moment, then bent down and pulled her saddlebag from under the seat. Out of instinct, she reached for the clasp on the side, but paused before she opened the cloth container. Instead, she slowly hoisted the bag in her hooves and handed it delicately to the professor. As he accepted it into his grasp, he said, “Are you certain there's nothing in here you need?”
With a weak smile, Daring said, “Nothing that I'll need before tomorrow.”
Even as Annals swung the saddlebag over his back and shifted slightly to bear the added weight, Daring thought she noticed that his shoulders looked less slumped, his spine a little straighter. A yawn escaped his lips, and he said, “In that case, I shall return it to you then. In the meantime, pleasant dreams.” He turned in the direction of his seat.
“Professor?” Daring's question made him pause. She stifled a yawn of her own, then said, “Please...keep it safe.”
“Not to worry, my dear. I'll guard it with my life, for what that's worth,” he said with a smirk.
Daring smiled back. “Thank you, Annals.”
“My pleasure, Daring. Good night.” With that, the unicorn stallion trotted through the airship aisles toward his seat.
“Good night,” Daring whispered as he disappeared from her view. Another yawn came on, this one stronger. Her eyelids began to flutter as she settled into her cushioned seat, and after finding a comfortable position, she was asleep within seconds, her soft breathing fogging the window to the moonlit night outside. For the first time in several days, her respite was peaceful, her dreams free of any visions of a small, transparent pegasus.
***
The weeks following the interview with Dr. Brier had been, to put it simply, frustrating. Mare-Do-Well's watch over Manehattan continued much as it had in years past, but she had kept her eyes and ears open during her nightly patrols more than usual, searching for any sign of information related to the Seapony Dockworks robbery. On slow nights, she had even ventured into the seedier parts of the city, lurking in the shadows in hopes of overhearing some information being shared among criminals. This had proved to be a fruitless gesture; more often than not, she ended up spying on conversations that centered around the speakers' marefriends. Mare-Do-Well wasn't sure how many more unnecessary details about other ponies' love lives she could handle, and she was quickly running out of avenues to explore.
It was this frustration that led her to The Trough, a watering hole right on the edge of the Southern District. As she trotted up to the entrance, her costume tucked away inside her saddlebag, the front door was suddenly thrust open, and a light-colored body tumbled past the surprised mare, down the short staircase, and onto the sidewalk, where it collapsed in a gasping heap. A light brown stallion with a thick, scraggly black beard poked his head out of the still-open door and bellowed, “Don't come back, or I'll do more 'n throw ya out next time, ya mooch!” Mare-Do-Well watched as the deposed pony scrambled madly to his feet and galloped away, not once daring to look back at the furious bartender, who snorted as the other pony disappeared around the nearest street corner. As the bearded pony turned his head, he noticed Mare-Do-Well standing outside his establishment, and his hardened features softened slightly. “Sorry 'bout that, ma'am,” he said with a hint of anger still present in his voice. “Didn't mean t' upset ya.”
Mare-Do-Well realized her mouth was open. She quickly closed it and waved a hoof in front of her. “No need to apologize, you're just doing what you have to.” She raised an eyebrow. “You still open for business?”
The bartender grunted an affirmation and held the door open as Mare-Do-Well walked inside, then let it swing closed and trotted back towards the bar. Mare-Do-Well scanned the interior quickly, taking in her surroundings. The first thing she noticed was the lack of clientele. Aside from one young stallion whose head was becoming intimate with the bar counter and a group of ponies at a dingy-looking wooden table in the center of the room, the place was completely deserted. In the far corner, a jukebox with several burnt-out neon lights lazily droned an oldie by a one-hit wonder band, while against the front wall a rack of dusty pool cues kept watch over a billiard table that sported several rips in its green felt. Everything else was standard fare: two booths against the far wall, a selection of tables that didn't look like they'd been cleaned all night, and a dull, wooden counter surrounded by tall, uncomfortable-looking bar stools. Mare-Do-Well eased her way past the pool table and balanced herself atop a stool at the far end of the counter, where the bearded bartender stood trying to clean dirty glasses with an equally dirty rag. He scrubbed a particularly nasty glass on his once-white apron, then looked up. “So what'll it be?” he asked as he set the glass, which was still not very clean, next to his other empty containers.
“Cider, not hard,” she responded quickly as she placed her saddlebag in the empty stool next to hers. He turned to prepare her drink as she fished the appropriate number of bits out of her bag, then slapped them on the counter and slid them in the barkeep's direction just as he finished pouring the cider. In one swift motion, he set her foaming mug on the counter and slid the bits into his front apron pocket. She gratefully accepted the liquid nourishment and took a quick swig, her dry throat rejoicing at the feel of the lukewarm refreshment. She sighed contentedly. All the disappointments and dead ends from the past weeks began to dissipate as she relaxed in her seat. After another drink of cider, she asked the bartender, who was still standing directly across the counter from her, “So what was all that business at the door?”
He gave a scoffing chuckle. “That was my no-good brother-in-law. Thinks 'cause he's family, he can just come in here and get all his liquor fer free. I told him once before that ain't happenin', but he's got a thick head.” He leaned a little closer to Mare-Do-Well and added in a quiet voice, “Runs in the family.”
She smiled, then drained the rest of her mug. “One more round?” she said as she held up the empty beverage holder.
The bartender nodded and took the mug from her, refilling it quickly before setting it back in front of the eager mare. She turned to her bag, but he interrupted, “Nah, this one's on th' house. Can't sell that soft stuff to save me, might as well jus' get rid of it.” Mare-Do-Well hoisted her full glass in thanks, then began another drink.
Somewhere in her subconscious, she'd heard the door open and the familiar scrape of chairs on the floor; she'd even heard the soft murmur of a new group of patrons as they entered The Trough and took their seats, chatting amongst themselves. Her eyes widened and her pulse quickened, however, when one voice in particular stood out in the cacophony. It had been more than a month since she'd heard it, but there was no way she would ever forget that accent.
Germane.
She couldn't hear what he had said, but her heart still began to pound furiously as she slowly set her mug down. She swiveled in her seat so that she was facing the pool table and pretended to study the paraphernalia on the wall. The group with the big Germane pony was perpendicular to her, and with quick glances from the side of her eye, she spotted her target. His face was frozen in a perpetual frown, his jaw set in position so firmly that it looked like a statue. His entourage consisted of two other stallions, a scrawny, sharp-nosed unicorn and a dark green earth pony with a greased mane and a leather jacket. She waited patiently as the bartender left his post behind the counter and approached the table. “What can I get ya, fellas?”
The unicorn spoke first, his voice nasal and grating. “A ginger ale for me, please.”
The greasy pony guffawed and said, “C'mon, shrimp, grow a pair! Ginger ale? What are you, a filly?”
With a snort that sounded like a dying animal, the other pony said, “I need something to calm my stomach, thank you very much. That greasy lunch earlier is wreaking havoc on my digestive system.”
“The less I know about your digestive system, the better, ya nerd.” The leather-clad pony looked up to see the frowning bartender awaiting his selection. “Yeah, barkeep, gimme a Rolling Dock.”
“Right,” muttered the bartender as Mare-Do-Well thought, Yeah, a real stallion's drink there, macho mane. She snapped back to attention when the bartender said, “How 'bout you, big guy?”
Mare-Do-Well kept her eyes focused on the wall as she heard a low grunt, then the rumble of the Germane pony's voice as he said, “Maneken.” The bartender stood still for a moment, then quickly circled back behind the bar to retrieve his customers' orders.
Mare-Do-Well turned so that she was facing the counter again, but kept her ears riveted to the conversation going on behind her. She heard the unicorn first. “So, any new orders from on high, or is he staying quiet?”
“Nah, nothing new last I heard,” responded the greasy earth pony. “Things 've been real quiet here lately, an' tell the truth, it's makin' me a little nervous. I know no news is good news, but from the boss?”
“Patience,” said the Germane. “Boss is not foal. We wait for orders.”
“Easy for you to say, big guy,” the other earth pony muttered.
For a while, the only sound Mare-Do-Well heard from behind her was the clink of glass as the bartender delivered the beverages to the table. After several minutes of silence, the unicorn's whiny voice piped up, “Wait a moment, what time is it?”
His more talkative companion said, “Almost 7. Why?”
A chair slid across the floor. “Well, gentlemen, I'm afraid I must bid you farewell for this evening. My Dragon Hunters group will be expecting me soon, and I'd hate for them to have to carry on without my presence.”
The pony in leather laughed and said, “Y'know, sometimes I wonder if you're a real stallion.”
“I'm not even going to grace that comment with a response.”
The sound of hooves and the creak of the bar's front door let Mare-Do-Well know that the scrawny unicorn had departed the premises. She began to think hard about her next move; after more than a month of dead ends, these three – now two – had fallen into her lap, and she wasn't about to lose her only link to the mystery of the Dockworks break-in. Various ideas swirled around her head, but she quickly discarded them as impractical. She heard the smaller earth pony's voice again. “Y'know, big guy, you ain't exactly good for conversation.”
The Germane was silent for a moment longer, then said, “Nerd was better?”
Both stallions laughed for a short while, then returned to their drinks in silence. Mare-Do-Well sat, clutching her mug tight, as her mind raced quickly in search of a solution. Suddenly, she sat bolt upright in her stool, and her eyes went wide as a grin crept onto her face. With a hard swallow, she slowly turned around in her seat to face the table where the two conspirators sat. Celestia, I hope this works. In a voice that was just loud enough to reach her intended audience, she said in a sing-song voice, “Excuse me, boys.”
Each of the earth ponies was facing toward her at an angle, an empty chair close to her side of the table indicating the unicorn's former position. Mare-Do-Well's cheeks flushed as first the smaller pony, then the larger raised their heads from focused stares at their bottles to make eye contact with her. She blinked twice, then narrowed her eyes in a maneuver she hoped was attractive. “Would either of you like some...company?” Her last word came out quiet, and her gaze shifted from one stallion to the other, hoping for some kind of reaction.
It didn't take long. While the Germane pony's face remained unchanged – if anything, she thought his scowl deepened – the smaller earth pony quickly realized the opportunity that lay before him, if his sleazy grin was any indication. He spoke in a voice that was at least an octave lower than the one she had heard before. “Well, if you're offering...we've got an empty seat, whaddya say, big guy?”
The big stallion raised one eyebrow and looked at his companion, still frowning. “Serious?”
“Course I'm serious!” said the greasy pony. With a wink at Mare-Do-Well, he said, “Nothing wrong with a little company, 'm I right?” He gave the Germane a playful tap on the shoulder.
The large pony stared at his smaller counterpart for several seconds, then sighed. “Do what you want,” he murmured as his massive frame lifted out of the chair and he turned toward the door.
Greasy-haired pony spoke up, “Where you goin'? Don'tcha wanna stick around and chat, at least take a chance?”
The massive Germane head spun back around. “Little pony. Too small.” Without another word, he plodded out the door as Mare-Do-Well took the unicorn's former seat, placing her saddlebag on the floor beside her.
As the Germane departed, she resisted the urge to bolt out the door and follow him into the street. Instead, she turned back to the other pony and looked at his face. A look of shock at seeing his friend depart was quickly replaced by the same grin from earlier as he turned to face his new mare companion. “Forget him,” he said. “Doesn't know a good thing when he sees it.”
She had to struggle to contain her nausea, but finally managed, “And you do?”
“Sure do, sweetheart,” he replied. “An' I'm lookin' at a real good thing right now.”
His eyes hungrily drank in her frame, and the feeling of vomit rose in Mare-Do-Well's throat again. She swallowed subtly and said, “Hmm, a sweet talker. I like that.” She gave a quick look around the bar, which was still nearly devoid of patrons. “Say...maybe you and me, we can get out of here, go somewhere a little more...private.”
She wouldn't have been at all surprised to see his tongue lolling out from the side of his mouth as he sputtered out, “Sounds...uh...good to me. My place isn't far. You game?”
Nice and easy. Mare-Do-Well flashed a sultry stare at the dark green stallion as she simply stood up from the table and grabbed her bag in response. He eagerly jumped up beside her, leaving almost half of his Rolling Dock still in the bottle. Side-by-side, the two ponies departed The Trough and began the trek to his living quarters, Mare-Do-Well shooting him sly grins as she watched him walk with a little spring in his step and anticipation plain to see in his eyes.
It only took a few minutes to reach his building. With a quick turn of a key concealed in his jacket pocket, the stallion led Mare-Do-Well inside and through the hall toward the elevator. She did her best to ignore the dark stains on the off-white walls, the mysterious lumps in the ragged brown carpet that was missing several patches, and her nostrils filling with several scents that blended together to form a potpourri that she'd do her best to forget as soon as possible. The thin wooden doors on either side of the hall proved quite ineffective at masking the sounds that emanated from the rooms, from cries of rage that caused Mare-Do-Well to cringe to screams of pleasure that made her blush. Mercifully, the elevator was not a far walk. After the doors opened to reveal a poorly-lit car, her companion stepped inside, and she followed warily. With a mighty lurch, the cables began to pull the two ponies up. As the elevator rose slowly, the stallion stepped close to Mare-Do-Well and said in a low, breathy voice, “By the way, sweetheart, I don't think I caught your name.”
She flinched slightly, but quickly recovered and looked at him with narrow eyes. “No, you didn't. What do you say we keep it that way?” She gave him a wink and turned her focus back to the elevator's buttons as a huge, toothy grin spread onto the greasy-haired pony's face.
The elevator jolted to a halt, and the doors crept open once again. “After you,” said the dark green stallion, pointing his hoof out into another dirty hallway, though not quite as bad as the one on the ground floor. Mare-Do-Well sauntered out of the car, followed by the stallion, who led her to the left and around the corner. He paused in front of a door with nail holes where the numbers had once been and used another key to unlock it, then swung it open. She stepped inside and surveyed the small room as he closed the door behind them and slid the locking mechanism back into place. It was surprisingly not a complete dump, although several shirts and magazines strewn about showed that the floor served as both a laundry basket and a bookshelf. A bed that could barely fit one pony sat unmade in the corner, and on the opposite wall, she spied a door that likely led to the bathroom. A tall lamp in the corner provided illumination, while thick curtains obstructed the view of the deepening twilight outside the window.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a hoof snaking its way around her neck and the feel of breath on her ear as the overeager stallion sidled up beside her. She pushed him away gently, his face perplexed, and said, “Actually, all that cider I had earlier is starting to catch up with me. Would you mind if I used your restroom first?” A quick bat of her eyes sealed the deal.
He quickly stepped away from her and said, “Oh, yeah, sure. It's right over there.” He nodded in the direction of the door, then leaned a little closer. “I'll be waiting in here.” His head cocked to the side as he gave an exaggerated wink.
If Mare-Do-Well hadn't had to use the facilities earlier, she certainly did now, if only so she could throw up. She maintained her composure, however, and walked slowly towards the bathroom door, making sure to put a little extra shake in her hips. She flashed the panting stallion a quick smile and sealed herself in the privacy of the tiled room. Instantly, her veneer of charm dropped, and her saddlebag was off her back and opened in seconds. She extracted all the pieces of her costume and put them on quietly, giving a quick flush of the filthy toilet as she donned her wide-brimmed fedora. A glance in the mirror brought a concealed smile to her face, and she swung the door open and stepped back into the room.
The earth pony's leather jacket had been cast aside to become just another loose article in the sea of clothing, and he was lying on his side on the bed, the very picture of seductiveness in his own mind. His longing gaze quickly turned to wonder, though, as she reappeared in all her costumed glory. He let out a low whistle, then said, “So you're into that kind of thing, huh? Pretty hot.”
Mare-Do-Well twirled around, her cape flowing around her, and a quick look at his face told her that she had his undivided attention. In the same seductive voice as earlier, she said through the mask, “Oh, but I have a little problem...see, I couldn't reach the zipper back here.” She turned around and stuck her flank up high, pointing with a forehoof toward her rump. “Could you please get that for me?” She gave a little wiggle. “Pretty please?”
He slid off the bed and said, “Sure thing.” He eagerly stepped toward the presenting mare, his eyes gleaming with anticipation as he made ready to claim his prize.
Thump. Her back left hoof flew true, catching his jaw and turning his head sharply to the right.
Thump. The other rear hoof followed immediately, a direct hit on the left side of his face that knocked his whole head backwards and caused him to rear up.
THWACK. Both hooves struck his exposed chest with full force, and he was propelled through the air toward his bed. He landed with a loud crash as the wood of his bed's frame cracked from the impact of his flying body, and the entire sleeping apparatus collapsed around him. Mare-Do-Well muttered, “Training bag never felt that good,” and quickly sprang to his prone body.
The stallion lay in a heap, surrounded by the remnants of his bed. His eyes spun in circles, his tongue hung limply from his lips, and a thin gash on his face where her second kick had hit him was oozing blood onto his dark green coat. She quickly gripped either side of his head with her forehooves and gave a quick shake. His eyes spun once more, then settled into place, staring directly into the hollow eyes of the costumed mare's mask. His pupils shrank and he gasped, ready to shout in terror, but a hoof over his mouth kept him quiet. Mare-Do-Well did her best not to think about how much she felt like a dominatrix at that moment, instead saying harshly, “Listen up, lover boy, you're not gonna shout, you're not gonna scream, and you're not gonna say a word unless I ask you a question. Got it?” He looked left, then right, then back at Mare-Do-Well and gave a quick nod. She removed her hoof from his lips and said, “Good boy. Okay, first question: You're partners with the big Germane pony, right?”
“With Krieg?” he choked out. “Yeah, we're partners, we work together. Why?”
She slammed down a forehoof inches from his head. “I ask the questions, you give the answers, remember?” she growled. He nodded again, and she continued, “Second question: Who are you working for?”
He cringed, then winced in pain. “I can't tell you.”
“No? Well, that's unfortunate.” She lifted one rear hoof without looking away. “Guess that means you won't be a stallion for much longer.”
“Wait, wait!” he squealed. She slowly lowered her leg as he sputtered out, “If I tell you, he'll kill me, I know it! A pony like him, you don't wanna cross! He's got power, influence...I'd be dead in a week.”
“Well, now I really want to know who he is. And since I don't have anypony else to question, I guess you'll have to do.” She leaned her face closer, the earth pony's eyes widening. “And the sooner you talk, the less pain you'll have to go through.” Her hoof rose into the air once more. “Are we clear?”
He groaned, a low, pitiful sound brought on by intense pain. His eyes shut and he turned away from Mare-Do-Well as she stood poised above him, ready to strike at his most sensitive area. She was just about to deliver the crushing kick when he whimpered, “Okay.”
She gave his head a quick slap, and he opened his eyes again. “What was that?”
He coughed, then said, “Okay! I'll tell you what I know.”
For the second time, she brought her hind leg down slowly. “There now, that wasn't so hard. Now, who is he?”
After a moment's pause and a hard swallow, the wounded stallion said, “He's called the Collector. Nopony knows his real name, and I've never even seen his face. Another pony who works for him brought me in, said I was good material for the group. At first, it was just odd jobs, a hold-up here, a smash-and-grab there, little stuff that didn't bring in a lot of bits. Here lately, though, he's been setting up real specific work, giving us specific things to swipe, certain ponies to...teach a lesson to. He's got a big network, all over Manehattan, but he does a real good job of making sure nopony rats him out. He'll snuff 'em out before he lets 'em talk to the police. Some ponies even say he's into...weird stuff.” He grimaced as pain shot through him and let out a hacking cough.
Mare-Do-Well, however, was growing impatient. “What kind of 'weird stuff?' What do you mean?”
The stallion coughed again, then said, “Like voodoo-type stuff, witchcraft and whatever. Not like unicorn magic or nothin', but they say it's just as strong. Ponies who've been to see him say that his office has all these weird masks and things in it, and they're scared stiff just to be in the same room as the guy. That's all I know, I swear.”
“Third and final question: What do you know about the Seapony Dockworks break-in?”
His face became confused. “I wasn't part of that job.”
“Krieg was,” she responded harshly.
“He didn't say much about it to me,” said the stallion quietly. “Just that the boss made it very, very clear that they were only after one specific thing. He didn't say nothin' else.”
“Now that, I believe.” Mare-Do-Well stepped back from the downed stallion and stroked her chin. “Thanks for the info, lover boy, and don't worry: I won't tell anypony it was you that spilled the beans on your boss. Now, if you'll excuse me...” With a flick of her cape, Mare-Do-Well made for the apartment door.
A weak voice from the wrecked pile that used to be a bed said, “Wait!” With a shaky hoof, the injured stallion propped himself up and looked at the costumed mare, his eyes glistening with both pain and curiosity. “Who are you?”
She tilted her head slightly and raised her front hoof to strike a dramatic pose. “I'm the Mysterious Mare-Do-Well. Remember that.” She quickly sped out the door and into the dark hallway, her cape trailing behind her as she galloped over the discolored carpet to the stairwell. She heard the sound of opening doors behind her as she ran, but she didn't turn to see the curious faces that peered out from their rooms to spot the pony causing all the noise, only to catch the briefest glimpse of a blur of purple as it sped through the building. Her exit down the stairs was swift, if exhausting, and she met nopony else on the way down. When she burst through the front door of the apartment complex, Luna's moon had taken its position of prominence in the darkened sky, and under the cover of blackness, Mare-Do-Well traversed the alleys and shadows of Manehattan back to the sanctuary of her own apartment.
As a prestigious institute of higher learning in Equestria, Manehattan University was universally recognized as one of the premier colleges available to ponies who wished to pursue further education. While the school offered a variety of programs to choose from, the History Department was perhaps best known for its contributions to the field, with graduate students and faculty alike participating in research covering every era of ponies past, from the years prior to the founding of Equestria to the recent return and subsequent defeat of Nightmare Moon. Teams of ponies were often sent out into all parts of the world on archaeological digs and explorations of foreign lands to search for more artifacts and relics that would shed light on the olden cultures of ponies and to uncover information regarding the ancient traditions and stories of the other races that populated the world around them. The on-campus facilities and laboratories of the History Department were filled with evidence of those past excursions, and a small museum had been erected at the university to display some of the more impressive findings of the department's research ponies.
More often, though, any exciting finds were taken directly to the research teams for analysis. Experts in fields ranging from geology to etymology worked hard at the on-campus labs to decipher the truth about the relics brought back by the explorer ponies. Their test results fueled the subject matter of many lectures held in the department's classrooms, where the young minds fresh out of high school either eagerly absorbed the information or merely retained it long enough to regurgitate it during finals week. While most of the ponies who enrolled in a history course did so merely because it was a requirement for the general education portion of their curriculum, there were always a few whose interest in the study of the past was sparked or strengthened by the orations given by the history professors. Each new discovery by the archeology teams helped to instill a love of history into a new generation of ponies, which would produce several talented graduate students who strove to assist the faculty in their work and were readily accepted into the group of historical researchers.
One of these graduate students had been an excitable young mare named Daring Do. Her fascination with cultures from the past originated from her father's large collection of Equestrian Geographic magazines, and her entry into the Manehattan University's History Department had only excited her love of the subject more. Her adviser, a younger Professor Annals, saw her enthusiasm almost immediately, and he had been a constant source of encouragement and wisdom all throughout her first four years at the college, ensuring that her progress through the curriculum was smooth, swift, and sufficient. She joined the graduate program immediately after receiving her bachelor's degree, and within only a few years, she had become one of the top young archaeologists in the field. Her friendship with Annals had remained close, and much like their most recent expedition, the two ponies often ventured together to sites around the world, ready to discover things both old and new.
The incident in the Zebrabwe desert had bolstered the archaeologists' camaraderie. The discovery of a mysterious piece of pony history aside, Annals and Daring had been the only ones to experience the phenomenon of the secret passage inside the cave, and they had clung firmly to their story, even if it meant that the rest of the expedition ostracized them. Even while the other ponies in their team visibly and purposefully avoided contact with the pair of them, the aged professor and his young ward confided in each other, certain of the truth of their experience. Daring's heart, weighed down by the judgmental cloud that hung over the camp in the weeks before their departure, was lifted by Annals' constant support, as well as his willingness to believe her description of the room that he had not witnessed with his own eyes. He had remained a steadfast friend throughout the trip home, when Daring's mind had slowly begun its journey to obsession over the figurine.
As much comfort as Annals had provided, however, Daring could see that the rumors and whispers spread amongst the other ponies were taking their toll. His usually jovial countenance had slowly drooped with time, his eyes bearing dark circles and a frown erecting a permanent home on his lips. Even now, as they trotted beside one another through the halls of the History Department, on their way to the dean's office, Daring stole a glance at her mentor's face and saw eyes that looked forward, but saw nothing. Her mind raced with things she could say; her mouth opened slightly, but nothing came out. She sighed softly and continued her silent walk, the professor matching her steps.
When Dr. Brier's door came into view, Daring swallowed nervously, and her wings unconsciously flared out to either side. Her feathers brushed against the professor's body, and his soft voice asked, “My dear, is everything all right?”
Her right eye twitched almost imperceptibly. “I guess so.”
The elder unicorn tutted. “You 'guess so?' Now I know something's wrong.” He held out a hoof, halting their progress down the hall. “Come now, my dear, tell me what's troubling you.”
Daring's eyes were wide, but a shaky grin crept across her face. “If you must know...I don't enjoy meeting with Dr. Brier very much.”
She could swear that the faintest hint of a smirk now graced Annals' lips. “The dean? Pray tell, what is it about the good doctor that troubles you so?”
Daring cleared her throat and looked away from the imposing door. “You remember back in grade school, if you did something real bad, you got sent to the principal's office? Well, ever since the first time I had to come up here for an evaluation, I flashed back to those days. Not exactly the fondest memories. And Brier? Certainly fits the part.”
Annals' laughter burst out of him quickly and loudly, startling the younger pegasus and causing her to take a step back. After several seconds of hearty merriment, he regained his composure and addressed Daring with a lingering smile, “Sincerest apologies, my dear. It's merely a bit surprising to hear that somepony else had that particular opinion of our beloved dean.” He chuckled softly.
Daring tilted her head and raised one eyebrow. “You mean that you-”
“Also hearkened back to the classroom days of yore when facing Brier for the first time? Oh, I recall it fondly, my dear.” He looked down at her, a soft sparkle in his narrowed eyes. Daring didn't break her gaze, and Annals continued, “After Dr. Heath, our current dean's predecessor, retired, I feared that our department would fall into the hooves of an uninformed or inexperienced pony. Approximately three minutes spent in conversation with the new faculty head thoroughly convinced me that the university board had chosen, quite possibly, the least amicable pony in all Equestria to fill the vacant position. An additional half hour of intense discussion led me to believe that the entirety of the board was either barking mad or a collection of intellectuals of the highest order. His demeanor, his rhetoric...all his mannerisms conjured up memories of imposing authority figures from my past. However, my initial concerns, even terror, were soon put to rest when I realized one all-important fact: a strict and authoritative leader was precisely what this department required in order to thrive! Even if he seemed off-putting and argumentative, he possessed all the necessary facets of a skilled leader, and, I must say, that made quite the impression on this old stallion.” Annals smiled, his recollections complete.
Daring stood rooted in place in the hallway, a soft smile on her face. It was good to hear Annals laugh again. She stroked her chin with a hoof and said, “All that may be true, professor, and I'm glad you have such a high opinion of Brier, but...I'm still terrified by him.”
Another soft chuckle came from the unicorn professor. “I understand completely, my dear. I think, however, that he would not have it any other way.” Annals nodded his head toward their destination. “Shall we?”
Daring smiled back and answered, “Sounds good.”
With a quick flick of her head, she started toward the door again, the professor close behind. A few steps later, they stood before the wooden structure, and Daring raised a hoof, hesitating only a moment before knocking four times. Several seconds passed in silence before the familiar gruff voice of Dr. Brier called out a terse, “Come in!” The archaeologists entered the small office to find the dark gray earth pony seated behind his desk, and Daring saw him slide a drawer shut as she and Annals trotted to the two empty chairs in front of the desk and took their seats. The dean looked up as they sat down and spoke again. “You're late, Annals, Daring.”
Daring immediately felt a surge of heat flush through her head, but the professor responded before she could speak. “A thousand apologies, Dr. Brier. Cart traffic was a bit of a nightmare, I'm afraid.”
“Not important,” the dean responded gruffly. “What is important is that you two are back from that Zebrabwe excursion. Your call certainly made it sound like something big happened down there, Annals.”
“That would be putting it rather lightly, doctor. I sincerely believe that this find may be one of the most significant that I've ever run across in my entire career.”
Brier raised an eyebrow. “Well, you've certainly piqued my interest. Let's see what you've got.”
Annals nodded to Daring, and she responded in kind before swinging her saddlebag around and opening it. After a few moments of rummaging, she triumphantly extracted a small but surprisingly heavy bundle of cloth. Carefully, she placed it onto the dean's desk and began to peel away layer after layer of the material, her eyes narrowed in focus and her teeth clenched together firmly. Finally, she removed the last strip with a flourish, leaving a small, circular pile of cloth that resembled a bird's nest lying on the desk top; nestled in the center of the makeshift nest, the transparent pegasus stood. All six eyes in the room were riveted on the miniature form, which seemed to capture the soft fluorescent light that dimly illuminated the room. Daring's pupils widened at the sight of the familiar figurine; no matter how often she stared at it, the model always commanded her full attention, wrapping her mind up in its mysteries.
Her trance was broken when a dark gray hoof carefully wrapped around the pegasus figurine. She looked up and watched as Dr. Brier slowly lifted the entrancing object and rotated it in his grasp, his gaze fixed on the pegasus as he held it and studied the new and mysterious figure. For a brief moment, a strange look seemed to flash across his eyes, but just as quickly, it passed, and, without looking up from the model, spoke quietly, “That's really something.”
“Indeed,” breathed Annals. Daring nodded in silent agreement.
“Where'd you find it?”
The archaeologists looked at each other for a moment before they began. Prior to their visit to the dean, both ponies had discussed the feasibility of telling the whole story to Brier; if the other ponies on the expedition hadn't believed their version of events, the possibility of the dean acknowledging that their tale was true was slim indeed. On the other hand, withholding the facts irked the two of them, especially Daring. While the real narrative was difficult to fathom, Annals and Daring remained staunch in their position, and after some deliberation, had decided to divulge the entirety of their experiences to Dr. Brier when the time came.
The story took several minutes to tell. As they recounted their discovery of the artifact, Brier remained relatively quiet, only interrupting to ask for clarification or to bring up a question to the two ponies. Daring noticed that his eyes would often wander down to the transparent pegasus, only to snap back to the archaeologists after a few seconds. After several instances of this, she began to realize that she was doing the same thing.
At last, their story came to a close. Several seconds passed in silence as Brier turned the figurine in his grasp once more. Finally, he said, “Never heard anything quite like that. And you swear that's what happened?”
Daring responded, “That's the whole truth, doctor. It's hard to believe, I know...I still have trouble with it, even now. But I promise you, everything we just told you is a fact.”
The dean's demeanor hardened. “That makes this whole situation very interesting...and dangerous. Who else but you two knows the whole story?”
Annals said, “We shared our tale with several members of our expedition, but they were less than willing to accept our word as fact, especially after the inspection of the initial tunnel revealed no branching passageways.”
“That may not be such a bad thing,” said Brier, the corners of his mouth turning up ever-so-slightly.
“What are you talking about?” asked Daring. Her voice was slightly more aggressive than she had intended.
“Just listen for a second, Daring,” the dean responded briskly. “Now, let's say for a moment that I believe your story's the Celestia-honest truth. If we display this particular piece in the museum, that kind of back story is only gonna bring all kinds of trouble around here.”
Daring cut in, “Trouble? How would it be trouble? Most ponies would be thrilled to see a relic that was found in a mysterious cave in a foreign land! We'd have visitors from all over Equestria coming to see it.”
“That's precisely the problem, my dear,” Annals spoke up. “During our return journey, I gave the matter a great deal of thought, and I believe I now understand the dean's stance on this issue: All the attention that such a find would garner would undoubtedly bring with it a great deal of unwanted attention. Skeptics and critics would descend upon our humble campus like a plague, demanding solid evidence that our means of discovery was indeed legitimate. The legal system would likely become involved if we could produce no such evidence, and I'm afraid that the word of two explorers, no matter how truthful, would not stand up well against the onslaught of questions and accusations. The credibility of this department, even the entire university, would be tarnished for years to come.”
“Exactly, Annals,” spat Brier. “It's dangerous to display this piece right now, no matter how amazing it may be.” The dean's eyes had drifted back down to the figurine, but they quickly returned to stare at the archaeologists, alternating between the young pegasus and the aged unicorn. The bearded earth pony continued, “What do we even know about this thing? I assume you ran tests out in the field.”
Daring muttered something incoherent, but Annals quickly spoke to cover up her quiet rant. “We did indeed, Dr. Brier. However, each and every test proved to be quite...inconclusive. Even our geologists were flummoxed in their attempts to glean information about this specimen. The substance out of which it is carved is quite resilient.”
“All the more reason to not go spreading the word to everypony,” Brier said. “We can't be sure if this thing is even entirely safe if we can't determine what it's made of. As fascinating as this little pegasus is, the best thing we can do at this point is keep it here, on-campus, out of view of the public, where we can run more tests.”
Daring sighed and said, “I can see your point, doctor, but ever since I found it in that strange room, the pegasus has been lurking in the back of my mind. I can't put my hoof on it, but whenever I think about it, whenever I look at it, I get a...feeling, like we're right on the edge of something huge, like this might be the most important thing I've ever found.”
“I never said it wasn't important, Daring,” Brier said as he held up a hoof. “Just that putting it out into the open when we don't really know what we're dealing with is a dangerous and bad idea. Once we figure out a few facts, then we'll see where we go from there.”
“Could not agree with you more, Dr. Brier,” added Annals. “I firmly believe that further study will yield answers to many of the questions that have plagued Daring and myself these past weeks.” The professor looked over to his young assistant. “Shall we deliver this to the laboratory then, my dear?”
Daring realized that she had been staring at the figurine, and quickly shook her head. “I guess so,” she replied softly as she began to wrap the cloth around the pegasus once more. A stray thought brought a question to her lips, “Oh, and out of curiosity, doctor, how's Trowel's dig in Cameland going?”
Brier's eyes flashed a quick look down and to the left, and Daring could swear he was looking at the very same desk drawer that he had been closing when she and Annals had entered the room. His gaze only deviated for an instant before it returned to Daring's, and he answered, “Going well, at least from the letters I've gotten. Nothing as crazy as what happened to the two of you, that's for sure, but his team's at least found a few interesting pieces. I'm looking forward to their return, should be in the next two or three weeks.”
“Me too,” Daring said softly. Something about the dean's voice seemed...off, somehow. And there was that way he looked at his desk drawer just now... She blinked hard twice and drove the troublesome thoughts to the back of her mind. Even though Dr. Brier wasn't her favorite pony in Equestria, conjuring up outlandish ideas based on observations of nothing at all wasn't an appropriate course of action. She folded the last patch of cloth over the top of the transparent pegasus and tucked it back into her saddlebag. With a brief farewell, she and Annals departed the dean's office and started in the direction of the History Department laboratory.
A brief elevator ride later, the two ponies stepped through the basement doors that led to the laboratory. Just inside the door was a desk where a mauve pony with an expertly combed mane sat, staring intently at her hooves as she filed them down. Beyond the desk, several machines whirred and blinked with tiny lights, each one monitored by at least one pony dressed in off-white coats that extended to cover the length of their torsos. Before the receptionist even acknowledged their existence, however, they were met by a stocky, cream-colored unicorn stallion with thick glasses and a slicked-back dark brown mane, adorned with one of the standard coats. A bright blue name tag bore the name “Bunsen Burner” printed in black block letters, and several different-colored pens poked out visibly from the top of his front coat pocket. Daring smiled and said, “How's life in the sub-level, Burner?”
The unicorn grinned in response, revealing a set of braces that had been on his teeth for as long as Daring had known him, before he said, “Boring as ever.” With a nod to Professor Annals, he asked, “What brings you two down to the land of the smart and well-dressed ponies?”
“Oh, were we there? I hadn't noticed,” quipped Daring.
The three ponies chuckled, then Annals said, “I'm afraid our business down here is strictly that: business.”
“What the professor means to say,” said Daring, “is that we've got a new toy for you to play with.”
The scientist's eyes lit up. “Ooh, a new toy...I like the sound of that. You find it on that Zebrabwe trip?”
Daring nodded and extracted the cloth-wrapped figurine once again, freeing it from its bindings quicker than she had in Brier's office and presenting the statuette to Burner. As with most ponies, his initial reaction upon seeing the pegasus was an enamored gaze, and after several moments of his open-mouthed staring, Daring said, “Well, don't just stand there and drool over it, Burner.”
He looked up quickly and brought his jaw back to its normal resting place, then responded, “Sorry, it's just...never seen a piece like this one before.”
“We get that a lot,” said Daring.
“Do you have the field test results?” the unicorn scientist asked.
“The tests were so inconclusive as to be worthless, my friend,” said Annals. “We were rather hoping that you and your entourage could provide us with something a bit more concrete.”
Burner smiled. “We'll certainly do our best, professor.” He reached out a hoof to take the pegasus from Daring.
The young explorer paused for a moment when she saw Burner's awaiting hoof. With one last, long look at the figurine, she placed it safely into the grasp of the other pony, feeling her heart skip a beat when she finally let go of the relic. The coat-clad pony turned to go back to the heart of the laboratory, and Annals began to retreat back towards the door, but Daring called out, “Wait! Burner!” causing both stallions to pause and the receptionist to raise her eyes for the briefest of moments before returning to her hoof-filing.
He spun his head around. “What's up, Daring?”
She wasn't sure what she'd meant to say, and her mouth opened and closed twice without any sound coming forth before she finally found some words: “Keep it safe. Please.”
The soft, braces-revealing smile that the young unicorn gave her should have reassured her, comforted her, ensured her that everything would be all right, and under any other circumstance, it probably would have done all of those things and more. As it was, she found it discomforting, and his words were no consolation when he said, “Will do. Promise.”
He trotted away, leaving Daring standing quiet near the entrance. Her front hoof rose up, seemingly of its own accord, and she began to open her mouth once more, but stopped when she felt a hoof touch her shoulder lightly. She turned and came face-to-face with Professor Annals, his face showing slight concern. “Daring? Shall we go, then?”
A spell seemed to lift from Daring, and she lowered her hoof and gave a quick nod to the professor, then spun around quickly and pushed the exit door out a bit harder than was necessary. Once the two ponies were back out in the hallway, walking next to each other, she was silent, her eyes concentrating on the floor tiles that had yet to meet their hooves. For several minutes, the young pegasus and her unicorn mentor walked in this fashion, until finally, Daring said in a weak voice, “Do you think they'll find out anything?”
Annals sighed softly and answered, “I certainly hope they do, my dear. Answers would be most welcome at this point in time.” The two archaeologists continued down the empty hall, their hoof steps echoing on the cold tile as they walked side-by-side in quiet contemplation.
For all the information Mare-Do-Well had managed to glean from the overzealous earth pony with the greasy mane, her inquiries in the following days had proved disappointingly fruitless. While she had managed to foil several crimes in the course of her nightly rounds, none of the pony perpetrators that she managed to question had been able to divulge any additional information regarding the identity, whereabouts, or even motivations of the mysterious “Collector.” A few of the thugs had heard the name, but they only spoke of him fearfully, as a nameless, faceless mastermind who lurked in the shadows and bore strange powers. Several stories managed to move beyond mere conjecture and into the realm of ridiculousness; no matter what was said, Mare-Do-Well refused to believe that anypony could “control your mind with just a look” or “kill you with a wave of his hoof.” No matter the validity of their statements, however, it was apparent that the mere mention of the Collector was enough to set even petty criminals on edge.
During those nights of interrogation, Mare-Do-Well had done her best to retain her composure, but two separate concerns had wormed their way into the back of her mind and lodged themselves firmly in her subconscious, creating an ever-present feeling of dread that she couldn't shake, no matter what she tried. The first issue that worried her had arisen after her “interview” with the greaser. His fear of the Collector was palpable, but what stuck in her mind most was how it appeared that the mysterious figure behind the Dockworks break-in was escalating his unsavory escapades. “Here lately, though, he's been setting up real specific work, giving us specific things to swipe, certain ponies to...teach a lesson to.” Based on that information, the theft of the artifact that night several weeks ago had been a targeted operation, and even though she knew very little about the actual piece, from her discussion with the dean, its value was likely significant, perhaps in more ways than one. The intent behind its pilfering, at least at this point, was unclear, but Mare-Do-Well was sure that it was only part of something bigger, something she couldn't put her hoof on at the moment.
Her second anxiety was something much more tangible. Desperate times had indeed led to desperate measures in the bar, and while her impromptu seduction of the randy stallion had proven useful, after her departure from his apartment, she realized that she had made one crucial error: her identity. Strained for time and out of ideas, she hadn't thought about the ramifications of being seen without her costume. Now, not only the greasy earth pony, but also the big Germane had seen her real self, and she was sure that the leather-clad pony's story of his unfortunate adventure with the hot but dangerous mare that knocked him silly had been shared amongst his colleagues, or at least with his sizable earth pony counterpart. Mare-Do-Well found some measure of comfort in the fact that while he knew what she looked like, the foolish stallion hadn't learned her real name, only her alter ego, and her appearance could be altered easily enough with dye and patience. In spite of those reassurances, however, the knowledge that she had suffered such an egregious lapse in judgment unnerved her greatly, and her sleep had been fitful the last few nights as she often found herself awakening from deep slumber with a start, her breathing heavy and strained and her brow wet with sweat, while the fleeting images of a dark and troublesome dream tumbled through her mind.
The lingering fears, however, didn't prevent her from maintaining her vigil over Manehattan. On the sixth morning after her run-in with the eager earth pony, Celestia's golden orb was hidden from view by a mass of thick gray clouds that had been gathered throughout the day by the city's weather pegasi in preparation for a round of rain, and a chilly, damp wind from the harbor flowed through the narrow streets, which were nearly devoid of life. Mare-Do-Well, clad in her purple disguise, strode easily across the rooftops, her cape billowing behind her as the wind whipped around the pony-made structures. She paused at the edge of one building and peered down into the shadowed avenue below, sweeping her vision left and right. The only sign of life was a pair of unfamiliar ponies galloping against the gusting gale, likely in search of shelter from the impending storm. Mare-Do-Well looked up at the gray sky and watched as the roiling clouds began to darken, any faint hint of sunlight almost entirely concealed behind a canopy of imposing thunderheads. In the distance, she could see that the downpour had already begun over the waters of the harbor, and in a matter of minutes, the sheets of rain would reach her current location. She quickly scanned the rooftop for cover, but saw nothing that could provide her entire body with shelter from the storm. A flash of lightning from the harbor grabbed her attention, and when the boom of the thunderclap assaulted her eardrums only seconds later, she was already climbing down the stairs of the fire escape as fast as her hooves could carry her.
She reached street level as the first drops began to pound the pavement around her. A few yards to her right, an awning flapping in the wind caught her attention, and she scurried underneath the flimsy cover as the rain intensified, the cacophony of the emptying clouds rattling through the abandoned boulevard. Her suit was waterproof to an extent, but in a deluge like this, there was no chance that she would stay dry if she lingered in the rainfall for more than a few seconds. The brim of her fedora flapped back, and she clutched the headgear with a hoof to prevent the wind from making off with it as she pressed herself against the side of the stone building, staying as far from the precipitation as possible. Despite the warmth of her skintight costume, she shivered as another strong gust of wind sent a chill through her body.
As she was contemplating where she could find better shelter, a noise from behind her that sounded like a voice stood out against the sound of the wind and rain, though if it was a voice, Mare-Do-Well couldn't make out any of the words. She turned around, still keeping her hat pinned tightly to her head, and saw a beige mare with a long black apron, diminutive glasses, and a white, close-cut mane standing half inside the building, the door held ajar by one of the mare's forehooves. The white-maned pony was looking at her, confusion evident in her eyes, and when she opened her mouth and spoke, Mare-Do-Well could barely make out the words. “What are you doing out here? Come inside!” A nod of the stranger's head made her intentions clear, and with only a moment's hesitation, Mare-Do-Well decided to accept the other pony's invitation.
Upon entering, Mare-Do-Well found herself inside a small restaurant. The first two things she noticed were the silence and the warmth, a stark contrast to the worsening storm of wind and rain that still raged on the other side of the door. Next, she began a swift surveillance of her new shelter. A line of booths encircled the perimeter, interrupted only by the front door and the double swinging doors that likely led to the kitchen, while a pattern of small square tables and two large circular ones filled out the center area of the establishment. Each table was illuminated by a flickering oil lamp covered by a red glass bulb, and the ceiling lights were widely spaced, giving the room a soft, almost romantic ambiance. As she scanned her surroundings, however, Mare-Do-Well realized the reason for the silence: Despite the charming atmosphere, all the booths and tables were empty, and the only visible ponies at the moment were herself and the beige mare, whom she now noticed was a unicorn. The white-maned mare spoke up, interrupting Mare-Do-Well's train of thought. “Are you okay?”
The voice surprised her; Mare-Do-Well had expected to be dealing with an older pony, but the mare's tone seemed to indicate that she was still a young adult. Mare-Do-Well shook the thought out of her head and responded, “Fine, thanks.” She cleared her throat and continued in a slightly lower pitch, “I appreciate you letting me in.”
“No prob,” the other mare said, though her face still registered concern. She looked her guest up and down, eyes wide and wondering.
After watching her host's eyes scan her body several times, Mare-Do-Well asked, “What?”
The beige unicorn pointed a hoof at her new guest and said, “What's with the get-up?”
Mare-Do-Well chuckled as she remembered how odd it must look to see a purple-costumed pony, complete with hat and cape, loitering outside a restaurant in the middle of a storm in downtown Manehattan. “Right, the outfit.” She paused for only a moment before continuing, “I was on my way to a costume party when the storm hit.”
“Costume party...right...” said the unicorn, one eyebrow raised. “Whatever you say. Anyway, it's nasty out there.” A rumble of thunder accentuated her point. “No sense standing out there soaking wet or freezing to death or whatever. You can stay in here until it's not so awful.”
“Again, thanks,” Mare-Do-Well responded. She gestured toward the middle of the restaurant. “So, nice place. Do you run it or...?”
With a smirk, the beige pony responded, “Nah, my dad owns this hole in the wall. He's back in the kitchen, probably cooking up his latest 'gourmet masterpiece.' I'm just working here for a little extra money, put myself through school, y'know. Name's Ivorymane.” The unicorn gasped, then said, “Omigosh, I totally didn't ask you; you want some food or a drink or something?” A pad and pen suspended in a light blue glow floated out of a pocket of the beige pony's apron. “Or maybe sit down somewhere? I'm sorry, I'm still kinda new at this.”
“It's all right,” said Mare-Do-Well with a concealed smile. “Lead the way.”
The waitress blinked twice, then exclaimed, “Oh! Yeah, follow me.” She trotted to the booth that was closest to the double doors, and Mare-Do-Well followed close behind, sliding into the padded seat after the beige unicorn pointed her hoof toward it. “So did you want a drink?” the white-maned mare asked, her pen suspended above the pad in anticipation.
Mare-Do-Well took a moment to settle into her seat, then answered, “Just a glass of water, if you wouldn't mind.”
In a gesture Mare-Do-Well thought entirely unnecessary, Ivorymane scribbled a note onto her paper, then looked up and said, “Anything else?”
The purple-clad pony looked at the unicorn, then down at her empty table, then back up to the unicorn. After another moment of awkward silence, a look of realization appeared on the server's face. “Menu!” she blurted out, before her cheeks reddened with a blush, and she added a small menu to the list of objects her horn was currently holding in place. With a muttered apology, she floated the simple menu over the table and placed it in front of Mare-Do-Well.
A quick flip through the menu revealed that this particular establishment seemed to specialize in multiple varieties of flower sandwiches, from the cheap and always tasty “Daffodil Daisy Delight” to more exotic and expensive fare like the “Rhododendron and Rose Open-Faced Extravaganza.” Mare-Do-Well also couldn't help but notice that the words “hay fries” appeared in nearly every entree's list of sides. She looked up from the selections to see Ivorymane still standing next to her booth, her writing implement at the ready. “Um...shouldn't you be getting my drink?”
Ivorymane let out a frustrated groan. “I'm so bad at this!” she shouted through gritted teeth. “I'll be right back, okay?” she said quickly before walking through the swinging doors, bumping them open with a loud bang.
With her hostess momentarily gone, Mare-Do-Well swept her gaze around the restaurant one more time to ensure that nopony else was inside. Satisfied that she was alone, she swiftly removed her costume, using her hat as a container to hold all the pieces of the uniform. She breathed a contented sigh when her body was finally free of the full-body outfit, the warmth of the restaurant's interior making it difficult to stay comfortable in the tight purple piece. A glance outside showed that the rain was still going strong, so she returned her attention to the open menu before her. The longer she looked at it, though, the less she felt inclined to order anything; she simply wasn't very hungry.
Mare-Do-Well flipped the menu closed just as Ivorymane emerged from behind the double doors, a full glass of ice water firmly in the grip of her magic. With great concentration, she placed the drink on the table in front of her customer, then extracted the pen and pad from her apron once more, asking, “You figure out what you want?”
“I'm afraid that nothing looks good right now,” said Mare-Do-Well with a sympathetic smile. “I kind of ate a big breakfast.” She slid the menu back toward the beige unicorn. “Sorry.”
“It's fine,” said Ivorymane with a sigh. She extended the grasp of her magic to grab the menu, then tucked all three items back into her pockets. “Didn't expect us to do much business today anyways.” Another well-timed peal of thunder rolled through the empty streets.
Mare-Do-Well eyed her water for several seconds. When she turned back to the beige pony, she was doing her best to stifle a chuckle. “Ivorymane?” The waitress gave a quizzical look. “I think you forgot something.”
After another blank stare, a beige forehoof swiftly made contact with a face that was the same color, save for the tinge of red around the cheeks. Without a word, the embarrassed unicorn's horn lit up once again, this time pulling a straw from the pockets of her simple adornment and placing it in Mare-Do-Well's open hoof. With a quick tear, the straw was free of its wrapper, and Mare-Do-Well slid it easily into her water glass, taking a small sip. Her need for hydration temporarily sated, she smiled and looked up at Ivorymane. “Thanks.”
“No prob,” responded the still-blushing unicorn. The beige pony turned back toward the double doors, but then paused. With a look back at her guest, she said, “Hey, do you mind if I sit down for a while? Dad's kind of in a mood right now; I think he's trying to find the perfect sauce to make lilies mix with chrysanthemums or something, and he's not much fun to talk to when he's like that.” A loud boom indicated that the storm showed no signs of stopping. “Besides, I don't think I'll have to wait on anypony else for a little bit.
“Sure,” said Mare-Do-Well, gesturing her hoof toward the empty seat on the other side of the booth. While she normally wasn't one for company, she felt pangs of sympathy for this young, inexperienced waitress. As the unicorn shifted around to find a comfortable spot, Mare-Do-Well quickly hearkened back to their prior dialogue to find some appropriate fuel for small talk. A satisfactory subject came to mind. “So, you're in school, are you?”
“Yep,” said Ivorymane, her face lighting up slightly. “Manehattan University. This is my first year.”
“What course of study?” Mare-Do-Well leaned down and began slurping her water through the straw.
“I actually just decided on my major just before second semester started,” the unicorn said. “It took a while, but I'm studying History, specifically Archeology.”
Mare-Do-Well nearly spit her water all over the young waitress, but managed to swallow quickly, which resulted in a quick sequence of hacking coughs. As she blinked and attempted to clear her head, she heard Ivorymane ask, “Whoa, you gonna be okay there?”
With one last gasp, Mare-Do-Well nodded her head and said, “Just went down the wrong tube.” She swallowed again, then said, “Archeology, huh? I'm...surprised.”
Ivorymane gave a little laugh. “Most ponies are.” She ran a hoof through her mane as she continued, an air of confidence rising in her voice as she spoke about a familiar subject. “I know I come off as kind of an airhead, and most of the time I am, but for some reason, ever since I was little, I've always loved going to museums and learning about all these old artifacts and things that ponies have found on digs all over the world. They've fascinated me for as long as I remember, but I wasn't real sure about college. Sure, I'd love studying about that stuff, but all those other subjects would give me lots of trouble. Dad was insistent, though, so I pushed myself real hard and got good enough grades to get accepted.”
“So that's your passion, then? Archeology?”
“To be honest, I didn't know which program I needed to join at first; my adviser was pretty much a waste of space, so I just took a bunch of gen-eds, basic stuff, to get me started. I was barely passing those classes as it was, but I had no idea where to go from there. Then, near the end of my first semester, I saw something about a special lecture that the History Department was having, and I didn't have anything else to do, so I went. That's when I heard Daring Do speak.” Ivorymane's eyes got a far-off look, and she fell silent for several moments.
Mare-Do-Well broke the silence. “Daring Do?” The name almost sounded familiar, but no face came to mind.
Ivorymane snapped out of her trance. “Yeah, Daring Do.” She looked at Mare-Do-Well, who was doing her best to portray a completely blank face. “You've never heard of her?” Mare-Do-Well shook her head slowly, which prompted Ivorymane to say, “She's only one of the best archaeologists in the business! They've got a museum on campus full of stuff, and probably half of it came from her digs.” She idly waved a hoof. “Okay, maybe that's pushing it a little, but still.”
Mare-Do-Well tried to get back on track. “You said she gave a lecture?”
The beige pony nodded. “It was for ponies who were still on the fence about majors or specific courses, so I felt like I needed to go to it. She talked for an hour about one of her recent trips, telling us about every little detail of being an archaeologist like her. I couldn't believe it; it sounded perfect for me! After the lecture was over, I went up to her and started asking all kinds of questions, and she answered every single one of them. I found out what I needed to do to get into the Archeology program, how I could get tutoring or other help for my other classes, and all kinds of stuff. I felt like the door really opened for me after I talked with her, and the very next day, I dropped my old adviser and asked for her.”
“I bet she's been great,” said Mare-Do-Well, a soft smile on her face. For the first time in as long as she could remember, she was having a normal, everyday conversation with another pony, and she did feel a slight swelling of joy as the unicorn recounted her journey or discovery. On the other hoof, in light of recent events, the mention of the university's History Department had perked her ears up, and she felt a strong urge in her heart to continue speaking with the eager young waitress.
Ivorymane sighed. “Actually, at first, she couldn't fill that position. Some big discovery in...Zebrabwe, I think; she volunteered to be on that team and had to leave Equestria for a while. I got stuck with somepony else, but thanks to my talk with Daring Do, I knew what I needed to do. I started my second semester classes last month, and so far, it's looking good.” She waved her hoof toward the empty restaurant. “Just need to keep earning bits, y'know? Gotta pay tuition.”
“I understand,” said Mare-Do-Well. She took another short drink. “So when Daring Do gets back, will she become your adviser then?”
A frown fell over the unicorn's face. “Actually, that's the weird thing. She got back about a week ago, but I haven't seen her hardly at all. The one time I even got to talk to her, she was...different.”
Mare-Do-Well's countenance portrayed her confusion. “How so?”
“Didn't seem happy,” answered Ivorymane. “More...distracted, I thought. I asked her about it, but she said it wasn't anything to worry about. I didn't believe her, of course, but she insisted. Then, she told me something very...strange. She said she and Professor Annals found-”
“She and who?”
“Oh! Sorry. Professor Annals: he's like one of her best friends and partners, an older history professor, kinda quirky but really knows his stuff. Anyways, she and him apparently found something really amazing on their trip, but she wouldn't tell me any more than that, just that it was a secret right now, and they wouldn't show it until they could run a bunch of tests on it. It was pretty weird.”
Mare-Do-Well nodded in silence, but her brain immediately latched onto this new information and began to process her thoughts. Dr. Brier showed me the photo of that earth pony figurine; it arrived here, but got stolen before he could pick it up. If Daring Do and Professor Annals found something 'amazing' like Ivorymane says, Brier would be sure to keep it safe after that, especially if the thieves are targeting artifacts specifically. But if it's really 'amazing,' the Collector and his cronies would probably try to swipe it anyway. Would they go so far as to go after the ponies who found the thing in the first place, to try to get to it through them? An image popped into her mind: The imposing Germane pony was raising up a hoof to strike her as she lay prone on the warehouse floor. Likely.
Ivorymane's voice cut off her internal monologue. “You okay?”
Mare-Do-Well cleared her head and looked at the beige unicorn. “Hmm? Oh, yes, just fine.” She swung her head around to look out the front window; mercifully, the rain had lessened as the two mares had talked, and now it was no more than a light drizzle. Mare-Do-Well quickly snatched up her purple bundle and slid out of the cushioned booth seat, mumbling, “Excuse me,” as she began to move towards the door.
“You heading out?” the waitress asked, confusion etched onto her face.
Mare-Do-Well turned back to face her. “Yes, I really need to get going. Don't want to be late for the party. Don't worry, it's not far.” She began to spin around again, but stopped short and swiveled back to look at Ivorymane once again. “Best of luck with your studies,” she said, then added as she looked around the vacant eatery, “and your work.”
The perplexity on Ivorymane's face lessened a bit, and she said, “Thanks.” With a glance back to the previously occupied booth, she added, “What about your water?”
Mare-Do-Well smiled and answered, “You can have the rest.” Without awaiting a response, she swiftly exited the restaurant and returned to the cold sidewalk, trotting quickly through the calmer rain before ducking into the nearest alley. After making sure nopony else was around, she donned her costume, once again relishing the warmth it provided against the chilly wind and the showers that dropped from the gray, overcast sky. Once her body was thoroughly covered, she found the nearest fire escape and began her ascent to the rooftops again. She raced through the humid air, her body soon soaked by the soft but steady rainfall; a sense of urgency drove her hooves. Looks like I have two ponies to find.
“So, let me get this straight, Burner,” said Daring behind a hoof pressed firmly to her forehead; she could feel an impending headache beginning to form behind her closed eyes. “You've had this thing for more than a week, and still nothing new to tell me?” The hallway around the two ponies echoed her last question, and the pegasus made a mental note to keep the volume down while this conversation remained outside the confines of the nearby laboratory. She lowered her hoof and raised her eyes in the vainest of hopes.
Said hope was swiftly dashed when Burner's sheepish grin came into view, his cream-colored visage adorned with a smile that showed far too many braces and a slight blush on either cheek. She sighed, for about the tenth time in as many minutes, and turned away as he began to stammer out another apology, his hoof stroking the back of his neck just to make his stance even more awkward than before. “I-I'm sorry, Daring, but...the neutron activation analysis showed nothing out of the ordinary, and we couldn't scrape off a sample for the laser-induced breakdown spectroscopy, based on how...resilient the artifact is. We're fortunate it was small enough for us to do an NAA in the first place, but again, no definitive conclusions could be drawn from our test results, though we have one or two more experiments lined...up...” The scientist's monologue trailed off as he finally noticed the incredulous look that the pegasus mare was giving him. It was his turn to sigh. “I don't know what to tell you, Daring. None of us have ever seen anything even close to this before, and with all the tests coming back with data that flies in the face of logic...it makes no sense.” His gaze fell to the floor.
Daring felt a pang of pity for the unicorn with the lab coat that stood before her, dejected. Her own experiences with the figurine had been a dangerous combination of elation and frustration, and she could see the same emotions pouring out of her scientist friend. She patted his shoulder with a hoof and put on her best smile as he lifted his head to meet her gaze. “I know some of the science behind these tests, Burner, but could you break this down into laypony's terms a little?”
The subtlest flicker of happiness danced across the unicorn's irises, the opportunity to discuss his forte lightening his countenance, if only temporarily. “This thing looks delicate, like it should shatter if any sort of force is exerted upon it, but seemingly no amount of pressure can produce so much as a crack. But the NAA showed that there are no unusual elements present in its composition, and the numbers indicated that its makeup is similar to regular, everyday glass. We haven't been able to get a Magic and Enchantment Analysis yet, seeing as how Illusion is out of town on business.”
Daring nodded somberly. Illusion was the most experienced unicorn on staff in regards to magical study as it related to archeology, and she was often called upon in matters that related to magical relics or enchanted finds. Her ability to unravel the more mystical components of an artifact would have proven invaluable, but as usual, thought Daring, no such luck with this particular piece. After a moment's pause, she asked, “Could anypony else do the MEA?”
“Honestly,” responded Burner, “nopony else even wants to. They tell me 'it's because only Illusion would be qualified to handle something of this magnitude,' but I can see it in their faces: they're scared.” The unicorn let out a nervous chuckle. “I'm a little scared myself. What in Celestia's name did you find out there, Daring?”
Visions of her discovery of the tiny pegasus swarmed into Daring's mind. Remembering her discussion with Brier and Annals, she shook her head slowly to dispel the images as she answered, “I wish I knew, Burner.” Her eyes met his again. “Before I go, could I...see it?”
“Of course,” responded the scientist with a slight grin. He turned and walked through the door that led to the laboratory, Daring close behind.
As they descended deeper into the bowels of the area of the campus where the analysts of the History Department made their living, the pegasus let her vision wander to the various machines that hummed around her. Silently, she cursed them all, but just as quickly chided herself. These devices had provided pages upon pages of valuable data for the department, and she had been willing to dismiss them as useless pieces of junk merely because they hadn't shed any light on an artifact that had already given Daring fits? She blinked twice. This was so unlike her. Maybe I shouldn't see it again, she thought frantically, finding that her hooves were unwilling to listen to her brain's instructions as her body continued its forward motion. I should leave now, get home, get something to eat and calm down.
All her thoughts evaporated as both ponies reached their destination, and Daring came face-to-face once again with the tiny, transparent object that she had first laid eyes on in a cave in Zebrabwe that no longer existed. As with any samples brought back by the archaeological teams, the artifact had been placed in an airtight storage container, sealed behind a glass door with a padlock; only faculty and staff carried keys that could grant them access to the selection that lay inside. Despite this measure of security, as soon as she saw the transparent pegasus, a deep feeling of concern welled up in her stomach and began to pulse in her skull, the headache that had threatened earlier finally coming to fruition. At the same time, bile rose in her mouth, the taste of her revulsion assaulting her taste buds and causing her to smack her lips slightly in an unsuccessful effort to purge herself of the bitterness. Even though her head was now throbbing with pain and her mouth stung from the vile flavor that permeated it, she stared in rapt attention at the small pegasus.
This absurd mix of infatuation and seething hatred was something entirely new to the archaeologist. She wanted to take the accursed thing and smash it into microscopic shards, even though that task seemed implausible given her past experience with the object; yet, in the next breath, she felt as though she would gladly dedicate her entire being to keeping it safe by any means at her disposal. Her hooves were frozen to the floor, her body unable to tear her from the spot where she stood transfixed as she had been for so many nights after her acquisition of the artifact, its allure overpowering her desire to turn and leave it where it sat.
Burner's voice broke her free from her reverie. “It's strange,” he said softly. “I've been working in this lab for a long time now, always moving on to the next analysis, the next study. Sometimes I get so caught up in my work, I forget to step back and appreciate how beautiful these artifacts are...how important each discovery is to ponykind.”
Burner's stare was distant, the barest hint of a smile visible at the corners of his mouth. As she studied her friend's features, Daring realized that the same expressions the unicorn portrayed now were likely identical to the ones she had worn during the trip home from Zebrabwe, and she suddenly thought of Professor Annals, her concerned companion for the duration of their travels. A pang of regret struck her heart as she recalled his kind words and actions, his offer to relieve her of the burden of the figurine – both literally and figuratively – coming to the forefront of her mind. She saw the image of an extended hoof and a warm but tired smile, and a rush of guilt surged through her soul. The edges of her eyes began to moisten, threatening tears, before she tore her face away from the enrapturing relic and muttered, “Beautiful,” uttering the single word not because she was in agreement with Burner, but rather to placate him with a response. Not risking so much as a sidelong glance at the figurine, she turned and made her exit from the laboratory swiftly, but not too much so, wishing to avoid questions with her mind in the muddled state it was in.
Rather than fly back to her home, a journey of nearly half an hour, Daring opted instead for a cart cab, content to sacrifice a brief stint of physical exertion and a few bits for a chance to recline in her seat while somepony else trotted down the cobbled streets of Manehattan and returned her to her abode. While she was in good enough shape to make the trip under normal circumstances, her overworked brain had sapped her strength, especially after her recent interaction with the artifact, and she welcomed the chance to sit quietly with her thoughts, hoping to sort through and make sense of them. The road seemed rougher than usual this day, however, and her attempts to relax were hampered by the vibrations of the cart as it rolled roughly down the road, the earth pony who was pulling the cab apparently in a rush. Attempts to convince him to slow down proved pointless, as he was either hard of hearing or choosing to ignore the pushy pegasus seated behind him, and finally, Daring gave up and did her best to find a comfortable position in the jostling cab.
The reason for her charge's unusual speed soon came crashing down on the cart as the sky emptied in a torrent of chilly rain. Daring felt an embarrassed blush creep onto her face when the earth pony hitched to her cab went from dry to soaking in a matter of seconds, his soaked mane drooping around his head and his gait slowing once it was clear that his attempts to escape from the incoming rainstorm had failed spectacularly. Although she pitied the pathetic-looking stallion, whose checkered black and yellow cap and vest were doing absolutely nothing to prevent the deluge from saturating him from head to hoof, Daring found it impossible to contain a smirk when she realized what a good decision it had been not to fly today. Her humble transportation had just enough of a roof on it to prevent the drops of precipitation from encroaching into her seating space, though the floor below her seat rapidly transformed into a puddle of turbulent rainwater. A quick scan of her surroundings caused her expression to droop as she recognized one of the buildings they passed, its lighted sign showing through the sheets of rain. Her home was still more than a mile away. With a sympathetic glance at her driver, she began digging through her saddlebag until she found her bag of bits.
At long last, the cab came to a stop in front of Daring's single-story house. After the initial cloudburst, the downpour had lessened, but the rain still fell steadily as the pegasus stepped out of her seat and into the drizzle for the first time. Into her driver's tip pouch, she slid an amount of coins that she hoped would express her gratitude and understanding to the earth pony, and he managed a toothy grin at his generous passenger before trotting back out into the storm and vanishing around the next corner. After depositing her coins, Daring's hooves splashed over the walkway that had formerly consisted of stone, but now resembled a miniature rocky cliff by a stormy sea. She found refuge from the pelting precipitation under an awning above her door, and after recovering her key from her saddlebag and giving a vigorous shake to dispel the moisture that clung to her coat, she entered her abode at last.
Daring's day at the university had been long and tiring even before her unscheduled stop at the laboratory, and after depositing her saddlebag on her living room table, she slowly ambled into the kitchen. Her hooves went through the process of preparing a kettle of tea from muscle memory, and as her appendages moved of their own accord, her mind was free to review the events of the day. A morning that had consisted of overwhelming amounts of paperwork and scrawling her signature on documents that took far too long to read all the way through was quickly cast out of her head, hopefully forgotten forever. Her lackluster lunch at the on-campus eatery met the same fate; the sooner she forgot about that failed experiment, the sooner she could look at rutabagas normally again. Apparently, nothing from her afternoon had been particularly noteworthy either, as the only event she could recall from that span of time was accurately landing a crumpled sheet of paper in her wastepaper basket four consecutive times, tying a personal best. She resolved to not try out for a hoofball team any time soon.
One memory, however, ardently refused her attempts to delete it from her subconscious, and all too soon, she found herself once again standing stock-still, her brain replaying her brief but emotional encounter with the figurine from just over an hour ago. The headache, which had faded during her cab ride, returned, and though it wasn't quite as crushing as before, she still closed her eyes tight and clenched her teeth. In her mind, an image that had arisen innumerable times since Zebrabwe once again presented itself, a vision of the transparent pegasus so clear and vivid that Daring sincerely believed that if she closed her eyes and attempted to draw a picture of the model, it would be an exact representation. She had certainly spent enough time staring at it.
Annals' face suddenly interposed, causing the image of the figurine to shrink smaller and smaller until it vanished altogether, allowing the professor's visage to occupy the entirety of her internal perception. Her heart swelled as she saw her mentor's features exactly as they had been on board the airship carrying them over the sea, and how they had looked when she flashed back earlier that same day: exhausted and weary, yes, but as always, concerned and caring, full of compassion, and always willing to help out his friends.
The sharp whistle of her teakettle snapped her back to the present. Daring busied herself with pouring a hot cup of the soothing liquid, her throat welcoming the warmth with the first sip, and for the first time that day, Daring found that she was truly relaxed. As she continued to down the piping beverage, the pegasus surveyed her humble living quarters, from the thick wooden door that led to her bedroom, to the short hallway adorned with framed pictures of her friends and family, to the living room furnished with a small but thick-cushioned couch and a matching recliner. Her eyes suddenly fell upon a small pile near her front door, and she gently smacked her forehead with a hoof as she said, “Almost forgot the mail again.” After setting her half-full cup on the counter, Daring walked over to the stack of envelopes and began to hoof through them.
“Bill...bill...offer from the bank...something about the university newsletter...” The pegasus droned on as she set the letters aside one by one. When she reached the last, her eyes widened. Instead of the usual sealed envelope with typed return and recipient addresses, this piece of mail was nothing more than an index card-sized scrap of plain white parchment. Seeing nothing written on the side facing her, Daring turned over the mysterious mail to see what appeared to be hastily-scrawled letters scribed in blank ink. As she read the note, Daring's eyes widened. She lowered it with a hoof that trembled slightly and mused softly, “An address...in the Southern District? Why would Annals want to meet me there? I didn't think he lived in...that part of the city. It might not even be his home address; certainly doesn't sound familiar. Come to think of it, where was Annals today?” She racked her brain to run through the day once more and couldn't recall running into the professor at any point. A myriad of reasons for his absence flooded her mind, but she discarded them all as nothing more than conjecture as she continued to mull over the note. “'Urgent'...what could he be referring to?” Her eyes sparkled for a moment, and she drew in a gasp. “Of course! Something about the artifact!” She glanced at the clock on her mantel. “Better leave now if I want to get there in time.”
After hastily finishing the rest of her tea, Daring swept up her saddlebag from the living room table and practically burst through the front door. The rain had lessened to nothing more than a light shower, but the memory of her previous cab ride was still fresh in her mind, and she decided that traveling by wing would be a better choice. As she flared out her flying appendages and prepared for takeoff, a clap of thunder rattled her eardrums. On second thought, maybe I ought to just hoof it. She began to pound the pavement, her galloping hooves splashing into the newly-formed puddles that dotted the city streets and soaking them even further, if that was possible. Her mind, however, paid no heed to how soggy her coat was becoming or the chill that lingered in the moist air; for Daring Do, determination drove her every step as she ran through the darkening avenues towards the Southern District.
***
Mare-Do-Well was thoroughly saturated by the time she reached the village of Flora Park, a few minutes from downtown Manehattan. The cozy suburb, with its rustic and traditional building designs, including a brick firehouse and a domed town hall, was a stark contrast to the dull, faceless skyscrapers that lined the metropolitan streets. In the dull mist of the sprinkling rain, however, it took on an eerie ambiance, reminding the costumed pony of scenes from old horror films. As she ducked through the narrow alleys, Mare-Do-Well half-expected to see a shadowy, cloaked figure stalking through the streets of the town, or, more accurately, another shadowy, cloaked figure.
A brief stop at Manehattan University had allowed the purple-clad pony brief access to a campus directory, borrowed from the desk of an absent chemistry professor, and she had quickly committed the address of one “Professor Annals” to memory. While she wasn't surprised to see that the history professor didn't live in the heart of the city, his home address in Flora Park had caused her to raise an eyebrow. That town was notorious for its high cost of living, but Mare-Do-Well figured the professor had been working at his job long enough to afford a more refined caliber of home. Even though her business was serious, she hadn't been able to suppress a slight giddiness at the prospect of visiting the rich suburb, but her excitement had been quelled when she arrived to find that the buildings had taken on an air reminiscent of a Romareo movie. Her heart pounded a little harder than usual in her chest as she crept through the darkening night.
Almost nopony was out, as expected, and Mare-Do-Well was able to avoid the few stragglers she spied easily. Finally, after stealing through the streets, she finally arrived at the house. Annals' dwelling was a modest affair, a tri-level home that rested on the peak of a gentle slope. One detail Mare-Do-Well was surprised that she noticed was the proximity of Annals to his neighbors; being so used to her apartment and an exorbitant amount of noise complaints, she was always a little taken aback when she visited a neighborhood where any amount of space existed between domiciles. In the deepening twilight and misty sheets of light rain, with few street lamps or house lights illuminated yet, she could only make out the silhouettes of the addresses that were adjacent to Annals'. The professor's own home betrayed not even the slightest hint of light, a fact that Mare-Do-Well found both comforting and disturbing.
There were only two trees in Annals' yard, not nearly enough to provide cover, so with quick glances to make sure the streets were empty, Mare-Do-Well darted across the lawn and took cover against the higher side of the house, pressing herself against the wall. She took a moment to calm her breathing, but was surprised to still hear noises as she inhaled and exhaled silently. Cocking her head to one side, she listened intently. A stallion's high-pitched voice drifted to her ears. “Horseapples, this wasn't supposed to happen.”
Another, deeper voice followed soon after. “Well, it did, and we can't do anything about it now. May as well look around and see if we can find anything that'll help out.” Mare-Do-Well glanced around, still focusing on the conversation inside, and finally spotted a window several feet to her right; it was open just enough to let the sound drift through. She scooted closer and crouched low to the ground beneath it, perking her ears up once again.
The higher voice spoke again. “Look around? Just look around? That's your solution?” Hoofsteps on tile. “How is that gonna solve anything, huh?”
Silence lingered for a moment, then the other voice broke it. “We might find something, y'never know. 'Sides, it's not like we can do anything else. Don't wanna come back empty-handed, right?”
Mare-Do-Well almost swore she could hear an audible gulp. “True.”
“Well then don't just stand there; get going! We don't have a whole lot o' time.” There were more hoofsteps, initially clacking on the tile, then muffled as though on carpet. Soon, Mare-Do-Well could hear nothing but gusts of wind and the subdued clatter of the rain. She slowly rose up and peered through the window.
As the night had grown darker, the costumed pony's eyes had adjusted accordingly, and her eyesight was sufficient for her to study the scene before her. The window was positioned above a kitchen sink, and Mare-Do-Well quickly scanned the room, noticing nothing out of place at first. The kitchen was connected to a living room of some sort, if the shadowy shapes of two couches were any indication; walls prevented Mare-Do-Well from investigating the house any further. Her eyes drifted down. A dark lump lay on the tiled kitchen floor; as she looked harder, she realized with horror that it was the prone form of a pony. She slowly opened the window, careful not to make a sound, and climbed over the sill. As she delicately stepped onto the counter top, her left hoof made contact with a foreign object; she withdrew her leg swiftly and looked down to see a plate on the kitchen counter, the shape of a sandwich with several bites missing resting atop the platter. She shrugged off the sight and descended slowly from her perch until she stood on the floor next to the motionless form.
Even with her adjusted vision, it was difficult to see all the details of the pony's face. It looked to be an older stallion, a unicorn, with a pair of thick glasses bent awkwardly and skewed across his nose. I think I just found Annals, the pony in purple pondered. She pressed her ear to his barrel. Nothing. With a soft sigh, she raised her head back up and looked at his face again. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw his eyes. The lids were wide open, revealing the two glassy white orbs beneath, frozen in a fixated look of sheer terror and shock, accentuated by his slightly agape mouth. As she stared, Mare-Do-Well shivered, the gravity of the grisly scene before her coming to light. One of the two ponies that she had needed to find lay before her on the floor of his own kitchen, lifeless. She had been too late, and now he was dead, likely at the hooves of the two ponies she'd heard earlier. She muttered a silent curse. Too late...not the first time.
A memory, long buried, suddenly dredged itself up, threatening to wash over her just like the rain had earlier; she trembled against the cold again as she fought with all her will to retain control of her errant thoughts. Tears began to form, but she blinked them back, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly as she wrestled her own mind. She dared one more look at the professor's face, but it was no longer a unicorn beneath her; now, it was an earth pony, and every detail of the cold, still visage that stared at her, yet saw nothing, was clear as day. Mare-Do-Well shut her eyes tight, beating back a new onrush of tears and a fresh stream of visions that threatened to carry her back, so far back...No! Her forehoof rose up and struck her soundly across the face, seemingly of its own accord, and her scrambled thoughts quickly dispelled the intruding memories and restored some semblance of order to her brain. She looked down at Annals, and was almost relieved to see that it was indeed the professor. Almost.
A crash from deeper within the house alerted her that she had already lingered too long. Leaving the professor's side, she deftly climbed atop the counter and slipped back through the window, swinging the shutters back to their original position once again before dropping to the ground. Moments later, the hoofsteps returned, clacking on the tile, and Mare-Do-Well heard the high voice again. “Think this'll be good enough?”
“It'll have to be,” responded the deeper voice. “Couldn't find anything else useful. What'd you-”
Mare-Do-Well almost leaped out of her skin as a loud thud resonated through the house and echoed out the window. She heard scrambling hooves clatter across the tile as another voice, that of a middle-aged mare, rang through the house, “Annals, dear, are you home?” Another crash burst through the air; the murderers had run out the back door. The new mare's voice was shouting something, but Mare-Do-Well didn't hear it; she was instantly on her hooves and galloping hard, desperate to get on the trail of the two perpetrators. When she rounded the corner of the house, she spied two dark figures disappearing into the night, and without a second thought, she sprang forward to follow them. As she reached the edge of the yard, a piercing wail penetrated the air of Flora Park, and as Mare-Do-Well ran full speed after the mysterious ponies, her heart broke for the mare who had just discovered the lifeless body of her husband. With new resolve, the costumed pony continued her pursuit, pity and rage fueling her hooves as she rushed through the blackness after her quarry.
Daring Do squinted against the glare of the tiny bulb that lit the tiny interrogation room. Her eyes narrowed as its incandescence glowed on, unfeeling and cold, giving the room an ambiance that was both depressing and soulless. Three plain, uninteresting gray walls were to her sides and behind her, and another wall of the same color, its featureless face interrupted by both a matching door and a sheet of glass Daring knew to be a two-way mirror, completed the cell-like room. The chair in which she sat was metal, with no cushion, and cold against her rump, and the faux wooden table that sat before her was plain, lacking any defining characteristics aside from its dull, dark brown finish. The twin to her current seating arrangement stared back at her from across the boring furniture, looking just as uncomfortable as hers. Lacking anything else to focus on, to take her mind off the evening's earlier events, Daring had resorted to a staring contest with the light bulb that was suspended over the middle of the table. It didn't seem likely she was going to win.
After a spirited battle, Daring finally turned her gaze away from the searing light, blinking rapidly. Circles of color swirled in her vision, but even the presence of those splotches of light that danced behind her eyelids and glowed briefly every time her eyes shut was not enough to make the room any more interesting. She inhaled deeply, then let out an elongated sigh as the spherical lights finally dissipated, allowing her to view the confined space in which she had been thrown with clarity once more. She quickly turned her face back up toward the bulb, desperate for another go.
Truth be told, her competition with the light source was a welcome distraction, given the way the rest of her night had gone. Once the police had arrived on the scene to find her sitting next to two unconscious ponies, a few stray tears leaving their marks on her cheeks, the officers had been all questions. While understandable, it had quickly become an annoyance when she realized that their lines of questioning seemed to indicate that she was a suspect. Her belligerence had not helped matters, and despite giving her version of what had transpired in front of the decrepit apartment building, she had been taken to the station for more questions. Her unceremonious deposit in this tiny, cramped room was further proof that the keepers of the law were not keen to believe her story.
And then there was the matter of Annals. The mysterious purple-clad pony that had leaped in to stop Daring's would-be assailants had explicitly told her that her professor friend had been murdered that very night, but when she posed the question to the police, all she had received were suspicious looks and inquisitions. When she'd had time to think back, Daring came to the conclusion that speculating about the murder of somepony else was not a wise thing to bring up when discovered at a crime scene with two ponies who were out cold, but the unresolved issue of the truth about Annals still weighed on her mind. The absence of police presence in the room with her only allowed the mysterious mare's revelations to stew in Daring's already-addled brain, and she was trying her very best to use the staring match with the light bulb as a way to suppress the emotion that had been building steadily inside her for the last half-hour as she sat in the cold, unwelcoming room, waiting for yet another police pony to trot in and accuse her of something.
Anger.
The door swung open with a creak that grated on Daring's ears. She tore her eyes away from the bulb – it was on an incredible winning streak, and unlikely to relinquish its crown in the foreseeable future – and watched as an unfamiliar middle-aged mare in a Manehattan police pony's uniform entered the room, the officer's slow gait and drooping eyelids an indication of the effects of the late hour. With a poorly-stifled yawn, the mare took a seat opposite Daring and turned to the pegasus, her mouth opening as though to pose a question. Daring had been waiting long enough. “What took you so long?” she snapped; some part of her mind told her to tone down the aggression, but it was quickly shouted down.
The uniformed mare snapped back as though she'd been slapped. “Miss Do, I'm not sure if you're aware, but any investigation we conduct involves a great deal of paperwork, and this department is responsible for a very active portion of the city. Yours is not the only incident that occurred tonight.”
Daring's voice was dripping with bile. “I know that. One of my best friends was murdered, officer Who-Gives-A-Buck, and I almost was! I'd say that should take precedence over some unpaid parking tickets.”
The officer's eyes narrowed, and Daring could see that she was doing her very best to remain calm. “First of all, my name is Officer Beat. Second, I am very sorry for your loss, Miss Do, and I assure you the police are doing everything in their power to uncover the truth surrounding the death of Professor Annals. Let me remind you, the autopsy report has yet to be finalized by the medical examiner, so until we hear his findings-”
“I know, I know, keep my theories to myself, just like the last guy said,” Daring said with a dismissive wave. Every little thing about this conversation was ratcheting up her level of fury. I was assaulted, for Celestia's sake! And Annals was killed, I'm sure of it! How can these not be related? With great restraint, she kept her mouth closed and merely stared daggers at the tired pony across the table.
“Thank you,” said the officer in a tone that showed no gratitude whatsoever. She produced a pad and pen from her uniform and continued in a much quieter voice, “Now, could you please tell me exactly what happened again?”
Daring's hoof rose to her face and struck her forehead, and she sighed in exasperation. Better my face than hers, she thought quickly as she regained a small measure of composure. “I already told the other officer everything. Why do you need me to tell you too?” In a voice she hoped was quiet enough to avoid detection, she added, “Not like we haven't wasted enough time already.”
Either Beat didn't hear her, or she chose to ignore the snide statement. “New evidence has come to light, Miss Do, and we need you to corroborate something. Now, specifically, why don't you tell me about the strange pony that you say 'swooped in to save you'?”
Daring's night had been full of so many curiosities that she had trouble keeping track of them all, but one event she could remember quite vividly was her encounter with...Mare-Do-Well, was it? At the officer's behest, she began a detailed description of her incapacitation at the hooves of her attackers – despite her best efforts to the contrary – and the subsequent arrival of the pony in purple who had shown impressive strength and athletic prowess in her disposal of the two hooded figures. Even telling the story a second time, she found the very words pouring out of her mouth difficult to believe, but she had witnessed nearly the whole thing with her own eyes. When she reached the section of the story where the mysterious mare had shared her rather troubling information, the officer seemed more intent and focused, but Daring felt a fresh upwelling of sadness when she retold how the news of Annals' demise had been shared with her. She shook her head and cast her sorrow aside. As she came to the conclusion of her tale, in which the masked hero beat her hasty retreat at the sound of the sirens, Daring felt her anger subside slightly. She looked at the other pony in the small room, her curiosity piquing as she asked, “Why did I need to tell you all that again?”
The officer, who had been writing in her notepad during Daring's story, looked up from her scribblings and said, “As I said earlier, we've received some new evidence. Officers in the Flora Park district interviewed Annals' wife Lea after she discovered his body, and after speaking with them, we've uncovered something rather...interesting.” Beat flipped to the front page of her notepad. “It seems that there may be more than one link between these two crimes, Miss Do,” the uniformed pony said as she scanned the paper, finally tapping her hoof as she found what she wanted. “Apparently, she heard noises in her house just before she found Annals, and she caught a glimpse of a pony out her back door.”
“Aha!” shouted Daring, startling the other mare out of her speech. “So he was murdered!”
The officer raised a hoof. “Calm down, Miss Do.” Daring shut her mouth, the fire of frustration beginning to rise once again in her heart. “She saw the pony for only an instant,” continued the uniformed mare, “but she told us one curious detail: it wore a cape.”
A knot formed in Daring's throat for a moment, but she swallowed to clear her airway and asked, “And what does that have to do with me?”
“Our officers searched the area,” said Beats, her tone deadpan. “In the rosebushes on the edge of Annals' property, they found a small fragment of fabric, apparently torn from the outfit of the pony or ponies who fled from the house. This sample was colored purple, just like the uniform you described on the mare that supposedly took out your assailants.”
Suddenly, Daring found it very difficult to breathe. The words of the mysterious costumed mare from earlier in the evening came flooding back to her, a startling suspicion accompanying the memories. She knew my name...she knew who I was there to meet...how did she know where I would be in the first place? The pegasus' jaw lowered slowly, her mouth agape in what was surely a ridiculous look. Right now, concerns about her visage were the least of her worries as her mind worked through the rest of her conversation with Mare-Do-Well. She said that Annals was killed, but she never said by whom. Could it have been...
She shook her head violently, trying to settle her thoughts. As the newly-divulged information still swirled around her brain, she said the first thing that came tumbling out of her mouth: “What?”
The officer's tone was businesslike, betraying next to no emotion. “The forensic evidence, at least initially, seems to suggest that whatever happened to Annals and your incident in the Southern District may both revolve around the pony who 'saved' you. Honestly, nobody in the department took you seriously when you testified that your rescuer was dressed in such a ridiculous get-up, but with this new evidence, looks like it's possible. Obviously, our investigation is still in the early stages, but I admit, this seems too strange to be a coincidence.”
Daring nodded numbly, her mind taking its time processing all she had just heard. The arrival of the costumed pony had certainly been timely, jumping in to take down her attackers just before something truly disastrous had transpired. A voice laced with doubt crept into Daring's subconscious. It's almost too convenient. Smells an awful lot like a setup.
But she knocked those two hooded ponies out cold! Are you saying that was just part of a setup?
They did seem to go down awfully easily. And the other ran off without even putting up a fight. Don't tell me that's not suspicious.
I saw the terror in his eyes.
That can be faked.
Her internal argument was interrupted by the police mare's concerned voice. “Miss Do?”
Even though a sea of emotions was churning in Daring's consciousness, and all manner of wild theories were being posed by her tired brain, the pegasus answered, “Sorry, I'm all right. Just very strange, is all. It's been a...crazy night.”
For the first time since arriving in the room, Officer Beat managed a soft smile. Daring imagined that it would have looked pleasant or comforting if the setting had been less imposing. Beat said, “I imagine it has.” She scooped up her stationery and writing instrument and placed them back inside her uniform, then continued as she rose to her feet, “Well, I'd say we're done here. There's no reason for us to hold you any longer, but if something else comes up, we'll be sure to contact you.” The mare trotted to the door and opened it, stepping through into the hallway beyond. “Would you like a police escort back to your home?” she asked, turning her head back toward the pegasus.
Before Daring could answer, another pony came into view behind the officer, a young unicorn stallion with glasses perched on the bridge of his nose and a file floating in front of his face, lit by the same green glow that emanated from his horn. His eyes fixated on the information before him, he said, “Beat, I got that autopsy report you wanted.” He looked up, ready to continue his speech, but stopped short when he caught sight of Daring, who was watching from the interrogation room, having just risen from her chair. “Oh, sorry,” he stammered, “didn't know you weren't done. I'll come back.”
Daring's eyes widened, and she raised a hoof as the newcomer began to turn away. “Wait!” she shouted, the sound ricocheting harshly through the confined space of the bland room. Both ponies in the hall looked at the pegasus, and satisfied that she had his attention, Daring addressed the stallion, trying not to sound desperate in spite of her rapid heart rate. “Is that the report for Professor Annals?”
The unicorn looked dumbfounded as he fumbled out a response. “How did you...who are...”
Beat attempted to calm the eloquent stallion with a hoof on his shoulder. “It's okay, Sever. She's a friend of the victim.” Her smile from earlier returned, and Daring felt her anger from earlier all but disappear. “I think she has a right to know the truth.”
The unicorn stared blankly at the uniformed mare for a moment, then exclaimed, “Oh! Of course, the results.” Using his magic, in one swift motion, he opened the file and pushed his glasses up towards his eyes. After clearing his throat, he began, “The cause of death was cardiac arrest, likely due to shock induced by extreme stress. The coroner uncovered no evidence of foul play: no bruising, no traces of anything in his blood or organs, no fresh scrapes or cuts.” He looked up from the paper and added, “Looks like it was a heart attack.”
Clearly, Daring's anger had not yet disappeared entirely, because her shout was loud enough to cause both the mare and the stallion in the hallway to flinch. “A heart attack?! How can that be it?!”
Sever struggled to formulate an answer, but managed, “That's what the medical examiner found, miss.”
Beat's smile was gone as she spoke in a firm tone to the suddenly-hostile pegasus. “Calm down, Miss Do. Please keep your voice low.”
Daring gritted her teeth, seething. “Sorry,” she said with a growl. “I'm fine.” She quickly exited the room, brushing past both the affronted police mare and the stallion, then turned back and said, “Oh, and officer, I won't need any police escorts. I can take care of myself.” Without awaiting a response, Daring resumed her brisk trot out of the station, avoiding eye contact with any of the ponies that she encountered in the halls. None of their faces even registered to the incensed pegasus; the only thoughts that occupied her mind were about Annals and the mysterious mare in purple. A heart attack? She said he was murdered!
The voice of doubt made its return. Even more evidence that she wasn't telling the truth. Based on what the police found and the fact that she lied about Annals, it's looking more and more certain that she had something to do with it.
This time, Daring did nothing to quell the suspicions that stirred inside her. Her fury had returned full force, and she found herself pouring every ounce of hatred into a list of reasons why the mysterious mare who had so suddenly come out of the night and “dispatched her attackers” was guilty of some heinous crime. As she flung blind accusation after blind accusation at the faceless pony, a knot began to form in her heart, almost unnoticed by the irate pegasus. Finally, after her mind had managed to squeeze the pony in purple into a position in the evening's events that Daring wouldn't have thought even remotely feasible not an hour ago, her overactive mind came to a full stop.
Daring stopped walking, vaguely aware that she was on the sidewalk less than two blocks away from the Manehattan police station. A single thought drove out any other information that may have lingered in her consciousness, including her whereabouts. Tears began to form in the corners of her eyes, and she made no effort to quell their advances as her entire cognitive process focused on a single subject.
“Annals.” Her voice was a whisper, choked out amidst the continued assault of tears. She'd wept after her assault that night, but those tears had been a result of many things, mostly as a means of relieving her troubled mind after the attack by the three mysterious ponies. Amidst the flurry of questions, the seemingly endless wait in the interrogation room, and the conversations that had contained strange revelation after strange revelation, she had not yet taken the opportunity to mourn. Now, as she stood on the lamp-lit street, surrounded only by faceless buildings and cold asphalt, her sorrow poured out of her freely, evidenced by the twin streaks of moisture that ran down her cheeks and onto her chin, only to plummet to the cold sidewalk below. Her body heaved and twitched with each wracking sob, and her breath came in gasps as the full weight of her friend's death came to bear on her shoulders, seeping into her body and clutching at her heart and lungs with crushing force. Her golden yellow head drooped down as the crying continued, her greyscale mane concealing her face. If anypony walked by, she didn't notice them, and they said nothing to her.
The vision of Annals' face from earlier in the day returned to Daring as she sobbed. Every memory of his kindness, his quirks, and his love for their shared profession streamed through her brain like a film reel, and her tears gradually subsided as she relived each moment spent with her dear friend, from their first meeting on the campus grounds to their discussions about the figurine from the Zebrabwe desert. Daring's thoughts paused as she came back to the subject of the strange artifact, as they had done so often in the two months since its discovery. Annals' words of wisdom to her concerning the mysterious pegasus came floating back through her subconscious, and she could almost hear his soft voice as he spoke to her, his eyes heavy with lack of sleep but still filled with concern for Daring: “You mustn't let it overtake you so.”
The pegasus sniffed, the last of her tears dropping from her face to join the thin puddle that decorated the sidewalk beneath her, and she wiped the residual moisture from her eyes and cheeks with a foreleg. When she found her voice, it was no more than a whisper. “I'll try, professor. Thank you.” She raised her head slowly to see that she was still alone on the street. Daring scanned the asphalt in either direction, looking for signs of an oncoming cab; she saw none. With a sigh and one final sniffle, she reared back and spread her wings wide, leaping off the sidewalk and into the air in one swift motion.
In order to cut down on incidents involving flying criminals, the Manehattan police kept a strict policy that all flying in the downtown areas of the city had to occur below the ten-story mark, and at least a token air force was maintained by the city in order to enforce that ordinance. As a result, instead of simply ascending above the skyscrapers and winging it in a straight line back to her house, Daring, more out of habit than anything else, remained at a comfortable cruising altitude as she soared above the quiet city streets. Only a few vehicles passed underneath the pegasus during the entirety of her flight home. At last, she arrived in her neighborhood, and with a quick flutter of her wings, Daring descended to the pavement in front of her house. Her porch light shone brightly in the night as she trotted to her front door and opened it with her key. She closed her front door and was met with the darkness of her unlit interior. Unfazed by the darkness, the pegasus reached over to the wall and flipped the switch, blinking once as the once-black room was now bathed in light from the ceiling. Daring let out a sustained yawn as she ventured further into her house, her steps slow and measured to compensate for her tiredness. The hour had certainly grown late, and her overburdened mind was ready to rest, or at least make a valiant attempt to do so.
She raised a hoof to open her bedroom door, but froze when she heard a voice from behind her. This was not just a strange voice echoing through her house, however; this was a voice that triggered very recent memories in her mind, none of which were exceptionally pleasant. A chill that was equal parts fright and fury ran down Daring's spine as the words that the disembodied voice spoke drifted to her perked-up ears, a short and simple sentence that shook the pegasus to her core.
Mare-Do-Well rose from her hiding place behind the couch in Daring Do's living room as the pegasus trudged into the hallway slowly, yawning as she disappeared from sight. The allure of sleep beckoned to the pony in purple, but a shake of her head helped provide her with clarity as she tiptoed quietly around the sparse furnishings to follow her quarry closely. She pinned herself against the wall silently and peered around the corner, watching as the golden-colored mare approached the door of what Mare-Do-Well assumed was her bedroom. As the archeologist raised her hoof, Mare-Do-Well stepped out from her cover, and with a smirk concealed by her mask, she spoke the line that she had waited to utter ever since her arrival in the single-story house: “So, Miss Do, we meet again.”
The pursuit through Flora Park had been surprisingly brief. The two ponies who fled the scene, both of whom were stallions, never looked back to see that they were not alone, and their gait had slowed to a casual walk after only two blocks. Just in case, Mare-Do-Well had kept her distance from the suspects, ducking in and out of the shadows to avoid detection while keeping the ponies in her sights. Their route had taken them toward the Southern District, and Mare-Do-Well doubled her efforts to remain hidden as her prey trotted through the dim streets. She heard the hushed tones of an intense conversation, but she could only make out fragments and syllables of the discussion between the perpetrators. At last, the two had stopped in front of a decrepit Itailian restaurant, and Mare-Do-Well crept as close as possible through the alleys nearby, attempting to eavesdrop. Unfortunately, the two stallions had taken that opportunity to cease speaking as they loitered outside the restaurant; after a few minutes, it became clear what they were waiting for as a third stallion approached the pair. This third pony struck a chord in Mare-Do-Well's memory; she wracked her brain trying to recall where she had encountered him before. Before she could put her hoof on it, the trio began to converse, and this time, Mare-Do-Well was able to hear them all clearly.
The newcomer was the first to speak. “So where's the professor?” The costumed mare stiffened slightly; his voice gave away his identity, and Mare-Do-Well clearly remembered the weaselly tone of the greasy earth pony that she had so satisfyingly sent sprawling. She dared to peek around the corner for an instant for a better view, and her suspicions were confirmed. His mane was slightly different, but the body type was a direct match for the overeager stallion. She quickly withdrew her head and continued to listen.
The higher-pitched of the two stallions from Annals' house responded, his voice shaky, “We...uh...didn't get him.”
“What?!” The greasy-haired pony seemed rather displeased with this answer. “What do you mean? Did something go wrong?”
“I just don't know,” chimed in the lower-pitched stallion. “When we got there, the old guy wasn't even home. Must've missed him or something.”
“That what happened?” snapped the greasy stallion.
The high-pitched stallion stammered out, “Yeah, yeah, that's what happened. Nopony was there at all. We turned the place upside-down looking for anything useful, but...”
“Nothing,” the stallion with the deeper voice finished.
“Well why didn't you wait around for him to come home?” snarled the greasy pony.
Now it was the lower-pitched stallion's turn to falter. “We figured you...might...need some help out here.”
The greasy-haired stallion snorted, then added with a confident air, “As if I need any help bringing in one mare.” He sighed, then added, “Whatever. As long as you numbskulls are here, you might as well make yourselves useful. Do not think this means you're off the hook, though.” Mare-Do-Well listened intently as the earth pony shared his plan with the two others. “You two wait inside the front door, and I'll corner the mare on the porch. Soon as you can, slip in behind her and cut her off. I hear this one's a pegasus, so be ready to tackle at a moment's notice. Think you can handle that?” Silence passed, during which Mare-Do-Well assumed the two lackeys gave nods of agreement. “Good. Now, let's go. The note we planted said to meet him at the address in...about half an hour, so move it.” Trotting hooves indicated that the three ponies were carrying out their designated assignments.
Mare-Do-Well hesitated for only a moment. Which ones should I follow? While trailing the greasy stallion, who appeared to be the superior of the other two, would likely lead her directly to Daring Do, she deduced that not only would it put her in a more difficult position, but the chance of him recognizing her costume and abandoning his plan was not worth the risk. If these ponies were truly after Daring Do, she needed to earn the other mare's trust. And the best way to do that, she concluded, is to ambush the ambush. She turned the corner and glanced into the night, catching a glimpse of a very familiar sight: the back ends of two ponies who were galloping away from her. With a quick look around to ensure nopony else was watching, Mare-Do-Well sped into the night after the same ponies she had been pursuing since Flora Park.
The neighborhoods in the Southern District became more and more unsavory as the costumed mare continued to tail the two perpetrator ponies. Crumbling brick walls dotted with graffiti and barred windows were more frequent the further south she ran, and in the dim, foggy twilight that still bore traces of the moisture from earlier in the day, it was easy to be intimidated by the looming, sparsely-lit buildings. Mare-Do-Well, however, had spent a great deal of time in this section of Manehattan during her nightly rounds, and instead of fear, a strange sort of excitement fueled by adrenaline coursed through her veins as she galloped, causing her heart to race and pound in her head with each rapid beat. Her quarry also seemed to carry themselves with confidence as they raced through the empty streets towards their destination.
All three ponies slowed as the two in the lead approached an apartment building that for all appearances was like every other one on the same street, decorated with spray painted swear words and strange symbols, with windows that looked like they belonged to a prison cell. The stallions wasted no time and ducked inside the front door, laying the trap. Mare-Do-Well grinned as she surveyed the small stoop and the railings on either side; neither were insurmountable obstacles for somepony of her athletic capabilities. Satisfied that she could spring her own trap with ease, she slunk into the dark alley adjacent to the structure and waited, her breathing overpowering any background noise. A wave of tiredness hit her as she sat in anticipation, but her senses remained sharp and vigilant, her mind focusing on the arrival of a mare that had drawn an unusual amount of interest from several different parties, including herself.
The fight was over swiftly. The two stallions, their faces hidden by hoods, were caught completely unawares by the costumed mare as she leaped out of the darkness and dispatched them with well-placed kicks. Unsure of what the greasy pony's reaction would be, she had simply given him a cold, unblinking stare from her mask, and he had fled into the night, the fear and recognition apparent on his face. Mare-Do-Well grinned as she watched the stallion flee, making note of her second victory in as many interactions with the perverted pony.
Her conversation with Daring Do, on the other hoof, had not been nearly as long as she'd hoped. Not surprisingly, the pegasus had been reluctant to speak with her at first, but Mare-Do-Well had finally been able to share the hard news about Annals and inform Daring of the plot against her. The sirens had been unexpected; some concerned citizen had apparently heard or seen the commotion, and the purple-clad pony abandoned her talk with the other mare and fled off into the night once again, not willing to stick around and be apprehended by Manehattan's finest. As Mare-Do-Well beat her hasty retreat, she knew her next destination already: Daring Do's house. While the pegasus might be safe for the time being, once the police had finished their questioning and she was back on the streets, the Collector's minions would undoubtedly be back on her tail.
The costumed pony maneuvered the dark streets of Manehattan almost from memory, her thoughts free to roam as her body seemed to carry itself through alley after alley and past the silent facades of the tall buildings. A nagging doubt began to creep into her mind: Does Daring believe me? She tried to shake off the misgiving, but it lingered in her mind as she continued to traverse through Manehattan. How would I feel if some pony dressed in a costume suddenly showed up and started telling me all the things I told her? I'd probably think they were crazy, regardless of whether or not they just saved my flank. Mare-Do-Well did all she could to quell the festering doubts and questions, soldiering on until she had arrived at Daring's address, memorized earlier from the same faculty guide that she had utilized to find Annals' place of residence. On a whim, she tried the front door and, to her great surprise, found it unlocked. Not daring to turn on any lights, Mare-Do-Well closed the door, still unlocked, then stepped through the darkness and sunk to the floor behind the couch in the living room. Now to play the waiting game.
The waiting game went far longer than expected. As she hid in the blackness of the otherwise-empty abode, Mare-Do-Well took the opportunity to catch her breath after all the events of that night, from her discovery of Annals' body to her timely rescue of Daring Do. Even in her time of repose, however, her muscles ached and protested as she crouched low to the floor in her hiding place, and no matter how she shifted, some part of her seemed to cry out in discomfort. A haze began to form at the edge of her consciousness, threatening sleep, and she replayed her encounters from throughout the evening over and over in her head to both pass the time and fight off the urge to collapse to the carpeted floor and succumb to the sweet embrace of slumber. When she had cycled through those memories, she shifted her concentration from the past to the future, planning ahead for her conversation with Daring that she hoped would fill in the holes from their earlier talk. Finally, just when Mare-Do-Well thought she couldn't stay lucid any longer, the sound of the opening door drove back the tired haze and snapped her to attention.
Now, as she addressed the pegasus with the golden yellow coat for the second time that night, she was at full awareness, the temptation of sleep averted as adrenaline worked its wonders on her system once again. Having uttered her line to attract Daring's attention, Mare-Do-Well watched as the other mare turned around slowly, soon coming face-to-face with the purple-clad pony. Even before she spoke, Mare-Do-Well saw the pegasus' haggard look; she felt a pang of pity as she imagined how the night's stresses had heaped themselves upon the pony before her.
That pity, however, quickly gave way to confusion when the golden mare responded to Mare-Do-Well's statement in a seething voice that caused a slight chill to run down the costumed pony's spine. “Here to finish the job?” Dark pink eyes narrowed beneath a ruffled greyscale mane, rage present across the entirety of the pegasus' visage.
The statement from the clearly-incensed pony made no sense, at least to Mare-Do-Well. Stricken dumb for a moment, she finally asked in her deeper, disguised voice, “What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean,” the pegasus spat back. “First it was Annals, now me. I don't know what you're really after, 'Mare-Do-Well,' but I won't go down easy.” Daring's head dipped low, and both wings began to flare out in an instinctual gesture of intimidation.
All the doubts that had crept into Mare-Do-Well's mind earlier came storming back. A theory popped into her head, but she needed to conduct some questioning before she could confirm its legitimacy. “Are you accusing me of something, Miss Do?” she asked, attempting to keep her voice calm and steady even as her heart increased its rate.
“Don't play dumb!” shouted Daring, the loud volume in the confined space ringing sharply against Mare-Do-Well's ears. “You want me to believe you just came in out of nowhere and took down those other two ponies, like some big hero, but you're nothing more than a liar.”
A surge of anger to match the golden pegasus' tore through Mare-Do-Well's body, and her response was harsh, spoken through gritted teeth and with as much self-restraint as she could muster. “When exactly did I lie?”
“Annals,” Daring said in a harsh whisper. “You told me he was murdered.”
“What are you talking about?” said Mare-Do-Well softly, her ire tinged with confusion.
“You said Annals was murdered,” Daring said, her voice louder and more emphatic, “but I heard the coroner's report with my own ears. He died of a heart attack. There was no evidence of foul play.”
Mare-Do-Well's mind reeled as she flashed back to the house in Flora Park. The first words she had heard drifting through the cracked window replayed in her memory: “Horseapples, that wasn't supposed to happen.” At the time, she had passed over those words spoken by one of the stallions inside Annals' home, but now, as she heard them once again in light of Daring's revelation, the implications were clear as day. His death was an accident. They weren't sent to kill him.
Daring's voice interrupted the flow of her recollections. “And the whole superhero thing? More like an act! Pretend to save me, earn my trust, and then I'll believe whatever you say.” The pegasus' voice was becoming more choked as she vented her anger; Mare-Do-Well could see the corners of her dark pink eyes glistening with moisture. Daring continued, “Well, it almost worked. But I'm on to you now, so just get out if you know what's good for you!” A snort and a scuff of her hoof along the carpet accentuated the pegasus' threat.
Meanwhile, Mare-Do-Well's mind was still racing as she digested the new developments. The truth seemed to be right in front of her, but she couldn't decipher anything while in the middle of this hostile conversation. Desperate to buy some time, as well as iron out the details of the night's events, she raised a defensive hoof and said, “I'll go, Miss Do, but first, please hear me out.”
The hallway was silent, save for the breathing of the two mares as they stared each other down. Mare-Do-Well studied Daring's face as the pegasus seemed to mull over her suggestion; her eyes darted back and forth, and her flared-out wings retracted slightly. Finally, the golden-coated mare said quietly, “Make it quick,” her voice still dripping with anger.
The purple-clad pony sighed, both out of relief and to try to calm herself down before she began to speak. “About Annals...I thought he was murdered, because I was there.”
Already, Daring interrupted. “What?!”
Mare-Do-Well shouted back, the volume of her speech louder than Daring's interjection. “I was there because I was trying to save him, just like I saved you!” The pegasus' mouth closed, and Mare-Do-Well continued in a tone more suited to the confined space in which the two mares stood, “By the time I arrived at his house, two of the ponies that attacked you were there, and I was too late; I thought they'd killed him. I chased them when they ran from the house, and that's how I ended up in the right place at the right time to stop them from beating you senseless. You're welcome for that, by the way.”
Daring snorted again, but her eyes betrayed the questions that Mare-Do-Well was sure had begun to arise. One of those questions found its way out of the pegasus' mouth: “What do you mean, trying to 'save' him?”
“It's like I told you before,” Mare-Do-Well responded, calming down as she noticed Daring's fury beginning to subside. “Some powerful ponies are after the two of you. I thought they were trying to kill you, but it's beginning to look like that's not the case at all. I was trying to stop them before they got to you and Annals.”
“But...that doesn't make any sense!” Daring exclaimed, her posture becoming more relaxed as her desire for answers seemed to overpower her fury at the other pony inside her home. “Annals and I, we don't have enemies, at least none that I know of. I can't think of anypony that would want to...do that kind of thing to us.” She looked at Mare-Do-Well, her eyes pleading. “Who is it?”
The pony in purple paused for a moment as she considered whether or not to share the limited information she possessed. She didn't take long to reach her decision. “From what I've gathered, the one behind the scheme is somepony named the Collector. I don't know his real identity yet, but he seems to have an influence throughout the whole city, specifically the criminal element. Nopony I've spoken with knows who he is either, but they all seem to be afraid of him.”
Daring lifted a hoof from the floor, her eyes betraying the fear that was beginning to grip her. “Why? Why would this...Collector be after me or Annals?”
“I think you know why, Miss Do,” Mare-Do-Well responded, her voice grim.
The perplexed archeologist's face slowly lit up, her dark pink irises spreading wide, and in a hushed voice, she said, “The artifact.”
“You and Annals discovered something, didn't you?” asked Mare-Do-Well softly. “A very special find?”
“That's...well, that's putting it lightly,” Daring answered, her eyes looking every which way but at the costumed pony. “It's unlike anything either of us have...had seen before.”
The purple-clad pony said, “I had a...talk with Dr. Brier at the university.” Daring's eyes lit up in recognition as Mare-Do-Well continued, “He told me about another artifact, one found by a team led by somepony named Trowel. Just a little under two months ago, that artifact was delivered to Manehattan; it was supposed to end up at the university, but there was a break-in at the facility where it was being stored. The thieves got away with the piece, and I haven't been able to uncover anything about its whereabouts. He did show me a photo of it, though.”
“I knew Trowel was on a dig in Cameland, but this is the first I've heard of any break-in,” Daring said. “He got back from the expedition last week. He didn't mention anything about a notable find.”
Mare-Do-Well raised an eyebrow. “Strange. He apparently thought it was important enough to send pictures back to Equestria before he even sent the artifact itself. Why wouldn't he bring it up to you?”
A brief flash of anger passed across Daring's face. “You don't think he has anything to do with what happened tonight, do you? I've known Trowel for years, and he doesn't seem like the type of pony who'd get caught up in anything like this.”
“I can't say,” Mare-Do-Well offered truthfully. “There's no evidence to suggest he's involved, at least not that I've seen, but there's nothing clearing his name at this point either. I'd have to investigate further.”
Daring spoke up, “You said that you saw a photo of the artifact from Cameland. What was it?”
The costumed pony returned to her earlier train of thought. “It was a figurine, a statuette of sorts. It was transparent, almost like glass. The figure itself was a representation of-”
“A pegasus?” Daring blurted out. Her eyes twinkled briefly, and she took a step toward the other mare.
Taken aback by the sudden outburst, Mare-Do-Well flinched, but she recovered quickly and said, “No, it wasn't a pegasus, I remember that clearly. This was an earth pony.” The golden mare's comment had piqued her interest, however, and she added, “Why do you ask?”
With palpable excitement, Daring Do began to recount her tale of the discovery of the transparent pegasus in Zebrabwe. As she listened to the bizarre story unfold, Mare-Do-Well found herself more and more confused and intrigued by the narrative, and Daring's description of the disappearing passageway and the spherical room only perplexed her more. The fire that burned in the pegasus' eyes, however, did more to dispel her doubts than Daring's repeated insistence that every word she spoke was true. By the time the tale was complete, Mare-Do-Well knew that it was no fabrication, and indeed, both archeologists had run across something truly magical in the faraway desert of Zebrabwe. Something that's sure to attract the attention of the Collector. Daring's story having reached its conclusion, Mare-Do-Well voiced her next concern. “Where's the artifact now, Miss Do?”
“Please, call me Daring,” the pegasus responded. She managed a smile, though her face still betrayed her sleepy state. Mare-Do-Well smiled back, then nodded when she recalled that her facial features were still obstructed by her mask. The tired archeologist continued, “It's being stored at the university, in the labs. We're still running tests to try and answer some of the questions that it's brought up. So far, no good.”
“Is it secure?”
“Only a few ponies even know it's down there,” Daring answered calmly. “Brier hasn't gone public about the artifact, and he won't until we've done as many tests and experiments as we can to determine it's not dangerous.”
Alarm bells began to ring in Mare-Do-Well's brain. She paused for a moment and cocked her head to one side, trying to determine why, when suddenly, the truth dawned on her. “Daring, how did they know to go after you and Annals?”
The pegasus' mouth opened as if to give a response, but none came. Her eyes grew wide once more before she found her voice. “I...don't know. It's not public knowledge that we found anything, not yet.”
“It may not be public knowledge,” Mare-Do-Well said slowly, “but it is private knowledge.”
Daring stared in disbelief. “Are you saying somepony in the department is behind this? Somepony who knows that the two of us were the ones who uncovered this artifact?” Suddenly, the golden yellow pegasus sprang forward through the hallway, past a startled Mare-Do-Well, and galloped the short distance to the door, throwing it open with a loud bang.
The costumed pony recovered quickly and shouted, “Wait! Where are you going?”
Daring looked back over her shoulder, her eyes ablaze with determination. “To the university! I have to make sure the artifact is safe!” Without another word, the pegasus leaped out the door and dashed off into the night.
Mare-Do-Well didn't have a chance to shout after her, instead allowing instinct to take over as she followed the running pegasus out the door – making sure to shut it behind her – and into the streets of Manehattan. Her conditioning lent her the advantage in a hoofrace, and soon, she was alongside the golden yellow mare. As the two ponies sped over the pavement, Mare-Do-Well shouted a question, making sure it would be heard over the wind that rushed past both her and Daring. “What are you going to do?”
“I'm not too sure,” the pegasus yelled back, “but if both Annals and I were attacked tonight, it's likely that they'll try to take the artifact tonight as well. We have to stop them, get it somewhere where they can't find it.”
Mare-Do-Well grinned underneath her mask. “Sounds like fun.” Side-by-side, the archeologist and the pony in purple galloped under the street lights toward Manehattan University.
Less than an hour ago, all Daring Do wanted, more than anything, was to collapse onto her bed and succumb to sweet unconsciousness, all the events and revelations of the past twenty-four hours temporary forgotten amidst the throes of blissful sleep. Oh, how quickly things change, the pegasus mused as her hooves pounded against the Manehattan pavement, all thoughts of slumber cast aside as raw adrenaline coursed through her body. Her conversation with Mare-Do-Well had been enlightening, to say the least; while she was still unsure whether or not the costumed mare could be completely trusted, the information that she had shared with Daring made her sound like she was only seeking to make things right in respect to the artifact.
Artifacts, the archeologist reminded herself, her mind racing as she considered the ramifications of the second figurine. Her discovery of the miniature pegasus had altered her life significantly, driving her to near obsession over the transparent statuette, but to find out that there was another relic out there, nearly identical to the one from Zebrabwe? It was almost too much to comprehend, and it raised a myriad of questions, to say the least. Was it also found in a mysterious way? Why didn't Trowel tell me about it, if it was so monumental? I found a pegasus, the other figurine is an earth pony...is there a unicorn somewhere out there? And what do these criminals and this...Collector want with all of them? She closed her eyes tight, trying to bring focus to her addled, sleep-deprived brain; all the while, she ran toward Manehattan University, the pony in purple keeping pace beside her.
As the ponies neared the university, Daring's thoughts turned to Annals, and she felt a pang of sadness in her chest. The unicorn had been her mentor and colleague all throughout her tenure in the History Department, but more than that, he had been a very dear friend and confidant. Ever since learning of his passing, Daring had felt an emptiness in the pit of her stomach, and as her hooves flew along the familiar route that she often walked when traveling to her place of employment and former study, she realized that the professor would not be waiting for her there. The lateness of the hour and the unique circumstances surrounding her visit to the campus were ignored; in her mind, the university and Professor Annals were inexorably linked, and the hollow feeling inside her grew as she fully grasped the awful truth. Her friend and coworker was dead. Nothing could change that now. Never again would she travel to some remote area of the world with him beside her, ready to offer a helping hoof, nor would she ever hear another terrible joke from the unicorn as he attempted to lighten the mood in a tense situation. A single tear rolled out of her eye, flying backwards behind the speeding pegasus and shattering against the sidewalk with a wet splash.
Only a few blocks remained between the two running ponies and the campus of Manehattan University. Daring turned her head to the side and watched the costumed pony who matched her stride for stride. The expressionless mask was locked forward, its unblinking gaze focused on the path that led to the campus. Her purple hat and cape flowed behind her, and even though Daring thought the outfit to be outlandish and flashy, she had to admit, it did make the mare look like something of a super heroine. The archeologist smirked. Never in a hundred years did I think I'd end up being some kind of sidekick to a pony in a costume, trying to fight crime. She shook her head and sighed. Tonight had been very memorable, and it only promised to become more so once they arrived at their destination.
Several minutes later, the mares reached the university. Daring Do slowed her pace to a walk, and Mare-Do-Well followed suit, trailing behind as the pegasus navigated through the familiar layout. While Daring had been on campus late at night before, whether performing exhaustive research or helping to grade a sizable stack of midterm exams, the university's largely nondescript buildings acquired an imposing air in the deep darkness, and she shivered from more than just the cold of the night air as they passed beneath the dark, silent structures. A few widely-spaced lamps provided a dull light along the main paths that linked the major wings, and Daring welcomed the illumination, even if it was paltry. She glanced behind her, and Mare-Do-Well gave a slight nod of her head; the pegasus nodded back and continued toward the History wing.
There was no sign of anypony else on the shadowy walkway, but this fact did little to calm Daring's nerves; her heart had increased its speed during their gallop from her house, and it showed no signs of slowing as fear began to creep into her mind. She considered for a moment the possibility that her idea was ludicrous, that nopony would even attempt to pilfer the precious pegasus, and that this whole visit would prove pointless. As much as she desperately wished that were true, that thought was soon proven false as she revisited that evening's conversations with Mare-Do-Well; when so many events seemed oddly circumstantial, the truth was likely that they weren't circumstantial at all. The artifact was in jeopardy, and a twisting feeling in her stomach told Daring that tonight, the night when so many things had already occurred, was the night it would happen. Maybe it already has, she thought, her eyes widening, but she shook her head, refusing to entertain the notion, and pressed on through the campus.
Daring rounded the final corner and looked up, her building coming into view at last, but her breath caught in her throat and she froze in place. A beam of light flickered from inside, darting across a window near the door. She watched with rapt attention as it swept over the lower level, its glow moving back and forth in a motion similar to a lighthouse. A hushed voice from beside her startled the pegasus. “Looks like you were right,” Mare-Do-Well whispered, her voice still low and gravelly. “Somepony's already here.”
Daring turned to face her companion. “Maybe.” She looked back at the beam as it continued to sweep across the darkened sky. “I don't think a thief would draw that much attention, though. It may just be security.”
“That doesn't make me feel much better,” the mare beside her mumbled.
Confusion swept across the archeologist's face before it dawned on her: a costumed crime-fighter wouldn't exactly be welcome by law enforcement of any variety, especially this late at night on an abandoned campus. She grinned slightly, then said, “Don't worry; I can get us in if it's just a guard. Just stick with me, all right?” The masked head remained stationary. With a sigh, Daring said, “Let's go,” and she walked cautiously toward the building, the light still emanating from within.
When she reached the door, she hesitated for a moment before lifting her hoof and knocking three times, the sound echoing ominously through the empty ground floor. The erratic movements of the beam of light ceased, and Daring heard hooves clattering toward the door, coming to a halt on the other side of the entrance. A sudden fear gripped Daring when she considered the possibility that she had just made a grave error, and the pony who was responsible for the light was indeed one of the Collector's minions, here to make off with the pegasus, and her interruption of his nefarious work would end poorly for her the instant the door no longer barred the way. Her body tensed.
A frantic heartbeat later, the door swung open, and her eyes suddenly burned as a bright, white light shone directly onto her face. She cringed and lifted her hoof to shield herself from the painful sensation, realizing that the other pony now had the upper hoof if their intention was to cause her harm. A gruff stallion's voice came from behind the blinding beam. “Who in Equestria is out here?”
The pegasus let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding in, and her ears perked up as she recognized the harsh tones of Night Watch, the campus' night security guard. A hint of a smile crept across her face. “It's Daring Do, Night Watch,” she said, her hoof still attempting to prevent the light from burning directly into her eyes.
His surprised response came after a moment's pause. “That is you, Daring!” Finally, mercifully, the light was out of her face, and she lowered her hoof and blinked twice, clearing her vision. As the guard stallion clipped his flashlight to his belt, he continued, “What the buck are you doing out here so late?”
For a second, she considered telling Night Watch the truth, but hesitated when she considered how that would sound. Oh, hello, Night Watch, I'm just here to steal one of my own discoveries before some faceless crime lord can get his grubby hooves on it. She widened her grin, her brain scrambling to find a suitable excuse. Her mouth spilled out the first one that seemed halfway reasonable. “I...forgot some of my notes in my office, and I need them for my...research.” Daring's smile was toothy and ridiculous, but she kept her eyes focused on the gaunt face of the stallion before her.
The guard raised one eyebrow. “In the middle of the night, all by yourself? That's awful dangerous, Daring.”
Wait, all by myself? Attempting to act casual, Daring brought a hoof up to scratch her withers, turning her head slightly and scanning the area with her peripheral vision. The lack of a pony in a purple costume sent a rush of anger through her, but she stifled it as best she could and faced Night Watch once more. “Yes, I know, but it's very, very important research, and I need those notes right away; I'm on the verge of a breakthrough.” Her fury at Mare-Do-Well was growing, and she struggled to keep it under control even as she fibbed and maintained her smile of false innocence.
The stallion gave her a soft smile of his own. “Okay, Daring, shouldn't be a problem. I've gotta sweep a couple more buildings right now; go ahead inside, get what you need, and I'll come back around to lock it up and shut off the lights once I've made my rounds. Got it?”
“Got it,” Daring responded, hoping the animosity didn't register in her voice. Night Watch, however, showed no signs that he had picked up on her lie, and gave her a brief nod before trotting past her toward the Science wing. The pegasus stepped inside the History building quickly and shut the door behind her, releasing a long exhale followed by a low, frustrated growl. Her voice was a quiet, furious rumble. “Where is that good-for-nothing little-”
“You know, for a guard pony, he's not all that observant.”
The voice that had become all-too-familiar sounded as though it came from mere inches away, and Daring leaped away from it with a yelp, jerking her head around to find her suspicions confirmed. Even in the darkness, the purple-hued costume still stood out, an intimidating get-up surely meant to strike fear into the hearts of petty criminals; it seemed to be quite adept at eliciting the same reaction from innocent ponies its wearer was currently in the process of “helping.” Daring's heart was working extra hard this evening, and she practically shouted, “What the hay was that?”
Mare-Do-Well raised a hoof to her covered mouth, a gesture indicating that silence would be prudent; the pegasus fumed, but kept quiet behind gritted teeth and a ferocious stare. After the costumed mare lowered her hoof back to the floor, she tilted her head slightly and asked, “What do you mean when you say 'that'?”
Daring swore that the pony in purple sounded almost whimsical, and she bit her lip to keep from screaming her frustration, instead opting to communicate through harsh whispers. “You! Disappearing! I told you to stick with me.”
“And I decided not to take that advice,” Mare-Do-Well replied, waving a hoof dismissively. “How could you have explained my presence, anyway? You could barely think up a decent enough story to convince the guard to let you in here.”
Now, the pegasus' anger stemmed not only from the fact that she'd been ignored by her companion, but also that she had to admit, the costumed pony was right. It would have been infinitely more difficult to convince Night Watch to allow her access to the building if she showed up in the dead of night with another pony, especially if that pony was wearing a ridiculous outfit. She swallowed her anger and asked another pertinent question: “How'd you get in here, anyway?”
Mare-Do-Well tilted her head toward the side of the building. “Side entrance. Turns out your security guard pal forgot to lock that particular door. I came inside just in time to hear your little conversation.” The costumed mare emitted a low, throaty chuckle. “I could've stood right behind that stallion, and he probably wouldn't have been the wiser.”
“Leave him alone,” Daring said, her tone sharp. “I've known Night Watch a long time; he's never been one to be forgetful or careless.” The pegasus' own words registered in her mind, and a shiver ran through her body. Her voice had a slight shake when she continued. “In fact, I've never known him to forget the locks. Never.” She locked her eyes with the masked mare.
The pony in purple was silent for a second, but then gave a slow nod. In a whisper, she confirmed her understanding of the pegasus' statement: “We're not alone in here.”
Daring gave her own nod, her eyes wide as more adrenaline pumped through her body, and she swiveled her head around, scanning the lowest floor of the History wing. After the unpleasant experience with Night Watch's flashlight from a few moments prior, her eyes had readjusted to the darkness. Her gaze was met by only the familiar columns and hallways leading to various lecture halls and classrooms, as well as the door to the stairwell; in the shadows, her eyes convinced her that there was movement, but a second look allayed those suspicions. Every dark passageway, every sealed door suddenly became a hiding place for desperate criminals, and each beat of Daring's heart pounded heavily in her head, fear and excitement tearing through her in equal amounts.
Mare-Do-Well's hushed voice from beside Daring didn't elicit the same reaction she'd had earlier, but she did twitch slightly as the costumed pony asked, “Where's the artifact, Daring?”
The pegasus continued to scan their surroundings as she answered. “Downstairs, in the basement. Our labs are down there.” One final sweep of the premises satisfied the archeologist that nopony else was in the immediate vicinity, and she turned to her costumed companion. “Follow me.” She took two cautious steps toward the stairwell door, then whipped her head around and hissed, “And this time, stay with me.” The mare in purple raised a hoof in a defensive gesture but said nothing. Daring sighed, then brought her attention back to the door that led down. With a gulp, she began to move forward once again.
The door swung open with a soft creak, and Daring stepped into the stairwell, Mare-Do-Well following close behind. The pegasus hesitated at the top of the flight leading to the basement, her hoof raised to take the first step down, when a loud bang came from behind her and echoed through the chamber. Her heart leaped within her, matching the movement of her own body, and she gasped as the noise rang through her ears. Once her hooves found the floor again, she spun around quickly to find the source of the sudden sound, but she saw only the costumed mare. She gave a confused look to the pony in purple, who inclined her head toward the now-closed door and gave a shrug. Daring imagined that under the mask, the mare's face wore a rather sheepish grin; the pegasus' hoof made contact with her forehead as she sighed. She mimicked Mare-Do-Well's hushing gesture from earlier, then turned back to the stairs and began her descent.
If she hadn't been on edge earlier, Mare-Do-Well's mishap with the door had certainly sent her there, and she took each step down tentatively, her body tense with anticipation. She saw nopony else aside from her costumed companion in the stairwell, and yet, Daring's eyes darted back and forth, scanning the walls, the floor, and the steps below her, searching for any hint of motion. None came. Her heart continued its rapid beat, each rush of blood flowing through her heightening the sensation of terror and causing her head to throb with a dull pressure. The two ponies reached the landing between floors, and Daring continued her trek down into the dark depths, the basement door awaiting her at the base of the stairs.
A small window was built into the door that led to the laboratories, and as Daring finally stepped off the last of the stairs and strode up to the door, she peered through the glass. Only the long hallway she had traversed many times prior lay before her; from what she could see, no menacing criminals were lurking in the shadows. She opened the door slowly and steadily, but instead of stepping through, she held it open with a hoof and looked back at Mare-Do-Well, who had just descended from the final step. The costumed pony looked up and paused. A heavy sigh emanated from behind the mask, and a small grin crept across Daring's face as Mare-Do-Well lowered her head and walked with exaggerated steps through the door. Once the caped mare was all the way through, Daring strode through the opening and sealed the door behind her, slowing its progress with her hoof until it settled back into the jamb with a soft click. She smiled and turned back to the hallway where Mare-Do-Well stood, slowly shaking her head from side to side. Daring gave the costumed mare a shrug and stepped past her companion into the hallway.
Her smug attitude quickly gave way to fear once more as she again assumed the lead. The lab that housed the artifact was around the corner, but Daring still gave each room on either side of the dark hall a visual inspection, peering through the small windows on every door. As with the entire evening, there were no sudden movements or lurking ponies behind the doors, just various machines, storage cabinets, and tables adorned with empty beakers and vials. The scene seemed surreal; even though Daring had been in these halls many times before, seeing them now, unlit and devoid of life, while the security of the figurine was in jeopardy, filled her with a deep dread. Nagging doubt still plagued her mind as well; aside from an unlocked door on the ground floor and her own suspicions, there was no evidence to prove that anypony else other than the archeologist and the costumed mare was present in the History wing. In spite of how convinced she was that her hypothesis had been correct, the fact that the two ponies hadn't encountered another living being other than Night Watch was beginning to wear on her confidence. She continued toward the corner of the wall, stepping from one side of the hallway to the other to inspect each room along the way, each one yielding the same result: nothing.
At last, Daring reached the end of the initial hall, and she turned to the right toward the laboratory inside which the pegasus artifact was stored. Only a few hoofsteps later, both ponies reached their destination. The door to said lab was shut; no light shone from behind its sealed exterior. Daring felt her heart slow its frenetic pace a bit as she stared at the unmoving door; still, her nerves had reached an incredible high, and she found it impossible to be completely calm. Mare-Do-Well's hoof nudged her left shoulder, and she turned her attention to the costumed pony, who shrugged with a tilt of her head as if asking, “What now?” Daring opened her mouth to whisper a response.
The sound of a closing door from within the room in front of her cut off any words the pegasus was preparing to speak, and she whipped her head around toward the laboratory, her eyes shooting open and her heart returning to its previous state of panicked beating. Daring froze, her gaze locked on the shut door, while a dozen terrifying possibilities of what had caused the noise raced through her mind. Beside her, the form of Mare-Do-Well stepped quickly and quietly toward the wall next to the door, and Daring snapped out of her trance when the pony in purple tapped her shoulder and gestured frantically toward the empty space beside the masked mare. Following her companion's lead, the pegasus pinned herself against the wall beside Mare-Do-Well, trying her best to keep her frantic breathing quiet. The pounding of her heart that resonated through her skull was loud, but she strained her ears to focus on the room. Hooves were clacking against the tile on the other side of the door. They were coming closer. Daring inhaled deeply. Mare-Do-Well's hoof suddenly clapped down across her barrel, holding her back against the wall. The steps ceased. They were at the door.
The two mares were positioned in such a way that the door would open outward between them and anypony that exited the room, and so, when the door swung open with a long creak, Daring peered her head around the mare beside her to catch a glimpse of the figure that stepped out of the laboratory. She couldn't make out any features, only the silhouette of a pony that strode out of the room, its gait surprisingly casual and unassuming; something that looked like a case hung from its mouth, grasped between the pony's teeth. The door shut behind the figure as it turned away from the two mares and began to step through the hall toward the corner.
It didn't get far. In one swift motion, Mare-Do-Well pushed herself away from the wall and leaped through the air at the shadowy pony. Its head didn't turn, and it gave a cry of surprise as the costumed mare crashed against it, the object dislodged from its mouth and sent sliding against the wall as the tackling pony and the mysterious intruder tumbled forward several feet, skidding to a stop with Mare-Do-Well perched atop the other pony, laying prone on its back. Daring pulled herself away from the wall and galloped over to the case that had flown free; the lid had popped open, and the pegasus righted the container, peering inside. She gasped when her suspicions were confirmed: Inside the case, lined with packing foam, lay the glass figurine, the darkness doing nothing to dull its impressive features. Daring reached a hoof in to extract the tiny pegasus, but paused when she heard Mare-Do-Well's voice. “Daring, come here and have a look at this.”
The archeologist left the case where it lay and stepped toward the other two ponies. Mare-Do-Well looked up at the pegasus, then lifted a hoof and pointed down at the other pony's head as Daring heard the pinned pony moan in pain. Something about the voice triggered a memory in Daring's mind, but she couldn't place it until she followed the hoof of the costumed mare and looked down at the shaking head of the pony on the floor as it released another exclamation of discomfort. Her eyes shot open as she beheld the face of a bearded stallion, the white of his facial hair standing out against his dark gray coat. Daring gasped in disbelief, and her voice was a low whisper, laced with shock and curiosity.
Mare-Do-Well sighed for the umpteenth time, her frustration displayed through exhalation. She had been looking forward to this interrogation for some time, and her excitement had increased tenfold upon learning that the culprit she sought had been none other than the History dean. A nagging feeling had stuck with her ever since her initial run-in with Brier, and now, at last, she was going to find out the whole truth about this shady business.
At least, she would, if the tottering old fool were conscious.
She didn't remember tackling him that viciously. Maybe he just hit his head on the floor too hard? Whatever the case, after his first expressions of pain, Brier had quickly slipped into a sleep-like state. Upon Daring's suggestion, the two mares had carried the surprisingly heavy stallion up the stairs and into Daring's third-story office, depositing his body unceremoniously in a chair while they awaited his return to the land of the living. Mare-Do-Well thought that he surely would have awoken by now, what with their unintentionally rough handling, but it was not to be. He simply lay there, his head lolled off to one side; his vital signs appeared to be normal, but he ardently refused to wake up. Stubborn old stallion.
By no means, however, was the room silent. A constant stream of muttering and grumbling emanated from the other mare in the office as she paced back and forth, clearly agitated. Mare-Do-Well couldn't make out any of the words, and Daring certainly didn't seem keen on letting her in on why she was so upset. Another sigh escaped her lips. This night had been a roller coaster, and it showed no signs of pulling into the station any time soon.
She took the opportunity to study Daring's office. It wasn't much more than a rectangle, with a single door leading out to the hallway and a window opposite the door. In between stood a desk, one chair positioned in front of the window and intended for the office's occupant, while two other chairs lay on the other side of the desk. One of these seats was currently occupied by Brier's body; the other two remained empty, Mare-Do-Well content to sit on her haunches beside the desk. The rest of the office was sparsely furnished, rounded out by paintings of various exotic landscapes upon the walls and a small bookcase underneath the windowsill.
Finally, Mare-Do-Well had enough of the unintelligible ramblings, and she stood in the path of the pacing mare and stopped her progress with a hoof. When Daring brought her eyes up, Mare-Do-Well asked, “Wanna tell me exactly what you're doing?”
An exasperated huff and a toss of the head were the first part of Daring's answer. The second part came in the form of words. “Not really, no.” The pegasus roughly nudged her way past Mare-Do-Well, muttering, “It's not like you'd understand anyway.”
As Daring stomped away, Mare-Do-Well turned to face her companion, who was now pacing in silence. When she didn't turn around once she reached the wall, Mare-Do-Well sighed – again – and said, “Try me.”
Daring's head whipped around surprisingly fast. The light in the room had not been turned on, for fear of alerting Night Watch that something wasn't quite right, but even just through dark vision and reflected moonlight, Mare-Do-Well could clearly see the fiery anger in Daring's eyes. “Okay, fine,” Daring began, seething. “You want to know what I'm doing?” She turned her entire body, stepping closer to Mare-Do-Well with each sentence. “One of my best friends and colleagues is dead. An artifact that I still don't understand completely was almost stolen tonight. And the pony who tried to take it is the dean of my department!”
She paused to breathe for a moment, then continued, “Only a few weeks ago, I was fine. I came to the university, I did my work, and I enjoyed it very much. There was no little glass pegasus, no mysterious crime lord trying to kill me and my friends, and no reason to think that I'd be inside my office in the middle of the night, with an unconscious dean and a pony in a mask, wondering if I'm even going to survive the week.” Her pitch rose. “I never asked for this. I just wanted to live normally, not get caught up in some huge...I don't even know what!”
She took in several deep breaths, exhaling slowly, and Mare-Do-Well waited, never breaking eye contact. Finally, Daring said, “I just want this to end.” A faint glimmer came from the corner of her eye.
“You think I don't?” Mare-Do-Well replied, her own voice taking on a timbre of frustration. Sympathy had never been her strong suit, but the sight of her companion coming to tears was forcing her to say something. “You think I want to see ponies die, or get hurt, or steal? That's why I put on this mask, and this outfit: so that I can stop those things from happening.” She brought a hoof up to Daring's cheek, and the pegasus' eyes met her own. “I want it all to end just as badly as you do, Daring, but I also know that's not going to happen unless we make it happen. Understand?”
Daring choked back her tears and caught her breath, visibly calming. At last, she whispered, “I think I do.”
A third voice interjected, “Well I don't!”
Mare-Do-Well nearly jumped out of her suit, but she recovered quickly as the source of the speech became clear. The good doctor had finally broken free of his slumber. She turned to face him, only to find that him sitting up in the chair, rubbing his head with a hoof and blinking his eyes. “Glad you could join us again, doctor,” she said, dripping with sarcasm. “Have a good sleep?”
“Buck me, is it you again?” Brier muttered as his eyes cracked open. “What was it, Miss Do-Good or something like that?”
Before the pony in question could respond, Daring stepped forward. “Her name is Mare-Do-Well, Brier, and you'd do well to remember that.”
The doctor turned his head, which he was still rubbing, and addressed the other mare. “Daring? You too?” Daring made a move to step forward, but Mare-Do-Well held up a hoof to stop her. The masked mare watched as Brier's lids slowly crept open, and he looked all around, blinking in confusion. “Is this...your office, Daring? What am I doing on campus at this time of night?”
Mare-Do-Well froze, her blood suddenly running cold as Brier made eye contact with her. From beside her, Daring pushed down the impeding hoof and strode forward to stand mere feet from the chair. The pegasus' wings began to flare out as she shouted, “Don't play stupid with me, Brier! You know full well why you're here, you dirty thief!” She gestured toward the corner, where the case containing the artifact sat secure. “You were trying to steal the glass pegasus, and now Annals is dead because of you!”
Mare-Do-Well barely registered what the other mare said, instead studying the face of the dean intently. Even as he looked away to face his accuser, she kept her focus on him, especially his irises. No, she thought, that's not possible. She took a step closer, scrutinizing every feature of the stallion, desperate to disprove her theory. His head suddenly turned to just the right angle, and beams of moonlight drifted through the window and caught his eyes. Mare-Do-Well inhaled sharply. She tapped Daring's shoulder.
It accomplished nothing, as the pegasus continued her rant toward the recently awakened dean, who was looking more and more perplexed by the second, stricken silent by Daring's fury. Several stray tears now flowed down Daring's cheeks as she yelled louder. “I trusted you; we all trusted you! Why would you do this?” She was practically screaming now. “You'll never see the light of another day, you...you murderer!”
“DARING!” Mare-Do-Well interjected, cutting the other mare off and causing both of the other ponies in the room to yield the floor to her. She cleared her throat, then said, “Look, Daring, I know you're upset about this whole thing, and Brier here seems like the pony to blame, but he's not.”
“What?!” Daring asked, whipping her head around to face the masked mare. “How can you even say that? We caught him in the act of stealing a priceless artifact!”
Mare-Do-Well swallowed hard, afraid to reveal what she was about to say, but the time for honesty had come. “We caught his body in the act, Daring, but not his mind.”
Daring's eyebrows rose, her fury giving way to perplexity. “What in Equestria are you talking about?”
Brier added from his chair, “I'm a little confused too.” He waved a hoof and added quickly, “No, no, check that...I'm a lot confused.”
Mare-Do-Well cleared her throat, feeling more like a professor than either of the two ponies with her in the office. “Daring, tell me: What color are Brier's eyes?”
“How is that even close to important right now?” Daring asked, incredulous. She looked as though she was ready to burst out into another tirade at a moment's notice.
“Just answer me,” Mare-Do-Well answered sharply. The time for sympathy was over. “What color?”
“I...I'm not sure,” Daring stammered. “Never paid that much attention to them.”
Mare-Do-Well shook her head slowly. “I'm sorry, Brier, but that's the wrong answer.” Ignoring the insolent huff from the dean, she continued, “Daring, maybe you'd like to tell me the correct answer?”
Daring gave her companion one last confused stare before turning toward the professor and leaning close to him. At first, Brier leaned back to avoid her, but after a cough from Mare-Do-Well, he begrudgingly brought his head forward, allowing Daring to give him a thorough examination. After a moment, the pegasus turned to Mare-Do-Well and said, “They look kind of gray; I can't really see much color in them at all, except for a hint of green on the outer edge.”
“What?” Brier snapped. “No, that isn't right at all, they're light green through and through!”
“No, doctor,” said Mare-Do-Well. “I'm afraid she's right. There might be a little green in them now, but the rest of the pupil is gray, dull. You should be glad that there's at least a little bit of color coming back in. They should be back to normal within an hour or so, and your headache should have cleared up by then too.”
Two very befuddled faces looked back at Mare-Do-Well, and Daring posed the first obvious question. “Why are they...changing color?”
“And how did you know about the headache?” Brier added.
“How did you know about any of this in the first place?”
“And what does it mean?”
Mare-Do-Well held up her front hooves, silencing the onslaught of inquiries. It was time to divulge the truth, and she cleared her throat before beginning her tale. “I've fought crime for a long time in this city, and during that time, I've learned a few things. Once, I had a run-in with some unicorn robbers. Fortunately, they were a little drunk at the time, so their magic wasn't at its peak, but I quickly realized that magic is no easy thing to deal with, being an earth pony.”
“I imagine pegasi are no picnic either,” Brier added in a low tone.
“Don't interrupt,” Mare-Do-Well scolded, and she couldn't help but smile a little when Brier regarded her with a look of disdain but closed his mouth and sulked slightly. “Like I was saying, a pony with magical abilities can easily overtake me if they get the drop on me, and I wanted to make sure I had a way to fight against something like that. So, I picked up some books on unicorn magic and read up.”
“You mean,” Daring said, “that you actually did homework to help you with being a crime-fighter?”
“They say that 90% of a police pony's job is paperwork, you know,” Mare-Do-Well replied smugly. “Now, can I please finish?” Both of her students adequately chastised, interim professor Mare-Do-Well resumed her lecture. “Anyway, these books were full of information, most of which is probably only useful to a unicorn, but I did learn about some new schools of magic, including one that supposedly hasn't been around for centuries: mind magic. It was apparently extremely difficult to perform, so very few unicorns even tried to study it, but one group in particular devoted their lives to learning and mastering the art. Then, those unicorns started to get a little too greedy, and they used their magic to control the minds of a lot of innocent ponies. Princess Celestia herself had to intervene, and she managed to stop them.”
“How?” Daring asked.
“The book didn't say, honestly,” Mare-Do-Well answered. “Likely some kind of royal secret or something like that. Anyway, after that, the princess banned any more mind magic from being taught, and the scrolls that held the incantations were supposedly burned or hidden away. In the books I had, though, the author did say how to identify if somepony was under the control of a mind magic spell.” She focused her gaze on Brier. “The victim's eyes would lose their color, fading to a dull gray, as the effect of the spell took hold on their brain. The more control they lost, the dimmer their eyes would become, until eventually, when they were completely under the other pony's control, there wasn't any color there at all.”
Brier's eyes widened, and Mare-Do-Well felt relieved as she saw more clearly the light green hue returning to his irises. That apparently did nothing to allay the stallion's fears, however. “Are you seriously saying that I was under some kind of...mind control?”
“That's exactly what it looks like, Brier,” Mare-Do-Well said somberly. “The book even said that when the spell started to fade, the victim was likely to lose consciousness, and when they awoke, they would have a bad headache. I was very glad when I read that mind magic hadn't been around for a long time, but now...” She trailed off, not wanting to follow that train of logic to its inevitable destination.
“It all sounds like a giant excuse to me,” Daring said. “A convenient excuse.”
Mare-Do-Well regarded the other mare with a frown, even though she knew that it wasn't visible behind her mask. “All right, then let's test it out.” She turned back toward the dean, who was still sitting in stunned silence. “Brier, can you tell me the last thing you remember before you woke up here?”
He brought a hoof to his beard and scratched idly. “I went home for the evening after my work here, and I had just washed up a little after dinner...my wife had already gone to bed, and I was getting ready to join her when I heard a knock on my front door. The next thing I remember is coming to with a raging migraine in this office.” He paused, then shrugged. “Everything in between is...well, it's gone.”
Daring chimed in, “Mare-Do-Well, did the book say anything else about the mind magic? Like, what a unicorn who could perform those kind of spells could actually do to another pony's brain?”
Mare-Do-Well nodded grimly. “They could basically use the other pony as their puppet, planting ideas in their heads and making them do whatever they wanted. Often it was for something minor, like getting a guard pony to abandon his post or making somepony unlock all the doors in their house, but a few of the most sinister took it a step further, forcing ponies to throw themselves off bridges or buildings. Some of the more advanced ones could even erase whole patches of memory, make a pony forget what they had for breakfast or even make it so that they wouldn't recognize their own family.”
A whisper laced with dread came from the stallion. “Just like me.”
“Exactly,” Mare-Do-Well said. “I didn't want to believe it at first, but it looks like that's what we're dealing with.”
The room was silent as the implications of her statement washed over the three ponies. Mare-Do-Well had trained herself not to feel terror, not to be afraid even when the situation around her was hopelessly dire, but despite her strong exterior, she had to admit the presence of a creeping dread deep inside. This task she undertook on a regular basis had often been a source of suffering, but not of the mental variety; now, however, she found her mind burdened down by situations over which she seemingly had no control. From worries about her exposed identity to the current revelation, stresses heaped on stresses seemed the order of the day. Daring's words from earlier rang true: I just want this to end.
Brier broke the silence, snapping Mare-Do-Well out of her reverie. “Daring, when you were shouting at me earlier, you said a lot of things that I didn't quite get. Would you mind explaining?” Mare-Do-Well was surprised to hear that his statement was not tinged with neither sarcasm nor judgment, but rather genuine curiosity. She reasoned that the dean was just as terrified as she was about the whole affair, and probably even more so, given the fact that he didn't yet have all the facts.
For several minutes, the two mares remedied that, recounting the events of their very busy evening. From Annals' death, to the attack on Daring, to their visit to the university, they told their tales, and Brier listened, his eyes wide in shock from beginning to end. He seemed especially taken aback when Mare-Do-Well described how she took him down in the laboratories, insisting that he had no idea how he ended up there. Before tonight, Mare-Do-Well might not have believed him, but as the night had progressed, she had found herself developing at least a little trust in the gruff stallion. He may not have been the most social pony, but there was no doubting his commitment to his job, which made his “theft” all the more strange.
In addition, Mare-Do-Well began to notice a change in Daring. Her earlier depression and anxiety seemed to be fading away, replaced instead by a raw determination. Her eyes were sharper, her voice more keen; she sounded like she was ready for action. Sometimes it takes the death of somepony you care about. The unbidden thought tripped across her mind briefly, and she shook it off, refocusing on the conversation.
At last, the mares completed their story. After a few moments, Brier found his voice. “That's...unbelievable.”
“I thought so too, Brier,” Daring said, no longer shouting at the dean. “But after tonight, I don't think I have much of a choice but to believe it.”
Good, Mare-Do-Well thought. Maybe now she believes him. Out loud, she said, “Whatever the case may be, I think we can all agree that something has to be done to keep that safe.” She gestured toward the case that held the artifact. “Something big is happening, and I get the feeling that this thing is one of the last pieces of some giant puzzle.”
“That's how it looks,” Daring said with a nod. She turned back toward the dean. “So, Brier, care to join us on this little adventure?”
The stallion scoffed, smiling. “Honestly, Daring, at this point, I just want to head home and crawl into bed, get some proper sleep. But from everything you've said, I have to agree. We almost lost this find tonight, because of me, and I'm not about to let some creep get his hooves on it.” He hopped down off the chair to stand beside the mares. “I'll help you girls out as much as I can.”
Daring chuckled. “I feel like we should all join hooves or something, maybe say some kind of chant or catchphrase.”
Mare-Do-Well replied, “Honestly, I think we'd just make ourselves look silly.”
Brier opened his mouth to add something else, but he was interrupted by a loud crash coming from the door. Three heads turned rapidly to face the source of the commotion, and Mare-Do-Well flinched as her eyes were suddenly flooded with unnatural light. A male voice called out, “All right, what the hay is going on in here?”
The night guard from earlier, Mare-Do-Well realized too late, and she crouched down instinctively, ready to incapacitate the intruder. Before she could leap, however, Daring's voice came from her left. “Night Watch! It's me!”
The flashlight lowered, and Mare-Do-Well saw the guard pony standing in the doorway. If he had been confused before, now he was the absolute picture of befuddlement. His mouth opened, closed, then finally found words the second time around. “Daring? What in Equestria are you...” He took another moment to survey the scene more closely, and a slight smirk snuck onto his face. “Look, Daring, I don't care if you're into this kinda thing, but maybe you oughtta keep it at home and not in the middle of the night at your job.”
Mare-Do-Well had to suppress a snicker as Daring's face flushed with pink. “It's not like that, Watch.”
“Then what is it like?” the guard asked, his voice a little more serious. “You wanna tell me what else I'm supposed to think when I see you with two random ponies in the dead of night, and one of 'em dressed like that?”
Mare-Do-Well was tempted to take him down right then and there, but with great effort, restrained herself.
Brier addressed the newcomer before Daring had a chance to answer. “Two random ponies, Night Watch? I'm insulted if you really don't recognize me.”
Night Watch did a double take. “Dean Brier? Okay, now I'm really confused.” He pointed at Mare-Do-Well. “And I still have no idea who that is.”
“Watch, I can explain,” started Daring.
She was cut short by a raised hoof from the guard. “No, no, not here. If you're gonna do any explaining, Daring, we all should head down to the guard station. Okay?”
The pegasus sighed. “All right, that's fine.” Daring glanced at the other two, her eyes sending a clear message that the night guard was not to be harmed; Mare-Do-Well felt a pang of disappointment. “Please, lead the way.”
Night Watch turned his body, prepared to usher them out the door, but his hoof stopped mid-step. Mare-Do-Well's eyes shot open, and she watched in horror as the stallion's body locked up completely, his flashlight falling to the carpet below and flickering madly. Night Watch's expression would have been comical if his eyes weren't brimming with terror, and any attempts to cry for help seemed to die in his throat. He leaned precariously for a moment before dropping to the floor on his side, landing with a sickening thud. Daring cried out, “Night Watch!” and stepped forward, while Mare-Do-Well's instinct took over, and she lay herself as flat on the floor as possible, sliding away from the fallen stallion.
A voice like a coiled serpent floated through the air. “Don't bother helping him, Daring. He's not going anywhere for a little while.” Mare-Do-Well's blood ran cold, and she pinned herself against the wall to her left as she studied the doorway, waiting to see the source of the voice. The other two ponies froze in place as well, all eyes on the opening as their new guest strode in.
The light from the dying flashlight was enough to reveal a unicorn mare with a lithe, sleek body sashaying into the room, stepping over the form of the fallen guard with a delicate grace, almost as though she were afraid of chipping a hoof. Her coat was a light blue, and a spiky mane of two different shades of pink adorned her head. She would have looked quite stunning had it not been for the sheer hatred that seemed to pour out of her sharp magenta eyes, and Mare-Do-Well quivered a little as the mysterious mare spoke again. “As for you, I think you'll all be coming with me if you know what's good for you.” Her horn glowed, and from Night Watch's body, his nightstick rose, encased in the same color aura.
When studying how to fight a unicorn, Mare-Do-Well had learned that three methods to effectively deal with a foe capable of using magic.
First, bring a unicorn with you, or be a unicorn yourself so that the appropriate counterspells can be cast. Fight magic with magic.
Second, catch them off guard or flat-hoofed. Take them by surprise, and aim for the horn first. If you can disrupt their focus and strike their horn while they're casting a spell, they'll be momentarily stunned.
Third, get out of line of sight. Fast.
A quick survey of her current situation revealed that precisely none of these options were open to Mare-Do-Well at the moment, and she tensed her body as the imposing mare's stare swept the room. She needed to do something; otherwise, there would be no escape from their magical enemy. She glanced at the other two ponies, then at the artifact's container. Her muscles tightened, and she prepared for an attempt at a tackle, one which she knew full well would not succeed. It might, however, give the others time to get out somehow.
Her preparations were interrupted by Brier, who stepped toward the other mare and shouted, “Illusion! What in Equestria are you doing here?”
He knows who she is? Mare-Do-Well barely had time to ponder that fact before two things happened at once. The floating bludgeon zipped through the air toward the dean, who didn't have time to duck as it struck him full on the head with a harsh crack. In that same heartbeat, Daring jumped to the wall and grabbed the container in her teeth, her wings flaring out.
The unicorn turned her attention to the pegasus, and Mare-Do-Well saw her chance. With frightening speed, she propelled herself away from the wall and lunged toward the intruder. The magic-user had been distracted for a moment; perhaps it would be enough time.
Mare-Do-Well realized mid-flight that it would not when a pair of magenta eyes met her own, accompanied by a grin of sheer malice. The glow surrounding the unicorn's horn brightened, and Mare-Do-Well knew she had mere milliseconds before something terrible happened to her. She stretched out a hoof, desperately swiping at the mare in the doorway even as she felt her body being pushed back by a wall of magic.
Her leap had brought her close enough, and hoof made contact with horn. The dull thud of their meeting was followed an instant later by a near-blinding flash of light, and the unicorn cried out as her magic went awry. Mare-Do-Well's body flew backwards, propelled at a frightening speed, and her hooves flailed madly as she hurtled through the air, hoping to find purchase against some object but instead meeting only empty space.
She barely heard the crash, but she certainly felt the impact as her flying body made contact with the third-story office window, the pane giving way to her speedy trajectory. Time seemed to pause for a moment as she flew beyond the sill and out into the night air, innumerable shards of glass suspended around her and twinkling in the moonlight. She wondered what happened to the others, even as gravity took its toll and began to pull her down, down, down toward the waiting ground. Mare-Do-Well shut her eyes and waited for the inevitable impact.
A groan escaped Daring Do's lips as she lay prone on the grassy ground next to the History building. A spasm of pain jolted through her spine, and she winced and instinctively tucked her wings close to her body, which only led to another little shock of discomfort. She lifted her head from its resting place on the grass and looked ahead, then sighed in relief when she saw a familiar form covered in purple sprawled out on the ground only a few feet away. Next to Mare-Do-Well, Daring also saw the container that had only a few seconds ago been clutched between her teeth. With great effort, she managed to get her hooves underneath herself and stand up on legs that screamed in protest. She shook her head to clear the fuzz that permeated her mind, though one thought did manage to rise to the forefront: I definitely pictured that going a little differently in my head.
Fortunately for her, Daring had not been struck by the blast that had burst forth from the unicorn's horn, though she certainly felt the shockwave as it blew past her. Mare-Do-Well hadn't been so lucky, and Daring had snatched the container with the artifact and looked up just in time to see the two mares fly in opposite directions, the pony in purple pushed back by the force of the magic while the unicorn fell back through the open door and into the hallway. It seemed like slow motion as Daring watched her companion hurtle through the air toward her window, but her instincts sprang into action after only a heartbeat's delay. Even as Mare-Do-Well broke through the window, the glass shattering around her speeding body, Daring had already flared out her wings and leaped off the floor, ready to follow.
She imagined that it would look like a scene from an adventure film, where the heroic pegasus swoops in just in the nick of time to snatch a falling comrade from a deadly meeting with the ground, then soars off into the sunset as an epic musical score plays in the background. That definitely wasn't what happened. First of all, the sun had vanished from the sky long ago; it was likely closer to rising at this point anyway. Second, no random pony orchestras were passing by with instruments in hoof to provide her with the appropriate accompaniment. Third, and most importantly, there was enough of a time difference between Mare-Do-Well crashing through the window and Daring leaping over the sill that by the time the pegasus had spread her wings, the other pony was already starting to fall. Even though the upward angle of Mare-Do-Well's flight path had meant that she would be in the air for a fraction of a second longer, her trip to the ground below was going to be swift and unforgiving. Daring had to act fast.
She had tried to dip underneath the plummeting mare, but the speed of the other pony's fall made her misjudge the timing. Instead of taking the brunt of the impact on her back, as she'd planned, Daring ended up performing more of a head-butt, barreling into Mare-Do-Well's midsection. Her forward momentum carried both ponies to the ground; thankfully, it wasn't a straight-on collision, but rather, they hit at an angle, tumbling forward a few feet across the grass before coming to a stop. The roll on the landing helped a great deal, but it still hurt. A lot.
After she had regained her footing, Daring limped toward her fallen companion, grimacing as her body let her know exactly how much discomfort it was experiencing and that she probably shouldn't pull a crazy stunt like that again. While she couldn't argue with that sentiment, at this moment, she had to be sure that her action hadn't been in vain, and she watched the other mare's body closely, desperate for any sign of life. A sigh of breath she didn't realize she'd been holding came from Daring when she saw Mare-Do-Well's chest rise and fall, and when she was within reach, she leaned down and nosed against Mare-Do-Well's shoulder. “Hey,” she said, “you okay?”
The initial response was a groan laden with pain, and that was soon followed by a few words croaked out. “I think I'll live. Ugh...” Mare-Do-Well stirred and rolled so that she was crouched down on all fours, almost like a panther ready to spring, but her voice made her sound much less like a predator and more like the prey. “Hurts like everything.”
“Yeah, me too,” Daring said, slumping to the ground next to Mare-Do-Well. Her legs were simultaneously happy for the reprieve and crying out their disapproval at being bent; it seemed that no matter what position Daring took, some part of her body would be in pain, so she gave up trying to relieve it and moved on to ignoring it as best she could. She did a quick visual survey of Mare-Do-Well, and apart from a few small tears on the other mare's cape and the brim of her hat, she looked none the worse for wear. Daring briefly wondered how the mare had managed to keep her hat on even while falling out of a building, but decided to save that question for later.
For now, it was Mare-Do-Well's turn to start inquiring, and the costumed pony turned her head toward Daring and said, “So, maybe you can tell me: Who the buck was that up there?”
In all the excitement of saving her companion, Daring had nearly forgotten about the unicorn, but at Mare-Do-Well's mention of the intruder, Daring's eyes snapped open. “Illusion!” She spread her wings, winced, then gritted her teeth and fought through the little spasms of pain that shot through her body as she lifted off and flew back up to her office, now accessible from both inside and out. It was only when she reached the windowsill that she realized that if the unicorn was, in fact, still present, she was completely defenseless and exposed.
That, however, was not an issue, as the room was devoid of any magic users. Daring did, however, linger for a moment to take a look at the new arrangement of her office. Only one picture still hung on the wall; the rest had been torn from their hooks and hurled to the carpet. There was now no space between her desk and the bookcase beneath the window, and the chairs had been tossed aside as well. Her face fell as she beheld the disaster area that used to be her private sanctuary, but her ears perked up when she remembered that there had been two stallions in the room with them. One was still visible: Night Watch didn't look like he had moved an inch, and Daring honestly didn't know if he would any time soon. She didn't know what had caused his sudden paralysis, but she could only assume Illusion was behind it.
Illusion. The name stuck in her mind like an unwelcome guest. She'd known the unicorn for years, though they were more acquaintances than anything else. To Daring, Illusion was the most qualified unicorn to perform a Magic and Enchantment Analysis, one of the most useful tools at the disposal of her archaeological teams when dealing with finds that were of a mysterious and magical nature. She had run tests on several of Daring's finds, and the information gleaned had proved valuable, certainly, but tonight had changed all that. The instant Daring saw Illusion stride into the room with that smug, ferocious smile, she knew that the unicorn was much more than she seemed, and the thought of such a powerful magic-user working against them made her cringe. The sight of Night Watch's immobile body made her blood boil, but she diverted her thoughts away from fantasies of revenge and back to the task at hand. Only one stallion had been accounted for thus far.
As for the other male, she didn't see any sign of Brier at first glance, but when she looked down and inspected more closely, she noticed a hoof sticking out from beneath her desk. She hopped carefully into the wrecked room, fluttering down to the floor, then turned to check on Brier. When she caught sight of him, she jerked her eyes away quickly and drew in a sharp hiss of breath, but returned her gaze to the damaged dean after only a moment.
Unlike Daring, it appeared that poor Brier had taken the full brunt of the magical burst as well, though she was unsure if his unconsciousness – quite obvious from his shut eyes and unmoving body – was due to his impact with the desk against which his head rested or the strike delivered to his cranium by the levitated nightstick. She had seen Night Watch's implement make contact with Brier out of the corner of her eye, and it had looked and sounded incredibly painful. Now, it appeared that the dean had slipped into a forced sleep again, though she was relieved to see him still breathing. His rear left leg, however, was what had drawn her attention; she was quite sure that pony legs weren't supposed to bend at that angle. She stepped close to Brier, but was interrupted by a faint shout from below. “Daring! What the hay's going on up there?”
Upon hearing Mare-Do-Well's voice, Daring jumped back up onto the desk that now served as an extension for her windowsill and looked down. The other mare was at least on her hooves, though she was rubbing the side of her head, clearly still in some discomfort. Daring called down, “Brier's hurt bad! Get up here quick!”
Mare-Do-Well turned her head to inspect her own back, then looked back up at Daring. “How?”
Oh. Right. “Um...never mind, just stay there!” Daring went back inside the room and glanced at Brier again, wincing as she caught sight of his broken limb once more. She could only imagine how tired the poor dean was of getting knocked unconscious this evening, and that damaged leg was only going to add to his unpleasant experiences. For one of the first times in her life, Daring felt a small pang of sympathy for the pony in whose presence she had often felt intimidated, and even tonight, she had accused him of being a murderer before Mare-Do-Well's revelation had shed light on the fact that Brier was just a pawn. Her lips formed into a soft smile, and she patted the stallion's head gently. “Sorry about all this, Brier,” she whispered before turning and trotting out into the hallway, stepping over the prone body of Night Watch.
Only a few steps down the hall, Daring found what she sought. Across the entire campus, an alarm system had been installed, one that could (rather sensibly) be activated by any pony with the simple pull of a lever sealed behind safety glass, and just such a lever was right down the hall from her office. With a quick flick, she used the hanging metal rod to break the glass, noting in the back of her mind that there had been an inordinate amount of property damage on the campus tonight as she reached in and pulled down. A magical siren blared through the building with a deafening whine, and Daring scampered back down the hall and into her office again.
She glanced down at Night Watch and was surprised to see his eyes staring back at hers; he was apparently awake and alert, despite being frozen in place. A thought crossed her mind, and she leaned down close to the guard and shouted to be heard over the blaring siren. “I pulled the alarm! Help should be here soon!” He gazed back at her with a pained expression, and she cocked her head in confusion. Why wouldn't he be happy about that? It took two more screeches of the siren echoing through the building to make her realize why Night Watch was uncomfortable. Thinking quickly, Daring grasped the guard's vest with her teeth and tore out two small strips of fabric, then gently stuffed the material into the helpless pony's ears. His eyes lit up with gratitude, and she gave him a smile and a nod before hopping over him again.
Despite all the noise, Brier hadn't stirred, and Daring's heart froze for a moment before she saw him exhale. You'll be all right, Brier, she thought as she jumped up onto the desk and spread her wings out wide. I'm sorry for what I said earlier. Fighting through the pain that still coursed through her with every movement, Daring glided to the grassy ground below and rejoined Mare-Do-Well. The costumed pony tilted her head and said, “Was it really necessary to pull that alarm?”
Daring shrugged. “Somepony's got to take care of Brier and Night Watch.”
“They all right?”
“Watch still hasn't moved, but he's alert at least. Brier...well, let's just say he's gonna feel it in the morning.”
“Almost feel sorry for the old guy. What about the unicorn? Any sign of her?”
Daring sighed. “I didn't see her. She must've ran off after her spell went wrong.”
“You're welcome for that,” Mare-Do-Well said smugly, but before Daring could get angry at her, the costumed pony continued in a slightly softer tone, “And thanks, by the way, for the whole 'saving me' thing.”
“Not a problem,” Daring replied with a smile. “I figured I kinda owed you one after earlier.”
There was a moment of silence between the two mares before Mare-Do-Well said, “Look, as nice as this little moment is, how about we get out of her before somepony shows up and sees us standing out here in the open next to a building with a siren going off?”
As much as she wanted to stick around and make sure that Brier was all right, Daring knew that the authorities would already be on their way to the scene, and there would be far too many suspicious things to explain if she wished to avoid another trip to a police precinct. Right now, she needed to get the artifact someplace safe, and she and Mare-Do-Well definitely needed some time to recover. “Back to my place, then,” Daring said, then picked up the container in her teeth and bounded off, Mare-Do-Well hot on her tail.
The two mares galloped away from the building where the siren still blared, though this time, their pace was not nearly as fast as it had been earlier that night. Each step was met with a little twinge of pain, almost like individual notes in a discordant symphony that was playing full bore all throughout Daring's body. Her legs hurt, her wings ached, but most of all, her head throbbed both from physical discomfort and mental overload. The lack of sleep didn't help matters. Even as she and Mare-Do-Well finally cleared the campus grounds, the echoes of the siren fading away, her vision swam a little and her eyelids drooped heavily.
Daring soldiered on, determined to make it back to her house. She kept running for as long as she could, fighting against the relentless fatigue, but all it took was a brief stumble on the sidewalk for her body to throw in the towel. With a dull thud, she crumpled to the pavement, too tired to even try to catch herself. The last sight she saw was Mare-Do-Well stopping in her tracks and turning back to come to her aid before her eyelids closed, and she finally, finally succumbed to slumber.
***
Daring didn't dream; her brain simply shut down for a while.
When her eyes finally fluttered open, she had to turn her head to avert her gaze from a blinding light. It took several seconds of blinking and breathing for Daring to come to her senses and shake the fog of sleep, and as she wearily raised her head, she recognized the décor of her own abode around her. Slowly but surely, the gaps in her memory began to connect. Last night...Annals...Mare-Do-Well...Brier...Illusion...but how did I end up here? She looked back toward the light that had so rudely stirred her from her rest; it was the sun, finally making its presence known by shining a beam directly through Daring's window and into her eyes. Normally, that wouldn't have been a problem if her curtains were drawn, but she soon realized that this wasn't a possibility, considering that she wasn't in her bedroom. Rather, she was on her couch in the living room, with no blankets and only a small throw pillow as an accessory.
And she wasn't alone. In the chair facing her sat Mare-Do-Well, still dressed in her disguise, the costumed pony's mask looking straight at Daring with its expressionless eyes. Out of instinct, Daring lurched backwards against the couch cushions and gasped at the sight of the strange mare just sitting, like a vulture above a barren desert, and Mare-Do-Well followed suit, recoiling at Daring's sudden movement. For a moment, there was only tense silence between the two of them before Daring spoke. “How'd I get back here?”
Mare-Do-Well pointed at herself. “Earth pony, stamina for days.” She then aimed her hoof at Daring. “Pegasus, light as a feather...pun intended.”
Daring chuckled, as much to acknowledge the terrible joke as to provide a calmer atmosphere. She brought a hoof up to rub the sleep out of her eyes and said, “So, did you sleep at all?”
A low laugh came from the pony in purple. “A few hours. I'm tough, not invincible.”
“That's fair,” Daring said with a yawn. She slowly rose to a sitting position, grunting as the pains from last night made themselves known again. It would probably be some time before she fully recovered, so for now, she resolved to just get used to the aches.
Mare-Do-Well, however, didn't seem to be in the mood for breakfast and a friendly chat. “You still haven't answered my question, you know.”
There were too many details about last night for Daring's muddled mind to sort through, so she cut right to the chase. “Which question?”
“In your office, last night. The unicorn. Brier obviously knew her, and something tells me you do too.”
“Illusion,” Daring whispered softly, gazing out the window as her memory flooded with images of the unicorn using her magic to inflict pain and mayhem, nearly killing both Brier and Mare-Do-Well. She still had no idea what had happened to poor Night Watch, and she shuddered as she revisited his shocked face and his unnerving collapse to the floor. She shook her head, clearing her thoughts, and looked back at Mare-Do-Well. “Her name is Illusion.”
“I got that much from Brier,” the masked mare replied.
Ignoring the sarcasm, Daring continued, “She's one of the lab technicians working in the history department. Her specialty is a test called the MEA, which stands for 'Magical and Enchantment Analysis.' It's a way for us to determine if a find has had any sort of spell cast on it, or to see if a piece has any kind of unusual magical properties.”
Mare-Do-Well nodded toward the other chair. “Kind of like this little number here?”
Daring looked in the direction of the other mare's nod, and much to her relief, she saw the artifact container, safe and sound. A strong urge arose within her; she wanted to jump off the couch, run over, and throw open the lid, just so she could see the little pegasus inside and stare at it for a while. Annals' admonishment aboard the airship resurfaced in her mind, and she resisted the compulsion to indulge in the sight of the artifact that was still vying for her attention, even after all these weeks. Returning to the present, Daring replied, “Yes, exactly, although we never had a chance to run an MEA on the pegasus. Illusion was out of town on business, or at least that's what I heard.”
“She must have had a short trip,” Mare-Do-Well spat.
Daring sighed. “It certainly does look that way.” A stray thought popped in her head, and she asked, “Did you see if her eyes had any color in them? She might have been under a mind magic spell last night.”
“She wasn't,” Mare-Do-Well said quickly. “I saw her eyes clearly, and they didn't look like they had a hint of gray in them. I won't forget that any time soon.” She put a hoof to her chin. “In fact, I'd say it's likely that she's the one who put the spell on Brier in the first place.”
It all started to add up in Daring's head. “It was Illusion. She was the one, not Brier. She's working for the Collector, and she told him about the artifacts. That's how they knew to come after Annals and me, and she used Brier so that he would take the fall once they found out the pegasus was missing. If we hadn't gotten there when we did...”
“Then they would have the artifact,” Mare-Do-Well finished. “Likely, they'd have two of them, seeing as how the earth pony's already been taken.” She paused. “One thing still gets me, though. What's the point of stealing all these specific artifacts?”
Daring shook her head. “I don't know. Maybe they're just planning to sell them? They would certainly fetch a high price.”
“I don't think it's that,” Mare-Do-Well said, and Daring found herself agreeing with that statement. From the details she had observed, along with what she had gleaned from the other mare's tales, she knew that there was more behind these thefts and assaults than either she or Mare-Do-Well knew. The costumed pony continued, “There's something a lot bigger going on here, and I feel like the sooner we find out what that is, the sooner we'll be able to figure out how we can stop these guys.”
“But I've talked with everypony I know in the department about it,” Daring said, an edge of frustration in her voice. “None of them have ever seen anything like it before, and nopony has a clue as to where it might come...from...” She trailed off as a piece, forgotten until now, slid neatly into the puzzle of her thoughts. “Trowel!” she shouted suddenly, causing her companion to flinch.
After regaining her composure, Mare-Do-Well asked, “You mean the guy that found that other artifact in Cameland?”
“Yes! Exactly!” Daring hopped off the couch and winced as pain shot through her, but she pushed it aside, desperately clinging to this revelation and the potential answers it held. “He's the only other pony to have found something like this; maybe we can ask him about his discovery, see if he can tell us what's going on.”
Mare-Do-Well didn't seem to share the pegasus' excitement. “Wait a minute, Daring. Didn't you say earlier that you've already talked to him about his trip, and he didn't mention anything about the earth pony figurine?”
“He didn't, that's true,” Daring said, her voice wavering a little before a new idea struck her. “But if we talk to him, maybe show him our figurine, he might open up!”
“Open up? Do you really think he's hiding something?” Mare-Do-Well held up a hoof. “You remember how eager you were to accuse Brier of being in on all this, and he turned out to be on the up-and-up.”
“I know, I know,” Daring admitted, ashamed of her brash conclusions the night before. Then again, after experiencing an attack by mysterious ponies, the death of a close friend, and the sudden companionship of a mare whose face she had yet to see, she felt that she probably had a good excuse. “I'm not trying to jump to conclusions this time. It's just that...well, I think we're running out of options other than just running away.”
“Heh, now there's something I'm good at,” Mare-Do-Well said with a chuckle. Daring furrowed her brows at the other pony, who cleared her throat and elaborated further. “But yes, you're right. This city is big, but from what I've seen, the Collector's influence is all over the place. It'll be hard for us to find anywhere safe before too long, unless we can stop him.” The costumed mare hopped off the chair and stepped closer to Daring. “Who knows? Trowel may just have the answer we need.”
“Then that's what we'll do,” Daring declared with a firm stomp. She held her head high and proud, taking a moment to mull over her current situation. While accompanied by a mare in a full-body costume, I'm about to question a colleague and friend of mine about a mysterious artifact in hopes of stopping a mad crime lord who wants to get his hooves on it, and I have absolutely no idea if anything will even come of it. She blinked, trying to process all the information, and simply shrugged. At least I can't say my life is boring right now. She started to walk toward the door, saying over her shoulder, “We'd better get going if we want to get to Trowel's place before-”
Daring's speech was cut off by a low grumbling coming from her stomach. As Mare-Do-Well barely stifled a snicker, the pegasus' cheeks flushed a slight shade of red, and she added in a timid voice, “Or we can go after breakfast.”
The bowl of hot oatmeal lay in front of Mare-Do-Well, teasing her with a pleasant aroma that contained just a hint of brown sugar. It was a hastily-prepared meal, one that she and Daring could consume quickly before setting off for Trowel's, but while the pegasus was already nearly finished with her helping, Mare-Do-Well merely sat and stared at hers, foiled by an obstacle she hadn't considered when she agreed to partake in breakfast at Daring's.
My mask.
The sounds of Daring thoroughly enjoying her oatmeal paused, and Mare-Do-Well looked up when her companion asked with a mouth still half-full of food, “What'th the matter? Aren't you hungry?”
It wasn't that she didn't trust the archaeologist; if anything, she was the one pony who Mare-Do-Well could trust at this point. Her identity, however, was her one safe haven, her means of remaining stable in a city that often threatened to drive her crazy even as she strove to keep it safe. Of course, she felt ridiculous, denying herself food – which her stomach was practically screaming at her to eat – just for the sake of hiding behind her mask a little while longer. On the other hoof, she was still tentative, especially after the encounter at the bar, and the fewer ponies that saw her true face, the better. That way, there's less chance of them hurting me...or me getting them hurt.
But Daring had already shown that she was willing to put herself in harm's way, and Mare-Do-Well flashed back to the pegasus' brave, if clumsy, rescue the night before. Would just anypony have gone to such lengths if they didn't care about her? Daring could have just as easily let her fall, but no; she chose to help, to likely save her life, if not prevent a serious injury, and the pegasus had ended up causing herself pain because of her actions. She was one of the first ponies Mare-Do-Well had helped who had shown just as much concern in return, and she had even overcome her own trepidation and distrust when it came to the mysterious mare.
Besides, that oatmeal smelled more appealing by the second.
Across the table, Daring swallowed another mouthful of the delicious-looking mush and said, “Earth to Mare-Do-Well! You all right?”
“Yeah,” she replied dismissively. Her decision made, Mare-Do-Well continued softly, “Daring, I'm going to do something very unexpected, and I want you to bear with me.”
The pegasus' brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”
Before she could hold back her hooves or give herself time to second-guess, Mare-Do-Well removed her hat and placed it on the table next to her, then closed her eyes and peeled back the mask of her costume. Past her chin, then over her nose, across the eyes, and at last completely off the top of the head, her mane springing free. She let loose a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding, then breathed in deeply through her nose, the air just a little fresher without a layer of fabric between her and it. Here she was, out in the open, and while she felt exposed, almost naked, she knew that this was the right thing to do. Her lids drifted open, and she looked to see Daring's reaction.
It was much as she had expected: wide eyes and a slightly open jaw. For a few seconds, the only sound was the ticking of a nearby wall clock as Mare-Do-Well sat, letting Daring take in the sight of her true face. Finally, however, the formerly masked mare broke the silence with an undisguised voice. “I figured, if we're going to trust each other throughout this whole thing, that means that I should let you see the real me.” She put on a weak grin and waited for Daring to respond.
To her surprise, the pegasus gave her a reassuring smile in return. “That's cool,” Daring said in a tone just north of nonchalant. “You didn't have to do that, you know.”
“Yeah, I did,” Mare-Do-Well replied, “if I wanted to eat.”
Both mares shared a brief laugh, the awkwardness in the room quickly dissipating. The hints of mirth still in her voice, Daring added, “You could've just pulled it up a little, only shown your mouth or something.”
“Wouldn't that have been even weirder?”
The pegasus tapped her chin with a hoof. “Come to think of it, yeah, you're right.” She chuckled again, then said, “But seriously, that's real cool of you. It kind of...” Daring spun her hoof in a circle, as if cycling through options to try to find the right word. “It makes me feel more secure, better to know what's underneath that mask. Now you're not just some weirdo; you're a real, normal pony, and it's kind of a relief.”
“Thanks, I think,” Mare-Do-Well said, “but I was always a 'real, normal pony.'”
“I know,” Daring said, “but now, it just feels like I can actually believe that. You know what I mean?”
“Yeah, I guess I do,” the exposed mare said. She breathed in again, her nostrils once again assaulted by the aroma that had been driving her mad for several minutes now. She tilted her head down toward the bowl. “Do you mind if I...”
Daring's eyes popped open, and she sputtered out, “Oh, yeah, of course! Get it while it's hot.”
Those words were sweet relief to Mare-Do-Well's ears, and in an instant, her tongue was licking up its first scoop of warm oatmeal. The flavor delivered on the promises the scent had made, and she eagerly ate, closing her eyes to enhance her taste and smell so she could further her enjoyment of the tasty breakfast. As she munched on one mouthful, she looked up to see that Daring was still scrutinizing her unmasked face, and she chewed and swallowed before asking, “What? Were you seeing if I ate like a normal pony too?”
“Huh?” Daring was caught off guard for a moment, but swiftly recovered. “No, no, nothing like that. It's just...well, I don't really know how to put this, but I don't recognize your face.”
“That was kind of the point of the mask,” Mare-Do-Well responded flatly.
“Yeah, I know,” Daring answered, waving off the sarcasm. “I guess I kinda thought you'd look familiar, like I'd seen you in a magazine or something.”
“What?”
“I don't know, maybe like you were some billionaire that sneaks out at night to fight criminals in a costume or something, and when you did this big reveal, I was supposed to be all shocked when I realized you were somepony famous.”
Mare-Do-Well blinked twice in disbelief. “Sorry to...disappoint?”
“Nah, it's no big deal,” Daring said, turning her attention back to her unfinished oatmeal. For a while, both mares were content to eat in silence, save for the smacking of their lips. Naturally, Daring finished first, and as Mare-Do-Well continued to savor her food, the pegasus sat quietly. As Mare-Do-Well neared the end of her bowl, the silence was broken by Daring once again. “But that does make me wonder about something.”
Mare-Do-Well felt herself bristle and tense up; she should have known this line of questioning was coming, but that didn't make her blood boil any less. She lifted her head up from the bowl as she gulped down her bite of oatmeal, her eyes narrowed in a gaze that made Daring flinch in surprise. In a low voice that seethed a little more than she wanted it to, she said, “Let me guess: You want to know my real name, maybe hear about my history, how I ended up where I am today?” There was bile in her statement; she instantly regretted it, but her knee-jerk reaction had overridden her sense of control. She tried to keep her voice level as she continued, but it still shook a little. “Well, I'm sorry, but I'd rather not say.”
Daring, of course, had been taken aback by the ferocity of Mare-Do-Well's comeback, but despite her look of shock, she seemed to remain relatively composed. “Yes,” she said slowly, “I was going to ask about those things. But if you don't feel like sharing, I'm not going to push you.”
“Thank you,” Mare-Do-Well muttered as she hung her head. It had been wrong to snap at Daring that way. She had every right to be curious; after all, it wasn't every day that you encountered a pony wearing a full-body costume and a mask, much less teamed up with them. Mare-Do-Well knew that Daring wouldn't betray her trust. Heck, I showed her my real face! I don't do that for just anypony. There were some doors, however, that had been shut and locked for a reason, and they needed to remain closed, no matter how much she could rely on another pony.
Daring interrupted her thoughts. “No problem.” Mare-Do-Well looked up. The corners of Daring's mouth had risen into a soft, non-threatening smile, and the pegasus went on, “You took a big step, letting me see the pony behind the mask, but if there are things you don't want to tell me, I understand.”
Mare-Do-Well allowed a grin to creep onto her own face. “I'm grateful.”
“Like I said, no problem,” Daring answered, leaning back in her chair. “Now, we need to head out soon if we wanna get to Trowel's any time soon.” She pointed at the bowl in front of Mare-Do-Well. “You done?”
With one last dive of her head, the unmasked mare scooped up the last chunk of oatmeal and sent it down the hatch. “Now I am,” she said, hopping off the chair. After licking her lips, she swept the mask back over her head and donned her hat in one swift motion. It felt a little strange to be covered up again, but at the same time, her heart started to pump blood a little quicker through her veins. The suit meant business, and there were still plenty of questions that needed answers. It was time to start asking. Out of habit, she reverted back to her lower-pitched voice. “Good to go?”
Daring shook her head. “I gotta say, it's like you're a completely different pony.”
“Well, I'm not,” Mare-Do-Well said. “I'm just ready to get out of here. Let's go, yeah?”
Daring gave her a smirk and strode over to the living room, snatching the artifact container up from the chair where it had lain since the night before. Through teeth clenched around the handle, she said, “You bet.” With a quick nod, Mare-Do-Well followed the pegasus as both ponies departed through the front door and out into the morning sunlight.
***
Naturally, they didn't travel together, as the sight of a normal-looking pony and one dressed in a full-body costume was very likely to attract a great deal of unwanted attention. However, Mare-Do-Well ensured that Daring never left her sight for more than a few seconds as she traveled through the alleys and shadows, eventually moving to the roofs of the city when the buildings were taller and more closely spaced. Trowel lived much nearer to central Manehattan than Daring, and Mare-Do-Well was almost relieved to be back in her old stomping grounds after spending the previous night in the suburbs. The feel of the sun-warmed rooftops was comfort to her hooves, but as she leaped from building to building, she kept a watchful eye on the pony in the streets below. After last night, she couldn't be too careful.
Soon, they came to the appropriate address, a high-rise apartment complex on the outskirts of downtown, and Mare-Do-Well descended to the street level to join her companion. The nearby sidewalks were devoid of other ponies as Daring pressed on the call button next to Trowel's name and awaited a response. One came very soon, a stallion's voice crackling through the intercom. “Who is it?”
“It's Daring Do,” the pegasus said back. The container lay nestled on her back, freeing up her mouth to speak clearly. “I really need to talk to you, Trowel; do you have a minute?”
The voice that responded sounded nervous, and a little higher-pitched than before. “Oh, uh, hi Daring! Yeah, go ahead and come on up!” A dull buzz from the door indicated that it had been unlocked, and Daring nosed the door open and stepped inside, shadowed by Mare-Do-Well.
As opposed to Mare-Do-Well's living quarters, or the apartment complex where she had “interrogated” the greaser, the hallways in this building were relatively clean; the air smelled of disinfectant spray. A door to her right marked “Stairs” caught Mare-Do-Well's attention. The masked mare turned to her companion. “What room is he in?”
“Fourth floor, room 406,” Daring answered.
Without a word, Mare-Do-Well bounded off and threw the door open, stepping inside the stairwell quickly and already beginning her ascent before the door had even shut. When she reached the first landing, she spun around to see Daring's progress, but was surprised when nopony met her eyes. She trotted back down the steps and peeked back out into the lobby to see that the pegasus hadn't moved from her previous spot and was staring straight at Mare-Do-Well with a single eyebrow raised in confusion. The masked pony said, “Well? Are you coming?”
Daring pointed toward the door on the opposite side of the room. “I'll take the elevator, thanks.”
Mare-Do-Well shrugged. “Suit yourself.” She retreated back into the stairwell and began the climb to the fourth floor. Her muscles, still sore from the events of the last twenty-four hours, groaned in protest as she raced past the second story and on to the third, but she gritted her teeth and breathed deeply through her nose, relishing the little workout. It felt good to be active again, and the familiar adrenaline rush put her in a very good mood. I'm sure we'll find out something. She repeated that mantra to herself as she tackled each flight of stairs.
Finally, she spied the sign that read “Floor 4,” and she triumphantly pushed the door open, only to be met by the eyes of a very bored-looking Daring Do.
“What took you?” Daring asked, a smug look on her face as she leaned against the wall next to the elevator doors.
“Just getting a little exercise,” Mare-Do-Well said back, trying to be just as smug. It wasn't as if they had been in a race, so Daring had no reason to gloat. In spite of that, Mare-Do-Well still had to suppress a little pang of disappointment.
The self-satisfied look on Daring's face faded away, replaced by her normal smirk. “Whatever you say. Just follow me.” She started to walk through the empty hallway, and Mare-Do-Well fell in behind, darting her eyes back and forth to sweep for trouble, as unlikely as it was to be found here. The walls were bleach-white, and the doors still had most of their paint. Some ponies had even put welcome mats in front of the doors that led to their apartments, and the masked mare wasn't sure whether to be happy or sorry for them.
It didn't take long to reach room 406, and Daring knocked several times before calling, “Trowel? It's me, Daring!”
From within, a muffled voice shouted back, “Be there in a second!” It was, in fact, a few seconds before the click of the deadbolt was followed by the door swinging open to reveal a lime green earth pony stallion with a combed-back auburn mane and a pair of spectacles on the end of his nose. He was taller than either mare, but Mare-Do-Well guessed that he probably weighed about the same as she did. At first, his look was a toothy grin, but then he caught sight of Mare-Do-Well, and his eyes went wide. She was used to that reaction by now, as well as the question that usually followed soon after. “Who are you?”
Daring interjected, “That's a friend of mine, Trowel, and she's after the same thing that I am right now. Can we come in?”
He kept a nervous stare on the costumed pony for a moment longer before stepping back and lifting his hoof. “Sure, go right ahead.” Daring smiled politely and stepped in, and Mare-Do-Well followed close behind, her unblinking gaze never leaving Trowel's. She paused just far enough into the room for him to close the door, and after a moment's hesitation, he did just that. Neither of them moved. In her mind, Mare-Do-Well knew that she was probably freaking him right out, but that's the way she wanted it to be. She didn't know this pony, not yet, and until she'd confirmed that he was one of the good guys, she wasn't about to turn her back on him.
Daring's voice called from the other room, “Are you two coming?”
Trowel took a tentative sidestep away from the door.
Mare-Do-Well watched him.
He took two more steps.
Mare-Do-Well watched him.
He turned and walked quickly around the corner, but not before swiveling his head to get one more glance at his mysterious guest.
Mare-Do-Well just watched him. Okay, maybe I'm having a little too much fun with this.
She followed him around the corner and quickly surveyed his apartment. She hoped he was a bachelor. While it looked like he had made at least a little effort to clean up while the mares were on their way up, the sparse furnishings still appeared to have little food stains spattered on them, and the couch where the stallion now sat had end tables that looked rather like rumpled piles of sheets, and possibly towels as well. Even as she walked into the room, their host said, “Sorry about the mess, Daring. I haven't had much time to clean lately.”
The pegasus, who was sitting on the other side of the couch, smiled weakly. “That's okay, Trowel. I've been pretty busy myself here lately.”
Beneath her mask, Mare-Do-Well smirked. Isn't that the truth. She hopped up onto a loveseat that faced the couch where the other two ponies sat and fixed her gaze firmly on Trowel. He met her stare, and for a few more tense moments, nothing was said. Finally, the stallion turned to Daring and said, “Um...can she talk?”
“Yes, she can,” Daring said, “but that's not why we came here today. Would you mind if we got right to the point?”
“Oh, yeah, that's fine,” Trowel stammered back, settling back in his seat. “What can I help you with?”
As Daring leaned down to retrieve the container that she had set on the floor beside the couch, Mare-Do-Well continued her silent assessment of Trowel. She had already been sure to check his eyes at the door, breathing a little easier when she was met with light blue and not a hint of gray. That didn't mean, however, that he wasn't working for the Collector, and now, as he sat on the couch across from her, she studied his body language. He looked a bit tense still, but she attributed that to her presence. Yeah, I think I overdid it a bit. No subtle twitches or tics caught her eye, and she relaxed a little. From all appearances, he was clean.
Daring set the container on the couch between herself and Trowel, but left it closed as she asked, “Trowel, what do you remember about your trip to Cameland?”
His eyes got a faraway look. “Oh, well, it was a very exotic locale, one that I'd never personally visited, and let me tell you, the architecture there was absolutely stunning! You know, the camels themselves developed very unique styles, and the dromedary and bactrian tribes even came up with entirely disparate themes in their buildings because of their differing numbers of humps! Isn't that marvelous?”
Okay, so he's a nerd too, Mare-Do-Well thought as Daring tried to bring the conversation around. “Yes, Trowel, that's really fascinating stuff, but what I really needed to ask you about was what you found out there.”
“Didn't I already tell you?” Trowel asked, sounding incredulous. “We explored two different sets of ruins, and after some thorough excavations, we ended up with a very sizable haul of artifacts, ranging from fragments of pots to ancient hoof jewelry. I thought I showed you all of those. Some really remarkable finds, I have to say.”
“They were,” Daring said, “but were there any other places you went? Didn't you find anything really out of the ordinary, something that you'd never seen before?”
Trowel's eyes lowered, and his smile faded. “It's weird that you say that, Daring. For the life of me, I can't remember anything like that, and neither can anypony else who was in my team, but...oh, never mind.” He cast his eyes to the side.
“What is it, Trowel?” Daring scooted closer and put a hoof on his shoulder. “What were you going to say?”
He cracked a brief grin, and Mare-Do-Well wondered if it was because of the encouragement or because Daring Do had just touched his shoulder. The stallion took a deep breath and exhaled, then said, “It's just...some days, I wake up, and I feel like I dreamed about something really important, but the only detail I can remember is that it was about Cameland. It's been happening a lot, almost as soon as I got back to Manehattan. At first, I shrugged it off; I mean, who really understands dreams anyway? But lately, it's been getting to me. I'll try to think back to Cameland, and while I remember plenty from my trip down there, the memory feels...incomplete, somehow. It's hard to explain, but I feel like there's something I should know that I don't any more.”
For the first time, Mare-Do-Well spoke. “Trowel, I need you to do me a favor.” He looked in her direction, his eyes full of distrust. She tried her best to placate him. “Listen, my name's Mare-Do-Well, and I'm trying to help Daring solve a very big problem. If you help me out, you'll be helping her out. Understand?”
Any doubts he had seemed to evaporate when Daring chimed in, “It's all right, Trowel. You can trust her.”
The stallion glanced back in Daring's direction, then turned his attention back to Mare-Do-Well. “All right,” he whispered. “How can I help?”
Mare-Do-Well hopped off the loveseat and strode over to the couch, closing the distance between her and Trowel. The stallion backed away as she approached, but she stopped just short of his seat and said, “I need you to look into my eyes, Trowel, and I want you to think back. Think back to Cameland, and try your hardest to remember absolutely everything.”
“Are you serious?” he said.
“Dead serious,” Mare-Do-Well responded in a voice that proved that statement. “Now, look at me.” Slowly, he leaned forward, meeting the gaze of the masked mare. “Good. Now, remember.” His eyes clenched shut. “No!” Mare-Do-Well snapped, and when Trowel recoiled, she followed with a more subdued, “No. Keep them open. That's important.” Once again, he set his focus on her, and this time, she was able to watch his irises.
The light blue coloring dimmed, and Mare-Do-Well's worst fears were realized as gray tendrils began to swirl inside the eyes of the stallion on the couch. His memory was taken. He can't remember. Before he could be fully saturated with the gray, Mare-Do-Well said softly, “All right, that's enough.” She turned to Daring and pointed at her own eyes.
Following her cue, Daring leaned in to study Trowel's irises, and she gasped when she saw the same thing that Mare-Do-Well had espied. In the midst of all this, the stallion spoke up. “Um...excuse me, ladies, but I am very confused right now. What's going on?”
Daring was the first to respond. “Trowel, have you seen Illusion since you got back to Manehattan?”
“Yeah, I saw her first thing,” he said. “She said she needed to run a couple tests on me, make sure that I didn't run across any curses or weird magic while I was in Cameland. Think she did that for the whole team. I hadn't heard about anything like that before, but I guess it makes sense. After all, I wouldn't want to end up looking like I just stumbled through a patch of poison joke, or maybe even something worse.”
The pieces were falling into place. At last, Mare-Do-Well was starting to realize the extent of the truth, but to hear this stallion tell how he had been duped by Illusion made her seethe with rage. She looked at Daring, who gave her an equally steely gaze, and she knew that the pegasus' fury matched her own. Oh, she is going to pay. Daring tapped the lid of the container that held the figurine, and Mare-Do-Well nodded quickly. If anything could jog Trowel's memory, their best best was sitting on the couch.
Mare-Do-Well sat back, expecting to see Daring crack open the container, extract the pegasus, and show it to her co-worker. If it had the desired effect, his stolen memories would come flooding back, and he could shed some more light on the situation at hoof.
What she did not anticipate, however, was the beam of white light that shot straight up as soon as the lid was opened, its glow much brighter than the lamps that were currently illuminating the room. She held up a hoof to shield her eyes, but her heart skipped a beat when she caught sight of Daring.
The pegasus had been perched over the container, and her head was bathed in the light. Her eyes, however, were wide open and staring straight at the source of the beam, and they were filled with terror. Mare-Do-Well froze, not wanting to put herself in danger, but after only a few seconds, the apartment reverted to its normal state. It was as if the light had never been there, but Mare-Do-Well knew that something had gone terribly wrong, and she jumped up onto the couch, knocking the container aside as she clutched Daring's head in her hooves. “Daring! What happened?”
Daring Do wasn't looking at Mare-Do-Well. The pegasus' head was pointed in her direction, yes, but her vision was far, far away, still stricken with what looked like utter horror. In desperation, the masked mare shook her companion's shoulders, hoping to rouse her from whatever stupor had overtaken her; she hoped it wasn't another bout of mind magic, but Mare-Do-Well hadn't seen any gray in the other pony's eyes. Actually, they had looked more vividly colored than before, almost sparkling, but Mare-Do-Well attributed that to the fact that she had just been blasted by a gigantic beam of incredibly bright light. Please, don't be blind was the only thing Mare-Do-Well could think as she shook Daring violently.
She paused her motion after a few seconds, and Daring's head settled back into its original position. This time, however, the faraway look was gone, and she knew that the pegasus was back. To confirm this fact, Daring suddenly inhaled sharply, then doubled over and coughed as Mare-Do-Well stepped back. From behind her, Trowel spoke over Daring's coughing fit. “Is she gonna be okay?”
Mare-Do-Well didn't have a chance to respond, as Daring raised her head and locked her stare on both of the other ponies in the room. In a weak voice, she said, “I'm all right.” She wheezed a couple more breaths, then added, “I..I know everything. I think...both of you will want to hear this.” A strange gleam flickered across her eye. “You might want to sit down.”
Suddenly, there was light, a brighter beam than Daring had ever seen before. Her instinct told her to look away, avert her eyes, but instead, she opened them wider. The abuse on her vision should have been so intense that her eyes began to water as a last-ditch defense mechanism, but there was no pain, no discomfort at all to be found in this light shining directly upon her. She was briefly reminded of her staring contest with the light bulb back in the police station, but unlike then, she didn't feel the need to blink and clear her vision. She only felt an urge to stare.
In an instant, the light was gone. At last, Daring allowed herself to blink, but when she looked around, there was nothing but a dark void, no sign of the apartment, Mare-Do-Well, Trowel, or anything for that matter. Wherever she turned her gaze, only blackness met her. She opened her mouth to call out, but found that her voice was gone. She could go through all the motions, even feel the vibrations in her throat, but no words came out. She tried her best not to panic, but the fact that she was in a vast, silent emptiness when only a few seconds ago she'd been sitting on a couch in Manehattan was quickly overwhelming her capacity for rational thought. Her eyes desperately darted this way and that, trying to find some sign of anything but herself in the darkness.
It wasn't silent for long, though the way in which it was broken disturbed Daring almost as much as the lack of noise before. A male voice, deep and strong, echoed through the emptiness. “Welcome, sky-sister.”
She couldn't pinpoint its origin; the sound seemed to come from absolutely everywhere all at once, assaulting her ears with its rumbling bass. She shivered at the raw power behind the voice, fear gripping her heart once again. The words “Who are you?” formed on her lips, but speech was still impossible. She could only wait, suspended in darkness with an unseen observer.
After a brief pause, the voice spoke again. “Welcome, brave explorer and chosen pony. Come, and bear witness to my tale.”
Daring's confusion was quickly replaced by wonder when a single speck of light appeared in the midst of the inky blackness. Suddenly, she was rushing towards it, not propelled by her own power, but rather hurtling in the direction of that pinprick of illumination. She felt the sensation of falling and flared her wings out, but she didn't slow down as the light grew larger and larger. Soon, different colors began to emerge, and she saw the dim outlines of a landmass set amidst a sea of blue take form in front of her. She was plummeting towards it at an incredible speed, and she clenched her eyes tight as it rose up to meet her.
No collision followed, and she dared to peek. To her surprise, she found that the darkness around her had been replaced entirely, and now, she stood atop a Manehattan skyscraper, gazing out over the whole of the city. When she looked down, however, she saw that she wasn't actually standing, but rather floating above the rooftop. Before she could get her bearings, she began to move again, except this time, it was as if she flew. It was an odd sensation to her, a pegasus, as she was carried over the sea of buildings not by her own wings, but by some invisible force guiding her along. She felt no resistance from the air, no updrafts or downdrafts forcing her to correct her flight path; she couldn't even feel the warmth of the sun on her back. To her, it seemed that she remained frozen in place while the world below her spun rapidly, pulling the city away from beneath her.
Metropolis gave way to ocean, the vast expanse of sparkling blue beneath Daring zooming by far too quickly for her to make out any details. She soared at a speed far faster than any airship could ever hope to achieve, and yet, her stomach remained calm, even if her heart was racing with fear and anticipation. Thoughts of Trowel's apartment were vanishing quickly, and she fixed her eyes on the fast-approaching horizon, eager to see where she would end up next.
At last, the water far beneath her hooves came to an end, and she glimpsed a long, white beach before flying more inland. There were no visible cities, at least none like Manehattan; the only bits of civilization she spied were spread out and sparsely populated, and she had slowed down enough to even spot the occasional band of nomads. Where there were no signs of ponies or rivers, the world below was nothing but sand, near-endless dunes underneath an unforgiving sun. She thought back to Zebrabwe, where she had been not so long ago, but suddenly, she remembered that the last thing she had done before ending up in this mysterious circumstance. Whatever was going on, it was because of the pegasus figurine, and her excitement and anxiety increased tenfold. This was all a mystery that she was now eager to solve, but at the same time, she feared what the answers would bring.
Her speed gradually decreased until at last, she flew at a more leisurely pace, though still much faster than she'd ever hope to achieve by wing power alone. Beneath her, the landscape changed yet again, a lush jungle springing up from seemingly nowhere. She scanned the flora below, but could see nothing of note. What was in front of her when she looked up, however, was a different story, and her eyes widened as she took in the sight of a massive mountain rising up from amidst the sea of green. A plume of smoke rose from its high peak, and she stared in awe at what she could only assume to be an imposing volcano of incredible size.
Her study of her environment was interrupted by the return of the mysterious voice. “This is the heart of Zebrabwe, a land in which you have already set your hooves. Few, though, have borne witness to the sight you now behold: the Mount of the Great Inferno, as the natives called it. It is here that I rest, and it is here that you will find your answers.” Before Daring could ponder this information further, she suddenly dropped, crying out (silently) as she fell towards a clearing in the jungle canopy.
Even though her hooves made contact with the ground, she didn't feel loose earth shifting underneath her, only a dull sensation that she was standing on something. More amazing to her than that was the fact that she hadn't been hurt by the fall, even though she had started to accept the strange reality of this...vision? Dream? She wasn't quite sure yet, so she lifted a foreleg and bit down hard. Ouch. She was still in the jungle; it was definitely not a dream.
She slowly became aware of something else new: sounds. Her surroundings sounded exactly like a jungle should, from the rustling of thick leaves to the howls and screeches of innumerable wild animals. A motion on the edge of her vision caught her attention, and she turned to see a rather large insect with wings of lace and humongous compound eyes hovering to her left. Without warning, the bug flew directly at her face, and she winced in anticipation of its collision with her. She felt nothing, and after a moment, opened one eye. The insect was gone, but a buzz on the other side of her head caused her to jerk around and see that the winged creature was now on her right. A suspicion crossed Daring's mind, and she lifted a hoof to poke at the bug; the appendage went through the insect like it wasn't even there. It then dawned on her that she was no more than an observer in this strange vision, and she wondered what it was she was supposed to see.
Her answer came quickly, as three ponies suddenly came bursting through the trees in front of her. She recoiled in surprise, but as she began to study the newcomers, several things stood out. For one, their garb was nothing like what normal ponies would wear if they chose to walk the streets clothed at all; it was much more like the garments she would often see depicted on ancient paintings or spoken of in old writings. It occurred to her that she might be glimpsing the past. The second strange thing was that they paid no heed to her, only strengthening the idea that she was indeed just meant to watch and not interact. Finally, what got her attention most of all was the fact that these ponies – an earth pony, a pegasus, and a unicorn – were all arguing bitterly, words flying back and forth so vehemently and rapidly that she couldn't make heads or tails of what they were actually talking about.
The voice echoed around her, also unheeded by the bickering ponies but drowning out their squabble with its sheer power. “Long ago, as you may have been told, peace did not exist between the three pony tribes. This animosity was not limited to the continent that would become Equestria; the hatred and mistrust were rampant all throughout the world, and the tribes would often fight for dominance and territory in Zebrabwe. The land you see around you was especially sought after, for it stood as a lush oasis amidst harsh desert, and only the hardiest dared venture to claim it. What the ponies did not know, however, was that I ruled over this land before they ever laid eyes upon it, and when they set hoof in my territory, I was deeply disturbed by their arrival. Even more so, I found my once-peaceful heart growing cold as I heard them argue and bicker over trivial matters, and so, I took it upon myself to force them to unite.”
The vision around Daring shifted, and she suddenly found herself no longer in the same clearing with the fighting ponies. Now, she was in a village of some kind, with crudely-built huts and ponies wandering to and fro. She studied each one as it trotted by her, and to her surprise, she saw representatives of each tribe, apparently coexisting in the shadow of the mountain. Some clarification was provided by the voice. “As I was this land's ruler, I allowed them to stay in this ideal place on two conditions. First, they were to live side by side with one another in peace and harmony, not vying for power or looking down on the other races just because of their differences. Second, they were to offer a yearly tribute of their crops and animals to me, so that they would know me to be king of this mountain. For hundreds of years, they did just that, setting aside their petty hatred in favor of a thriving, happy village. It warmed my heart, and in my mountain, I slumbered peacefully.”
Daring smiled. The scene around her really was ideal, with little foals of every tribe running and laughing together while their parents talked and kept their eyes on their young. Off to one side, a pegasus assisted an earth pony with carrying buckets of water, while at another building, a unicorn used its magic to slide the last frond of grass into place on a roof of a house, eliciting smiles and thank-yous from the earth pony couple that stood in the doorway.
As quickly as the story had taken a pleasant turn, suddenly Daring came face to face with a horrific sight. The same village stood around her, but now, the structures looked dilapidated, worn-down, and the ponies themselves were pale and wan, their ribs clearly visible and their tongues lolling out as the plodded slowly through the crumbling settlement. A mother in front of one of the huts wept bitterly, her tears flowing down to a tiny bundle wrapped in red-stained cloth that she held close to her chest.
Again, the voice came. “But the desert is cruel, and little by little, the trees began to die as the sands encroached and the rivers ran dry. Crops were lost; lives were lost. I, the mighty ruler, saw the plight of the ponies, but resolved that I could do nothing to help them. After all, what good is any living thing against the might of nature?” Daring briefly thought of a pegasus' ability to control weather, but then remembered locations like the Everfree Forest where even the weather teams were helpless against the unstable environment. She started to feel sick, watching the dying ponies around her, and the voice went on, “I sat in my mountain and demanded my tribute, no matter the cost. My pride had grown, and I had become haughty with my might, fat and happy in my position of comfort. If only I had been more benevolent then, perhaps things would have turned out differently, but alas, it was not to be.”
Once more, the scene before Daring changed. Now, she stood before the entrance to a long, dark tunnel, and directly in front of her stood three ponies representing each of the three tribes. They were adorned with all manner of jewelry, and their heads were held high and proud as they started to move forward into the cave. Daring looked up and saw only the slope of the mountain above; below her she saw a path leading up the foot of the mountain to where she stood. She had only just taken in the sight when she was whisked forward by the unseen force again, descending into the depths of the volcano and falling in behind the three ponies. They were eerily silent, but the voice soon broke that calm. “The village elders fell to fighting, unsure of what they could do in the face of such death and demands. I had given them two days to bring their tribute, or else I would unleash my wrath, and in that time, they had come to no resolution other than to descend back into their old ways of argument. On the morning of the second day, unbeknownst to me, the sons of three of the elders made their way to my mountain and went inside to confront me.”
For a while, the journey continued in silence, save for the sound of echoing hoofsteps in the dark tunnel. The three ponies walked forward while Daring floated just behind, her vision fixed on the sons as they delved further and further into the cave. Glances to either side of her revealed that the rocky floor on which they walked was actually a thin ledge, and Daring recoiled a bit before remembering that she wasn't depending on the narrow strip of rock to support her. She admired the bravery of the three sons, whose eyes never seemed to waver from their destination even when they came within mere feet of tumbling to their untimely deaths. A distant light shone, becoming brighter as they drew near, and soon, the three real ponies and their silent guest found themselves in a vast, circular room within the very heart of the mountain.
Daring's eyes widened in awe as she beheld the sight of this new chamber. The three ponies stood upon a ledge of rock that extended several feet out from their room's entrance, but after that, it appeared to be a sheer drop-off that fell several hundred feet into a pool of bubbling magma; even though she couldn't feel the heat, Daring imagined it would be absolutely sweltering. She could already see beads of sweat forming on the bodies of the three stallions. Above her, the chamber extended up, higher than any Manehattan skyscraper Daring had ever seen, only the faintest hint of light visible at the very top. This was the very center of the volcano, and Daring knew that this was where the self-proclaimed king must have resided. She looked around, but other than the featureless wall of rock opposite her and the three others, she saw nopony else.
Then, the room rumbled. The walls shook violently, and large chunks of rock dislodged from the walls and plummeted into the lava below, a few coming dangerously close to the ledge upon which the three ponies stood. Even though Daring knew that she wasn't in danger, she still glanced around nervously as the ground quaked, but she was stunned to see that the trio of stallions remained unmoving and stoic. Clearly, they were waiting for something, and she tensed herself as the rubble fell around her, unsure of what would come next.
There came a great rush of wind. Daring couldn't feel it, but she heard it whoosh past the ledge and saw the manes of the stallions flutter violently. In the next instant, her vision was flooded with flame as something arose from the depths of the magma and flew up, spreading out against the backdrop of the volcano walls. Wide wings stretched to fill the entire chamber, tongues of fire dancing on its wingtips and searing the rock with a mere touch. Each impressive appendage was connected to a body whose color scheme of red, orange, and yellow seemed to shift and crackle like a massive blaze burning out of control. But Daring was most drawn to the great head of the creature, with its pointed beak and eyes that smoldered in their sockets behind unblinking lids; each one looked to be the size of a pony, and they glowed with a white fire that filled her heart with dread.
A booming voice issued forth from the beak of the gigantic winged beast, and Daring instantly recognized it as the same one that had come to her in the darkness. “And so you come to me, sky-brother, earth-brother, magic-brother. Do you bring to me the tribute that I desire, that you may not suffer the wrath of Ephrus, the Phoenix King?”
Slowly and confidently, the stallions bent down in a prostrate position of respect, casting their eyes down and away from the massive creature that hovered there, suspended on waves of heat. The earth pony was the first to speak. “Mighty king, our crops are withered and dead, victims of a relentless desert. We do not grow enough, even for us to survive.”
Next came the unicorn. “Our herds are malnourished, and countless heads perish without adequate sustenance, for all the grain and corn we have must go to providing for our families instead.”
Finally, the pegasus added, “Great king, we cannot provide you with our tribute.” The white eyes narrowed, and the phoenix's body flared in anger, but the pegasus continued, “Instead, we have come to offer ourselves to you, mighty king, that you may spare us in our hour of need.”
There was a pause, and Daring watched in dumbstruck awe as the three stallions remained in their bows, eyes never leaving the floor, while the phoenix loomed over them. She knew it could consume them at any moment, and yet, there they stayed, fully prepared to give themselves up for their village and their families. Once more, the voice echoed through the room. “Have your elders sent you, young ones, as a desperate plea to placate me? Would they so willingly throw away the lives of their own sons?”
The earth pony answered. “Our fathers know nothing of this, great king. We come of our own accord, to speak and plead on behalf of our races.”
The unicorn added, “Once our races fought and strove for power, but we set our differences aside. It brought us peace, but that peace is shattering in the face of these events.”
“We fear the worst,” said the pegasus, his voice quivering just a little. “If we do not die from the rivers running dry, we fear you, our king, and if we cannot stop the water from vanishing, then our only hope for life is to offer to you what little we can.” All three knelt lower, their noses now touching the rock. “Ourselves.”
The flames of the phoenix crackled and popped, and Daring saw the white-hot wrath in its eyes begin to subside as it looked over the stallions. The incredible amount of light emanating from the imposing creature dimmed as it thought, and finally, it said in a voice that rang through the entire chamber, “I, Ephrus, the Phoenix King, have considered your words. You have shown great courage, offering yourselves up before me, and my tribute seems a trivial matter when compared to the suffering and death of your families. Even so, there is nothing I can do to save the rivers, nor can I stop your crops and herds from perishing. This land is no longer safe for you, ponies, and so you must depart from beneath the shadow of my mountain.”
A massive wing swung slowly and bent down to touch the rock in front of the sons where they lay prone. There was a brilliant flash as flame from the phoenix's wingtip poured into the stone, roaring with a brilliant light, and when he withdrew the wing, there stood three objects that caused Daring's eyes to shoot wide open. In front of each stallion stood a small figurine that looked like it had been forged from the finest glass, each one in the shape of a different race of pony and coordinated to rest before the pony of the same type. The heart of each one glowed with an ember that could only have come from the phoenix king's power, and they seemed to absorb the light that came from the mighty bird. Daring stood spellbound, the origin of the artifact that had caused her so much pain and curiosity at last revealed to her, and she drank in the sight of the other two statuettes, seeing them for the first time.
Ephrus resumed his speech. “Take these, brave sky-brother, earth-brother, magic-brother. May they serve as reminders of the peace you shared here, and know that I shall dwell with you within these statues. Now, flee from this dying land, and I shall sleep within my mountain.” Slowly, the great figure descended into the pool of magma, the earth shaking once again as his massive form disappeared from sight. One by one, the ponies picked up their appropriate statues and carried them out of the chamber on their backs.
Daring wanted to follow them, to follow the artifacts, but instead, the walls around her seemed to sink as she floated up to the mouth of the volcano. The phoenix king spoke as she emerged from the top of the mountain. “And so, they fled, and I was left alone once again. My anger at my own greed boiled over, and with it, so too did my mountain.” Daring looked down to see lava pouring out from the volcano and flowing freely down the slopes, engulfing the little remaining jungle below in a sea of liquid flame. Ephrus continued, “I slumbered, my mind no longer at peace, and watched as my statues spread to the corners of the earth. For a time, the tribe stayed together, reminded of their harmony, but over time, war and disagreements drove them apart again, and with their division, so too did the statues separate, spreading to all corners of the world.
“The peace they represented was gone, and so they dimmed and were eventually forgotten, their tale told no longer. Anypony who stumbled across one found themselves drawn to the artifact, but their infatuation descended into greed and darkness, and many ponies were driven mad. Eventually, each one was hidden away in a room sealed by ancient magic, meant to never be discovered again so they could no longer harm, and in my slumber, I could not fight this decision. I did not want them to be lost for all of time, and so, I resolved that the statues would not be found again until a pony pure of heart and mind came across them. Only then would the chambers be revealed, and only then would I know the mind of the pony who found them. Thus were they hidden for thousands of years.”
Around Daring, the landscape started to fade away, dimming into the same blackness that had engulfed Daring earlier. “You, sky-sister, were chosen to bear the final statue, but I fear that something is amiss. The first to be found was by a magic-brother, but I can no longer see his mind. The second was by an earth-brother, but his thoughts have become clouded, like a thick fog which I cannot clear. Only when you, sky-sister, brought the statue into his presence did I feel a spark within him, but I fear that he is lost to foul magic that I cannot comprehend. It is only within your statue, sky-sister, that I remain unspoiled and whole, and so have I revealed myself to you.” Now, she was in complete darkness, with only the booming voice of Ephrus for company.
“This I ask of you, sky-sister: Find the other statues, and let them be taken up by ponies who embrace the peace and harmony they represent. Bring them to me, and I shall awaken from my slumber at long last. Then, perhaps, I can right the wrongs I committed so long ago.” The last echo of Ephrus' voice faded away into the nothingness, and once again, Daring found herself suspended in the midst of a black void.
Suddenly, she felt hooves on her shoulders shaking her back and forth violently, and she shut her eyes tight as the rocking motion rattled her thoughts. When her head ceased its bobbing, she opened her eyes, and there, in front of her, was the familiar masked face of Mare-Do-Well and the confines of Trowel's apartment. She inhaled deeply, and the rush of air into her lungs caused her to double over in a coughing fit. Amidst her attempts to catch her breath, she heard Trowel ask, “Is she gonna be okay?”
Her breathing stable, Daring raised her head and looked at both ponies intently. It relieved her to hear her own words, even if her voice was weak, as she said, “I'm all right.” She inhaled and exhaled deeply, wheezing as the air flowed back into her body. Her thoughts ran at breakneck speed, but amidst the chaos reigning supreme in her brain, she was able to form some coherent sentences. “I...I know everything. I think...both of you will want to hear this.”
