> Cat and Mouse > by Zephyr Spark > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Chapter 1 The Letter > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Spike’s day was already crummy before he got the letter. He woke up with a yawn feeling well rested as he stretched his arms and rolled out of bed. He glanced at the clock on the wall, blinking the sleep from his eyes, and realized he was ten minutes late. By now, Twilight would be starting her strict routine, where every second was fully utilized. Jumping out of bed, he scampered across the floor and raced to the kitchen. Hands trembling, Spike retrieved a large bowl and frying pan from a drawer beneath the stove. After placing the pan on the grill, he grabbed a bag of flour, baking soda, packets of salt and sugar from the pantry and dumped them into the bowl. He hoped he could sift through these with a beater before Twilight woke up and realized he was behind schedule. “Morning, Spike.” He was out of time. Twilight’s hooves resounded with clip-clop as she moved to her assistant. “Did you sleep well?” Her voice trailed off as she noticed the white powders, shredded paper wrappers, and gooey substances littering the countertop. His heart plummeted at her perplexed expression. In moments, Twilight understood his predicament. He waited for her scolding but instead she picked up a rag and started washing off the white soot. “I’m sorry,” Spike mumbled. “I didn’t mean to sleep in.” Twilight simply looked at him with a kind smile. “It’s fine,” she responded. “We all mess up every once in a while.” She bit her lip, regretting her choice of words. “Just finish making breakfast and we can get started afterwards.” Spike nodded with a frown and returned to his work, scolding himself. His carelessness threw off her daily routine and created a mess. She could say it’s fine, but that didn’t keep him from blaming himself. Wasn’t he her number one assistant? He wasn’t supposed to do this. Even if she would not admit it, Spike knew this was his fault for neglecting his duties. Feeling diminished, he slumped to the fridge, pulled out milk, eggs, and butter, and added them to the bowl. Within twenty minutes, he had two stacks of pancakes. “These look good,” Twilight smiled. Spike said his thanks and watched her dig in, finding his appetite defunct. He prodded the fluffy pancakes with his fork. “Come on, eat. We’ve got a long day ahead of us.” The alicorn said before returning to her breakfast. At Twilight’s insistence, he forced down five bites, each lump plummeting down his throat pained him with guilt. Still, he ate every last crumb before rinsing their plates in the sink. Determined to show his dedication, Spike vowed to serve Twilight today with utmost obedience. That meant spending an entire day performing mind-numbing, tedious tasks without rest or escape. Somehow, today happened to be the day when all his friends were busy doing something, forcing Spike to change his daily schedule. His crush Rarity left for the week to check on her store in Canterlot which meant no helping her at the Carousel Boutique, the Apple Family was in the middle of harvest season so his hoofball buddy Big Mac couldn’t hang out, Starlight Glimmer went to the Crystal Empire, and every pony else had work or some pressing task. To top it all off, Twilight planned to spend the day conducting magic experiments for a research paper. He’d helped her on these papers plenty of times but could barely endure the countless hours of observation, trial and error, and getting an extremely sore hand from criminal levels of writing. His prospects looked grim. It didn’t help that he disrupted Twilight’s schedule. Now, they’d have to work double time. Twilight went upstairs to collect her books and he released a sigh. He jerked at a sudden thump-thump on the castle door. “That’s probably the mail,” Twilight called from upstairs. “Could you get it, Spike?” He was halfway to the door before she finished talking. Spike opened the door to find a familiar gray mare with a yellow mane. She gave her usual cheerful greeting and handed Spike a mound of letters rising so high they obscured his vision. It wasn’t unusual for them to receive so much mail, especially since Twilight became a princess. He’d probably be spending the evening burning proposal letters from half-wits, spam, and junk mail. Spike didn’t see the mail mare leave but heard her upbeat bye. Staggering inside, Spike couldn’t figure out where the table was. Then he stubbed his toe and dropped the letters all over the floor. Rubbing his toe, Spike looked at the sea of fallen letters. Seemed all he was good for was making messes. He sorted the letters one by one on the table in four categories: family and friends, royal duties, fan mail, and future firewood. Spike sorted all but three letters when he noticed an envelope addressed to him. He wasn’t too surprised. Even if he wasn’t as famous as Twilight, he received his own fair share of fan mail, especially from the Crystal Empire. He knelt down and retrieved the letter turning it over. He was surprised to find no return address but reasoned the writer may have forgotten or been too afraid to give out personal information. Sometimes the post office wouldn’t object to anonymity. It was still inconvenient. How was he supposed to write a response? Using his clawed index finger, he opened the envelope and reached his fingers inside. He pulled out the letter folded in thirds and opened it. His heart skipped a beat when he unfolded the lower half of the letter to find a lock of purple hair softer than smoke tucked underneath and skipped again when he read the letter. Come to Dragon’s Lair inside the volcano labyrinth. Tell anyone or try any tricks and you’ll never see her again. You have three days to show up. A thousand unanswered questions arose in his mind. Who did this? What did they want? He recognized Rarity’s lock of hair and felt his blood boil. He had no idea who would dare harm his friend but they weren’t going to get away with this. Spike glanced around and finding no sign of Twilight, opened his mouth to call her name. Then, he remembered the threat if he told anyone. Maybe he could leave the letter where Twilight might find it. Unless whoever sent this message was watching right now. He couldn’t take that chance. Emerald flames reduced the letter to ash. His worries about Twilight’s research project felt like a distant memory. Just then, the sound of hooves announced Twilight approaching with a pile of books. She noticed the organized letters and said her thanks. Spike put on a false smile as he thought of someway to leave for Dragon’s Lair without arousing her suspicion. His face must have betrayed his thoughts because Twilight now stared at him. “Spike is something wrong?” His heart pounded as he shook his head. He blinked as he thought of a solution. “I just got a letter from Princess Ember,” he lied. “She’s invited me to her kingdom for the weekend. Is it alright if I skip the research paper and go for a visit?” She seemed startled by this development, but soon her eyes were brimming with excitement. “Sure.” Twilight grinned, “I’d love to visit Princess Ember.” Spike cringed. If Twilight came, they’d go to straight to Ember and they would find out his lie. He couldn’t risk them finding out the truth. “This is kind of a dragon-dragon thing, you know? Not really for ponies.” He blurted. “Oh,” Twilight looked disappointed. “Well, I’ll just drop you off then.” “No, it’s alright.” Spike said, “I was gonna take the long route and walk there. You know much more scenic and healthy than just zapping wherever we want to go.” “You can’t walk across the Celestial Sea.” “I know that. I’ll take the train to Baltimare and buy a ticket for a boat ride.” “I could teleport you there in a second. Why do want to go the hard way?” “I don’t know, I guess I just wanted to ride a boat?” Spike knew Twilight would never buy that lame excuse. “Besides, I know long distance teleportations can get exhausting even for you.” “What’s really going on here, Spike?” “What? Nothing! I just have to do some secret dragony stuff. That’s why I have to go there alone.” “I’m not comfortable with you going so far away on your own.” “I’ll be fine, Twilight.” Spike smiled, hating every second he was lying, “Princess Ember said she would meet me in Baltimare Train Station.” “Oh, why didn’t you say so?” Twilight rolled her amused eyes. “I’ll just escort you to Ponyville Train Station and see you off. First things first, we better pack you a toiletry bag.” She was already crafting a mental list of things to pack as she vanished upstairs. Spike had a feeling this was the best deal he would get. He sighed. Failing stank, lying to Twilight stank, but losing Rarity would be wretched. A wave of panic surged through his body at the thought. Before his stress worsened, Twilight reappeared with his knapsack. He stood upright and disguised his apprehension as she showed the location of the items from his toothpaste, toothbrush, soap bar, papers and quill, to gemstones, flashlight, comic book, and a pouch of bits. After double-checking, Twilight handed Spike the bag and led them outside. They passed Sugar Cube Corner, mouthwatering scents danced in Spike’s nose. A few ponies stopped to say hello. Lyra Heartstrings gave them a how-do-you-do before heading off with her friend Bon Bon. Those two were never seen far apart. Speaking of never far apart, the Cutie Mark Crusaders stood outside the Clock Tower talking about their plans. Apple Bloom must have gotten some down time from the harvest. Good for her. Spike didn’t think any pony could do their best if they did nothing but work. Of course, that never stopped Twilight. He would have chuckled at the thought under different circumstances. Mayor Mare approached Twilight requesting her help with a charity fundraiser next week. Twilight promised to assist her and excused herself. Life went on in Ponyville, Spike realized, the same as it always has. He could only wonder how longer this would last until the next big threat rolled in. Then again, maybe it just did and he was about to face it alone. “So what exactly does Princess Ember want to talk about?” Twilight asked, jolting Spike from his contemplation. “Um, you know. Dragon stuff.” Spike stammered, hoping they’d reach the station soon. “I see,” Twilight nodded. “Such as?” “Secret stuff,” he replied abruptly. “You won’t tell me?” Twilight asked. Suddenly, she stopped. “Or is it that you can’t?” Spike’s eyes widened, which was all the confirmation she needed. Twilight’s horn shimmered with a spell, muffling her voice. “Spike,” she addressed him. “I’m sure you have your reasons for keeping secrets, but you can tell me anything.” He wanted to pour everything out to her and work through this mess together, but Rarity’s life was on the line. If his enemies even suspected him for a second, they’d never see Rarity again. Gritting his teeth, he steeled his heart. “Not this.” “Why not?” “I can’t,” he stuttered, “I can’t tell anyone. You’ve got to trust me.” She stared at him through narrowed eyes. Spike couldn’t imagine what thoughts were going through her head. “I hope you know what you’re doing,” she said at last. Her spell faded and they walked to the station without another word. They only spoke again to say farewells as he boarded the train. Spike stared out the window until she faded from sight. Twilight suspected from the very beginning something was wrong but trusted him enough to let him go. He wouldn’t let her trust go to waste. Opening his knapsack, Spike looked for anything that could solve his dilemma. Unless his foe was allergic to toothpaste or soap bars, nothing in his knapsack could defeat someone. If the train and boat had no delays, he could reach Dragon’s Lair in less than a day. A burning fire grew in his stomach. Whoever threatened Rarity was going to regret it. He would make sure of that. > Chapter 2 Threats > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Two and a half days ago, Spike left Ponyville. Now, he entered a hole leading directly into the dormant volcano. He made his way across stone bridges suspended over pools of magma. The heat rising from the floor barely registered against his flame resistant scales. Soon, he entered a cavern. Ember told him this volcano existed for centuries and held sacred to dragonkind, who loved swimming in its magma. To any other creature it was torrid, but to Spike it was simply a hot tub with memories. He remembered running through this volcano when he fought to become Dragon Lord not long ago. Back then he had support from his friends. They would risk their lives to keep him safe and he them. Today he betrayed their trust to protect them. Thirty minutes of walking, and the tunnels began widening to an open space that branched off into several smaller tunnels. A shallow river of magma surged around the room. Spike’s eyes immediately went to a delicate white figure suspended in a cage over the red bubbling river. Even though he knew she couldn’t have been well after nearly three days of imprisonment, nothing could have prepared him for the sight a ragged Rarity muzzled and bound. She saw him and her eyes revealed a mixture of gratitude and fear. Conflicting emotion raged within him; anger at the fiends who did this, fear for her condition, and relief to find her alive. The cage’s chain connected to a podium with a single lever and a button. Spike assumed this held the key to freeing Rarity. He took five steps towards her when three figures dropped from the ceiling, their wings catching the air as they descended to the ground. Two purple and brown dragons flanked a tall crimson dragon with orange frills. The purple and brown dragons wore smirks as they growled at the intruder, but the red dragon simply folded his arms. Spike remembered them all too well: Matchstick, Boiler, and Garble. He met this trio during the dragon migration when he went out on a quest of self-discovery. They tried to make him something he wasn’t, to tell him that being a dragon meant being a brute. Ironically, they made him see how to be his own dragon. Now they stood between him and Rarity. “Glad you could make it, pony-lover,” Garble taunted. “I’m sure you’re wondering how we took your pony friend without any one knowing.” He smirked. Spike decided to stall and find out whatever he could. “Yes, yes,” Matchstick chanted, “tell him how we got her.” Boiler chuckled along until Garble swiftly turned around and jabbed at the purple dragon’s face sending him flying into the wall. Matchstick rose on shaking legs before taking his place by Garble’s side with a bowed head. Spike’s body trembled as he witnessed Garble’s strength and realized Rarity had been this monster’s prisoner. “Well, I’m not going to waste time explaining.” Garble continued. Spike growled. “I came here just like you asked. Now let her go.” Spike’s voice cracked at the worst time, causing the dragons to chortle. “Did I ever say we’d let her go?” Garble sneered as Matchstick and Boiler joined him cackling. Spike glanced at Rarity, who to her credit, hadn’t shed a single tear or shown any outward display of fright. Beads of sweat rolled down her face but Spike couldn’t tell if this was from the magma or fear. If anything, she looked defiant in the face of danger. Garble stopped jeering, “After all, we have a score to settle.” “So revenge? That’s it?” He turned back to the dragons, hoping to provoke them and make a mad dash to Rarity before escaping. “Come on. I’m the one you want. Come and get me!” Boiler pointed at him and snarled, “You’re gonna eat those words, punk!” The brown dragon leapt at him and Spike prepared to jump aside. With a flick from Garble’s tail, Boiler fell face first into the dirt. “As much as I’d love to pound him into the dust, that’ll have to wait.” Garble pinned Boiler beneath his heel until the dragon nodded. Then Garble removed his foot and let Boiler take his place before turning to Spike. “What do you want, Garble?” Spike spat out the name. “You’re going to bring me the Dragon Lord Staff from Princess Ember and then I’ll let her go. You can get close to Ember and take that staff easily.” “The staff for my friend?” Spike widened his eyes Garble sneered. “Bring it to me in three days or,” he pulled a lever dropping the cage feet above the bubbling magma, “she takes a dive.” Rarity shook her head at Spike, eyes clearly saying no but her tears betrayed fear. Spike bit his lip, “If you have the Dragon Lord Staff, you’ll be the new Dragon Lord, right? How do I know you won’t turn on us and attack Ponyville?” “Oh I will,” he nodded his head. “Gotta teach your friends a lesson for messing with me.” “Give me your word you won’t harm her or my friends,” Spike said, “or I’ll – “ “You’ll what? Make me sorry? A pipsqueak like you couldn’t scratch me.” “If you harm her in any way,” Spike narrowed his eyes, “I’ll throw the staff into the magma and make sure you never see it.” “Alright,” Garble shrugged with amusement, “I swear we won’t hurt her so long as you keep up your end of the bargain.” Garble smirked, “And don’t even think about running to one of your friends. We’ll be watching.” > Chapter 3 The Exchange > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Spike moved through the catacombs, carrying a stick wrapped in white cloth. He could sense Garble’s lackeys watching him from somewhere as Luna’s moon descended. There was no escaping their eyes. Tiptoeing to Ember’s chambers, Spike clutched the stick so hard his knuckles turned white. The shadows covered his approach from her guards, who were already drowsy and unsuspecting. After all, few creatures would want to enter a dragon’s lair. He hated every second of this. Betraying his friends. But what choice did he have? After a day of anguishing over his inevitable actions, Spike could no longer bare the thought of Rarity being Garble’s prisoner. He’d seen Ember’s chambers on a visit some time ago. It wasn’t fancy like a pony’s room, but it still had an undeniable air of home. Ember showed him many of her secrets and entrusted him with knowledge no other dragon was privy to. He tried to push his guilt out of his mind as he reached the doorless cavern. Spike peaked through the entryway and saw the blue dragoness resting in her bed as she clutched a rod covered with a snowy cloth. She rested on her left side, leaving her face and staff exposed to intruders. Careful not to make a sound, he slunk to her bedside. No reaction. His claws trembled as he reached for the staff and touched the cloth. Ember started in her sleep. Spike suppressed his flinch, his claws still resting on the staff. When her breathing returned to normal, Spike slipped the fake into her fingers and snuck out her staff. With a heavy heart, he withdrew to the shadows. Spike entered the volcano and made his way to the familiar cavern. The three dragons didn’t notice him until he reached the edge of the plateau near the pool of magma. “You got the staff?” Garble snickered. He already knew the answer but found such glee from taunting the little dragon that he had to ask. Spike dropped his knapsack onto the floor and unbuttoned the top pouch. He pulled out the staff, covered in a white cloth. In one movement, he shoved his bag aside and held the stick over the pool of magma. Garble and his cohorts lost their grins as Spike glared. “Let her go,” the little dragon ordered. Boiler and Matchstick exchanged nervous glances before looking to Garble. The red dragon chuckled, prompting them to join in. Garble pulled the lever dropping Rarity a foot from the magma. She clung to the corners of the cage, desperate to avoid the popping bubbles. Eager to witness Spike’s panic, Garble turned to face him, only to find him gritting his teeth and clenching the cloth. Garble scowled before reaching out his hand, “Give me my staff and I’ll let her go.” His body trembled but Spike didn’t move from his place. “No,” his voice shook but remained firm. “You let her go and then I’ll give it.” “Or what? You’ll drop it into the magma?” Garble snorted, “Stop wasting my time. I know your weakness. You’ll do anything for these ponies, even if it means giving me the kingdom. You’re too soft.” Spike opened his hand and let the staff fall. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as the snowy cloth descended to the liquid cauldron. Garble screamed, “No!” but the staff continued falling. He reached for it, in some dull, naïve notion he could save it but he was powerless. Suddenly, the staff stopped inches above the pool, suspended in purple claws. Slowly, the staff rose a few inches farther. Garble stared at the staff and found his eyes drifting to Spike who once again held the staff above the magma. “Still think I’m too soft?” He growled. Garble’s silence confessed everything. “Now, we’re going to make a new deal. You’re going to swear that you’ll never harm a single pony or citizen of Equestria so long as you live. Then, you’re going to send her,” he nodded at Rarity, “over here, give me a minute to make sure she’s unharmed and then I’ll give you the staff.” Realizing Matchstick and Boiler noticed his hesitation, Garble snapped, “I’m the one deciding who gets what! You have no say—” His words stopped short as Spike brought the rod inches above the magma. The white cloth sparked, releasing puffs of smoke. “No, wait,” Garble yelped, “put out the fire or I’ll—“ “Let. Her. Go. Now!” Spike’s command held no room for compromise. With the staff burning, Garble’s mind became fogged. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He thought Spike was a wimp yet here he was controlling the dragon who kidnapped his friend. Garble grabbed the lever ready to dunk Rarity but Spike feinted dropping the staff again halting him. “You know why you’re going to do what I say?” Spike asked. His trembling voice and quivering body stood firm. “Because I’m willing to do what you’re not to get what I want.” Garble looked at Rarity, realizing Spike meant he couldn’t drop her into the magma and risk harming her, not when he needed her as a bargaining chip. He couldn’t put her life in danger to force Spike into a hasty decision when his ambitions, the Dragon Lord Staff, were melting before his eyes. Garble motioned Matchstick to Rarity’s cage and spoke. “Alright, Spike. You have a deal. I swear to never harm a single pony so long as I’m Dragon Lord.” As Matchstick opened the cage and retrieved the white unicorn, Spike patted out the sparks on the white cloth while keeping the staff close to the magma. Garble leaned close to Matchstick’s ear and muttered. The dragon flashed a toothy grin as he undid Rarity’s bonds and sent her to Spike. She wrapped her hooves around him as she blubbered her thanks through tears. Spike held her and looked her over, inspecting any injuries. Matchstick came closer to the pair. Spike could tell he was on the verge of laughing. No doubt Garble told him to attack once he had the staff. Before he came a step closer, Spike whispered into Rarity’s ear. She whispered in turn, fresh tears welling in her eyes. A loud stomp from Matchstick’s foot snapped them from their exchange. He pointed to the staff still in Spike’s hand and extended his hand. Spike took a few steps forward, holding out the scepter. But as Matchstick lunged, Spike threw the rod away. It flew directly into the magma. This time, he did not catch it. “No!” Garble howled, “Matchstick, get it!” As Matchstick jumped into the magma and Boiler ran to help him, Spike grabbed his knapsack on the floor and raced deeper into the tunnels. The pouch of the pack was still opened, and a rod bundled in white caught Garble’s eyes. Then it hit him. Spike could afford to hold the cloth covered staff over magma because it was never real. He duped them with a fake staff while hiding the real one in his bag. “Forget that!” Garble barked at the bumbling dragons as he took flight. “Spike has the real staff in his bag. After him!” They had long forgotten that white pony. Nothing else mattered to the three dragons as they soared after the drake. The patter of his distant footsteps betrayed him. Soon, he would pay for his mockery. > Chapter 4 The Chase > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The dragons stopped where the main tunnel branched into three tunnels. Spike could have gone into any three of these tunnels and the dirt left no trace of footprints. Matchstick took a sharp breath before releasing a trail of embers into the middle tunnel. Garble smacked him upside the head, halting the flames. “You idiot! You’ll burn the scepter.” Matchstick gave a sheepish look before hanging his head. Garble glanced at the tunnels, “He went down one of these. We’ll just have to split up and try each tunnel. Matchstick take the middle tunnel, Boiler the left, and I’ll take the right.” With little space to fly, the dragons raced into the tunnels. Their footsteps echoed through the caverns. Soon, they were separated in the winding tunnels. A voice reverberated from the walls, “This was a great idea. I just have to lure them into these tunnels and seal the exit.” Spike’s voice permeated through the rocks. Try as they might, the dragons could not pinpoint the speaker’s location. “As long as the monster gets them, I won’t have to worry about them ever again.” “M-Monster?” Matchstick yelped. “Don’t listen to him!” Garble yelled through the stones. “He’s just trying to trick us—!” A loud roar sounded through the tunnels, silencing all voices. Garble shuddered with budding apprehension. He didn’t think Spike had it in him. The three tunnels wound out to an open space that descended into an incline. At the edge of the tunnels, Spike cupped his mouth and unleashed another loud snarl. His voice carried thanks to the acoustic rock structure that bounced his every sound. He could hear them panicking now. They just needed a little push. “So long as they don’t slam the on the walls, the monster should get them,” he said before issuing another roar. There was silence for a good five seconds. Then, he could hear bodies hammering on rocks. He unleashed a piercing howl into the tunnel and the sound of poundings doubled. Dust fell from the ceiling as the cavern shook. “Wait! Stop you two!” Spike heard Garble’s voice in the tunnel, “The ceiling’s gonna fall!” Garble’s warning came too late and a deafening crash reverberated through the tunnels. Boulders smacked the cave floor and columns of sand fell. Spike turned away and covered his face as dirt spewed from the entrance. He turned back to the tunnel, hoping he hadn’t crushed them under the rocks. For a minute there was silence. “Garble!” A coughing voice wheezed. Spike fell back on the rock wall with relief. “Garble! I’m stuck.” He couldn’t tell which dragon spoke but it didn’t matter. His plan worked. At least one of the dragons was down. Hopefully, they all were trapped under the rocks. “I’ll come back for you later,” Spike grasped the handles on his knapsack when he heard Garble speak. “Right now we gotta get that staff.” Spike rose to his feet and sprinted to the incline a meter from the tunnel. Garble used the word “we,” which could only mean he still had one companion. He hoped this rock trap would end this chase and stop all three dragons, but at least it caught one of them. Spike clenched his fists. It wasn’t hard to see that a prolonged chase put him at a clear disadvantage. A dragon with wings wouldn’t have much trouble keeping pace with a wingless baby dragon. Add three or even two dragons to the mix, and his odds of outrunning them became bleak. This was not a fair game; it was a lost cause. Spike knew escape was impossible and these dragons simply had to wait him out. Sooner or later, he’d lose this test of endurance. Even with the sound of approaching footsteps, Spike wasn’t discouraged. Terrified yes, but not discouraged. He would decide when he lost. “There he is!” Spike slid down the steep incline, balancing on his feet. He stumbled near the ground but staggered up and raced to a narrow cranny in the cave wall. The sound of beating wings drew closer. He inched between the rock walls as claws lunged at him. His small body slipped through the crevice with ease, but Garble and Matchstick were bigger and couldn’t follow him easily. At least he hoped so. Just in case, he had a wet soap bar in his hand. He glanced behind and saw Matchstick sidling through after him. This was a tight squeeze for the tall dragon; his feet were cramped between a space smaller than his chest. Spike leaned down and picked up a handful of sand. As Matchstick reached for his pack, Spike flung the gravel at his face. Matchstick howled, rubbing his teary, red eyes. Spike slid the wet soap bar under Matchstick’s feet. With his hands furiously clutching his burning eyes, Matchstick had no way to stop himself from falling headfirst into the narrow pass. His entire body was trapped in the narrow rock wedge. Spike retreated further into the crevice while Matchstick unleashed a torrent of curses. Garble was getting a headache grinding his fangs. Rage wouldn’t begin to describe his emotions. Somehow, a flightless, wimpy baby dragon outsmarted Boiler and Matchstick and even him. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. They were stronger and faster, so how had Spike taken down two dragons? Garble could only guess dumb luck. At any rate, he couldn’t let Spike get too far. He flew past the crevice through the corridors of molten rock; he could catch Spike further in the cave. In less than a minute, he found where the gap opened in the in the adjacent wall into a second tunnel. Matchstick’s whimpers echoed through the gap. Garble ignored them. He couldn’t waste time helping someone so useless. He soared through the open cavern until the tunnel grew too narrow, forcing him to proceed on foot. The cave wall began widening ever so slightly when Garble came to an abrupt stop. Before him stood the cavern reached a dead end, save a wide hole and a narrow crevice. Garble eyed both gaps. He sniffed both entrances but both had traces of Spike’s scent. Garble couldn’t trust his nose. Suddenly, a second scent on the right tunnel caught his attention. He leaned down to the ground and through the dimness picked out a minty white trail of toothpaste leading into the wide tunnel. Garble guessed Spike had a tube of toothpaste that sprung a leak. He took two steps into the tunnel when a thought stopped him. What if Spike intentionally made this trail to trick him into going through this wide tunnel where he could easily follow? The crevice was smaller and it would make much more sense for the little dragon to hide in the narrow passage where Garble would have difficulty flying. He doubled back and wormed his way through the tight crevice. Garble tucked his wings to his back as his scales brushed across the rocks. Soon, he had to crawl on his belly to make his way through the gap. Then he came to a dead end. A cave wall sealed the way forward. So Spike took the larger tunnel after all. Garble overthought the whole thing. He quickly backtracked through the tight pinch. After returning to the main area, he raced into the large tunnel, winding across the ground before he came to another open space surrounded by a river of magma some feet below. Three tunnels of equal shape stood before him. To his left, a trail of toothpaste led to an open cave. On his right, a trail of footprints pressed deeply into the dirt. In the middle, nothing. Garble growled, realizing Spike was playing mind games. Why would he try the toothpaste trick again? Spike already laid a tunnel of toothpaste in the last area where he went to lead him astray. Unless, Garble wondered, could Spike have gone down the tunnel anyways and just left the trail to mislead him. The footprints would seem to be an obvious indicator which way Spike went. On the other hand, it could be a trick to lead Garble down the wrong tunnel. Garble found it odd that Spike made such deep footprints here when he didn’t make them anywhere else. Then again, Spike could have gone down this tunnel anyways and placed the footprints to make Garble second-guess himself, just like the toothpaste trick. That left the middle tunnel in just as much doubt. Even with no indication that Spike went this way, there was no absolute certainty that he did didn’t go this way. Garble growled. Every second he stood thinking about this was a waste of time. He had to move now. So he did move into the tunnel with a trail of toothpaste bent on finding his staff. A good thing he did too. Had he stayed a moment longer, he might have seen a purple dragon emerge from beneath the ledge many feet below and carry his backpack over his head as he walked across the river of magma. Spike took delicate steps, trying to keep his backpack from touching the boiling magma that reached his chest. The pool became shallow, dropping to his waist, and soon only reached his toes. He stepped onto a magma bank where molten rock cooled into a dull gray. Taking only a moment to cool down, Spike strapped on his backpack and jogged across the molten terrace. He had to suppress a chuckle at his own clever devices. Garble might have been suspecting tricks but he certainly wasn’t expecting a trick within a trick. Presenting him with three equally possible options distracted him from the obvious answer. For a moment, Spike wondered if he’d been hanging around Discord too much. The lord of chaos’ mischief may have rubbed off on him. The charcoal black stones cooled beneath his feet as the air around him became muggy. Bursts of hot air steamed from the ground like tiny geysers, some powerful enough to put Spike a few inches in the air. Then, he came to a dead end. The floor gave way to a chasm some fifteen feet across. No way was he pole-vaulting over that. Spike glanced at the other side. A few meters above, a rock outcrop with a tiny gap extended from the ceiling and formed a tube-like tunnel above the chasm. It didn’t look particularly stable, but that didn’t matter right now. He just needed a few more minutes before he could keep going. His body stiffened as a shrill screech echoed through the caves. Amidst the tepid heat, it sent an icy chill down his spine, as the animal cry reverberated before fading into silence. Somehow, the silence was more chilling than the shriek, or after the shriek. Now he knew what was out there: a power-hungry dragon who exhausted his options searching through the tunnels and was on the brink of murder. Or hopefully, Garble was still searching one of the tunnels and just stubbed his toe. Spike knew he couldn’t be that lucky especially considering his circumstances. He was lucky enough to even last this long. Sooner or later he would run out of luck and then he would have to face Garble. Forget face him, such a confrontation would be one-sided for the little dragon. He had to keep running and find another way to stop him. It was all he could do. Spike turned around to savage, yellow eyes and a red muzzle. His heart pounded in his chest as Garble drew near, closing the feet between them with satisfied steps. “Got you.” Spike’s heart pounded with bestial terror like a frantic creature desperate to escape its hunter. He kept his eyes on Garble, keen to avoid glancing behind even as he took tentative steps toward the ledge. He wasn’t ready. He needed time. Spike stood before the approaching dragon, beads of sweat rolling down his face. “You think you’re so clever with all your little tricks but you’re just a coward who keeps running away.” Garble said as he cracked his knuckles, making a sharp sound. Spike felt his entire body going numb. His legs felt heavy as though they were weighed with massive boulders. Then he thought of his friends counting on him and realized he couldn’t afford to freeze up. Hoping to stall Garble, he began jabbering. “So, become Dragon Lord, wage war on ponies, that’s your master plan?” “Oh, I’ve got other plans too.” Garble said with a cruel sneer. “Let me guess, destroy my friends and me, loot the royal castle, and rule Equestria.” The red dragon blinked in surprise. “You’re predictable, Garble.” Spike said. “And if you think my friends would just let you take over, you’re a bigger idiot than I thought.” Garble snorted, “And you’re weak just like your friends.” He advanced a couple of steps. “They’re weak little ponies who won’t do a thing so long as you’re my prisoner.” “What I don’t understand is why.” Spike said counting every second in his head, “Why go through all this trouble involving me instead of taking the staff yourself?” “Ember would never let me get close enough after we fought for the staff,” Garble said. His lips curled into a smirk. “I also just really just hate you.” “Simple beast, simple mind,” Spike shrugged. Suddenly his vision went crimson red as a fist harder than stone sent him soaring through the air over the ledge. Through sheer luck, his flailing claws dug into well-worn groves on the cliff side. He scrambled to find a foothold as dirt fell from his perch. When his vision steadied, He saw Garble leaning over the ledge looking down on him a few feet above. “I’ve had enough of you and your stupid tricks,” Garble huffed. He extended his claws, “Give me my staff or I’ll take it from you and watch you fall.” Spike had twenty more seconds before he could make his move. His palms were sweaty and he couldn’t hold on much longer. His head was still spinning from that fearsome blow and his muscles screamed in agony. Still, he couldn’t afford to back down. “What makes you think the staff is in this bag?” Spike said, “For all you know, I’ve hidden it where you’ll never find it. You hurt me and you’ll never know.” Garble flinched, surprised by Spike’s boldness. Then he scowled and said, “You’re just stalling. You wouldn’t let it out of your sight.” “Would I?” Spike asked, “Given everything I’ve done so far, do you really think you can predict what I would do?” For a moment, Garble stared at Spike. His eyes betrayed a flash of uncertainty, a moment of doubt, and a tinge of fear, fear for a dragon he could not understand or anticipate. His eyes narrowed. Spike couldn’t breathe, his heart couldn’t pound any faster, and arms were starting to buckle. Garble reached for his knapsack. Then, Spike let go and plummeted into the abyss. > Chapter 5 The Trap > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- This wasn’t the first time Spike saw his life flashing before his eyes. There was that time when he was falling after that transformation, running from the Sombra’s magic with the crystal heart he was sure he was a goner, those times he went time jumping with Twilight definitely put his existence in perspective. Only thing different this time was all the little things that happened leading up to this moment. All in all, it wasn’t a bad life. He was almost satisfied with it. He just wanted a little more time with his friends. He never really got to tell Rarity how he felt. Far above, Garble screamed. Spike couldn’t tell what he was saying. He didn’t care. He was more concerned with what was beneath him. The darkness was going to give way to solid ground sooner or later. Spike closed his eyes and grit his teeth. He miscalculated. This was it. Suddenly, he stopped falling. A powerful updraft steamed from the crater below. He hadn’t miscalculated. The wind was right on time. Now, he was soaring upwards, ascending like a rocket. He zoomed past a stunned Garble, aiming towards the gap in the ceiling. He opened his arms and soared across the winds like a kite and tumbled directly into the gap. The impact with the floor knocked half the air from his lungs, but he staggered to his feet and stumbled ahead. Outside the howling wind abated, replaced by Garble’s wing beats as he approached the gap. Unable to enter the small crevice, he unleashed a cloud of flames in frustration. Fire nipped Spike’s tail as he stumbled, weighed down by a heavy ache in his head. Garble’s blow had left him so disoriented that standing on his feet was hard enough. “Come on, Spike!” Garble’s voice echoed from the entrance, “I’m about to end this little game of ours!” Spike lurched out of range from Garble’s fire and collapsed against the wall. Now that he had a moment of peace, he clutched his aching head and felt a nasty bruise forming on his left temple. The mere effort of inhaling was strenuous as the intake of air chilled his entire body. His lungs struggled to breathe after his almost fatal fall. His rapid heartbeat drummed in his ears and rocked his chest. Finally, his heart calmed somewhat and breathing was less tiresome. Being relaxed did not reinvigorate his body to keep running. Having this moment of respite made him reluctant to even consider running. He laid his head against the wall and nearly closed his eyes. It would be so easy to fall asleep. Just the thought was so tantalizing. Suddenly, there was a sound louder than a jackhammer beneath his feet and Spike howled as a vice grip force crushed his right leg. A red, clawed hand broke through the floor and clamped down on his leg. Adrenaline pumping through his body, Spike struggled to free himself, slashing and biting the fist with all his might. The claws gripped him tighter and the pain doubled as he was dragged towards the hole. He dug his claws into the dirt in a futile attempt to escape. Then he noticed a rock the size of his fist a few inches from his grasp. Spike reached for the stone, his muscles extended so far they screamed in agony. His index and middle finger could just graze the rock and he worked the stone into his hand. In one swift motion, he turned and slammed the red hand with the stone. He was rewarded with Garble’s shrill cry and a loosening of the fist. Spike brought down the stone again and again and again until finally the hand was too swollen to hold on. Spike crawled away on his hands and knees. He pursed his lips in thought. His right leg felt like powder, grinded to dust. In this state, he wouldn’t be able to escape the tunnel to solid ground before Garble struck again. His eyes flirted about for a solution until he noticed several stones on the ground. Spike scooped them up and dumped them into his knapsack before removing the scepter, still covered in its cloth. Using the staff like a crutch, Spike lifted himself. He threw a stone a few feet from his position. After a few moments of silence became a minute, Spike began to question this plan. Then, a red fist broke through the ground where the rock landed and groped about. Spike tiptoed to Garble’s searching hand and placed his knapsack over it. Immediately, he latched on the bag and tugged. A second, swollen fist broke through the rocks and grasped the bag. Spike released the knapsack that had served him so well. With no resisting force, the hands pulled the rock-leaden bag directly onto Garble’s face. The red dragon shouted in surprise and lost his grip on the wall as a shower of rocks pelted his head and his chest. Spike glanced through the hole his fists had made and saw the dragon tumbling into the abyss. Several feet below his wings extended and he steadied himself. Garble looked like he was trying to make sense of what just happened as he spit out a broken tooth. The abyss beneath flooded with a powerful updraft and Garble’s wings caught the full brunt of it. With panicked screams, he went careening out of control, unable to navigate the wind with his clumsy wings. The wind pushed him violently towards the tunnel where Spike was sheltered. Spike cleared the ground as Garble burst through the ground and his head slammed into the ceiling with jarring force. Garble slumped over onto his chest, his arms, legs and tails trapped beneath the floor, as his eyes wobbled. When he saw Spike’s purple form, he seemed to regain some control. Still he could only watch in a daze as Spike hobbled away leaning on the staff for support. When the dragon vanished from sight, Garble felt his strength returning. With a guttural roar, he dislodged his body from the hole. Digging his claws into the tunnel floor, he snaked across the rocks with crippling pain and blind fury on his mind. Using the staff to support his mangled leg, Spike staggered into a cavern. The bursts of wind ebbed to a small flutter, the light of day shone through a cave mouth a few feet away. He glanced at the staff in his hand. Somehow, the white cloth still covered it from sight. Aside from some caked dirt smudging the edges, it retained a regal appearance. Spike’s temple and leg throbbed. Every part of his body hurt. He couldn’t even recall the origins of several aches. Nevertheless, he trudged to the cave mouth. Unfriendly talons grabbed his tail and sent him flying against the wall. He crumpled to the ground in a broken heap. Struggling to lift himself with his hands, he clutched the staff as Garble’s blurry figure drew near. He was lifted again over Garble’s head and thrown onto the ground with a deadening thud. Body wracked with pain, he still struggled to stand even though it was no longer possible. Garble wrapped his talons around Spike’s throat and shoved him into the ground. He raised his fist and struck Spike face. He struck again and again and again. Each time brought him greater satisfaction as Spike crumbled under the abuse. Garble remembered what he came for and stomped on Spike’s hand. The staff fell from his hand and rolled onto the ground. Garble released Spike, who lay immobile, and touched the fabric with awe. He seized the staff and thrust it over his head in triumph. “Finally,” he gleamed, “finally it’s mine.” > Chapter 6 Who Was Really the Cat? > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Spike’s swollen lips trembled as sound escaped his lips. Garble sneered at the pathetic sight before planting his foot on Spike’s face and grinding his heel. “Oh, I’m sorry. I can’t hear you with my foot in your face.” He noticed something, something that greatly disturbed him, something that halted all his revelry. Spike was smiling. Garble wondered if this was another trap and removed his foot cautiously. Spike met his gaze. “I said congratulations, you got the wrong staff.” Garble opened his mouth, stupefied. He looked at the clothed staff in his hands and tore through the white cloth. His heart faltered when he stripped away the cloth and found a plain stick lying in his hands. “But when, how?” Garble looked outraged, “Where’s my staff? What did you do with it?” “You idiot,” Spike coughed with a small grin, “I never had it in the first place.” “But I saw you take it from Ember.” “If you knew Ember better, you’d know that she doesn’t leave the scepter where anyone can just waltz in and take it. She hides it and leaves out a decoy. What you saw was me swapping a fake staff for a fake staff.” “This whole time, you’ve been leading me on a wild goose chase?” The staff fell from Garble’s hands and his mouth grew dry. “Why?” Garble’s body went rigid as a violet aura pinned him to the wall. The barely restrained aura nearly crushed him under its weight, compressing his body with a groaning rumble. Spike turned his head to the cave mouth. Twilight emerged with a glowing horn and a fierce, protective gaze. She raced to Spike and placed him on her back with tender affection. Then she turned to Garble with the most vengeful expression Spike had ever seen her wear. Garble seemed to shrink under her cold eyes, recognizing what power he had provoked. Another figure raced in through the cave mouth. Princess Ember held the Dragon Lord Staff as she soared to Twilight’s side to check on Spike. She matched Twilight’s worry and hostility. Soon, a handful of dragons entered the cave and surrounded Garble “How?” Garble said as two dragons restrained his already immobile hands, “You never told anyone!” A white unicorn entered the cavern with delicate grace and took her place beside Twilight and Ember. Rarity turned her attention to Spike, fussing over his injuries with extreme concern despite her own haggard self. Garble realized he never saw where she went when he, Matchstick, and Boiler went chasing after Spike. Without even turning to so much as grace him with a momentary glance, Rarity said, “While you were focused on Spike, I raced to Ember and told her everything. Thanks to the note Spike left in the fake staff he swapped the decoy for, she quickly understood everything and contacted Twilight. You didn’t think much of me when Spike tempted you with the fake staff.” Garble stuttered incredulously. His rage melted into despair. “How did they get here so fast?” “That’s your own fault,” Spike explained as his friends continued to fuss over him. “You shouldn’t have given me three days to get here. It takes less than a day to reach this place with the right transportation. I had plenty of time to map out the volcano. I found you and your cronies talking about your plans while sneaking around. Knowing the lay of the land, I could plan for anything. All I had to do was stall you so Rarity could escape.” Spike paused a moment to let his words sink in. “Didn’t you think it was weird how I didn’t get lost in the tunnels? Or how I kept outsmarting you and your goons?” Garble stared. The odds were never in his favor. From the very start, Spike had set up everything so he could not win. “So all this time, you had me beaten.” He whispered in disbelief. Spike narrowed his eyes and replied, “The second you threatened my friends, I had you beaten.” Garble realized a new feeling had taken hold of his heart. He was afraid. He was undeniably afraid of Spike who tricked him into believing he was the hunter when he was only the hunted, who beat him before the game began. “I told you before that I’d win because I’m willing to do what you’re not,” Spike said, “but I won because unlike you I’m not alone.” “And he’s smarter,” Rarity added. “For your own good, never mess with my friends again.” For a moment, Spike’s eyes flashed emerald green. A chill ran through the room as Garble shivered under those green eyes. Spike could tell the dragon understood that he had more than enough opportunities to finish Garble off if he wished, that the next time he toyed with Spike’s friends would be his last, and that Spike would always beat him. Garble bowed his head, completely broken. Several dragons filed into the tunnel and surrounded Ember, who turned to Twilight. She said, “I promise you Garble and his accomplices will receive the harshest draconian punishment. I will personally see to that. In the mean time, you take Spike and Rarity to a hospital. They could both use it.” Twilight nodded and thanked Ember for her help before shooting Garble a withering glare. Her horn shimmered a new color and the trio were wrapped in a violet glow. Spike fell asleep on her back before she finished teleporting. Sleep felt so good. The next few days were a blur for Spike. The Canterlot doctors had him on some sort of painkiller that distorted his sense of time. Given the condition of his broken leg and his battered body, he had no complaints. His friends came to visit him but he was barely conscious. From what he could make of their talk, Rarity had recovered well and was released a few days ago. Princess Ember offered Twilight her sincere condolences for failing to reach her sooner. Life went on as it always did, as it should. Today, Spike lay in his bed wearing a silly hospital gown. Sitting in a hospital didn’t really give him many things to do. His friends could only visit him at select times because he had to focus on resting or something like that, he couldn’t remember what the doctor said. He wished he had a comic book. Napping all day was boring. Sure it was nice, but after a while sleep lost its appeal. “Spike?” He turned to the door and beamed as Rarity walked in. He didn’t care if he wasn’t supposed to have guests right now. He wanted the company. “Hey Rarity,” He said as she walked to his bedside. “Glad to see you’re doing well.” “Thanks to you,” she smiled as she walked to his bedside. Spike’s gaze fell. “You shouldn’t be thanking me.” “What? How couldn’t I after you rescued me?” “I let Garble kidnap you and keep you prisoner for days,” Spike said. “I acted like I didn’t care about you so Garble would agree to my terms, then, I asked you to run across dragon land to get Ember all by yourself. I never wanted to risk your life by bluffing but I had to convince Garble to send you over so I could tell you my plans. If I hadn’t been so careless, he wouldn’t have caught you in the first place.” “That’s what you’re sorry for?” Rarity sighed. A smile lighted her lips as she said, “Honestly, you should be apologizing for putting yourself in danger. You had me and all of Ponyville worried sick.” “I—” “But none of this is your fault. You didn’t hold me hostage, he did.” “Still I—” “And you risked your life for all of Equestria, so as far as I’m concerned, no apologies are necessary.” Spike realized he couldn’t win this argument. He settled for a weak smile to return Rarity’s gesture. “And I don’t think you’ll have to worry about Garble again,” she said, “Twilight told me that Ember thinks Garble’s been subdued since you outsmarted him. Hasn’t said a word, complained even once, or returned to any of his usual habits. She thinks you broke him.” “You think I went too far?” “Not at all. That brute had it coming.” Rarity placed a hoof on Spike’s shoulder, sending a sharp prickle of pain through his body. He yelped and she drew back her hoof. “Sorry,” Rarity blubbered. “I’m sorry! I forgot.” “It’s fine,” Spike cringed, wishing for the painkiller release. Delicate lips touched his cheek and stayed there a good five seconds. Spike’s eyes widened and his bodily pain evaporated, replaced by a blissful jubilance. He met Rarity’s eyes, her beautiful sapphire eyes, and felt his cheeks tingeing red. “Does that help?” Rarity asked. “Oh, definitely.” Spike grinned as his wits returned. “It’s the best thing I’ve felt all week. I think I might need a few more to get better.” Rarity chuckled and together they shared an earnest laugh. “Yo, Spike,” Rainbow Dash’s voice came from the door. The rainbow maned pegasus entered accompanied by Twilight, Applejack, Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie, and Starlight Glimmer. “So,” Rainbow smirked, “what have you two been up to and why is Spike’s face red?” “Come on, Dash.” Twilight chided, “Give him break. After all, he did prevent an Equestrian war.” “And took down three dragons,” Applejack said, with proud eyes. “Ya should hear the things ponies been callin’ ya. Spike the Mighty.” “It’s not a bad title,” Spike flashed a smile. “Though, I’m partial to Toothpaste and Soap Master who slays Dragons three times his size.” Another laugh and the group descended into cheerful conversation. Pinkie Pie promised to throw Spike a party when he recovered. All of Ponyville, Canterlot, and the Crystal Empire heard what he did and couldn’t wait to greet their savior. Spike was just glad to be back with his friends. It had been a rough week, but he had to admit, things were looking up. The End